Mom still looked shocked when we all entered the house. I looked around and everything was clean and organized. I made a face. What? I'm so used to dads crap everywhere and smelling like alcohol and weed. This house is strange as fuck.
"Where am I sleeping?" I asked quickly.
Mom sensed I didn't want to be in here.
"Upstairs on your left. Why?" She asked me.
I made a face. "House smells like bleach and looks too damn clean." I said truthfully.
Mom frowned at what I said but she didn't get to say something cause I left. I walked up the stairs and turned left to my room. I entered and all my stuff was in here. I sighed. I unpacked everything and my new room was a mess.
I got on my bed and felt smugged. There was a knock on my door.
"Come in." I said.
It was the dude that kept stairing at me. Man did I already forget his name. He looked around.
"Not much of a clean person huh?" He joked.
I shrugged. "Na. I prefer this style cause I know where everything is." I said blankly.
His eyes landed on something and I looked. I grinned and grabbed it. I unscrewed the cap and took a big gulp. He chuckled and sat down on my bed.
"I see you had a horrible life?" He asked me.
I shrugges. "I loved it." I said boredly.
He chuckled and took my bottle out of my hands. I frowned. Noone steals my bottle out of my hands. He took a gulp and handed it back to me. I got up feeling mad.
"Let's get things straight, noone touches my crap without my permission. Okay? No touching and we'll be fine. Touch my crap, you'll be in shit." I warned him.
He brought his hands up in surrender. "I will not touch it again. I promise." He said truthfully.
I nodded and kicked him out of my room. I got on my bed and finished my bottle of straight tequila. I hid the bottle and passed out. I was woken up by someone turning on my lights. I growled loudly.
"Wake up hun. Time to get ready for school." She said.
I groaned and told her to leave. I got up and entered the restroom. I looked in the mirror and my eyes were bloodshot. I sighed. I did my business and entered my room. I changed into some black baggy skinnies, and a purple spaghetti strap shirt. I pulled on my black socks and converse. I left my room with my iphone in my hands and entered the kitchen feeling tired as hell. I yawned and smelt food. Mmmm. Food. I saw mom cooking some french toast and I grabbed a plate.
I fed me some that were already ready and poured maple syrup on them. I dug into them and in 5 minutes, they were gone. I heard footsteps coming and heard them enter the kitchen. I looked up and saw my two brothers and step dad. They all smiled at me and I shrugged.
"You skipped dinner last night." Old man said.
I snorted. "So. I don't do dinner. I eat when I want to." I said blankly.
He frowned. "Well you need to eat dinner with us. You're eating breakfast with us so you can eat dinner with us too." He said.
I rolled my eyes. I looked down at my plate. It was empty and looked back up at him.
"Who said I was going to eat with yall? I just finished and this is the first time I ate in the morning. So you better be getting used to me not eating with yall." I said putting my plate in the sink.
YOU ARE READING
The fighter falls in love
Teen FictionSkylar is an illegal street fighter who gets abused at home by her father. One night, her father takes the bullet instead of Skye. She gets shipped off to her mothers where she gets into more fights and meets a boy, Hayden. Hayden's shy and gets bul...