"He has a motorcycle."

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Rey's POV

I watched my mother in awe as she slammed a piece of paper in front of me. It was the first day of summer vacation, and she was already pissed. I wish my dad wasn't gone on his business trips so much, so he would keep her sane.

''What's this?'', I asked with my mouth full of Lucky Charms.

''THIS is your report card from Sophmore year, princess.''

I hated to be called princess. It made me sound girly, which I was not. I loved to skateboard instead of going shopping, I loved to read books instead of partying and going out with friends and I definitely loved playing with my dog instead of making out with some guy. I tried it once, at a party, and I almost ended up in the hospital because I choked on his lizard tongue.

''So?'', I asked again, leaning in to see what she was pointing at.

''Nothing above B.''

''Look at it this way, nothing below D except of English.''

She pulled the paper back, making a disgusted face. Oh how she loved playing the drama queen.

''You're drooling milk all over the paper.'', she spat.

''Well if it's such a shitty report card, then why do you care?'', I mumbled wiping the table with my sleeve.

''Because you're average.''

I gulped down the cereal, almost having a heart attack when it went down the wrong pipe. ''Is that a bad thing?''

She expected me to be perfect. Like those girly girls you see on TV with loads of makeup, hair extensions and high grades. I wore makeup, because I got insecure of my face and body (who hasn't?) and sometimes I would dye or dip dye my hair in different colours, but I would never wear extensions. Imagine choking on fake hair as the wind slaps you in the face. No thank you.

''I want you to be above average.'', she continued, picking at a stain of dirt on the table.

''You mean perfect.'', I corrected her, slightly angry that she complained. I could be doing drugs or shag a guy every night. Didn't she realise how lucky she is?

She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off by jumping up from my seat and pulling my sweatshirt down. Oh, and she hated the fact that I wore sweatshirts. It was too 'boyish' for her. Ever since my brother left for college two years ago -he was the perfect kid by the way-, she wanted to turn me into him, except for the way I dressed. She wanted me to dress in high heels and dresses all day long.

Sometimes she would tell me I'm useless- which to be quite honest I was- but it didn't bother me. I never really cared about other people's opinions.

''Well school's over already so there's nothing you can do about it. Now can I go out and skate-''

''I've had enough of your moods, Delilah!''

I winced at her calling me by my middle name. Not many people knew about my middle name, mainly because I hated it. But my mother didn't care about my humiliation, she always called me 'Delilah' when she was angry, which was basically all the time.

''What moods mother?'', I spat annoyed.

''You're constantly grumpy! Maybe you should get some friends!''

I pressed my lips into a thin line. She did not. Fuck you, I thought as I stomped up the stairs, slamming the door behind me. I jumped on my bed and yelling into my pillow as loud as I could, getting all my anger out. This was going to be a long summer.

Two hours later, I was on my bed, with my laptop on my lap, on Tumblr. A lot of teenagers saw the summer as an opportunity to have fun, go to parties and get drunk. I, however, spent ALL my summers inside on my MacBook, occasionally going out just to skateboard or to walk with Tony, my puppy-Bulldog.

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