WARNING
I know I said I was going to edit this story but I never got around it & I decided to post it as it is because it's been a year and if I rewrite this, it'll lose its magic. I improved ever since I wrote Worth The Fight, and if I leave it as the first draft, I'll come here and see the change in my writing.
Therefore, take this into consideration while reading this. This story is not edited.
QUOTE OF THE CHAPTER:
"Better to be strong than pretty and useless."
― Lilith Saintcrow, Strange Angels
* * *
CHAPTER ONE:
Keeping calm is the hardest ever - even harder than Maths.
Especially, when Megan Holland, I-have-the-biggest-boobs cheerleader, intentionally hits me at the shoulder while passing by through the corridor. I immediately fixate my gaze on her, and simultaneously she smirks at me. In that moment, when I think a sorry won't suffice, she smirks at me - at Jack Pierce.
"Your sank-in-makeup face looks so entertained for my liking, Holland." I deadpan. She chuckles, patting my shoulder playfully - where does she find the courage? Then, she spins on her heels and walks at her locker as if I haven't just made a sarcastic comment. My eyes are locked on her, I'm planning for several death plans with gritted teeth.
There I am ready to go after her, knocking her head against her locker or tucking her inside her locker and lock it - but lucky for her, I catch Mr. Richardson's eyes on me - firm and suspicious. I smile at him in return, and he rolls his eyes at me. Even though I don't give a shit of what he would do to me, I walk away from Megan, for now.
Walking at the corridors is another torture - because I have to glare at every single person I exchange looks with, and it is a tiring process. A person as lazy as I am shouldn't attempt to be the enemy of everyone. Frankly, I didn't seek everyone's enmity - it's just happened. When I argued with dickheads who are like the popular circle of school, the lower circles started to go against me - believe me, I was sad at first. It is like a king losing the support of his folk. Because I believed some people liked me at school - yet, no one does.
Later, the nervous glares and sarcasm turned into harsher methods like punches and kicks. I knew it was wrong but it was an urge - it still is - that the way he or she looks at you or the way they talk makes you lose control of what you're doing. At first, it was just that - my weakness not to be able to control myself. Then, as I started to get loose, it became a way of entertaining myself. I liked the way people suffered - those painful moans, the horrified looks and sometimes bloody faces. I see those scenes as the reflection of my inner - chaotic.
I've never got suspended though. It is surprising but believe me, threats work. "Would you want to get another bruise on your pretty face? Tell anyone what happened, then you are dead." Everyone knows who causes the trouble - a.k.a me - but no one tells teachers. Stupid and scared people - totally my favourite.
Megan is like the wicked witch of that forementioned famous circle and if Richard wasn't her boyfriend, she wouldn't be who she is now. Richard is all she trusts and the proof is her previous daring and disgusting smirk at me. She isn't scared of me because she knows her boyfriend will stand up and protect her. Yet I'm not scared of her knight in shining armor, either. Not even a tad bit.
This is why I have her tucked in the girls' bathroom, after school when everyone is gone.
We have a common class before school so I make sure to keep myself awake during the class not to miss her, and when the lesson is done, I grasp her arm and drag her with me. She murmurs some 'what the hell' and 'leave me' during the way but she just gulps down when I bring her and lock the door behind myself - yes, I stole the key. "If - if you touch me, I'll make sure Richard kills you and..."
"Say hi," I chirp sarcastically. "And bitch please, leave your boyfriend aside for a while, there's only two of us here." I mimic the way she talks and it is really the highlight of my day - a trembling Megan Holland in front of me. I pat her shoulder as she stares at me with horrified eyes. "Don't be afraid darling, we are just joking around."
"What are you gonna do to me?"
I laugh. "I'm still thinking." She blinks at me, bemused. "I think my focus will be on your face."
"Please," she stutters, "Jacqueline..."
"Jack." I correct her sharply.
"Jack," she repeats in hesitation, her voice covered with fear and hesitance. "We are friends."
"Oh, are we?"
"Yes, of course!" She adds with a hint of hope, laughing awkwardly. "I was just - it was my way of saying hi - what I did in the morning at the corridor I mean - it was just a simple greeting."
"Oh babe, let me give you," - I punch her in the face, which gets her knocked on the ground - "a greeting in return." I complete my sentence, folding my arms together with a satisfied smirk tucked on my lips.
She looks up at me, still on ground with her mouth open and she withdraws her hand from her cheek, peeking at her palm, then turning her gaze on me again. "What the hell!" She yells. "What do you think you're doing, bitch?"
"Greeting you," I say, chuckling. "Since our methods are different, I thought I was being unfair to you so here is your hi." I roll my eyes. "Don't go against me, Meg. I assure you this is the least I can do if you open your mouth."
"What are you?" She asks seriously.
"Your nightmare." Then, I walk to the door, turning the key and pulling it open. I turn back for a last glance and she is still sitting on the floor with a horrified and painful look on her face. Her cheek is reddish but I am sure it is going to look worse as time passes. "Do I have to inform you about what happens when you tell anyone about this?"
"You don't scare me," she hisses. "I'll tell everyone - you will get the fuck out of this school, Pierce!" She shouts furiously.
"Say hi to Ric." I ignore her comment. "Hope he likes your new face better, now it's more colourful." I laugh at my own joke - waving her goodbye and slamming the door behind.
Three hours after, when I'm home, Mum prepares dinner at kitchen and Dad watches documentary on TV. I sometimes don't understand why I am their daughter or why they are my parents. I don't deserve them.
I'm in my room, pretending to study as usual but actually watching the last episode of my favourite show. The best thing about my parents is that they look like they care but they actually don't have time or fuck to care. They are both hardcore workers, and when they are home, they are too busy with their own business to care about me. I don't complain about that though, since they buy anything I tell when they ask how my day passed. "It was nice." "It was good." "My grades are okay, Mum." "I have amazing friends, Dad, yeah they love me."
