Two years ago I told my mom I needed help.

Early last year, I was put into rehab. Even though I didn't need it. Which they soon found out.

Last week my parents got divorced.

Four days ago I stole my principals car and drove it around the block.

Three days ago I got kicked out of my private school.

Three days ago my parents couldn't handle me anymore.

Two days ago I packed my bags, said goodbye to Toronto and my mom, got in a fight with my dad.

Yesterday I arrived in London Ontario to stay with my Aunt and Uncle.

Today, I sit in the office at Thompson High waiting for the welcoming committee to show. I was fiddling with a loose thread on my sweater when there was a tiny cough from my right. I looked up to see who was demanding my attention. It was your typical preppy teen girl. She had long flowing brown hair that framed her face perfectly and she was wearing a tight fitting top that showed just the right amount of cleavage, her skirt was of course of the miny variety it showed off her legs which were not very long, but they were muscular and her face was covered in expertly placed makeup. In other words she was very good looking.

I know many people would find it rude or offensive, how quickly I judged her appearance, but that is what I do, what I've always done. I think possibly I was just born to be that creep that all fathers and older brothers hate. The one that every girl must meet before she finds mister right and so that's the role I've played, I've always played. The way I look at it, I'm doing a good thing, every girl has to meet the wrong guy to find the right guy, but sometimes the wrong guy can be really wrong and sometimes he'll hurt her past fixing. So I'll be the safe wrong guy, I'll only hurt her enough to make her realize that she shouldn't be with me, she should be with Mr. Right.

My therapist thinks I'm gonna kill someone someday, I can't really blame him. Well he's never actually said it but trust me you can tell when someone is picturing you as a killer, you just know. It's not the greatest feeling, I've stopped going to him because I think he gave up on me. Actually sometimes it almost seems as if he wants me to believe I'm a creep. But that's a story for later, right now I'll get back to the present.

In the matter of time that I had taken in her appearance she must have said something because she was looking at me expectantly.

"pardon me," I said, "but I was a bit distracted (I added a seductive smile for extra effect) could you repeat that?"

"Oh, um sure," she said, smiling back at me I might add, "I asked if you were Truman French."

"Why yes I am," I said while getting up, "and who might you be."

"My name is Kendra," she stated, "I'm here to show you around Thompson High."

"Really?" I asked while taking her arm. She nodded yes

"Well lucky me," I exclaimed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That day I walked home with a very smug expression on my face I had only known the girl for one day and I already had her number. I looked down at the torn piece of paper in my hands she had pretty writing, it was large and very loopy. I doubted that she was going to get a call from me. She was too talkative and she was making it a bit too obvious that she wanted me. She would be too easy.

I stuffed the paper with her number on it into my pocket and continued on my way home. Or my new home anyways.

My parents were never able to agree on anything concerning me Mom wanted to send me to private school, Dad wanted me to go to boarding school "how about somewhere really faraway?" he'd said, Mom thought they should work out their problems and stay together for me, Dad screamed at her then threw whatever was in his reach at me and then he stomped out.

But the day finally came when they agreed on something, I was a lost cause. So they made the decision that they didn't want me anymore. That is why I am now in London Ontario living with Aunt Dorthy and Uncle Mike. By the way, Uncle Mike is my

Dad's brother. So he hates me too.

At least Aunt Dorthy can look at me without being disgusted. What else can I expect though? When I'm playing the creep.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I needed something that would give me attention. I need to do something that would make a good first impression. So I did what I do naturally I started rating the girls of Thompson High. It was perfect, I would immediately be categorized as a creep by every guy and every girl would be throwing themselves at me trying to raise their rank. Now all I needed was the girl. Confused? Well if I'm playing the creep I need to find that one girl, the one that will be my obsession. I will reel her in and trick her. Then I will break her heart and Mr. Right will step in and pick up the pieces.

I scoped the hallway I was standing in, searching for that girl. I'm never really sure what I'm looking for when I set out looking for my… hmm for a lack of a better term 'victim'. Although I'm starting to notice patterns in myself, I know that sounds weird but I do spend a lot of time thinking my life over, I've found that I usually go for someone who either looks sad or lonely, they're the easiest. But sometimes I like a challenge actually I usually take the challenge. That would be someone who has it all, beauty, popularity, personality and smarts. Those are the ones that don't fall into just any trap.

