The Girl Your Mother Might Hate

Chapter One

THANKS TO @BreatheInTheBeauty FOR THE BEAUTIFUL COVER DESIGN! I LOVE IT. WHICH IS WHY THIS IS DEDICATED TO HER AND HER ARTISTIC PROWESS :P

~Chapter One~

“What if I were to just go to school in England?”

That was it. I don't really know if I'd intended it as a joke, or if I'd even meant it. It just sort of blurted out without any hint of thought behind it. It came out naturally enough. But I saw the interest sparking in my Mum's eyes. I could see the cogs turning in her mind: This was opportunity. Her first-born daughter might not be doomed to failure. There was more there for me there, better qualifications, jobs. I could stay with family...yes, this could work. And damn me if a little question hadn't went and changed my life forever.

After that, everything was a bit of a blur. Of course there were countless conversations. Was I sure about this? I didn't have to if I absolutely didn't want to. But I did, I think. I was, I think...maybe. And those were the right answers. I had a way out of the rut I'd dug for myself. This slip of the tongue could save me from a dead-end job as a cashier at Tesco's. That's what my Step-dad had always joked about. The jokes had started wearing thin recently though. Everyone knew how badly I was failing at...everything. Life in general, really.

Now that's not to say I was in a completely catastrophic amount of trouble back at home. You see, I've always been intelligent. I've always had my own unique views and I've always been pretty outstanding in the way of having “the right stuff” to ascertain myself a good future. It's just that I wasn't interested. It was like I'd come out of Primary School a budding genius, all gung-ho and ready-to-learn and then suddenly I just didn't care. I started to focus on friends and living in the moment. Nothing was really enough. That lead to a dreadful slip in grades when it got down to the nitty-gritty. You could only survive based around natural talent for so long once disinterest turned its ugly head.

In French I could imitate any given word without any effort. I just couldn't for the life of me bring myself to write an entire essay under timed conditions.

In English I could analyse every bit of symbolism and give my interpretations and create entire story-lines within minutes. Doing the essays at home was too much of a bore, though.

Biology and Chemistry were more of the same.

I was just shit at Maths in all honesty.

The consequence was abysmal results. Chemistry, French and Maths were sat at a lower level than I was suited. I scored As and Bs, but it just wasn't enough. I was awarded a generous B for Higher level English. Then for Biology, it simply read “No Award”. They may as well have printed a big fat red letter F across the paper and been done with it. No self-respecting University would look at my results and deem me a worthy candidate. Unless...Sixth Form was two extra years to get my act together. A Levels counted for more than Highers. If I could get the right results, there might still be something for me.

There was also drama at home. A pot-smoking, drug-dealing, sort-of aggressive ex with a grudge, namely. That gains you notoriety to say the least. My stupid decisions hadn't helped at all with my academic situation. Then there were my sweet, brainless friends. They just went with it all. Drama, drink, sex, drugs, music, that was their lives. Hell if I wasn't content being like that for a while. Living on the edge of a fun, racy, parent-funded lifestyle, with absolutely nothing to worry about - until you stopped and considered that one day it wouldn't be parent-funded, it wouldn't be that fun, and it would be sort of pathetic. It was the teenage experience for a reason. It wasn't supposed to take effect on our adulthood.

Those were the reasons that within the space of a few days, I was packed up and ready to leave Scotland. I was given two days to say my goodbyes. All the calls had been made, everything was set up. I had accommodation, a Saturday job to start whenever I wanted and an entire new life ahead of me. My English family were eager to get to know me. Everything was looking up. The goodbyes had been teary, but then, they were a relief. Advice and hugs were given in abundance. I made empty promises “I'll FaceTime you every night, I'll visit whenever I can, no, I wouldn't ever forget about you!” - I was getting out. I wasn't missing much. I just had to stick out recreating myself. I was going to finally get my act together.

Touch wood.

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So I hope you enjoyed my first chapter. I know it's very brief, but trust me, we'll get through to the real story soon enough. This is based around my own experiences, but most of it's fiction. I guess if you continue reading, we're gonna get to know each other pretty well :)

Vote and Comment? I'd love some writing tips and criticism too! Tell me what ya think so far.