Finn's Pov:

Who the fuck does he think he is? He waits till I'm happy before springing the idea of moving miles away on me, thinks I'll be happy about it. If I had it my way I would stay in Rochdale, but with what money? He thinks my friends don't mean anything; me and Trudi are well and truly over. Me in flipping Scotland, her in Manchester heading towards uni, yeah that'll work.

'Finn are you listening to me?'

I turn around, glaring at my so called dad.

'Do you ever shut up?' I yawn, rolling my eyes.

'I've had enough of you doing nothing with your life' He grunts, disappearing up the stairs.

'Quick, you don't want to be late to your amazing new business do you?' I shout after him, grabbing a box of cheerio's resting on the side digging my hand in before stuffing them in my mouth.

'Get dressed' I choke on my generous helping of cereal as I sit up. I look down at the clothes he holds in his hand.

'You're going back to Waterloo Road' He shouts, tearing the cereal box out of my hand and chucking it across the living room cheerio's scattering the expensive new rug.

'You're joking right?' I explode, I've had enough of Waterloo Road to last me a life time.

I laugh a little longer, before I realise I'm the only one laughing. He's serious.

'Get dressed. Or you're out' He orders chucking the clothes in my direction.

.

I pull my bag over my body as I glare up at building analysing the students crowding around the doors. I'm about to turn and head home before I spot someone near the front entrance. A girl, long blonde curly hair, amazing pair of legs. I run my fingers through my hair, before stepping forward.

'Who are you?' The girl questions as I approach her.

'Was just gunna ask you the same thing' I smile, slinging my hands in my pockets.

'So are you new then?' She asks, wrapping a violet bow around her hair, before pulling out some red lip gloss.

'Well kind of, I...' I begin speaking before I'm abruptly cut off.

'Oi, get away from my sister you hear me?' Another boy around my age warns, getting closer to my face by the second. I feel his saliva hitting my face as he speaks. 'None messes with my family'

'Oh yeah, what are you gunna do about it?' I laugh, shoving his shoulder back, all mouth no action. The presence of other students building around us.

I laugh more, what a dick. 'Barry' I hear the girl scream, as I feel his sweaty hand hit my cheek bone. I groan, daylight turning into blackness. I clasp my palm over my mouth as I try not to cry out in pain. As I feel his foot make contact with my stomach. I grit my teeth, my face pinned against the cold concrete.

'Get off now!' I hear faintly as I'm pulled up off the concrete, by a figure I am yet able to make out.

'Finn Sharkey...' I bend over; the pain excruciating as the boy named Barry is dragged away screaming abuse. 'He caught me off guard' I yell, as a few 12 year old girls laugh at my expense.

'Tom Clarkson' I grunt, as I limp off, warm blood pouring from my busted lip. Boy does he look old.

'I heard Josh is doing well'

'Yeah he's great, now get in there'

.

'Doesn't take you long does it?' He questions, as he sits beside me on a plastic chair in the new fancy school office.

'Where's Janeece?' I wonder, as a new woman with brown hair taps down onto the computer keyboard.

'That's not important now' Tom shakes his head, as he passes me a new ice pack for my quickly swelling face. I swiftly get to my feet as the door creaks open. I lurch my body forward towards Barry as Tom holds my arms back.

'This isn't over' Barry spits, as Michael throws him out of the room smashing the door closed behind him.

'You've not even been here for ten minutes!' Michael yells, pacing around his desk.

'Look it wasn't my fault, can you not see my face. I didn't touch him' I argue.

'He wouldn't have punched you for no reason' Michael shakes his head, perching himself on the edge of the desk, the veins in his forehead pulsing.

'I'm keeping a very close eye on you' Michael grunts, thrusting my bag into my stomach.

'Ouch' I grunt. 'I'm innocent!' I laugh, limping out of the office door for dramatic effect.

I pull a crumpled piece of paper from my trouser pocket. I scan down the sheet. 'English, Mr Budgen' Just as I thought my day couldn't get any worse, I was wrong.