That's when I saw her, she was sitting on the staircase right in front of me laughing with another girl who I assumed to be her friend. I had honestly never seen anyone more beautiful. Honestly. I knew though that she was going to be a challenge, she wasn't going to fall for stupid seductive pick up lines. So I started playing my game right away, I walked by her slowly making sure I caught her eye. I could feel her stare on me even after my back was turned, but then it was suddenly gone. I turned around, the two girls seemed to be bickering. My girl seemed to be trying to get something from the other one and when the other girl finally gave in and told, she got suddenly angry. I wondered what could have upset her so much. The two girls got up and started waling down the hall so I had no choice but to continue waling to my class.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day was uneventful, I was frustrated to find my girl wasn't in any of my classes. But my rating system seemed to have worked people were acting as I expected. I spent most of the day trying to figure out what rating I ad given my girl, but I couldn't recall her face from the year book I had used to rate the pictures of the girls in my grade. Maybe, I though she in grade 11 not 12. That could be…

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I had almost walked right past my English class. My jaw almost dropped when I saw who was in there. It was My girl and sitting beside her was her friend, whatever they had been bickering about before had clearly been made up for, they were laughing and joking. Mental note; they are obviously very good friends. Trying to catch her eye, I knock her pencil off her desk and bend to pick it up and place it on her desk. I had planned to start flirting immediately, but when I straightened up and looked at her face, I was met with the most furious and hostile stare I had ever seen. I didn't know what I had done to make her so angry, maybe she really didn't like people toughing her pencils.

Her eyes were terrifying but beautiful, I found myself lost in them for a second. I gave her a smile then I moved on to sit at the back of the class. There was another boy sitting back there but I didn't get a good look at his face because his head was resting on his arm, he seemed to be sleeping.

I had only just sat down when the teacher started taking attendance. I listened carefully, waiting for when he would call my girl.

"Casey McDonald," he called.

"Present!" she answered very politely. Casey… hmm I like it. It suits her very well.

A few other names were called and then he called "Derek Venturi!" very loudly he repeated it again with an annoyed tone. I realized he was starring at the boy next to me. Casey had turned around and was glaring at him, "Derek!" she yelled, "Derek, you butt get up!"

He looked up startled, "w-what? What's going on-Oh." he looked at the teacher and announced "Here!"

"Clearly," the teacher sighed.

Then this Derek looked at Casey and gave her an amused grin. She rolled her eye's and faced back front. Mental note; these two obviously know each other better than just student to student.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That day after school I skipped my last class so I would be the first one out. Why? I was going to wait for Casey, my girl, then follow her home. I know what you're think and it's not what you- well actually it's exactly what you think, I'm staling her.

She took quite the amount of time to get out of school she was one of the last few, she was waling with her friend, Emily, who's name I had learned today in class. They were laughing about something but I didn't know what. I was staying far back so as not to be detected. But then I heard my name, it was said by Casey. I was interested now so I got a little closer just close enough to hear their conversation.

"Don't worry about it," Emily soothed, "that guy is just a jerk."

"GOD! Why is it always the jerks that are cute?" Casey almost screamed.

"You think Truman is cute?" Emily asked.

"Of course I do, and I know you do to." Casey said. Emilly smiled and they both burst out laughing.

"But we're both agreed they guy's a jerk right?" Casey asked. Emily nodded warily, Casey gave her a weird look but then she had to say good bye and head off in another direction.

I wondered what would happen if I dated Emily? Would it make Casey jealous? I bet it would, that would be the perfect way to make her fall for me. I'll make her think I don't care at all and then it'll make her care.

________________________________________________________________________

"Truman," my Aunt said while passing my Uncle the peas, "have you met any friends at your new school?"

"I've only been there three days," I replied.

"That doesn't answer my question," she scolded.

"No, I haven't met any friends." I sighed.

"Have you checked his bag yet Dorthy?" my Uncle asked. As though I wasn't hear. He is exactly like my father.

"Who's bag?' I asked.

"Yours" he replied simply.

"MINE! What for?"

"Drugs," he said with a sting of poison to his voice as if that one word was supposed to hurt me. I was almost ready to punch him right in the face.

"Well Truman, you have been caught with them before, you have to understand our logic it's only for your best interest."

"That!" I yelled, "IS WHAT THEY ALWAYS SAY!" I was close to tears now and I hid my face in my hands so my Uncle wouldn't notice.

"Truman," my Aunt said sweetly, "don't get upset."

"To Late!" I scoffed and with that I got up and walked out of the dining room. "I'm going to bed without dinner!" I called back once I was in the hall.

