Rejects | | a.u

.03

CHAPTER THREE

 

 || i didn't edit this really so oops ||

You wouldn’t expect a teenage girl to spend her Saturday morning at a library, slaving over a History textbook and a laptop. I pick at the blueberry muffin on the table in front of me. There was a strict rule of no eating in the library but I broke that at least once a week. No one really seemed to care.

  It was basically a ritual for me to come to the library every Saturday morning. Janet said she’d pay me to get my grades up in my freshman year if I actually did something about it and it kinda stuck. I flick the pages in my history text book to try and find the chapter about Shakespeare. I sigh and start reading. I prop my head on my elbow and I draw a unibrow on the picture of Shakespeare without thinking. I yawn and I can feel my eyelids starting to get heavy.

  It’s dark and foggy; I can hardly see the road. I keep my hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly. It’s like there are four roads in front of me instead of one. My vision is haywire and I feel dizzy and like I could pass out any second. It feels like my head is spinning. I taste the bitter taste of alcohol on my lips. The funny thing is, I’ve never had it. I move my hair out of my face and try my hardest to keep my eyes on the road. They feel really droopy and I yawn.

  A bright light makes an appearance from around the corner. I assume it’s a head light. I continue tightening my grip on the wheel. My body feels like it’s trying to shut itself down. The lights come closer. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I am about to run into something. The last thing I see before I close my eyes are my parents’ pale, lifeless faces.

  My head pounds as my eyes flutter open. I try to sit up but it feels like I’ve been hit over the head with a pole. I groan as the light above my head burns my eyes. I can smell the all too familiar smell of hospital mixed with cigarette smoke. It’s absolutely nauseating. I rub my temples and attempt to sit up once again.

  “Lay back down.” A deep male voice instructs. I manage to roll over on my side, I open my eyes a little to see a blond haired boy holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

  “You can’t smoke in here.” I say quietly, my head pounding.

  “Who says I can’t, Princess.” He takes a long drag and blows out the puff of smoke. He reminds me of some badass from a 50’s movie with his leather jacket and his perfectly shaped hair. He smirks a little and watches me.

  “What happened?” I ask and his face suddenly drops. He puts out his cigarette and leans forward in his chair. He takes a deep breath as I prepare for the worst. I manage to sit up a little and he hands me a cup of water. 

 “Well, you were in a car accident.”

 “Why are you here? Where are my parents?”

 He shifts in his seat, running a hand through his hair.

  “They um... they died.”

 “What?”I mumble, air trying to reach my lungs.

 “You killed them, Bethan.”

 I hit my head off my text book. I’m breathing heavy and confused on what just happened. I rub my eyes and wipe my face; I notice my cheeks are wet with tears. I wipe them away with the back of my sleeve.  I move my hair from out of my face and get up to go find a book or something to get my mind off the nightmare.  I start to look through the Young Adult books when I notice a tall figure leaning against a wall. Luke Hemmings I say to myself. I roll my eyes are try my best to ignore him.