Chapter 1

Author's Note: Well, here's the first chapter! I hope you guys will follow this story! ^-^ I hope you guys like it!


Mitchie POV

Ding! My computer rang, telling me someone wanted to chat with me. I saw it was SierraStar123, and I clicked open the chat box.

SierraStar123: Hey, Mitchie, we need to talk.

I sighed. I didn't want to talk to her, but I knew I had to. I'm actually going back to normal school today as a junior, and Sierra just wanted to make sure if I was sure about it. I mean I have been stuck in homeschooling since the second semester of seventh grade because I was a victim of really cruel bullying.

MitchieMusic: I know.

SierraStar123: R u sure about the school thing?

MitchieMusic: Yup.

SierraStar123: I still don't get y. High school is just drama, and I bet oakland high is the number one definition of drama. And what happens if you go back to…

MitchieMusic: Cutting? Barfing? I haven't been doing that for 3 yrs, thanks to homeschooling and your hawk eyes.

SierraStar123: U know I'm just looking out for u.

Sierra is like the only person who knows that I had self-harmed myself from sixth to seventh grade. No one else knows, not even my parents. The only reason Sierra knows was just that she has seen my scars and forced an explanation out of me.

MitchieMusic: I know, but I don't want to stay home. I am starting to feel trapped and no freedom.

SierraStar123: I know what you're getting at…I just wish I was there with u to help. :(

Sierra and I haven't separated; she still lives across the street from me. It's just that Sierra, being her intelligent self, was accepted in a magnet school that taught students in a high level, and trust me, I am not that smart.

MitchieMusic: G2G! First day of high school…mom's calling me.

SierraStar123: K, bye! Tell her I say hi, and good luck! First day of high school…you'll need it. :/

MitchieMusic: Thanks, Sierra!

I logged out.

I rushed down stairs to see my mom has made breakfast. Knowing that my mom cooks a lot when she's worried, and seeing that she cooked this much food, she's probably freaking out. "Mom, I'm the one who should be freaking out, not you."

She smiled. "I know, but I'm worried for you. I can't see you get hurt…I mean seeing you cry when you were just a little girl! Those kids sure are mean. I just wish to keep you home all the time, so you don't get hurt."

I sat down, starting to eat the omelet. "It is okay, Mom. I am not that little girl anymore." I'm not that weak little girl who resorted to cutting herself. I personally hated myself. I let the bullies get the best of me, and I feel ashamed. This is why I couldn't tell my parents that I had cut myself in sixth grade…I couldn't have them being ashamed of me, too.

"Too bad Sierra and you couldn't be together," Mom said. "You two together would've made high school easier." I smiled lightly, remembering the online chat we had not too long ago.

"Oh, I talked to Sierra a while ago, and she says 'Hi'," I said.

"Oh, Sierra is so thoughtful. No wonder you two are friends," Connie replied with a smile, putting an omelet on my plate.

"Mom, where's dad?" I asked, immediately nibbling on my breakfast egg.

"He went off to work early," Mom answered as I gulped down the last piece of the omelet, too full for any more. I heard my mom chuckle, "What am I going to do with all these food?" referring to the fifty omelets she has made from pure stress. Though, I wonder where she got all her ingredients to make that much.

"You can give them to the Senior Center, I'm sure they'll be happy to take the food," I suggested.

She nodded. "Alright, I'll do that. Okay, get in the car; we'll do it before school, we still have one hour."

With my sling bag on, I grabbed as much plates as I can, and carefully stacked them in the trunk of the catering van. Mom did the same with the rest of the plates. And soon we were off.


Shane POV

"Shane effing Gray! Get your ass down here!" my dad yelled from downstairs.

I groaned in my bed. Damn, I should have woken up earlier, shouldn't have drank last night. I ran to my door, and locked it immediately. Then, I ran to the bathroom, and at the same time, I was putting on my black skinny jeans, and let me just tell you, it's not an easy thing to do, especially when you have a hangover from last night's party. I quickly straightened my hair, and combed the final touches before finally adding hair spray. I quickly brushed my teeth, and by the time I got out of the bathroom, I saw my dad kick down the door.

"Bitch, you thought a locked door can stop me?" Dad spitted. "I know you were drinking last night; pathetic, wasting your life on that."

I rolled my eyes. "Hypocrite…so what have you been doing ever since mom died. Wasting your life, too?"

"Bitch, you don't know what you're saying," he sneered as he took a step closer to me. When he did that, I flinched because I knew what was going to happen next. "You need to show respect to your father."

My lip quivered, and barely got out, "Then, call me a son of a bitch."

He threw a punch at me, making me realize I wasn't wearing a shirt. I groaned as his fist contacted with my bare skin. He punched and punched, and I was screaming in agony; somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if my neighbors ever heard my torture. Soon enough, he was worn out by throwing punches. He spit at me, and then left the room laughing.

I winced as I got up from the floor. My room was a mess; my door was broken down, blood on the carpet floor, and papers thrown all around the room. Through the mirror, I checked my body. All over my chest and back there were bruise marks. On my right eyebrow there was a cut, and blood was slowly sliding down it.

I shook my head. My life was fucked up. Once upon a time, there was happy family. Suddenly, the mom passed away, and then, the dad became depressed. The dad drank and drank, mourning her death. Finally, the dad became crazy and abused his son. The son got hurt a lot, but never told anyone. The son feared his father, but he can never leave him because he was the only family left. And that's my story, the end.

