Strawberry Milk [COMPLETED]

❧Chapter Two

The tears were running so fast down my cheeks, I couldn't wipe them quickly enough to avoid any strange looks from passerby. I was so lucky that there weren't many people walking at this time, or I would have looked like some raggedy kid who couldn't control their annoying emotions.

...Oh wait. I AM a raggedy kid that can't control her annoying emotions!

"As if wearing a skirt ain't bad enough! Now I can't stop crying cause I'm too sensitive!" The back of my hand rubs at my flushed cheek. My skin is so cold from the cool air hitting my wet skin. I look down at the clear droplets and blink at my blurry reflection.

Why am I crying so much? I wasn't supposed to let anyone see me cry. That was the deal I'd made with myself years ago when I realized everyone turned into jerks after elementary school. I was supposed to be that tough loner nobody liked -- the one nobody messes with.

I just took on a group of 4, laid 'em all out on the ground, and now I'm crying cause someone tried to make a fool outta me? What the hell?

"Take a big, deep breath.." I say automatically, seeing my mother's youthful face in a warm memory. She used to say that to help me calm down, patting me on the shoulders as she did so. I can still feel her warm hands on my shoulders, comforting me.

Those words still seemed to work even though she was dead.

As if the words were magic, I can feel myself starting to calm down with every deep breath I take. I let out the emotions I feel with a sigh.

Don't cry over garbage like him..

I was teased for not being as feminine as the other girls since a young age. They all said I was weird, and I only made a few friends. The first time I assume I actually like a guy, he turns out to be fake a breaks my heart! Why did that hurt so much, if I didn't actually like him?

I'm still upset the next moment, but at least the tears are gone. I run my hands through my hair and wince at the contact made on my scalp. Someone must have pulled my hair.

Stupid boys can't make a fist, but they can pull hair. Sad excuse...

I reach up to wipe my dirty, tear stained face. I couldn't look like this when I got home. My father didn't mind me fighting as much, but his new wife did. My stepmother was so weird and the complete opposite of me and my father. I can't remember for the life of me how those two even met, but they were so in love, they probably don't even remember.

Chisame was a businesswoman and the very definition of elegance, while we were low class folk just trying to get by.   With her marrying into our small family, though, she had so much money and his endless desire to pamper us both. I can't tell you how many glitzy dresses she's bought me that are hanging up in my closet. I keep telling her I don't want to wear them, but it just makes her want to buy even more!

Chisame was all about being girly and said she saw a princess blooming on the inside when she looked at me.

"What the hell does that even MEAN?" I say aloud, just thinking about it. I tended to do that when I was alone.

"Talking to yourself?"

When I thought I was alone.

I wince when I hear a boy's smooth voice coming from behind me in response to my outburst. I wipe my face one last time and slowly turn around to face him. As I turn, I slide my bangs back from my forehead.

"Just thinking out --" I try to answer back, but I forget what I was going to say the very moment I see him.