A/N: You guys are awesome, you know? I've gotten some suggestions, I've gotten lots of great reviews, and I'm glad you don't think this story is cliche. I honestly love this chapter. I find it completely different from ANY story I've ever read. So... enjoy. Oh and Duskingdawn I'd like to thank you for bringing that to my attention. I thought it was putting the linebreaks in for me! Cause, I had them on Microsoft Word, but I guess it doesn't do that. Anyway, I'll go through the chapters and put in those line breaks! Thanks, Love!

Chapter Thirteen

How many times have I clearly stated that I hate my life? It wasn't Ella this time; this time it was my mother and the way she seemed to love controlling my life. You know what I'm talking about don't you invisible audience in my head? Let's reflect back about when she sent me to therapy, sent me to a party, made me start taking the bus, and all of the other things you don't know about. When I went to my therapy sessions the following Wednesday after Saturday detention, my mind was slightly troubled. Nick had disappeared; the one time when I wanted to stop and ask him something and he just doesn't show up to school.

Why, Max, what could you possibly have to ask Nick?! Those are your thoughts, aren't they? No, I'm not physic even though I could totally pass for it; I just have this uncanny way to see someone and get a sense of what their thoughts are like. Anyway, I didn't need to ask him some personal and deep question; it was actually Omega that wanted me to ask him. Omega wanted me to ask Nick if he would be going to his own session that Friday. That's it; I just wanted to get it over with and then go get my shrink session over with so I could go home and collapse in bed.

"Max!" it was the too-cheery tone in Omega's voice that made me suspicious.

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Sup?" I mumbled, brushing past him on the way to his office. Omega swallowed harshly and followed me, pushing open the door for me. I gave him a weird look but went inside, taking a seat in my usual place.

He plopped happily down in his own seat, "So, how are you dear?!"

"You're giving me a headache. What's your problem?"

"Blunt, are you?" he muttered, some of his happiness dissipating at my lack of interest. He sighed, but kept the smile on his face, which wasn't helping my paranoia at all. Seriously, a grown man was looking at me with a smile that made me think about Insidious 2. "Anyway, how are your grades? Have they been looking up over the past week?"

I pretended to think, stroking my imaginary chin beard. "No," I deadpan.

"That's… unfortunate," he coughs awkwardly. "What about friends, have you made any of those?"

"Not really, but an idiot and a motor-mouth keep randomly talking to me. That's improvement," I say sarcastically. He looked at a loss for words, which made a side of my mouth curve into a smirk. The sudden image of Nick that flashed in my mind as I did that did not go unnoticed by myself.

"So, you haven't made friends with Nick? He's a lovely boy," he trailed off.

"I don't like "lovely" people."

"Well, I sort of thought he was your type… Dark, silent, scary…"

"Are you trying to play matchmaker now or something?"

"No, of course not!" he rubbed his temples. "Alright, let's talk about something else and quickly. Are you thinking about joining any clubs or teams at school?"

"Nope."

"Max, I think you should really at least think about joining a club or some kind of sports team."

"There's nothing that interests me," I say instantly, shifting my eyes away from him. Talking about something that would require me to stay at school ever longer than usual is torture. I should've seen it coming when he picked up the notebook and opened to a few pages that were labeled with my name.

He tapped the eraser of his pencil against the page as he read something over. Meanwhile, my eyes were watching as a little black spider made a trek across the shaggy carpet. It was moving slowly, obviously tired; I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration. Before I could do anything to maybe help it get off of the shaggy rug, a book dropped down on it. My gaze snapped up to see Omega murmuring something about spiders being such pests and stuff like that. I sat back in the couch, crossing my arms over my chest; he just crushed a spider like reality crushed my life when my dad died.

That was so deep I need a float to stay out of the depths.

"Your mother called me yesterday for our usual… chat," he informed me casually. He adjusted the thin black glasses that sat soundly on the bridge of his nose; I never noticed those before. "We got into talking about how you tend to run a lot."

Knowing that I was eventually going to have to tell him something; I let my wall down for a split second to let some of my thoughts slip through. "Yeah, I run a lot. I run to get rid of frustration, anger, sadness, and to let go of reality for a little while." Omega looked shocked that he had actually managed to get something out of me that I was serious about.

He cleared his throat, "Why do you like to let go of reality, Max?"

"Reality is where my dad is gone, what my little sister is sick, and where my mom is drowning in debt," I picked at a loose string in my jeans. "Running gives me this… feeling. Like nothing can touch me."

"And… you like this feeling?"

"Yes," I ran my fingers through my hair, "it's the same thing with my music. I can blast Black Veil Brides or Asking Alexandria to just forget once and a while." I abruptly shut my mouth, pulling a leg onto the couch to rest my chin on my knee.

Omega immediately noticed the walls that slid up, blocking anything else from his knowledge. "I see."

"What else did you and my mom talk about?"

"We think you joining a club or a team could help you get used to this school more…" He looked down as my eyes flashed upwards, fire raging in the light brown depths that had suddenly turned dark. When my eyes went dark, you could clearly tell that I was pissed because I knew where this was going. I knew my mother had once again made a decision about my life without informing me about it. Omega swallowed harshly, "So, your mother put your name down for the Track and Field team…"

I sprung up from the couch, "WHAT?!" I screeched.

"Max, calm down!" Omega got up as well.

