A.N. Wow. So, it's nice to be back, and nice to have a vaguely unusual plotline! This story will, at some point have fluff, but the rating will go no higher than T, because I'm only fourteen, and therefore don't want to be going any higher!
The chapters in this fic will be named for the songs that inspired them and for nothing else.
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MPOV
I groaned audibly as the Room Advisor banged loudly on the door to the room that Lucy and I shared. With a sigh, I swung my legs out of bed, reaching for my hairbrush so I could detangle my madly tangled curls.
Sorting my hair out, I headed over to my wardrobe, pulling out a pair of dark blue jeans, a random long sleeved top and a cream woolly cardie-comfort clothes, something to combat the extreme warmth that is Sherwood Rehabilitation Centre, or SRC for short.
I'd been admitted to SRC two months ago, after my father noticed my new addiction to cocaine. What he didn't think about was why exactly I'd gone anyway near them. The drugs were just a way to escape, I suppose, from having to look after myself, all the time, having to really fight to get good grades at school so that I could get a good job. He put so much pressure on me, and although I knew he meant well, it didn't stop me feeling bitter about it. I'm fifteen, I'm supposed to angry and bitter.
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After breakfast, I had to go to a session with my counsellor, Dr Smythe. She could be nice, but her overriding personality seemed to be very blunt and sharp. She was almost certainly in the wrong job, and was well-hated by pretty much everyone.
However, today's was to be a short session, as she had decided that I could go home for a visit-finally! I grinned as I stepped out of her office, flinging myself down on one of the chairs in the waiting room, humming to myself. Much as I hated my father, he was the only family I had left now, and I loved him dearly.
However, as I glanced around, reading all the posters, I became aware that I was not alone in the waiting room-there was a boy sat about six seats down from me, staring off into space. He was sat alone, but he was new-I had never seen him before.
He was so good-looking too! Messy brown hair, and the deepest, sparkly green eyes that seemed to go on forever, the kind of eyes that you could get lost in and never find the way out of. He seemed to sense me staring at him and turned around, an unfathomable expression on his face. With a shake of his head, he turned back around.
Moments later, Dr Smythe stepped out of her room again.
"Robin Locksley?" she called, and the boy stood up, dragging his feet a little as he walked over to where she stood and was ushered into her room.
However, my thoughts were quickly diverted as another boy walked up to me, sitting down next to me before I could protest.
"Hello, Guy," I said, my voice and face expression-less. Guy Gisbourne followed me around the centre like a sick puppy-it was actually quite unnerving, particularly as he was not the kind of person you'd like to meet in a dark alley at three in the morning. He had black hair down to the bottom of his neck, black eyes that seemed to scream of evil, and the kind of face that just looks arrogant. I hated him, but he seemed to have fallen in love with me, and pretending to be friendly to him stopped the centre splitting off into two cliques, so I wasn't complaining, really.
"Sorry Guy, my father's over there!" I said brightly, grabbing the excuse to get away from him, although it helped that my father really was there.
"Hello, darling!" he said, hugging me as I ran up to him. This was my third visit since I came to centre, and although I still wasn't allowed an overnight stay, I was glad of the chance to get out of the place for a few hours, somewhere other than the boring excursions that they seemed to love taking us on.
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I climbed into the passenger side of my dad's big Chelsea Tractor, as I liked to call it. It was a huge Land Rover, which seemed very over the top as he lived on the middle of Nottingham, and only had me for family! I lectured him all the time, but had finally admitted defeat about a year ago, way before SRC.
As we pulled up the driveway, I saw someone hovering in the doorway and turned to my father, confused.
"Who's she, Dad?" I asked.
"That's my girlfriend, Isabelle." he replied calmly.
"Your what??!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with venom and anger, shock and surprise covering my face. How could he go off and get a girlfriend that looked to be at least twenty years younger than him and completely plastic. Fake tan, bleach blonde hair, blue eyes, everything but a personality. How could he get another girlfriend so soon after Mum died? She only died two years ago, and we'd both been completely in pieces over it.
"I'm sorry, Marian," he said, glancing over at me with a face filled with apology and sorrow. But that just didn't cut it for me.
"I'm not spending a day with the queen of plastic! Take me back!" I yelled, probably loud enough for her to hear, but I didn't care. My father took one look at my face and chose to take me back.
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He dropped me outside the centre, and I ran inside, not wanting to spend another moment with him. However, I ran straight into something warm and solid, something that caught me before I fell. I glanced up, and fell straight into those eyes. The boy from earlier-Robin.
I felt him chuckle as he realised I was staring again, I shook my head and smiled.
"I'm Marian." I said politely.
"Robin, though I expect you already knew that," he replied, a smile on his face.
"Yeah…sorry!" I laughed.
"It's ok," he replied, laughing with me. "Nice to meet you, Marian," he added, his tone changing to something I couldn't quite recognise. But it sounded sincere.
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A.N. I hope you enjoyed it-please review as reviews are like cake-awesome! But don't worry, I'm not going to be one of those people who won't post until they have x number of reviews!
Felineyx
