Jet Black Hearts / l.h.

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Wednesday, September 2, 2018
4:14 p.m.
Stony Trails Park

This is so pointless. All I'm doing is kicking rocks and rubbing blisters into my heels, but I just had to get out of my room because apparently I'm "being too reclusive." Mom kicked me out of the house for a few hours to just mindlessly meander around this stupid park because, according to her, being alone in my room is a million times worse than being alone in a park.

Sure.

Sweat trickles down my neck and my forehead. I wipe it off with the sleeve to my jacket.

Yes, wearing a jumper in the Australian summer is dumb, but there was no way I was going sleeve-less. Never again.

I kick another rock. This time, instead of skidding a few meters in front of my path, it flies a good distance about the length of a school bus and hits a random guy in the leg. I stop walking and watch as he flinches and inspects his leg.

A girl, a teenager like the boy, walks over to him.

"Did you see that?" the boy asks. The girl shakes her head, so he points over at me, both of them turning to look right at me. "She kicked a rock and it hit me."

"Who, her?" she asks, pointing now as well. Weren't they ever taught as children not to point because it's rude? Clearly not.

I start walking again. The two teens are still conspicuously watching me, and when I start to pass them on the trail, the girl gasps.

"Brinley?"

I stop mid-step and turn. The girl and boy scan my face. Recognition washes over their features, and I'm just standing there, confused.
That is, until I recognize them, too.

"Wow, you haven't changed at all since primary," the girl, whom I realize is Hannah Fieldhouse, laughs.

I remain expressionless, wanting so desperately to go back home because this is too much human interaction for one day. My nails dig into the palms of my hands.

The boy, Sam Hilton, smirks, "Thanks for kicking that rock at me, by the way."

I shrug. What am I supposed to say? Sorry? Yeah, that isn't happening; these two always made fun of me during primary school and there is no way in hell that I'm going to apologize to them.

Hannah leans against Sam's chest. "Aren't you going to apologize?"

Already decided not to, thanks.

I glance between the two and shrug. "No."

Hannah snorts. "Bitch."