Forelsket

Part 1

Part 1

 

“You know Holland, you could try to be a little nicer to people.” My best friend Taylor says to me as we walk down the crowded highschool hallways.

“No, I don’t like people so I’m good.” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Besides me.” She says, pushing her blonde hair out of her face.

“Eh, sure.” I joke.

“Well, see you later.” She says, stopping at her locker.

“Yep.” I say quietly, more to myself then to Taylor as I continue to walk to class.

 

-

 

History sucks. We learn the same thing everyday, for a whole hour. Of course I try to pay attention but most of the time I just end up scribbling in my notebook or staring at the floor.

When the bell rings everyone rushes out, trying to get to the outdoor lunchroom.

 

I walk down the crowded hallway, trying to get to my locker. When I reach it I put away my books and exchange them for my lunch and my phone. I barely even walk two steps before a door swings open in front of me, knocking me to the ground.

 

“Woah.” Someone says from behind the door, “Did I actually just hit you with the door?”

“Really?” I ask, rolling my eyes, still sitting on the cold floor. Like no, the door hit me.

“Are you okay?” A tall, pale, purple haired boy asks, stepping in front of me. He had his ears pierced, an anchor tattoo on his thumb and an “X” on his middle finger.

“What do you think?” I say, struggling to stand up.

“I’m so sorry.” He says, sticking out his hand to help me.

“Ugh, I’m not in the mood for your charity.” I say, standing up myself, ignoring his hand. “I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t offering you charity. I was trying to be nice” The boy scoffs, pulling at his leather jacket.

“Whatever.” I say, folding my arms over my chest.

“God.” He mutters, turning around.

“Geez.” I huff. I don’t know if I did this for attention or just because I was actually mad.

“By the way.” He says, facing me again, walking backwards. “You might wanna check on your face.”

 

-

 

“Holland what the hell happened to you?” Taylor asks as I sit down at “our” lunch table.

“Some idiot hit me with a door.” I say, touching my sore cheek.

 

I turned on my phone and went to the camera to “check my face”. I turned my head only to see a bruise forming on my cheek and jawline

 

“God!” I yelled slamming my phone on the table.

“Woah what’s your deal?” Luke asks, sitting down next to me.