Jade

I sit up quickly at the realization that it isn't my dad or my sister holding me. I don't talk to anyone but them, let alone make physical contact with them. I see that it's the boy from earlier. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" I screech, not even caring that he helped me earlier.

I get up and push him away, not wanting an answer but getting, "Mason Knite." The first conversation I've had with anyone but my dad or my sister in years went like this:

"I don't really care what your name is, perv."

"I swear I was just trying to make sure you were okay!"

"Save your breath, no one's ever okay."

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"Yeah, no."

"Why are you making such a big deal about this, chick-"

"Don't call me chick."

"Then tell me your name."

"..... Amanda."

" You're lying."

"And how would you know that?"

"I just do. Now what's your real name?" He enunciated real WAY too much.

"Jadis, but everyone calls me Jade. Now go away."

"Alright, goodbye."

And he finally just walked away. Let's get this straight. I'm not 14. I'm 17. I started school 1 year late and got held back twice in sixth grade when I actually had friends.

I leave the stupid, godforsaken lobby and get in my car. I don't say goodbye to my sister. I don't talk. I just sit there and breathe, not wanting it to happen again. My father gets in the car and doesn't say a word, we just drive away.