Occupational • larry• |ON HOLD|

~5~

I fucking hate the police. The police and people like me don't mix very well. After a while, I eventually found the school. I completely forgot about Liam and Zayn. I shot Zayn a text saying I took his car, apologizing etc...
Honestly, he's so understanding even though everyone labels us as 'bad boys'.
Maybe if someone actually took time to get to know us, they wouldn't label us.
I first met Zayn when he transferred from another highschool from out of town last year. We were only sophomores, he first became friends with Liam, and then him and Liam decided to pursue me as a friend because we had the same 'style'.

What's my style? The world can fuck off for all I care, I live for me and me only.

I got out of the car, cigarettes and my phone in hand. I put the car key in my jacket pocket before I pulled my hood up over my head. Of course, curls still bouncing in the wind as I walked the parking lot towards the building.

All the entrances were locked during the middle of the day. There had been days like today in the past. I know this school backwards and forwards, I've been sneaking in and out for the past three years. I circled around back, and tugged on the arts room window, there was no art period on Wednesday. After a little bit of leverage, the glass slid up, I always made sure this window was left unlocked for emergencies, plus nobody ever locked it to begin with.

I ducked down under the window frame and maneuvered myself inside, my body hit the ground with a thud, I stood up quickly shutting the window behind me. I fiddled with my lip ring, twirling it and playing with it. I made sure the window was closed before I began walking towards the door that led me into the halls. I opened the door just a crack so I could peek my head out, empty. I strutted down the locker-lined walls and even squeaked my shoes on the floor just for shits and giggles. I laughed to myself, opening the boys bathroom, also empty, pulling out a cigarette, holding it in between my teeth while I reached for my lighter. My lighter sparked as it lit, I took a puff and proceeded to open the tiny sliding vent in the bathroom, allowing the smoke to air out. It didn't really make a difference. Everyone knew it was me who smoked in here, but none of my teachers would say anything. They're all afraid of me, it's funny because I only had to threaten a teacher one time and then nobody else fucked with me ever again.

Word gets around fast huh?

After this, I stood in the mirror. Taking in my appearance, it was pretty obvious I was hungover, but to my surprise I was wearing a new pair of clothes, maybe they belonged to Zayn. I had black skinny jeans, and a white hoodie with no shirt underneath. I had a pair of black converse on too, the perfect fuckboy outfit. I can guarantee these are Zayn's clothes. I bet he even picked these out specifically for me, he probably put them on me too. The last thing I remember from last night before I either blacked out or fell asleep was pulling into Zayn's driveway at like three o'clock in the morning drunk out of our skulls. Then, Liam made a joke about wearing his girlfriend's thong or something and we were all laughing so hard. Everything else after that was gone.

It just dawned on me that mom hired someone to babysit me. She actually went out of her way looking for someone to physically watch me.

You know what?

Fuck mom. She doesn't understand me. Nobody does. Not even Zayn. Or Liam.

My thoughts were intruded by the bell. Second period just let out, I missed math and English already, hopefully nobody will bother me about it. Like I said, the teachers know not to fuck with me.

I flicked my cigarette out the little sliding vent that led outside, and pulled my hood down revealing my shaggy brown curls. Some kid came into the bathroom, I brushed his shoulder on my way out, going to my locker to see if I had any type of paper or shitty used textbook. I didn't.