Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

Author's Note: I promised myself I wouldn't start two stories at once, but plots just pop up in to my mind that I have to write them down. Forgive me for my uncontrollable inspiration!

As a reminder, I will be posting batches of chapters at a time because doing one at a time will make my muse deplete. I hope you guys are okay with that so you wouldn't have to wait. After the tenth chapter, I will schedule posting twice a week. Enjoy!

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Seriously, the lockers and I were practically best friends; almost every day am I either slammed onto them on my face or my back. Either way, I had no escape from the grasp of Taylor Villagomez, the quarterback and my own personal bully for no apparent reason. I think he uses me as some sort of confidence lifter, or punching bag, or stress reliever. Either way, I always ended up being thrown against the lockers. There were even notable dents that cause their owners to despise me. It's like they think it's my fault that I get shoved onto them.

Taylor's hands were grasping my biceps and my head was pressing as far back as it could onto the locker away from his face. "Where's my money, Stronghold?"

"I don't know, it must be in my wallet which is probably in my locker where all my other personal and worthy items are stuffed in; maybe I should go and get it for you so if you could just let go-"

"Shut up! God you're so freaking annoying." As he let go of me, I walked over to my locker and gave him the five dollars that was supposed to be for my lunch today, but it was hesitantly handed over to the bully and I tried not to look fazed by his intimidating stature. He thrust his body forward which made me cower and flinch while holding my arms up in defense. He and his gang of loyal followers laughed in mockery before they left my head shoved into my own locker.

"Dude, you seriously need to stand up to those guys once day," Mason said after approaching me a few minutes later.

"I won't; I don't like violence. It doesn't actually solve anything."

"Believe me, it solves a lot of problems like pent-up anger."

I rolled my eyes sarcastically. "Even though I'm a bit angry, I can't do anything. Look at him; he's like the freaking Spanish version of Jorgen Von Strangle without the military getup and white hair."

Mason just laughed before slamming my locker closed, hooking an arm over my shoulders as we walked to the cafeteria where he bought me lunch like always. I never liked taking money from Mason or allowed him to use it on me, but he always insisted and didn't mind at all. Since his mom was a real estate agent, he could afford to treat me to even a four star restaurant.

After school, Mason invited me over to his place because his mom was making chicken fettuccini and pasta and Mason knew that I couldn't resist Italian food. My mom didn't mind and told me to go ahead since she was working the night shift at the hospital. Mason lived in a more private area compared to the street I lived in which wasn't really far from his house. I don't really invite Mason over to our apartment a lot because it's sometimes messy.

"Thank you for having me over again, Mrs. Crawford."

"It's not a problem, dear. You're always welcome in this house."

I gave her a warm and thankful smile as I take a seat on the chair across from Mason. Mr. Crawford was out of town on a business trip so it was only the four us including Mason's younger brother Allen.

"So, how was school today boys?"

"It was as boring as always, mom," Mason rolled his eyes as he twirled his fork in his pasta.

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