Only Temporary

one

Chapter one

"Miss Darcy! Bailey, wait on a sec!"

I glance back at the approaching figure of my English teach Mr. Neil. His thick glasses framing his turquoise blue eyes had slipped down the bridge of his nose and he pushed the back up when he jogged up besides me. Mr. Neil was one of the younger teachers at Fremont High, being only five years my senior, he felt the need to have a brotherly relationship with his students rather that the usual student/teacher relationship.

Pulling the hood of my coat further up over my light brown hair, I raised my eyebrows in question. "What?" my voice came off sounding harsher that I anticipated but I didn't care at the moment.

"Principle Caster informed me that you are no longer a student of Fremont High." He pants, searching my face for confirmation.

"So?" I shrug not finding the reason I brought him all the way out in the cold for. It was no secret that I was pulling out of school; I had been thinking about for the last few weeks and given that I had enough credits to graduate at the end of the year, I decided there was no point in staying; especially not now.

Mr. Neil shook his head sending his sandy blonde hair to swing in all directions. "Don't you think that you should at least finish the year? There are only a few months to go and you're doing so-" he reached out his arm to place on my shoulder but I dodged him like the plague.

"Well unfortunately you no longer get to make decisions for me any more. Bye Mr. Neil." I state and turn on my heel keeping my head low as I walked out of the school grounds.

The walk back to the small house I grew up in was long and cold. Ever since my dad crashed the car into an old mans fence three weeks ago, there was no way I could get from one place to another without feeling a burn in my legs.

A feeling of dread filled my chest when I twisted the handle to the front door and it didn't budge open, even when I gave it a hearty shove with my shoulder.

"Damn it," I cursed quietly hitting my forehead against the wood. I was so much in rush this morning to leave that I had forgotten to take my keys with me; even as I stood out here I envisioned them hanging on the door of the pantry, laughing at me.

It would be at least six hours until my father would be home from his usual night out at the pub drinking away his sorrow from the loss of his 'soul mate'. At the memory of my deceased mother it sparked an anger in me that I couldn't explain, I was angry at the doctors that gave her a time frame of eighteen months left of life, angry at her that she only could hold on for seven months and angry that she left me alone with a man that would rather drink his days away instead of moving on.

I hadn't realized I had been kicking the door repeatedly until there was a searing pain in my toes that had little protection from my worn chucks. "Fucking shit!" this time I yelled not giving two hoots for whoever heard me.

Giving up at trying to beat the door open I roughly ripped my backpack off of my shoulders and threw it to the ground flopping down to join it and ran my hands through my hair.

"Bailey?" a low voice called from the sidewalk, breaking me away from the tears that began falling down my frozen cheeks. "You okay?"

I lifted my head and swiped at my green eyes to rid them of the tears and found a leanly muscled guy standing with his hands shoved in his jeans, a frown etched between his brows. "I'm fine..." I sniffled and composed myself back to the girl who had shut out the world once her mother died.

To my annoyance Oliver Marcus dipped his head with a smirk on his full lips that I had wanted to smack off ever since I was ten, and he came striding up the path towards my lonely house and me. "If I didn't know any better I'd say that you've got tears rolling down your face."