California's bad boy

I'm Brooke. A lot has happened in the past year. My dad, the party, and now were moving. My mom said California isn't as bad as I think. She was dead wrong. The second I walked through the door, I was an automatic outcast. Is that suppose to happen? The brave people try to talk to me but the minute they get to close, I push them out. I know that's the problem but some questions I don't want to answer and they don't stop pushing for answers that I don't want to give. It's just this one guy that seems determined to figure me out, but I don't know if I should let him.