Chase's POV:
The ride home was complete torture. I kept thinking of what just happened. How could I possibly go on Monday? Everyone knows about the incident by now. I groan. Why do I have to be such a show off? I can't face the girl on Monday. I play the event in my head. I scream, we collide, people laugh, I lift her hair out of her face, I am greeted by the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen, she is crying, Maya kicks her, I help her up, She sits on the bench, Maya comes and acts like a *****. I hate myself. But then I think why did everyone seem to hate her? I turn the corner and guess who is lying on their driveway? THE GIRL!!!! I panic. Is she dead? I look at her body. It was face up but I see her eyes are open. I let out a sigh of relief. Her chest heaves up and down. She is breathing. I quickly get off my bike to help her but then I stop. I don't want to make things worse than they already are. It's better to leave her alone. I nimbly get back on my bike and pedal as fast as I can home. When I get home my mom is on the drive way with her hands on her hips. She looks really angry. Just by looking at her my chest fills with hatred. "Where in the world have you been?!" she shouts at me even before I'm off my bike. "What does it look like? I went on a bike ride!" I retort. She stomps her foot. "You know you can't go anywhere without telling me!" "Well sorry but I didn't feel like telling you. I don't feel like telling you anything!!" I scream. She grabs my ear and pulls me into the house. "Listen hear mister," she growls. Her breathe is hot on my face. "I won't tolerate your smart @$$ mouth in my house. So if you want to be a brat go live on the streets you hear?!!" I pulled her hand off my ear which now stung. "The streets might be good," I growl back. I stomp up the stairs and slam my door. I hate this place so much and school hasn't even started yet. When my dad gets home my mom tells him about what happened. He comes up the stairs and knocks on my door. "Open the door squirt," he says. His voice is calm and he doesn't sound angry. I always loved that about my dad. He never yelled at me. I open the door and he comes in. "I hear you've had another fight with your mother," he says. I look up at him and nod my head. He shakes his in disappointment. "You know Chase even if your mother and you don't get along you should at least try to." I shake my head. "It would be a miracle if we ever did." Silence fills the air. My dad rubs his hands through his blonde hair. "Chase could you do me a favor?" he asks. I sigh and look up at him. "Please try to get along with her. She loves you son." I smirk. "She loves me? She calls me a disgrace. She curses at me and tells me to live on the street!!" I shout. My dad sighs and stands up. "It may not seem like she does son. But you'll have to understand your mother has had a hard time these past few years. With you know her mother dying and all." I shake my head. "I don't care. That's not an excuse for her to treat me like a piece of ****!" My dad glares at me for using the s-word. I look down. "You know what Chase?" I look up at him and glare back. "Sometimes you really do act like one!" he shouts. He leaves the room and slams the door. I gape. My dad just yelled at me. I guess he's tired of my mother and me fighting. I fall back on my bed and let out a scream of frustration.
