Convict H.S/M.C. (Complete)

Chapter 1

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I was hesitant to open my eyes, knowing that once they had opened, it meant I had to get up and "be awake'. I am not a morning person, and needless to say, I hate having to wake up. Leave a warm, comfy bed, for what? Food, housework, school? Not worth it in my opinion. But remembering it was a Saturday, I decided to go ahead and get up since there wasn't any school to dread. I opened my eyes and glanced around my room, taking it all in. My clothes scattered somewhat on the floor and back of my chair, photos of me and my friends hanging in the walls, Pika my dog laying on her bed still asleep, the red mark on my calendar- wait, what? I jerked up so I was sitting and then hurried over to where my calendar hung on the wall. Today was marked in permanent red ink from my sharpie and panic spilled into my system and spread like fire. Today was the day. THE day. I'd marked it several weeks ago when my mom had first told me of her "great plan", and had been dreading today with such a passion.

Today my mom, was going to bring home a delinquent. A 17 year-old criminal who'd spent some time (I forget what she'd told me) in jail. Yes, jail. He'd been put in for his own good according to my mom, and upon being released he'd have nowhere to go and she signed us up to take him in.
This wasn't anything new to my mom actually. Her family had always done it and she'd done it herself a few times before I was born. Her being a single mom, thought she had her hands full enough with me, but now she felt ready to do this again, apparently. But I sure didn't feel ready to have some creepy, random criminal teenage boy living in the same house as me.

(Flashback) "that's just creepy!" Eleanor exclaimed as me and my friends all sat in the cafeteria. I'd just told them about how my mom was going to be taking in a young convict in a few weeks. And no one really liked the idea any more than me. "Doesn't he have parents he can go home to?" Louis asked, from his seat next to his girlfriend, who's just told me the situation sounded creepy. "Apparently they died when he was younger and he's been in foster homes before he was arrested." I repeated what mom had said with a roll of my eyes. "Hope he's nice." Niall said before stuffing his mouth with his lunch. "He was in jail for a year, Niall. I don't think he's going to be too friendly." Liam scoffed. "Is he going to be coming to school with you?" Liam's girlfriend Sophia asked. I shrugged my shoulders in response, knowing wether or not if the boy was going to be attending school with me. "Let's just hope he doesn't side with Zayn and his friends." Eleanor spoke up. And we all glanced over at the "gang table", as we all called it. Zayn was the school's head bully who ran his own little gang of evil helpers. Justin was his right hand man and the whole school feared the group of tattooed bullies. All I could hope would be that this convict boy wouldn't be anything like them. (End flashback)

I got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen where I found mom making breakfast. She turned around to see me sit at the table and she smiled warmly. "Morning. How're you feeling today?" She asked, with her usual "nothing's ever going to go wrong" tone that she always had. "Mom, couldn't you call the jail and tell them you can't take in the boy?" I asked, not bothering to answer her question. Her smile faded only for a moment before it returned and she brought the pan of eggs and sausage to the table and sat down. "No, I can't. Besides it'll be fun for you. He's your age, and you two will be great friends." She smiled while fixing both our plates. "Oh, sure. I'd love to become friends with a convict." I sarcastically huffed. "Miley, please don't make this difficult." She sighed and I knew to just drop it right there. We'd had these types of conversations before and she always won. "I'm going to pick him up in an hour. You might want to do something with your hair, it's going kind of crazy." She chuckled as he ran her fingers through my short hair. I pulled my head away and ran my own hand through my hair to try and calm down the every-which-a-way parts that stood up. Last month i'd decided to cut my hair super short into a fauxhawk and I was absolutely loving it.

So here I am, two hours later, scurrying through the house, making sure the whole place looked perfect. Straightening pillows, dusting table tops, sweeping the kitchens floor, and i'd already made sure the guest room was perfect for the prisoner- sorry, the boy, who's name I still didn't know. Any minute now my mom would return with him and I'd find out just what this boy who was the same age as me, looked like. And i'd find out just what kind of person i'd have to be sharing my home with for some lengthy and unknown time. As I looked around, deciding that everything was absolutely perfect and spotless I headed for the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water when I heard a car door slam. It nearly made me drop my glass of water, but I managed to set it down without breaking it and I ran to the living room. I checked myself in the mirror to make sure I looked presentable. I'd decided to wear my black shorts and plain grey tank top, and minimal makeup. I'd also fixed my hair so it wasn't sticking up in every direction and it stood now in a simple fauxhawk. I smiled at myself in the mirror, proud of myself for looking so casual, yet nice.

Suddenly the front door opened and my mom walked in. My heart rate sped up and I felt butterfly's in my stomach as I waited for this boy, whoever he may be to walk in behind my mom. And then, into the house walked a tall, lanky boy with a headful of brown curls and eyes of emerald green. His skin was so tan he looked like he'd been on an extended Hawaiian vacation, and he had many scattered tattoos on his muscular arms. His clothes looked a little worse for wear, but they suited him perfectly. Skin-tight black skinny jeans, worn out brown boots, a dirty white t-shirt, and a red plaid shirt. He was breathtakingly beautiful.

His green eyes met mine and we stared at each other for what felt like a really long time though I know it was only a few seconds before my moms voice snapped me out of whatever trance this inhumanly handsome boy had put me in. "Miley, this is Harry. Harry-" "this is Miley. Yeah, I got that." He sarcastically snapped, rolling his eyes. And in a flash my admiration for him dropped low. He may be handsome, but he's a jerk. My mom looked at me with a fake smile as he walked past both of us with an old brown backpack in his hand and disappeared into the kitchen. I glanced after him and mom hurried after the moody boy. "Uh, harry, what're you looking for?" Mom asked once she'd caught up to him. "I'm thirsty." He replied with a tone and expression like she should have already known that. And then he grabbed up my glass of water and drank the whole thing. "That was mine." I snapped, sounding cold which was what I wanted. He's not the only one who can act like such an uncaring jerk. My mom turned to give me a "don't" look and I watched Harry smirk as he picked the glass back up and lick all around the rim of it. "Yours, huh? Sorry about that." He continued his evil smirk and I gave him my most hateful glare I could and mom sighed loudly. "Okay. Harry, I'll show you to your room." And that's when I knew it. My life had just become a living hell.