I punched the wall, and quickly ran to my closet. I grabbed a green shirt, and put it on. To tell you the truth, it effin' hurt when I put it on. I got my back pack and wallet and left through my bedroom window. I jumped down two stories, and winced as I did a tumble forward. I got myself up and walked down the street, knowing very well who lived in my neighborhood.

His mansion was making fun of me…Nate Black. Nate Black was star quarter back at our high school. He got straight A's, was loved by everyone, and his family was stinking rich. He has such a perfect life, and I envy him. Perfect is something I'll never be.

I crossed the block, and immediately saw a catering van. It had "Connie's Catering" written on it and saw two ladies handing out food. Seeing the plates, my stomach growled. I headed their way.


Mitchie POV

Mom and I were already at the Senior Center handing out the plates. As the seniors went down the line, so did the food. The amount of plates was reducing by the person, but unfortunately, they were like ten extra plates left. I couldn't believe it, we gave food to all the seniors, workers and volunteers, everybody who was at the Senior Center, and still there were extras! Man, my mom was really worried today.

The seniors were led into the cafeteria, which we followed them in. To tell you the truth, the cafeteria smelled weird. Don't know how to explain it, but it smelled really, really weird; something mixed with barf and old people. Mom was talking to the supervisor of the Senior Center, and I felt left out. Remembering we left the trunk of the catering truck open, I decided to leave the building.

I walked out and saw a boy with dark shaggy hair, a green shirt, and black skinny jeans with his back towards me. I realized he was devouring the food that was left free. "Are you hungry?" I asked him aloud.

I guess he didn't know I was here, so he jumped. "Sorry, I didn't mean to steal…I was just hungry."

The boy looked around my age and he was really attractive; he looked like one of those pop stars with really tight jeans and a bunch of product on only their skater boy-styled hair. Though, at the same time, he looked vulnerable. I saw that his face was kind of bruised and saw a cut on his right eyebrow. "It's okay, get as much as you want," I told him. "We just needed to get rid of them, and it seems like you really need the food."

"Thanks," he said, continuing to devour the omelet.

"Hi, I'm Mitchie, and you are?" I greeted.

He didn't reply. He just kept eating and looked at me with cautious eyes.

"So, you don't get breakfast at home?" I tried again, hoping to get a conversation going.

"Talking about my life is probably not the best conversation starter," the boy spitted. He looked angry and afraid at the same time.

"Sorry," I said, kind of confused. "You know I just wanted to make conversation." I turned around, already heading my way out, kind of irked of his character.

"My name is Shane."

I faced him again. "Well nice meeting you, Shane. I really need to go; I do have a school to go to."

Seeing him grab another omelet, he asked, "Hopefully not Oakland High, that place is a dump. I go to that school; everybody acts fake there."

"Yup, that's the school," I replied. "But, why is everybody fake?"

"You see at Oakland, it's all about the reputation. You don't want to be at the bottom in high school, and if you are, you're gonna get stomped on hard. Everybody has to keep up an image, or else you're screwed," Shane explained, finishing yet again another omelet.

"What's your reputation?" I asked.

"Like I said before, talking about my life is probably not a good idea," he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, thank you for the insight, and if you're finish eating, you want to head to school?"

Shane smirked. "It depends…what kind of image you want to set up?"

I was confused. "What?"

Shane smirk deepened, if that was even possible. "If you're walking to Oakland with me, it will be a social suicide, but at the same time, the best thing that'll ever happen to you."

"I still don't get it."

"If you're with me, girls will despise you and become jealous," he explained.

"I still don't see why it'll be the best thing ever," I said.

"Well, of course, you're hanging with me," he said. "I mean, who wouldn't want to be with me?"

I rolled my eyes. "So what are you, the player of the school? You're the guy that gets girls swooning with a wink of an eye? With a flash of a smile? And once you get a girl, you tear her heart apart, and find another girl?"

"You're a smart girl, but didn't I tell you that it wasn't a good idea to know me at all," Shane said.

"You said something like that," I teased. "It's only a matter of time that I know the real you."

Shane's smirk suddenly turned into a scowl. "Now, that will not happen. I'll make sure of it." With that, he grabbed another omelet, and left without saying another word.

Sheesh, what a tough crowd, I thought. I pursed my lips, trying to remember why I got out of the building in the first place. Oh yeah, the trunk...so I pulled down the trunk and locked it. From there, I made my way to Oakland High School.


Shane POV

Damn, that girl was hot. I couldn't help but flirt with her earlier, she's so naïve. Though, I kind of freaked out when she said she would find out the "real" me. She was probably like those girls who you think is innocent at first, and once you turn away; she's keeping a bunch of dirty secrets. I don't know...

I swallowed the last of the omelet. That girl, Mitchie, I have to keep my eyes on her. She pretty much got my whole cover up story in a matter of minutes, what happens if she does actually find out the "real" me? I won't ever let that happen. The last thing I need is that everybody thinks of me as the kid with the messed up dad.


Author's Note: Thank you for reading this! If I could, I would hug everyone who read this story! But...if you review ;D

Hahaha, did you guys like my subtle way of asking you guys to review? Not very subtle right? XD But please do, please review!

And I can't stress this enough, thank you for even taking the time to read my story! - Quite the Imagination