They are all bullshits and it's so sad I'm the only one who knows.
Suddenly, Mum yells from downstairs, and I force myself out of my bed, walking down the stairs. The smell makes my stomach growl with hunger and I lick my lips. Lasagna. My favourite.
When I sit down at the table, they smile at me and I fake one in return. I don't lose another second to devour my lasagna, eating as a pig and probably, without what they call table manners. I must look disgusting but who gives a fuck? Not me.
"How was your day, honey pie?" Mum says sweetly and I can't help but scoff at honey pie. I look like a cow rather than honey pie.
"Good," - I chew my delicious lasagna breathlessly - "it was - oggkhkay."
"I'm glad!" She grins. "What about you, David?"
Dad is busy with staring at the phone screen while holding his fork - his meal untouched. I peek at his plate for a second, thinking of eating but then, I shake the idea immediately. He doesn't hear it so Mum repeats. "David."
"W - what, honey?" What's with this honey talk?
"I asked you a question."
"Sorry darling, I was checking my mails."
"I'd be glad if you spare yourself from work at table."
"Yeah," he says thoughtfully, pushing the phone forward. "You are right." He grins. "What did you ask?"
"How was your day?" Mum asks, annoyed.
He sighs. "Busy. We are preparing for important events and my boss is never satisfied."
"But you work hard," Mum denies. "What else can you do for him? You are very dedicated."
"I know, but nothing satisfies that man." I'd have said that bastard. Because from what I gather, he is just one of them.
Mum smiles. "Just try your best."
"I do." He grins back.
I don't understand how they can stay optimistic. I think I'm not their daughter - I have no similarity with them. Nothing. When the table conversation bores the hell out of me, I decide to find an excuse and sleep.
"Mum, Dad," They look at me with big smiles. "I need to sleep - going to, erm, have a quiz tomorrow and I want to have enough energy."
"Right, darling, give us a good night kiss."
I roll my eyes but they don't see it anyway. I fake a smile and let them kiss me on cheeks, then head to my bed and finish the rest of latest episode.
Next morning, I wake up with the sound of alarm: 6:35. Wait, I don't have an alarm - what the fuck. I wake up, rubbing my eyes and looking around. I fell asleep last night with my computer open and its battery is about to die. Sorry babe. I am still curious why an alarm is set and why specifically at 6:35.
When Mum steps inside with a sickening smile, I get what is going on. Assumption 1) She set the alarm. But the question is why? And question 2 is how can someone be so happy and calm in the morning? How can someone be a morning person whatsoever?
"Good morning darling!" She exclaims, making me jump in my bed. I rub my face once again, letting another growl escape my lips. "I set your alarm earlier because aren't you supposed to be at school at 8? Someone called from your school - your advisor she was I guess - and she told me that you're being late. I insisted that it wasn't on purpose but she said it is a regular issue. Is this true?" She inquires with a frown.
"No," I lie. "She doesn't like me."
She gasps. "Why would someone not like you?"
"I dunno, Mum. Now, I'll sleep if you let me."
"Darling, I'll take you to school today."
"Why is that?" I ask, my eyes wide open. What happened to that rule which she doesn't give a fuck about me?
"I want to spend more time with you, Jacqueline," I grimace at the name. My name is Jack - Jacqueline is my long lost sister. "So why not?" She grins with a satisfied smile and I can't help but smile in return. Not because I feel it, don't get me wrong, I don't want to hurt her.
In 30 minutes, I am prepared and ready to go to school because Mum keeps asking me if I'm ready. I hurry up with the pressure and now, I'm in car with my mother who is driving with a ghost of smile, her eyes fixed on the road. A silly music fills the car, jazz or something, and I think if a morning could go worse.
She glances at me from time to time, and throws a happy smile when our eyes meet. She is just so happy and I feel so sorry for her - she has a daughter like me. Something must have gone wrong throughout the birth.
15 minutes later, I am getting off from the car, shooting a thank you grin at Mum who waves at me in return and I notice this is a record for me - I am on time for school, even a bit early. I head inside quickly, walking at my locker and tucking my bag inside. Then, as I slam the locker, my eyes meet Megan's brown ones (now with purple-ish circles around.) She looks at me with a furious expression that makes me laugh. I bite my lips not to but a tiny laugh escapes from my mouth. Of course, I don't complain about it.
She drops her gaze with gritted teeth but I know she tries to hold herself from coming back at me. Yet she knows what happens when she tries to go against me - what I genuinely wonder is whether she told Richard.
It doesn't take long for my question to be answered.
I spot Richard walking towards Megan, placing a soft kiss on her forehead and then, passing by me. For an instant, he stops at a position that's enough for me to hear his whisper.
"After school, at Gwen Park." His calm and steady voice doesn't make me startled or frightened but I assume it's the effect he wants to use on me.
"Will be there to knock down your teeth and hand you, Ric." I melodically reply, with a smile like Cheshire cat.
He snaps his head at me with his jaw tightened and he raise his hand for a second - then drop it immediately, squeezing his hand into a fist. You don't have to be smart to fathom that he is trying hard not to start the fight here - but the problem is I love the way it goes. Therefore, I'm going to push it to the fullest to see him suffer.
"If you have a working brain, you won't come." He adds dryly. I can spot Megan after him, standing at her locker with satisfaction and joy.
"Well," I say, with a feigned smile. "My brain doesn't work that way, babe."
"Then make sure to bring your helmet, Pierce, you'll surely need it." He deadpans sharply, his gaze lingers on me more than necessary.
Then, he walks away from me and my hands are already itching.
That bastard doesn't know who he is playing with.
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