I'm My Own Boss. Yet, oddly, I can't stand that jerk.

[1] I'm My Own Boss. Yet, oddly, I can't stand that jerk.

I'm My Own Boss. Yet, oddly, I can't stand that jerk.

Chapter 1

Faggot, was the first word that came to mind. This really sucked, because I was trying to force all negative thoughts out of my head. Obviously I needed a little more time before I could feel nothing when I thought of him. Rather than resorting to swear words popping into my mind.

'Are you alright back there, Zooey? You seem very quiet; I almost forgot you were there!' I gave a fake chuckle to humour Michelle's attempted at making me smile, and replied with a grunt implying I was fine.

Seeing him happy was the worst thing that he could do to me, and he knew that. That also kind of sucked.

Hold up! You don't even know who I am, let alone do you care about my problems. You probably have issues for yourselves... I'm not saying you have problems... just y'know you probably don't want to listen to me go on about mine, when you have no knowledge of the situation so far. So why don't I start from the beginning? Or at least the basics.

Right well, I'm Zooey. Now, I should really be spelling it with one of those weird 'ë' things, but that would take up a lot of time in my life wouldn't it? Like every time I write my name, I have to confuse myself with dots... so I just leave it out and stick to spelling with the alphabet. What else is there to say? First name Zooey, last name Perry. So that makes me Zooey Perry. I'm 15, and my birthday's the 25th of April. I'll guess you'll learn more about me when I tell you this story. To be honest, if you don't like stories about mushy love couples, then keep reading because this isn't one. This is a hardcore action packed love story filled with laser guns and adventures like the True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys... LOL jk, it's not like that at all. Well it is intense in some respects, but it's also a bit lovey dovey. Well the first bit is anyway, and then a ferocious twist gets powered into the story, along with slags, boys with apparent physiological problems, oven chips, and Diet Coke. So... it's not completely normal I'd say. Yeah, yeah I'll shut up now and get on with it.

So here I am, minding my own business on the way home from hockey training sitting silently in the back of the car... then BAM. I catch I glimpse of a curly haired boy, waiting in the chip shop accompanied with a slightly shorter boy next to him. The shorter one nudged the one on the right in the ribs and he shoved him back. I could tell who they were even just by seeing a silhouette. You may call that obsessive? I call it skill. And might I add, the chip shop is over the other side of the green, about fifty metres away. Therefore, I can distinguish these two figures just by seeing their silhouette over fifty metres away. No, wait... that is quite sad and obsessive. Okay, moving on... yeah that kind of stabbed me in the gut. Knowing that everything that had just happened in the past weeks, didn't affect him in the slightest as he's out with his fellow friend buying fish and chips. Meanwhile, I was sulking in the car.

As you may have noticed, there is a beginning missing to this story. And what's a story without a beginning? Well I shall explain that to you, some other time.