46th Street

2: And The Collision

"She punched Carina in the nose and now she's bleeding!" Hannah explains.

"She was tugging on to me." I fire my excuse that'll hopefully gain me mercy. Probably not.

"You didn't have to punch her for just that!" Lola adds.

"I'm sorry." But I don't mean it. It's common for I to be the apologist, meaning my apologies aren't sincere. It's just a pleaser, nothing more.

"No you're not. You think I don't know you well enough to know if you really mean it? Come on Robin, you're better than this." Says Alecia.

"Don't start Alecia."

"Or what? Look at you Robin, you're a loner. No one likes you. I'd like to see your back up defenses cause, quite frankly, I don't think anyone in this room would agree to help you."

"You're right." I sighed and gave in to the truth and let her win once more. Alecia's facts are accurate. No one in this damn house liked me, not even myself. "You're right. There's no need to pretend anymore. It's the truth and I can't change that. I'd still rather stand alone than with any of you."

"Please, my support is your dream." she confidently continues. That's what I hate: when she gets all caught up in herself.

"But your face is a nightmare." Childish, I know.

I watched how her knuckles tensed in a second flat.
By now, I could feel that temporary confidence fading away. Like all my senses refused to cooperate anymore.

"You..."

"Shut up, both of you! Everyone leave this room except for Robin." Mrs. Bernardes exclaims.

Quickly, they all made their ways out the room. I could still hear Carina's moans from the hallway.

Now, it was common knowledge in this house that whenever Mrs. Bernardes chased out everyone except for one girl, let's just say that sitting would definitely become an issue the next day.

"Why did you punch her?" Mrs. Bernardes questions.

"Look, please forgive me. I'll do anything just don't hurt me, I beg of you." I plead and tremble as she approaches me slowly.

"Answer the question!"

"I was irritated."

"You were what?"

"Irritated."

"Again, once more."

Angrily, I answer "IRRITATED."

"I understand." She replies.

Silence.

Her loud, suede boots approach me. "Do you realize that I have to pay for the damage you have done, Robin? Do you!?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. Forgive me!" I whimper.

"I have given you a home, clothes and food! Isn't that enough?"

"Once again, I'm sorry!" my eyes close as the sight of her rage weakens my ability to see and talk.

She continues to approach me as I tremble.

"You're a pest. An ungrateful pest. No wonder your parents left you!"

My heart immediately drops at the sound of those words. Maybe she was right. Maybe that's why I am here, crying hysterically like the world would disappear in two seconds flat. Close your eyes and breathe Robin. Its not true, it's not true... I remind myself.

"Stand up and go! You shall sleep outside tonight. No whining and take out the trash!"

I stand and take a deep breath and say a silent goodbye as if this room will never be mine to keep no longer.

There's an unwanted presence as I tread out to the doorway of my room. It's the whispers of girls who oppose my actions. Could they all disappear and never acknowledge my existence ever again? I doubt.

I try my hardest not to meet eyes. Eye contact means explanation, explanation means confrontation, confrontation means a crazy Robin. No one enjoys her.

After wandering through the hall of shock and horror, I finally reach the beloved front door that leads me out of this unwanted living space.

I'm out. I have escaped the dark hallways of this home and received my gift of absolute freedom. In a span of three minutes, I take the trash out, find a RedBull can and kick it around as I have virtually nothing better to do.

Soon enough, the can doesn't satisfy me so I take a seat on the stairs to the house.

Why am I like this? Why am I so concerned with things that irritate me? Should violence always be the answer to everything with me? It shouldn't be. I don't want it to be. Oddly enough, I'm scared, afraid and alone and frankly, talking to myself doesn't change the emotions of the situation. I don't know why I am crying but I am. The tears are all in the inside leaking like the ceiling in the dinning room. I'm convinced that something should be done about this. I'm a mess right now.

"Excuse me, I need to put this newspaper where you are seated if you don't mind." A sudden voice ends my silence. It's the paper boy and he is on his bike staring at me worriedly.

"Oh, just give it to me I'll take it in."

"Doesn't seem you'll be going back in any time soon. No offense but your a mess." He explains and smiles faintly. I do the same just to be polite.

The smile eventually turns into a chuckle.

"Why are you laughing?" His smile grows wider.

"I don't really know." I continue to chuckle idiotically.

"Come on, tell me." His dimples are more prominent than ever.

"Don't you have papers to deliver?" I mock.

"I'm not leaving this place till you tell me."

"Okay, okay. I just found it odd how you openly told me that I'm no grander than that dumpster over there. Stupid, I know."

"So you are admitting that you are a mess?"

"Pretty much, yes." I shuffle on the steps.

Seconds later, his body is no longer on the maroon bike he was sitting on earlier. Rather, it's here, next to me as if waiting for me to shuffle closer to it.

"What's your name?" He grins with his perfectly rosy cheeks that make me blush.

"Robin." I shuffle away from him to change my point of view to the dull ground.

My attempt to distance myself fails as he shuffles back to me and says:

"I'm Harry."

For what feels like seconds, but are in fact minutes, pass while we stare uncontrollably into each other's eyes.

A/N:
(This is officially the end of this chapter. Sorry for updating in patches. I'll try to update all at once. Anyways, keep voting, commenting and following! ILYASM :* <3
I'm super tired now -.-)