Telekinetic Fugitive

*Chapter One*

I just can't wait for the last day of school. It's early May and I know for a fact that our final exams are going to come up soon. Of course, it's going to be hell when they come around, especially since I suck at math. My grades aren't as good as my brother's but oh well, it's not like my parents care enough to even pay any attention to our report cards when they have to sign them. Right now, I just have to get through one more class and then I can head home.

  "Can't you walk faster?"

  I turn to find Alisha Grey standing there, tapping her expensive, pink designer sandals in annoyance shimmering in her wide, brown irises. Her black hair cascades onto her light cream-colored shoulders while her bangs are pinned back with a hairclip. I must've been so deep in thought that I hadn't noticed her walk up behind me, for her foot is tapping and her hand on her hip, staring at me with annoyance that gives me the hint. She's one of the few patient people in our school, that much I can say about her so considering that she's annoyed, I must've been standing here looking like an idiot. Which for me, isn't all too hard to do, yes I laugh at and roast myself. Stepping to the side, I roll my eyes somewhat irritated myself. Alisha is one of the worst girls in Morgan Prep, who has nominated herself as the "Queen B" of high school last year, and thinks that the world revolves around her. Instead of walking past me like I had hoped she would, she stands there and studies me with a scrutinizing gaze. I get more and more annoyed the longer I stand there; I'm sure that it shows since I'm pretty much glaring at her.

  "Do you have a staring problem?" I snap, earning a surprised look. She opens her mouth to say something, but she doesn't get a chance since I pivot and walk off, ignoring her protests about how I can't just walk away and that I have to listen to her or something. I really don't try to associate with people ever since an incident that had occurred last year. That incident caused mostly the whole student body to think that I'm bad luck. Now, every time someone sees me they cross out their path like I'm some sort of black cat. 

  "Hey, Daniel!" I peer over my shoulder, tightening my grasp on my backpack. I behold the figure of my brother, Trevor Anderson, coming towards his younger and pathetic, black sheep of a brother. His strawberry blond, curly hair is gelled back to reveal a round, charming face; big, round hazel eyes, set well within their sockets, filled with an emotion I am so used to seeing; and bronze, glistening skin. These little details make me wonder how we're related. We look nothing alike. A complete contrast of each other. Oh, yes the emotion in those hazel eyes is the most fantastic emotion ever—embarrassment. Note the sarcasm. (Fair warning, I'm one of the most sarcastic people to exist.) He's embarrassed to even talk to me, let alone be anywhere near me. Of course, he'll be ashamed, he's one the most popular guys in school and his brother is the freak who ruined everything last year.

  Eek, the cliché it needs to burn in a pit of fire and leave my life! Okay, I'm too overdramatic.

  Anyway, back to the point of the story, Trevor will usually talk to me during the times he needs something, so it isn't all that surprising when he says, "I need your phone."

  Wow, Trevor way to be blunt. Too much time to try and beat around the bush today? I muse as I roll my eyes again—hey!—I may actually find a brain in my head if I continue this. I need to stop with the self-downgrading jokes. "Don't you have your own?" I lean against the lockers with my arms crossed. I glance towards my watch with a sigh, thinking that I'll be getting to my last class late. At least, the teacher likes me and will give me a pass if I explain the situation.

  "That's why I'm asking. My phone messed up and I need to call parents. They need to check me out." He stands a foot in front of me not wanting to get any closer to me.

  I shrug, not really caring. "Didn't bring it. Pretty much have no use for it here." I push off the metal compartments. I'm about to shuffle away but fate isn't all that nice. Why isn't it ever nice to me? It's difficult for me to ever leave a room because people always try to stop me from leaving. It's funny since people don't pay attention to me.