The Bad Boy Stole My IPod

Come home.

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A/N: OK, so I'm new at this. But since I have emptied my local library I've decided to create instead of simply reading. I hope you enjoy! 

The song above is my inspiration for this entire book so yeah...

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Amy's POV

          It finally fucking happened. I got through one year in this fly blown cesspit without that asshole effecting me but now? In the last fucking two months of school? If only murder was legal...

          Before I carry on I should introduce myself. My name is Amy write, or Amy Marie Write when my dad shouts at me, and considering he works a lot is almost never. I turned 18 last month, I'm the youngest in my year but that's because i skipped a year due to my intelligence, but you can't tell, I look older. Speaking of looks, I am fairly attractive. I have quite long naturally wavy hair, it goes to below my belly button when wet and just above when dry. My eyes are a mix between grey, blue, green and a little brown, but it can depend on my emotions.  I am fairly slim but I am known as a big foodie. I am also fairly tall, I am five foot eight so I am a good few inches than most of the girls here. I take good care of myself, which is more than I can say about some of the bitches here. 

          Another thing that separates me from my peers is appearance. I like neutral colours, black, grey, white. Occasionally I wear dark blue and green, but I do occasionally venture into slight colour or vibrancy. I also have tattoos and piercings. I have 16 piercings all together. Three lobe piercings, two industrial bars on my left ear, two helix rings on my right ear, I have my belly button pierced in the top and the bottom, those were out of rebellion along with my nipple piercings. 

          I've been bending the law since I turned 17. As I look older I got my more scandalous piercings early along with some tattoos.  My collection is getting quite large so I will skip them, considering my whole rib/stomach section is dedicated to music, its a huge part of my life. 

          That's where my IPod comes in.  My dad does get me the latest phone whenever it comes out but my IPod is special. It has all of my favorite songs on it since I was, well, born. Whenever I am sad or anxious I shuffle the mix and re-live so many memories. Good and bad. I know I can just transfer the music to my phone but, I don't want to.  

          This brings me to today. It's getting hot so I'm in skinny jeans, a long-ish crop top (just short enough to see my belly button) in brown with bits of muted yellow sprinkled in it with my slip on vans and a loosely knitted long cardigan with holes big enough to provide adequate covering with a nice cooling effect; And for once I was in a good mood.

          At lunch I check my phone for any texts from my dad, when I see none I sigh and put my phone in my pocket. I pull out my IPod and I smile at the small life-saver. I press the button to turn it on and I smile at the light, I am just so happy it still works. I see my list of music pop up and suddenly its gone. The cool metal is out of my hand and no light is radiating onto my face, I look around frantically. 

"What's this crap?" Adam asks as he examines my life-source. 

"Give me the fucking IPod back." I growl at him. My hand starts shaking.

"Do I look like I do as I'm told?" He asks. Anger and anxiety fill me, that's a bad mix. He is not wrong though, He looks like a typical bad boy. Leather jacket, cigarettes, motorbike, very attractive. If I wasn't angry I would be attracted.