Changes

Chapter One

Hurt.

Alone.

Betrayed.

I lay on my bed and have these words float around in my head.

I was being transferred to a school for kids who have "anger issues" and tomorrow was my first day as a senior at West Coast High School for Troubled Kids.

Ugh.

It's not my fault I'm like this. I had parents who loved me when I was young, but then gradually the words started coming in as I got older; I don't care anymore, they're dead and I no longer need to worry about them anymore.

It's just Mark and I in this big mansion.

My parents were billionaires and owned a line of buildings all over the world. I hated it and still do because of all the fame I get wherever I went. People thought I was America's angel, but the truth was, I wasn't. I was a teen that had problems. My parents insured ensured the world thought I was perfect and did everything they could do to keep it that way. There were times where I was exposed, but I didn't care, and even now...I just don't care. They only cared about money and their image.

Every now and then the words haunted my head and my brother forced me to go to therapy like he did. I told him not everybody can be helped—and so I never went to see one.

I eventually dozed off and woke up the next morning to the sound of my alarm and the rays of sunlight pouring through my window.

"Ew. Sunlight."

I took a quick shower, and put on this disgusting uniform and black combat boots and headed downstairs.

"What's up, Mark?"

My brother turned away from the stove and starts started screaming, "Trying to figure out how to make pancakes without burning them again!"

"Ugh. It's not hard to do. Let me take over."

Fifteen minutes later we had pancakes and ate in silence until he brought up the question I was dreading for him to not ask...

"Are you excited about starting your last year of high school?"

"Absolutely not, but I have to go because YOU want me to have a diploma."

"Come on, you'll thank me one day."

"Yeah, whatever. And what about you? How are you doing as a CEO?"

"I'm doing fairly well."

"Cool."

I stand up and put my dishes in the sink and pat my brother's head while heading towards the garage door.

"I have to go now, so, can I take one of the cars in the garage?"

"Yeah, sure. Please bring them back in one piece."

"OK," I said that with a mischievous smile. When Mark noticed my smile, he knew he made a bad decision.

I walked past the rows of cars and picked a black sedan.

My "father" loved driving and his cars, and he never let anyone use them, but that is just old news now.

I got into the car and drove to the school that would be my hell.

When I came to school I headed towards my first class, and I guess the late bell already rang because when I entered the class everyone was staring at me and the teacher was lecturing them.

I went to a seat far away from everyone else and looked away. I could hear the screeches of the chairs scurrying away from me and the hushed comments that followed.

"OH, NO..."

"Isn't that the girl who beat up Charles?"

"Isn't she the daughter Michael and Cassandra Cullen!?"

"You would think someone like her would have better attire."

"I don't wanna mess with her..."

Just then the comments hastily stopped as the students' gaze went towards the door, followed by my gaze as well.

And there stood a dark-brown haired boy...