BAD

Chapter Twelve: Harry

Song of the Chapter: Bitch, Don't Kill My Vibe by Kendrick Lamar

Harry POV

She doesn't know what she's talking about. She doesn't. I don't trick myself into thinking that nobody else goes through shit. To be honest, I don't care. I don't care about what random people go through. Why should I?

I'm driving to Harold Sr's house now. I wouldn't even begin to call that place my home even though I've been living there since I was seventeen.

This Rose chick is something else. I swear she throws my shit back as me like no one else I know. I knew she was going to give me problems from the moment I caught her in my seat. She just screamed fucking Bad news.

And not to mention she's crazy as shit. She threw those glass bottles at me with no hesitation and made me get stitches. Ten fucking stitches.

And to think that I tried to be nice to her today. I told her she looked like shit, that's clearly me trying but no, some bitches just don't apprieciate.

I wish I could just change my creative writings class. I don't even know why I chose that damn class in the first place because it's not like I know what I want to do with my shitty life anyway.

But I can't. If I change my class one more time it will throw off my graduation time and not to mention my wannabe father will stop paying for my college tuition.

The only reason I even enrolled into college is because it was my mum's dying wish. She wanted me to make something out of myself and I have been trying to change for her. But goddamn people have been making it hard.

People like Roselind Marie Sanders. Lame ass name.

When I pull into the garage in the back of the house, I see Austin's motorcycle in its designated spot.

He's another pain in my ass. I can't stand him at all with his tight ass leather jackets and annoying ass smirk. Oh we better not run into each other. Today is not the right time for that.

"What are you doing home so early sweetie?" Austin's mom asks as soon as I walk through the back door of the kitchen.  She has on her pink apron as usual.

"My professor cancelled class," I open the refrigerator and drink the rest of the Orange juice out of the container.

"Did she say why?" Here she goes with her damn quizzes. She plays with her white blonde hair, falling on her shoulders.

"No," I'm becoming impatient. I try not to be mean to Ashley for one reason and one reason at all. She's hot.

She's one of close hot MILF's that I would have surely banged if she wasn't banging my father.

But even with her, sometimes like now I just wish she would leave me alone and stop trying to be my mom as if she could ever replace her.

Imagine that.

"Oh that's weird," she pulls her apron off and straightens out her tight black dress. Man her rack is huge. I clear my throat to distract my arrouse. "Well I'm going to take a little cat nap. Lunch is in the fridge," and with that she exits the room. I sit on the leather bar stool.

My mom didn't leave lunch in the fridge too often. She didn't do it because she was too busy always being sick. Shit I remember those days so vividly. Her breast cancer just ate and ate away at her until she was literally lifelless. 

I need a damn distraction. I don't want nor need to think about this shit so I pull out my phone to call Beth. But before I get a chance I hear a long irritated sigh that could only come from one of two people from this house. And it wasn't me.