"You don't control me!" I pointed at him, yanking my bag onto my shoulder. "No one owns me! Not my mother, not Ella, not my dad, not reality, not depression, and certainly not you!"

I stormed out of Omega's office, slamming the door behind me on my way. Omega rushed out after me, but I was already in the parking lot by the time he made it to the lobby. The first thing my eyes landed on was a familiar motorcycle, sitting across the street at the gas station. I crossed the empty road, glancing around to see if Nick was anywhere in sight. He wasn't anywhere in sight, but the idiot was idiotic enough to leave the keys in the bag attached to the back of the motorcycle. Swinging onto the motorcycle and twisting the key in the ignition was my first mistake.

The second mistake was me taking off without putting the kickstand up. This effected with me skidding a little; I cursed myself and stopped long enough to push it up with my heel. With rage burning behind my eyes, I once again revved the motorcycle and took off. Hopefully, doing all those dirt bike games in Frankie's Fun Park would be enough to at least get me somewhere else. My eyes stung at the wind whipping into my face as I weaved between cars, tears flying out because of the wind. I wasn't crying; I hadn't cried since my dad passed away.

Before I could register what was happening, I heard them. Loud sirens wailed behind the high-jacked motorcycle I was just happened to be driving. I moaned, but pulled over after a good twenty seconds of thinking over my options. With my face in my hands, I waited as I heard the officer pull up behind me and get out of his car. My thoughts were running wild, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for why I was driving a stolen motorcycle with no license, helmet, or jacket to cover my arms. It wasn't like I could tell him I was running from my shrink's office; that would make me look like a nutcase.

"License and registration?" the officer asked; his voice was abnormally high and squeaky.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing. Yeah, I know this is such an inappropriate time to be laughing, but his voice sounded like it never hit puberty while the rest of him did. "I. um, left them at home…" I trailed off awkwardly.

The cop looked up, eyes set in a hard expression. "Miss you were going 87 in a 50 zone and you don't even have your license to show me?"

"Well…" I mumbled, but gave up with a short sigh, "Yes."

"Step off the vehicle, Miss."

"Come on! I have to get home, and-"

"Now, Miss."

"I'm sure we can work something else out-"

"Off the bike before I drag you off."

Reluctantly, I swung my leg over the motorcycle to get off of it. The cop quickly cuffed my wrists and read me the usual stuff about my rights and all that stuff. My mother was going to have my head for this, and I'm pretty sure Nick is going to be pissed, too. He called on his radio for someone at the station to come and get the motorcycle. I was shoved into the backseat with my hands cramped up behind me and one leg drawn to my chest to rest my chin on my knee. Officer Braden- as his little tag proclaimed- spat insults at me as he drove to the station.

"What's this one in for?" the woman behind the front desk asked as I was shoved inside.

Officer Braden glanced at her, "She was going 87 in a 50 zone," he rolled his eyes. "Teenagers these days, huh?"

I snorted, "Like you never sped in your life."

"Never!" he gasped, looking totally shocked.

"Wow, goody-two-shoes much?"

"Miss, I don't think you know how much trouble you're in right now. Be smart and shut your mouth before I'm forced to use force," he commanded.

I rolled my eyes but kept my mouth shut as he dragged me towards a door. I won't lie and say I fought and tugged away, hit him like a boss, and flipped out of there; please, he dragged me like a ragdoll. He opened it with a key card and shoved me inside before him. The inside of my cheek started bleeding because of how hard I had to bite it to keep from exclaiming some inappropriate words. People in suits of the law were everywhere, guarding three cells that held six people that looked completely miserable and a bit dangerous. I tore my eyes away from a particularly large, thirty-something-year-old man that was looked me up and down.

He pushed me down into a rolling chair in front of a desk. "Stay here. I'm going to get someone to handle you," he glared at me and left me there with my handcuffs still locked on my wrists.

With a loud groan, my head dropped back against the uncomfortable metal chair. It wasn't long before a woman- thank everything holy- same over to me and dropped down behind the desk. She looked at me skeptically, "This is something much bigger than just speeding, Miss Martinez."

"How do you know my name?" I glare back at her.

"You're new in town, everyone knows your name," she replied snidely.

I huffed, "Fine, what's the big deal about speeding for the first time ever?"

"You were speeding without a license on a stolen motorcycle…this is a huge deal, Miss Martinez."

I swallowed harshly, "I didn't steal a motorcycle!"

"Really?" a voice asked from behind me; I twisted my neck at an awkward angle. Nick was standing slightly behind me with a single eyebrow higher than the other on his forehead.

I swore under my breath, "I didn't steal it. I was borrowing it… without permission."

"Mr. Ride," the woman sighed, looking over at Nick. She was exactly like Miss Dwyer with this dreamy look in her eyes as she looked at the boy that is probably more than twelve years younger than her. I scoffed, but she continued, "You have grounds to press charges."

His dark eyes locked onto me, quickly scanning my face. He saw my red cheeks, swollen eyes, crazy hair, and the desperate look in my eyes that was begging him to get me out of this. "No need," he said finally.

The woman gaped, but quickly scrambled to get over it, "Fine," she ground out. "However, there are still consequences for not having a license and for speeding. We're going to have to call your mother," she reached for her phone and I groaned again, throwing back my head. Fuck my life.