I have everything, except you - Thomas Brodie Sangster fic

6. You don't know what you've got

I pick up my backpack, deep breaths, time for hell. Oops, I mean school.

I painted on an extra layer of confidence (make-up) this morning because it makes me feel more secure, and it feels like a safety barrier to hide behind. I think i'm probably going to need it today, since i'm catching the bus for the first time in, well, ever. I will need a bright smile, even if I can't make it reach my eyes, to show people that i'm fine. I'm okay.

Walking down the stairs, the coast seems clear, so I bolt for the door.

"Hold it, missy." I roll my eyes. The evil queen herself comes gliding into the immaculate living room, her cream stilettos don't wobble once.

"Why have you got half of a make-up store applied to your face?" She questions as she looks me over like i'm a particularly stubborn stain on one of her perfect pencil skirts. A thin blue vein stood out on her forehead, and her mouth was set in an tight line.

"Do you have any idea how much skill these wings require?" I quipped sarcastically, motioning to my cat-eye flicks that had taken me about ten full minutes to get perfect.

"And you think I don't learn anything useful," I snort.

"Oh, no. I realise that you are ever the goody-two-shoes at that school of yours, I just didn't know that the lessons were on how to be an under-age prostitute." her voice sounded clipped at the edges.

"Well you see, mother, I didn't learn that from school. I got that knowledge rummaging through your old modelling photos while you were out getting your moustache trimmed."

She turns on her heel and storms off, and I can tell I'll pay for that one later.

I take a deep breath and open the front door, and my eyes immediately fall on the expensive car sitting on the curb. Evan's back. Again.

We drive in uncomfortable silence. I didn't face him, if I had I would have probably started crying.

"Mill..." He reaches over, going to place his hand on my thigh, but stops when I glare at him.

"Save it, babe," I say sarcastically, and he withdraws his hand.

Finally we pull up in front of school.

"I'll let you keep your squeaky reputation, as long as you never lay another filthy fucking hand on me ever again." I state calmly, slinging my backpack over my shoulder as I slam his car door closed.

Huffing, I run into class and out of the rain, which luckily had started pouring, so I hadn't had to put up the lovey act in front of our cliques.

I passed people in the corridor, and had to plaster on the bouncy-blonde fake smile to keep the questions at bay. Every person I greeted on the way to science was walking with a best friend or boyfriend, and I felt loneliness surge up from the pit of my stomach.

He came in just as the bell rang, and as I prepared for another period of icy silence he smiled. At me. Thomas 'too cool for me' Sangster just smiled in my direction.

"Hey," he said, setting his binder down on the desk. I gaped at him, then realised my goldfish impression was probably not the most attractive look.