Devil's Son |✓ (Book one Of the Van Dyk series)

2|Lunch

This is some hard Math. How the fuck do they expect you to do this at the age of fifteen? I don't get teachers, they require you to learn what took them years in one lesson.

It's my second day here, and so far I just get looks, no friends still, no one has come to talk to me or even try to be my friend.

Maybe it's the way I look.

I'm trying my hardest to get through this day, okay and this class is pissing me off with just its aroma and I can feel some asshole's eyes piercing into the back of my head.

I feel like everyone is looking at me... Well obviously, I'm the new girl.

Everyone just seems attached to new people like they've never met someone new before, there isn't anything special about me unless they think my childhood trauma is a fucking gift.

Or a bonus friendship.

I don't think anyone would wanna know what goes on in my life.

I'd just make them depressed with my fucking stories.

They probably wouldn't care that on multiple occasions I've nearly been raped, or that i've been groped non-consensually.

Oh, and they would probably laugh knowing I nearly fucking died because of my mother's medications.

Or that i'm not in contact with my mother.

I really don't understand people though, that could actually not like someone because of that.

Fuck I need therapy.

I look behind me to see whose eyes are digging into me. An annoying-looking asshole staring at me with blue fucking eyes.

I shake my head and raise my brows a little to gesture what does he want.

He just looks away.

Pussy.

I hear a ruckus happening behind me. I look back at the teacher and then not even a moment later my table is flipped and my things go everywhere.

I gasp. "What the..." I stop myself from cursing. It's that prick with the blue fucking eyes.

"You ass," I huff but instead of him walking away i'm shoved from my seat and I land on the floor.

"What is wrong with you Harley? She didn't do anything." A girl in a tight red outfit says helping me pick my things up.

It looks like a cheer outfit but they wouldn't wear them unless they are cheering right?

She has dark hair and it's in a ponytail.

"You okay the table didn't hit you did it?" She asks. "Just in the stomach a bit... What's his problem?" I whisper.

"He's like that with everyone, it's best to just not look at them, not speak about them, or even worse, talk with them," She says.

"Do the teachers do anything about this?" I ask.

"And what do you mean by them?" I ask. "Well there are nineteen of them, that's Harley the so-called 'strongest' of the group."

"And the teachers do nothing because all of their parents are I dunno what it is but something about the parents," She says fixing my table.

"Whos the weakest?" I ask.

"Some asshole I don't focus on their names the only reason I know Harley's is because he's in our class."

"Is anyone else in here an asshole?"

"Yeah, Robbie and Callum but they won't be so straightforward and public like some."

"In private they will probably hit you and do other shit," she says. The bell rings and I cover my ears from how rancid it sounds.

"That's lunch," she says.

"You can hang out with us, they usually some of the time stay away from us."

What are they? Fucking gang? They sound pathetic to me they just smoke pot and bully for fun.

Which is a sentence for calling them a loser

I don't understand how people can just be mean for no reason.

Like I didn't do anything but look at him questioning why he was looking at me.

Fucking prick.

I pack my things into my bag then I exit the class with her and unexpectedly I end up shoved to the ground again and instead of carpet burn like last time I get a deep graze from the concrete.

I wince and hold back tears.

That fucking hurt.

The girl helps me up. "Are you okay? I have no idea what's wrong with them," She asks.

"Fine as ever," I huff dusting myself off. I fix my skirt which everyone has probably seen up twice today.

So embarrassing.

My knees are bleeding and my ankle hurts, I think I twisted it. My elbow is also stinging but I can't see if there is anything on it.

"I have bandaids in my bag if you want them," She says.

"I'm fine i'm not gonna die," I say.

"I never got your name?" I ask. "It's Sophia but everyone just calls me Soph."

"I don't think yours has been mentioned either," She says. "Oh, it hasn't? It's Bella," I say.

"Short for Isabella?"

"No, It's short for Annabella," I say. "Aw, that's cute, I was expecting you to say it wasn't short for anything," she says.

My heart is still beating rapidly from that attempt on my life.

"My ankle is killing me," I say sitting down on the short cobblestoned wall.

"We could go to the nurses office and get an icepack?" she asks.

"No it's okay, I'll live," I say.

"If you say so, but don't go crying later to me," She grins then laughs.

I laugh with her. "Trust me i'm not a soppy bitch," I mumble. "I won't be crying to anyone but myself."

I heal my own suffering, I wipe my own tears and tell myself everything is going to be just fine.

What was up with that jerk? Did he wake up on the wrong side of the bed or get rejected for being a douchebag?

"Wanna go to the movies after school the new Captain America is there," she says.

Oh great a marvel fan she better not be one of those psychos that are all talk about it but leave before the credits are finished.

I'm more of a read a book that has a movie inspired by it kinda gal.

It's interesting to yell at when it's a change in the plot from the movie and then message the author about how disappointed I was for them that they changed it up!

Like how could they!

Like yeah, the guy is hot but nothing like the book character who happens to be fifty times more attractive than that real-ass human being.

Even though he isn't a real person just fictional I still think they are very sexy.

"Yeah, sure I'll come if my dad lets me," I say.