I've always been known as the quiet one. My dark hair and wardrobe and thin complexion make it easier to go unnoticed. I like it that way. I like being unnoticed, unseen. It keeps me out of trouble. I'm a chameleon, a master of disguise. Always hidden in plain sight, but always hard to spot. I can easily blend into a crowd.
"Phoenix Ross?" I hear spoken loudly. "Huh?" I mutter, as I snap back to reality. I must've zoned out. "A simple 'here' would suffice. Glad to know you're back on earth with us, Miss Ross." Mr. Matthews, my homeroom teacher grumbles angrily. I hear the amused giggles of my classmates, and my face goes warm. I pull the sleeves of my purple hoodie over my hands, so my fingers stick out a little. The class bell rings, finally.
The rest of the school day flies by in a blur of boring classes and staring at clocks, waiting for that final bell to ring and give me peace. Walking fast towards the entrance of the school, I spot my black Toyota Tacoma through the glass front doors. I quickly pull my keys out of my backpack. I fumble and accidentally elbow someone slightly. "Sorry," I mutter as I turn, keys in hand. I feel a tug on the back of my shirt. "Where do you think you're going?" A deep voice boomed behind me. I turn around to see a big blonde boy, his jaw clenched and his football jersey slightly stained. I turned around and booked it to my truck, trying not to trip. I felt a hand grab my hair and pull me back. I fell backward onto the asphalt with a thud, the sound continuing to rattle in my head. The guy got in front of me, casting a shadow over my small body. I stand up, and he slams his hands against my shoulders, pushing me back a step. "What the fuck, man?" I ask, him glaring at me. This obviously pissed him off.
He grabs my left arm with his big, ogre like hands. I feel a rush of anger warming my whole body and my heart begins to pound. I quickly drew my arm back an punched him square in the face. He let go and stumbled back. A crowd began to assemble around us. I clenched my fists inside of my purple hoodie. He stepped towards me. He draws back his arm and throws a punch. I duck and manage to throw a hook punch into his ribs. When he doubled over in pain, I kneed him in the face, and threw him on the ground. He looked at me and stood back up, obviously wanting to get a good hit on me. I got into my fighting stance and quickly threw an overhand right hook, and hit him right in the jaw. His body stiffens for a second and the crowd gasps. His body falls over and goes limp. I knocked the little bitch out.
People stared at the display wide-eyed. I quickly pushed through the crowd of people surrounding the fight scene and ran to my Tacoma. "Hey wait up," I hear a voice call behind me. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and quickly turn around with my arm cocked, ready to swing. "Woah, calm down little girl." I look at the boy. His round face seemed tough, but kind. He looked at me and whispered "That was quite impressive." He flipped his dyed black hair out of his honey brown eyes. "Who are you, exactly?" I asked, slightly irritated. "You got some attitude. I like that. I'm is Ryan Stone."
"Aren't you in my Math class?" I questioned him, a puzzled expression probably smeared across my pale face.
"Yeah, I am. I'm surprised you don't know me, considering it's late May..."
"Oh. Sorry," I muttered, "so why did you bother talking to me now?" He looked at me for a moment as if the answer was obvious. "I wanted to know if you wanna hang out later." I stared at him for a moment, questioning if I should go or not. I never have plans. I don't have friends. Maybe I'll spice things up a bit? "Phoenix?" Ryan asked, pulling me out of my cloud of thought. "Oh, yeah uh sure," I said he took out a pen and wrote his phone number on my wrist. "Text me later, don't forget." And walked away.
I get home and threw my phone on my bed, and look at a picture of me and my mom I had set up on my night stand. I look around my room. I see my dresser, which is where I keep my pocket knife while I'm at school. I walk over to the old oak dresser, and pull my knife out of my underwear draw, where no one wants to look. I go sit on my bed, which is just an ugly oak frame with my old, saggy, mattress covered in dark grey sheets, two matching pillows, and a black blanket.
I heard a knock on my door, and snapped my head towards the origin of the sound. "Come in," I answer. "Hey Phoenix, how was your day?" My dad asks. That's weird. He never asks me how my day is. He resents even talking to me. "Fine?" I respond, slightly confused. "Obviously not," he yells "I got a call from your school. You beat someone up. What the hell is wrong with you?"
My back stiffened. My dad walked towards me and stood in front of me with anger in his eyes. "Are you fucking stupid? You broke his jaw. Who has to pay for his medical bills? Me. Get the fuck up." I slowly stood up off of my bed, just to get pushed onto the floor.
My hateful father kicks me in the ribs, and walks out of the room. What a dicknose. I ran to my private bathroom and pulled off my shirt in front of the mirror. Sure enough, a giant swollen red spot resides on my side. "Fuck," I whisper. I quickly put my shirt back on and walk to my bed. I pick up my phone, and text Ryan with the number he wrote on my wrist.
"Hey, it's Phoenix."
"Hi, nice to see you actually texted."
"You act like I'm a coldhearted bitch with no regards to anyone, lol."
"Oh really?"
"Really." I laughed.
"Want to me at Rhodes Park right now?"
"Sure, see you there. I gotta take care of some stuff." I rushed to fix my hair and makeup, shoved my knife in my pocket, and ran out the door.
