When Does It End? Dave X Reader-Insert

Chapter 2

I woke up with the sun, it's warm rays falling on my face through my curtain less window. I mumbled to myself and pushed off my bed. I stood up and stretched.

I heard a soft snore from my father's room, which was right next to mine.

I carefully padded over to my door and pushed it open, peeking out. I crawled out of my room and descended down the stairs, skipping the squeaky boards. When I get to the bottom, I rose to my feet, then quietly trotted into the kitchen

I grabbed a granola bar, then ran to the front door, grabbing my backpack on the way. Quickly, I slipped on my shoes, then raced outside. My feet slapped the ground as I ran to school, with me finally being away from that stupid house.

I slowed my pace after about a block and started to eat the granola bar. It wasn't very filling, but it was more than I had had in the past few days. My school loomed at the end of the street, calling my name. It was my sanctuary.

Only a few teachers cared if I came to school with cuts and bruises. Most just ignored it. But those who noticed fully believed that I was just really clumsy at home.

I pushed past a few students who were already at school, and went straight to my first class, which was art.

Mrs. Wilson was really nice to me, like a grandmother. She was about sixty years old and loved to teach art. She had been at this school for twenty years, teaching the exact same classes throughout that period of time.

She always came in early for me, knowing that I liked to be at school. Her door was already open and her room felt warm and inviting.

I sat down at my usual seat, smiling at Mrs. Wilson.

"Hello [Y/N]!" She smiled back, then frowned. "Oh no, are you okay?" Concern flashed across her features quickly, making me wince.

"Yeah, fell down the stairs while I was holding a glass plate. I'll be okay." I waved it off, making it seem like it was normal. Which for her, it was.

"You need to be more careful, darling. Maybe hold onto the railing next time."

"I could try, but I'd end up pulling it from the wall and making more damage." I shrugged.

She sighed and walked to her desk, then started grading some papers and getting her work all done.

I pulled out my diary and opened it. I wrote the date, then started writing everything that had happened the day before. I had been doing this for about a year now, trying to keep a record of what my father had been doing to me. I let the words flow out and lost track of time. I didn't notice the other students filing in until the bell rang.

I hastily put my diary away before anyone could see it. Mrs. Wilson then began her lecture about drawing and the arts until she was interrupted by the principal.

He came in without knocking, and a boy about my age followed after him. He walked over to Mrs. Wilson and quietly spoke with her. She smiled and nodded. The principal left, but the boy stayed behind.

"Class, this is our new student. Please welcome him warmly. Do you mind introducing yourself?" She smiled at the class, then the boy.

He cleared his throat then waved. "Sup. Name's Dave Strider. I'm from Houston Texas." His accent was barely noticeable through a deep, smooth voice. He ran a hand through his blonde hair. I hadn't even noticed he was wearing shades.

"Why don't you take a seat, Dave?" She motioned to the few open seats.

Dave took a quick glance around, most of the girls wanting him to sit next to them. I rolled my eyes at them and pulled out a pen, starting to doodle on my hand. I didn't notice his footsteps approach the empty seat next to me, and I also didn't notice when he sat down.

When he poked my arm, I jumped, surprised. I glared at him, angry that he had startled me. "What do you want?"

He leaned back in his chair. "What's your name?"

I look at him skeptically and hesitate before speaking. "I'm [Y/N]." Not wanting to continue this conversation any further, I turned back to my doodling.

He seemed to get the hint that I didn't want to talk to him, and the rest of class went by smoothly.