A fresh start is exactly what London McLaren needs in order to forget the demons of her past. A new last name, a new town and a new school.
She's about to start her final year of high school, ready to obey her parent's orders to keep her head down a...
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Wednesday, February 12th, 2020
I'd been walking to school every day since the beginning of the week. Well, sort of. It might have seemed insane, but really, it mattered to me. I couldn't stand taking Nix's car, not yet. I wasn't ready for that.
My parents liked to think that it was a good step in the right direction but it was only sending me spiralling backwards.
So, every morning, since Monday anyway, I've been driving two blocks from my house, holding my breath to stop myself from smelling the lingering stench of bleach. Then from there, I walk to school.
"Hey," Sydney nudges me, "you're nodding off. Did you sleep last night?"
That was the other thing. Everyone was picking up on my tiredness now. Mostly because since the car was brought home, I've been sleeping less.
I hate knowing that it's just sitting in the driveway, waiting for me every day. Waiting to be driven places. I know it's ridiculous to hate an inanimate object, but I do. I had to hate something, after all.
"Sorry," I smile meekly. "I haven't been sleeping. Not used to the new house yet."
It was an easy lie, something I found myself getting better at. I wasn't sure if I should be proud of that development or not.
"Well, you don't want to miss today's lesson," Sydney beams, linking her hands together on the table. "We're learning about—"
"Sydney," Mrs Montgomery snaps. Sydney stops talking, rolling her eyes. Hate her, shemouths, directing her insult to our psychology teacher.
"Today's class is always my favourite to teach," Mrs Montgomery practically shouts and I instantly feel bad for the first two rows who are probably being hit with her flying spit.
It was common knowledge that you never sat in those rows, Sydney had told me before our first lesson. You always had to make sure you arrived for class early or you'd be out of luck.
"The mind of a killer is always up for debate. Studies have shown that an aspect of their brain is..."
It doesn't matter what she says next, because I can't hear it. My ears are ringing. I can feel my hands shaking and I can't seem to stop them.
Sydney's hand lands on my arm and I look over at her worried expression. "You good?" she whispers, her eyes drawn over to Mrs Montgomery briefly to make sure she isn't listening to us.
I shake my head, then nod. I've completely forgotten how to act.
"You've gone pale, Lon. Are you sure—"
"It's alright. I'm alright."
I don't want to sound rude but I can tell that Sydney knows to keep quiet now. I close my eyes, breath in slowly and then out again. Count to five, breath out again.
