Violet Jackson can barely take a breath of senior year before Flynn Davis walks down the hall of her high school. It takes one look at him to have her world come crashing down.
She thought that Flynn Davis is no more than Sebastian Reynolds, who di...
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I stay laying in bed, my eyes glued to my bedroom's boring white ceiling. Today is the first day of school, more specifically, my first day of senior year. All I have to do is get through this year, then I won't have to look anyone in the eyes there again.
I know at some point I have to get out of bed and begin to get ready. So instead of further procrastinating as usual, I kick my legs off my bed and bury my feet into the carpet.
Rubbing my eyes, I trudge out of my room wearing sweatpants and an oversized jumper. Comfortable clothes for sleeping in.
I walk down the stairs in the direction of the kitchen where I find my mom placing two plates on the kitchen island.
"Morning, mom." I say and sit across from her. "This looks good, thanks." On both our plates is a stack pancakes, topped with Nutella and strawberries. My favourite.
I don't waste a second to dig into them. "First day of senior year honey, are you excited?" Mom asks as she too begins eating her food. Her voice was forced. She has the same uneasy feelings as I do.
I shrug and think about her question, letting it sink in. "I don't know. I'm just hoping all goes well this year." I tell her honestly with a deflated sigh.
She nods understandably, with a sad smile on her face. "I hope this year goes by well too. But, as your mother I have to be completely honest, and I know that now it's senior year, everyone is not going to be the same. Not everyone will be nice now that you're all becoming more independent and top of the school."
I understand what she says. "No one has ever been nice at that school anyway." I mutter and shovel more pancakes into my mouth.
Mom let's out a chuckle and nods. "That's the world these days anyway." She sighs sadly. "It's a shame teenagers put so much potential to waste now. Most waste their time bringing other's down."
She picks up the newspaper set out beside her and reads over the articles. I find the newspaper to be extremely boring and glamorised. It's the old fashion way of gossip for our town. Half the articles are based on false accusations, yet the whole town reads their weekly paper.
"Are you picking me up from school?" I ask her once I have devoured breakfast. I place my plate into the sink and watch mom take a sip from her coffee, eyes still glued to the paper.
She smiles and glances at me for a brief moment. "Of course I am. I won't be able to pick you up and drive you everyday because of work, but I'll be nice on the first day."
I had caught the bus home once when mom couldn't pick me up last year. After I got off, I ran home crying because everyone on the bus kept poking into my life and that night.
I mainly couldn't handle the nickname everyone had plastered to me- that everyone on the bus was calling me.
