Don't Make Me Go Crazy

Chapter Three

17 years old (Now)

Sometimes, I wonder how am I passing senior year. I get into so much trouble. And most of the time, it isn't my fault.

From accusations to fights almost every week, and all of them is for a logical and acceptable reason.

I go in and out of jail and my parole officer Leon, trying to get me out of trouble. I'm barely at school because of court and other stupid shit that I have no reason to go to. And when I'm at school, someone tries to start with me and I beat the shit out of them.

I transferred around 6 schools and it's really hard to talk to people when I have a record that's almost as big as O.J. Simpson.

"Yo, Jasmine!"

I was at the police station when I heard a voice, which sounds like a guy, called me. I look up and I see Leon. 

Leon is really tall, like Michael Jordan tall. He's not that older than me and he's almost 22. His skin was tan and his curly hair matched his lazy style. 

"What," I yelled.

"Come here." I got up from my seat and went to the room that he was in. 

"Sit," he ordered. 

"I'm not a dog, you know. I'm a human being that you need to show respect," I snapped. 

"Damn Jaz, had a fucked up night," he asked.

"No. I can't believe that I have to go to another school." 

"It's kind of your fault." Oh hell no, it's not. 

"First of all, that girl slashed my tires. Second, it's not my fault that she wants to be dumb. Like who the fuck don't know what 9+10 is," I explained. 

"It doesn't mean you have to put rat shit inside her car."

I laughed. "Yo, that was funny."

His face turned into a small grin. "It was kind of funny. She was screaming like she saw her parents having sex."

I laughed a bit louder. "So, am I going to be off the hook?" 

Leon's face changed dramatically. "No. You have to do community service." Gave me the easy job.

"Okay," I said sweetly. "And that's it?"

"No. I'm sending you to one more school. If you can't keep control of your anger and your psychotic ways, you're not graduating high school." What?

"You can't be serious." 

"I'm serious," Leon said with a straight face. This is the time where I get really worried because I want to be something in life. I'm a singer-songwriter, dancer, and rapper. I want to get noticed but I don't want anything to change. Like, which producer would sign the crazy, bitchy girl?

I took a deep breath. "Fine, I'll be good."

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you're gonna argue with me or call me bitchy names." I would but I just need to graduate. That's my goal right now.

"I just want to pass. So, where is this school you speak of," I asked. It better not be some rich, snotty school. They annoy me. But, I can steal their money. Focus, Jasmine. 

"It's called Willowcrest." Seems snotty. Cha-ching.

"It's a public school and I hope you behave with the people there," he informed.

"Don't worry, I will." I hope.

Leon came up from his seat and came closer to me. "I know you will."

Does this dude has a crush on me? No shit, Jasmine. He does look cute though. I'm not gonna lie but Leon is a nice ass dude. His muscles was showing a lot through his plaid shirt and he looks like he had an aftershave. But, I can't have romantic feelings towards my parole officer. And plus, it sounds weird. 

"What are you doing," I asked. His face was literally a couple of inches away from mine and I look into his dark brown eyes. Do this place have any cameras? 

He coughs. "Oh, I'm sorry. I-"

"You know what," I started. "I should go. Just send me the school address."

"Okay, be safe." He smiles brightly at me. Safe my ass. I have a death machine to drive in.

I got up my seat and walked out of the room. I see blue. A lot of blue, mostly police uniforms. They all know me because I come to this station more than my own house. 

People labeled me as the "bad girl" and I'm not like that at all. I think. 

I left the police station and started to walk towards my Yamaha YZF-R1. But someone was sitting on it. On my damn bike!

Jasmine, be calm. One more problem, not graduating.

It looked like a dude, had all black on and including his black shades. So, this is the "bad boy"? So clique. 

"Yo, you're on my bike," I snapped.

"And?"

"And you need to get off."

"Why," he asked. 

"Because you're stupid and you'll die if you don't get off," I warned. He got off my bike and whispered something to me.

"You're something else, and I like that."

A/N: Ooh, any shipping? This is gonna be good. Anyway, this is gonna be a short A/N because I'm currently in sleep mode writing this. And it's 8pm. Wow, I'm something. 

Hope you love this chapter!