How could they be worried I might be bringing drugs into their home? Well, I have to admit, my Aunt did have a good point about my having been caught with them before, because I was, but my Aunt and Uncle don't care about me at all. So they honestly wouldn't care about my well being. Maybe they don't want me to get caught with them and then embarrass them in front of their neighbours. Or maybe they think I'm going to go all sadistic crazy on them, well it is my Aunt and Uncle we are talking about.

I remembered the last time the conversation had been brought up about me being a 'junkie'. My parents found ______ in my bag, and freaked out. I told them they weren't mine, but does anyone ever believe that? I was sent to rehab for several weeks before the doctors had to conclude I had never taken any sort of harmful drug before. I got home and my mom was all over me apologizing, my Dad, he was waiting for the moment I really would pop the pill. He wanted to catch me. Funny thing is, after rehab, I really did start the drugs, thanks to my awesome friends of course, and no has ever caught me since.

As I opened the door to my room and sat down at my desk, a thought occurred to me, I knew my girl's name now, so I could look her up in the year book from last year. I had it hidden under my bed because I was sure my Uncle wouldn't approve of what I was doing. I crawled under my bed to retrieve it, and then pulled it out and sat cross legged on the floor. I opened it to the 11th grade girls. "Casey McDonald, Casey McDonald," I muttered to myself as I tried to find the name. There she was, I couldn't believe the score I had given her when I saw it 6 ½, well her class picture didn't do her a lot of justice. Her hair looked as if it hadn't been brushed and she was wearing what looked to be a guys shirt. Wait a sec, there was a name tag attached to that shirt, Derek Venturi. I thought back to the way they acted in class, it was obvious they knew each other, but I didn't think that they could be a couple… when I actually thought about it, maybe they were. Now I was frustrated, if she already had a Mr. Right, then I couldn't be the Mr. Wrong for her. I don't know why I was so upset about this. I shouldn't be. I should be able to go find another girl to be Mr. Wrong for but I can't, I know I can't.

With those sobering thoughts, I climbed into bed and drifted off into a restless sleep. Images from my past floated by my eyes; there was a 7 year old me. Tears were silently streaming down my face as I listened to the horrible sounds from downstairs. My fingers were as deep into my ears as they would go and my bedroom door was closed but I could still hear them. They were getting louder, I heard my name yelled a few times and all I could think was if I hadn't set Dad off earlier today he wouldn't be screaming at my mom downstairs. Their voices were reaching a climax now, and I thought I was going to burst myself. Then there was a huge crash and a scream, my mom's scream, and all was silent.

"Mom!" I yelled. I got up from my cowering position on the floor, flung my door open widen and ran downstairs, there was shattered glass every where, glass from mom's flower vase. Mom was lying on the floor unmoving, I ran to comfort her but instead I was met with the strong arm of my father.

"I'll fix it," he said, "go back up to your room Truman."

"No!" I screeched, "No! NO MOM! No!"

"Truman shut up!" my Dad retaliated.

But I could barley hear him over my own screeching, I was bawling now and kicking at my Dads shins. He kept yelling at me to shut up, but I just kept on screaming for my mom. That's when it happened, he curled his hand into a fist and threw a punch right at my gut. It knocked the wind out of me, I wasn't screaming anymore, but I was crying even harder now.

"Get back to your room Truman, before I do it again," I looked up at the man who had just spoken those words to me. I knew he didn't love me. I knew they had never wanted kids. I just never knew he was capable of such damage. I got up and silently walked back to my room.

Someone was shaking me roughly attempting to wake me from my dream, I sat bolt up right in my bed almost knocking my Aunt right over.

"Truman!" she cried, "Oh thanks goodness, I heard you screaming so I came and I think you were having a nightmare. You were weren't you?" She had sat down at the edge of my bed. I think she wanted to hug me, but was unsure if it would be stepping outside our boundaries.

"I-I'm F-fine," my voice was racked with sobs. As it always was when I woke up from that dream.

"Oh Truman," she sighed, "wiping tears from my eyes. What could have made you so scared?"

"It's nothing" I said sourly hiding my face in my knees, this was embarrassing enough.

"If you're sure," she said looking at me with worried eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure." I said. I could tell from her expression that she didn't believe me, but she got up anyways.

"You might as well get up now, it's 7:00," she stated and with that she left.

I lay back down on my bed and put a hand to my forehead. It was damp with sweat. Just as it always had been. Except I haven't had that dream since I was 14, I hoped I would never have to live through that nightmare again. But as everything else in my life that I wished wouldn't happen, it happened.