Chapter Three - Buttered Waffles & Familiar Faces

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I softly traced my fingers over the black ink that adorned the skin on my left rib. It had been a week, and I couldn't get enough of the little black bird flying out of the barred cage that had held it captive. Freedom, it read.

It looked strange on my body, like it wasn't a part of me. It didn't belong there.

I liked it though. A lot.

"Nina!" I was snapped out of my thoughts by my mother yelling at me from downstairs.

"What?!" I yelled back, quickly covering my tattoo back up and clasping my bra shut. I couldn't risk her seeing it, I had been paranoid about it all week.

The things she would do to me if she ever found out... I shivered.

"Breakfast is ready!"

"Coming!"

I quickly shimmied into my black knee length skirt and made made sure the white collar of my blouse was folded neatly around my pink cashmere sweater before stepping into my black shiny flats.

I studied myself in the mirror. My hair was brushed up into a tight ponytail and the bags under my eyes were covered with concealer.

Perfect, not a hair out of place. Just the way I liked it.

Today was the first day of senior year and I had spent all of last night preparing for it. I had reorganized my bookshelf, downloaded my schedule from the school's website, read the first chapter on each of my classes for today, packed my bag and most importantly, prepared my beginning of the school year speech. I had even gotten up extra early this morning to practice it.

I took one last lingering look at my bedroom, making sure nothing was out of place since I tidied it this morning, and then rushed down the stairs to meet my mother in the kitchen.

She gave me a warm smile as she sat down a plate of buttered waffles on the breakfast table. "Good morning sweetheart, how did you sleep?"

"I slept fine." I lied, I wasn't about to tell her my nerves had kept me up all night. I held the beginning  of the year speech at my school every single year, this year being no exception. It had always gone smoothly, until last year when Brody Woodward and his friends decided it would be funny to bombard me with their lunch.

They were suspended for a week. A mild punishment, in my opinion.

I feared this year wouldn't be any different. Principle Steward told me not to worry about it, and that she was sure Brody and his friends had learnt their lessons, but she didn't know Brody like I did. He was a bully.

I usually just ignored his antics, hoping for his sake that he would grow up some day, but today was different. I didn't mind Brody and his group throwing me childish remarks down the hall, but when standing on a stage in front of the entire school it was different. It was humiliating.

I couldn't let principle Steward down though, she counted on me just like every other year, and I wasn't about to let Brody Woodward or his stupid group of friends ruin my chances of getting a scholarship. I would get up on that stage and own it.

I smiled slightly at my own words of encouragement, but it didn't help the ball of nerves that had gathered in my stomach. I barely finished my breakfast.

The fifteen minute car ride to school was filled with several different breathing exercises, a nature sounds CD and my mother telling me stop acting ridiculous.

I ignored her though, if she had a problem with my nerve calming techniques, she shouldn't have insisted on driving me. Whose mother still drove them to school senior year anyway? As if my classmates needed more reasons to make fun of me.

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