1

I pulled my backpack towards me from the backseat and sighed as I noticed the mud covering it. Clearly, it'd been trampled on by the dreadful kids sitting in the backseat. My mind was already heavy with frustration.

Those damned kids were the downfall of my life.

Okay, well maybe they weren't actually. But they certainly didn't make my life any easier. That was for sure.

I wiped the mud from my bag and frowned as I rolled my eyes. At least the bag wasn't new.

I got out the car and gave the keys to Mia. She smiled at me and locked the car before turning on her heels  and heading her own way towards the school building. I scowled a little at the giant building filled with people I did not like.

Mr Jefferson, my therapist, always told me that even if I didn't like someone, I had to be nice to them. But it was proven almost impossible every day when I had to force my mouth shut so I wouldn't swear profusely at the people in the hallways.

"You don't mind driving home too, do you?" Mia turned around to face me as she walked backwards.

I shook my head at her, because driving home was routine at this point. My care home had a few children that attended high school. Mia and I were the eldest, and I was the only one with a license. So it made sense that I was the one to drive.

There were three others who travelled in the car with us; two freshmen and a junior. Back in the home, there were a number of kids all younger than me. They were a handful.

I didn't get along with anyone in my care home. I disliked all of them, and they disliked me all the same. Mia was the only one who I could smile at and sometimes mean it. Even though I liked her, I still wasn't really friends with her and I definitely wouldn't call us 'close'.

She was a popular cheerleader and had a mostly empty brain.

We were mutual with each other. If we weren't in the same care home together, we wouldn't even know each other's names. That was a guaranteed theory. Even Mr Jefferson agreed.

"Sure," I said.

Mia flashed me a grin before turning around and walking over to her group of friends. They greeted her with wide smiles and bear hugs that made me cringe and shudder at the same time.

I sighed as I pushed open the doors and entered the school. I clicked my tongue quietly as I headed down the hallway.

The talk of the school was the upcoming party on Saturday night. The school's most popular jock, Aaron Best, was hosting it at his famous mansion up in the hills.

He was a snob and an arrogant brat.

He was also Mia's boyfriend.

I screwed up my nose and tried not to think about the revolting kissing noises that I heard from Mia's room the night before. I resented having such thin walls and a bedroom next to Mia's. I heard all of Mia's giggles and all of Aaron's disgusting burps.

It was a little insane how much that kid burped.

"You have to go! Everyone will be there, and you'll regret it if you don't come," I heard one girl say as I walked.

Her friend, the one being convinced, didn't look convinced at all. She tossed her head back as she laughed.

"I'm not going to lose any sleep if I don't go," the other girl said.

I almost laughed out loud. I agreed on a spiritual level.

I didn't see the meaning in attending parties. They were just an excuse for people to get drunk and hook up. I didn't exactly see them as a milestone or something important in my life.

The only party I ever wanted to attend would be the one where I met the president, and I knew that was never going to happen.

I continued down the hallway until I got to my locker. The hallways weren't as busy, thankfully, and I could easily make my way past people.

Unfortunately for me, my locker was located right next to one of the most popular cheerleaders in my year.

It was always crowded around my locker because of her, and I couldn't find anything that I disliked more.

Okay, maybe I could. But that wasn't the point.

"Come on, Jessie. Show me what you're wearing! I want to know."

I paid no attention to the ongoing conversation occurring next to me, and fiddling with the lock on my locker door. It was broken and took at least three tries before it would open.

I needed a new one, for sure.

"No, Brandon. You'll just have to wait and see!"

I pulled at my lock and it didn't open. I wasn't surprised. I twisted it again and put in the code; pulled again and found it wouldn't open.

Total shock.

After another several tries at opening my locker, my anxiety rose high when I started to think it wouldn't open. I gulped anxiously and tried yet again.

Please open. Please open!

It didn't open when I pulled yet again. I thought about whether I should bang my head on the door or if I should cry hysterically and curl into a ball. I decided on option three.

Try not to panic.

"You definitely need a new one of those," I heard from behind me. I saw an arm reach across me and grasp my lock. One hard yank, and the lock opened.

I turned around, facing Brandon, the guy who was demanding to see his girlfriend's outfit. He offered me a small smile as I gawked at him.

He was prettier than I remembered seeing him the day before.

I heard taunting giggles from behind him and looked over his shoulder. I saw the group of snobby cheerleaders giggling, making fun of me. They'd never been a fan of me, nor my presence in the hallways.

Great.

"T—Thanks," I stuttered. Brandon shrugged at me and turned around, continuing his conversation.

I turned back to my locker and hurriedly grabbed my things in an attempt to get away from the snobby cheerleaders and gorgeous jock as quickly as I could. I fumbled with my books and all my things as I hurriedly shoved them into my backpack and slammed the locker door shut.

Damnit. Damnit.

