Complicated (phan AU)

Straight As A Pole

>READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. THIS BOOK CONTAINS CONTENT THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND TRIGGERING OR DEPRESSING. THIS IS NOT A SAFE BOOK. IT CONTAINS SELF HARM DEPRESSION ANXIETY AND A FEW MORE MENTAL DISORDERS. PLEASE STAY SAFE - Hayley<

The Early morning sun filtered through the window into the dark and bland room. I got up and threw on a black sweatshirt and black jeans then went downstairs to make breakfast.

"Morning." I said to my worthless step-dad as I walked past him into the kitchen. I wasn't surprised when I didn't get a response. I looked at the emptying cupboard. I'd have to go shopping later. I took the half empty box of stale shreddies out and started pouring them into the china bowl with a satisfying tinkle.

"Shut the fuck up, Phil" Greg - my step-dad - growled from over the counter.

"I'm very sorry your highness next time I'll pour them on your head. That ought to be quieter?" I said sarcastically whilst putting the box down and rolling my eyes.

"Don't give me that attitude boy or you're living on the streets!" He yelled. Great. I just had to go and make him mad didn't I? I braced myself for the coming beating. "You've always been an ungrateful little shit to me yet still, out of the goodness of my heart, you have a roof over your head, food to eat and clothes on your stupidly tattooed and pierced skin. Your stupid mother was ungrateful too. I see it runs in the bloodline." 

I felt every word like needles stabbing me in the heart, one by one. I swung. my knuckles made contact with his jaw and I yelled. "Don't you dare bring my mother into this! She did nothing to you and now you remember her as an ungrateful twat that didn't do anything?! She paid for everything before I was able to get a job! you're the ungrateful fuckhead that doesn't do anything! Do you have a job?! NO! Do you pay for rent? Or food? Or your clothes? NO! I do! I pay for everything! The least you can do is show my mother's memory a little respect!" I stormed out of the house. As soon as I turn eighteen I'm kicking him out. he can go get his own house. His own car. Buy his own food and clothes and get the fuck out of my life.

The brisk morning air came through my thin jumper and I was forced to go "home" before I froze to death. I hadn't walked far, so it didn't take me long to get back to the poorly decorated porch of my small, two bedroom house. I opened the front door quietly and crept into the hallway. I checked the time on the clock. 8:06. I had to leave for school in five minutes. I sprinted upstairs and quickly changed into a loose fitting black v neck and a thicker black jacket. I grabbed my keys and ran out the door, jumping into my black toyota.

First day back at school and I was going to be late. Great. Not that my "Mean and tough punk guy" reputation was really anything to be proud of. I was feared. The closest thing I had to friends was the six guys I "smoked" with every afternoon next to the bus stop.

I pulled up in the parking lot and grabbed my worn out backpack from the passenger seat. I got out and walked to extension history. As I walked across the frozen mud of the oval, a tall brown haired boy from a few feet away caught me eye. He dropped his books in the mud and I recognised the familiar extension history textbook. I'd never seen him before. He must have been new. He stood up and flicked his fringe out of his eyes.

For a moment I forgot to breathe. He was beautiful. I looked away quickly and scurried to my class, leaving him far behind as I sat in my usual spot in the back left corner. I couldn't help but stare as he walked into the room and hesitantly sat next to me in the only available seat left. He immediately put his head down and opened his books. So he's shy. I flipped the idea of trying to talk to him over and over in my head as Mrs Brown walked in and started calling the roll. 

"Daniel Howell?" She called, looking over her small spectacles.

He looked up suddenly, as if someone had just prodded him with a whisk.

"H-here" He stuttered.

Daniel Howell. So that's his name.

"Philip Lester?" 

"Yeah" I half grumbled, deep in thought.

The rest of the lesson blurred ahead and I tuned out, giving all of my thoughts to this boy sitting next to me. Why was I so interested in him? Why was he so special? I'm straight. Aren't I?

I was snapped out of my thoughts by the shrill ringing of the bell. Next: Chemistry. I walked up to D block and sat down at a lab table. Of course. We'd be getting lab partners wouldn't we. At least Daniel wouldn't be in this class.

I of course, spoke far too soon, for five minutes later - after all of the seats were taken - Brown Eyes himself walks through the door. And there's only one spot left. Next to me. Shortly after that Mr Fletcher walked in and promptly wrote on the board, that we're being paired with the person next to us as our lab partners. Fan-fucking-tastic. I steal a glance at brown eyes. His face paled as he read the notice. He gulped almost audibly and looked at me, a look of dread taking over his features.

He swallowed heavily again and opened his mouth. "I-if you're going to th-throw acid at me now is the time"

I almost fell out of my chair. His accent was so articulate and melodic when he spoke properly. "What?" I asked, dumbfounded. Why would I throw acid at him? Where would that get me? Expelled? I really didn't need that right now. It kind of hurt that his immediate impression of me was that I would be a dick.

"O-oh okay I just..um..sorry?" He stuttered awkwardly. I just found it adorable.

Stop it Phil. I mentally slapped myself. You can't actually think that.

Did I? Was that who I was? No. I told myself. I'm straight as a pole.