The Hidden Truth

Prologue:

There are many things I could be doing on a Monday morning but what I'm doing at the moment wouldn't be exactly ideal for what i had in mind.

One of which is going over a topic that will come of no use to me in the future. I have a mock exam that's coming up on Friday and here I am sitting indian style staring at my poor excuse of normal handwritten notes in front of me.

I mean come on whoever created algebra was probably intoxicated with a high amount of fluid; that they created such a thing that would make our lives a living mess.

Uncrossing my legs and standing up, I walk towards the window. Sunlight streams as I open the curtains and guess who is strolling down the street. Drum roll please, yes it's the one and only famous asshole, Stiles Hendrix.

He had his gaze set down on the concrete floor, hands shoved in the front pockets of his skinny jeans; his hoodie on. Jeez, is this guy allergic to the sun or something?

I have to say this depressive, deary faze doesn't look like it's going to fade anytime soon. His attire isn't unusual today, it consist of wearing all black and pretty much blocking all sources of light.

He fumbles in attempt to open his house gate, In the end he jumps over it clearly not bothered and lazy in attempt to open it in the first place.

My house is situated right next to his house. You could pretty much say I have the perfect view of him from outside my two bedroom windows. One window is directly across his gothic room and the other window is opposite a derelict, historian building.

I've always wondered why he lives in some remake of vampire academy house. Don't get me wrong I love that show, but why on the earth would he be living there .. I mean he isn't a va- "Rory, get downstairs now you have school in thirty minutes" Grandad calls, or should I say, screams.

"Shit"

Amelia's going to murder me in ways that I can't even think of. I mean come on last time she threw a whole bucket of water on me and made me walk around school like some fish on dry land it looked like i was having a seizure.

"Coming!" I quickly scream back.

I look under the pillow for my phone and find 2 miss calls. One from an unknown number and the other from Amelia.

I text Amelia before doing anything.

To: Amelia. Meet me in the library at the beginning of first period. By the way, I'll take my own ride to school so don't bother picking me up.

From: Rory x.

Well at least now I know I won't be dead before I even step inside school.

I run to my closet and grab a plaid shirt with a grey cami , not the greatest clothes of all time but I'm late so who cares. I run in the toilet to have a quick shower. I'm out of there in 12 minutes. I quickly blow dry my sham of a hair and then grab my black vans.

I drag myself towards the mirror and my blurry reflection seeps through my peripheral vision. I grab my glasses off the desk near my bed and slip them on.

I'm not pretty. I'd say that I'm under average with my dark curly hair that ends beneath my average sized chest. Rimmed black geeky glasses, brown eyes and a nose ring which suits my well accustomed Pinocchio nose. That's all I am, average.

I grab my denim jacket and backpack and run downstairs as if my life is on the line.

The aroma of egg and waffles that attacks my sense at once, which just makes my day a bit better.