After stumbling into my English class a full ten minutes early, I took my seat and placed my bag on the desk. I looked up when I heard a bang from the front of the room.

"In the name of God, Miss Wilson, why do you insist on getting here ten minutes early every morning?" Mr Ashby questioned me.

He was my favourite teacher. He taught with such passion that fuelled my own. I was a reader. Books took me away from the reality that was my life and made things easier.

I loved the way Me Ashby taught his classes. He was very blunt, always getting straight to the point, and never sugarcoated anything. My favourite thing about him was how he easily came back with witty responses to everyone's questions.

"Better early than late, right sir?" I questioned him.

His loud laughter and head shaking was my answer. "It's 'better late than never', Miss Wilson."

"You know what I mean," I said, flipping open a book to start on the day's reading.

The room was quiet a little longer. My head was in my book when I heard metal scrape across the ground. I looked up from my book and watched Mr Ashby pulled up a chair in front of my desk.

"Don't you have friends to go and hang with in the mornings?" Mr Ashby asked me. His eyes creased with concern.

I wanted to laugh, cry and punch him in the face.

He wasn't trying to be mean, but his comment stung anyway. I didn't have friends.

I didn't need them anyway, but that wasn't the point. I didn't have anyone to hang out with. I liked being alone. I had been alone for majority of my life. I didn't need people to make me happy.

"I don't need friends. I have books," I said.

Mr Ashby scoffed and shook his head. I arched my eyebrows at him questioningly. I wasn't sure if I wanted one of his lectures this early in the morning.

"Loser," he joked before getting up. The bell rung for class and I shook my head to myself as I continued reading my book again.

///

I got out the car and handed Mia the keys again. She didn't say anything as she took them from me and locked the car.

It was her car, but she didn't have her license. It didn't really make a lot of sense to me, but I didn't question it.

"Move, loser!" James scolded me as he pushed me to the side and ran past me.

I stumbled, managing to catch my balance before I could fall into the rose bushes. I rolled my eyes at him and continued walking again.

The foster home was huge. It was a large two story house, all white and gleaming clean. There were a total of about eight kids living in the house, and it was packed with children. Mia was the oldest and then it was me, but that didn't make me like it any more.

"Greta, can I go to that party tomorrow night?" Mia asked our caretaker as we walked into the kitchen. I set my bag down in the corner and walked over to the counter where the calendar marked the things that I had to do after school.

I was scheduled to make dinner, as I was every night.

"Party? Who's party?" Greta questioned. She offered Mia a brownie, freshly baked. Mia took it and ate it quickly before replying.

"Aaron's. It's at his house," Mia replied. I looked away from the calendar and walked towards Greta. The brownies looked great.

"Can I have one, please?" I asked Greta. She looked over at me, disapproval painting her face. I regretted asking.

Greta purely disliked me. She couldn't stand me whatsoever and hated my guts. I didn't know why, because I hadn't done anything to her, but she made sure I knew that she didn't like me.

"Do you really need it? You're getting fat," Greta scolded me. I bit down on my lip and cursed her mentally before nodding my head and stepping away.

She was one of my least favourite people on the planet.

"The party?" Mia tried again. Greta turned her attention back to her favourite child and smiled politely.

"Of course you can go, darling," Greta replied with a nod. Mia grinned and then glanced at me.

"Nevaeh has to come too," Mia said. I raised my eyebrows at her words. What the hell?

Me? Go to a party?

Ha! Comedy.

"What?" Greta asked.

She sounded like she was checking if she'd gone mad. Maybe we both had. But surely two mad people weren't hearing the same thing.

Dear God... I was losing my mind.

"Nevaeh has to come. I need someone to drive me, duh," Mia said, and it suddenly made sense.

Mia didn't want me to come just because she was being nice. She wanted something from me. That sounded normal.

Clearly Greta thought the same.

"Oh, right. Then, sure. Fine," Greta nodded. Mia said nothing else as she turned and walked away, heading up to her room.

"You need to clean up. The kitchen is a mess!" Greta said with a scowl. She looked at me, her eyes burning pure hatred through my soul.

I had a backbone, and I could stand up to people. I wasn't usually afraid to say what I was thinking, but with Greta, it was much different. She scared me, and she constantly downgraded me. I hated knowing that she was probably thinking all these terrible things about me.

Which is why I always did whatever she asked.

I looked at the kitchen. Everything that she'd used to make her brownies was collectively stashed in to the sink. It was piled up high and it was an embarrassment.

"Of course," I sighed softly as I looked all the dirty benches.

My head was heavy from the long day and my eyelids were drooping shut as I stood. I needed to sleep. But Greta was going to make me clean. She really did hate me.

"Dinner needs to be done by six. No later," Greta demanded.

She grabbed the tray of brownies and left the kitchen. I sighed and rubbed my eyes as I began to clean up.