A/N: I am extremely sorry for not updating. I just hate writer's block, because I'm not at the point where I actually have ideas of what to write. Which completely sucks. Anyways, thanks for the reviews: I really appreciate them. But that's mainly because I have low self esteem...which is in the negatives...so yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. (mutters dammit) and the chapter title isnt mine. It is blisters and coffee by the classic crime, a seattle band.

Chapter 2 Blisters And Coffee

When I woke up the next day to the cinematic dark of rain, a plan was freshly formulated in my mind. I would wear a black sweatshirt, with a hood up and my iPod on all day to avoid making any contact with anyone. If I shut them out, would not they do the same?

I didn't even bother to fix my hair as I headed downstairs for breakfast. It remained in the same messy bun as always, little flyaway pieces sticking out from beneath my hood. My eyes blinked as I reached the sudden flooding of light from the kitchen. With it came the disturbing stench of something burnt. I grimaced as I stepped on the threshold and caught sight of what was on the counter.

A bagel, freshly toasted, beside yellow, gelatinous looking eggs lay on a plate. A post-it resided next to the plate, obviously from Charlie. The somewhat sloppy scrawl couldn't belong to anyone else.

I had to leave early, but your

breakfast is on the counter

Have fun on your first day!

Love, Dad

I picked up a slice of the bagel, holding it between my teeth as I headed over to the opposite counter. Dumping the correct amounts of Starbucks Italian Roast and water into the coffee maker, I switched it on and sat down again. When I opened the trashcan to throw the remains of my meal away, I found the source of the smell.

There were at least three bagels, burnt to a thick, black char, in the trashcan. Charlie must have worked over time to make a good breakfast. Knowing him, it probably took an hour.

I grabbed my backpack and keys off the hook by the door, and left the house with my truck by 7:00. The clouds stirred above me ominously, and I took it as an omen when I reached the parking lot. I stepped outside, pausing briefly to taste the mix of snow and rain on my skin.

If I remembered correctly, it wasn't supposed to be a good omen at all.

The cold bit my hands like the sharp prick of the edge of a needle. But, while it hurt, it was also very soothing in a way. It was almost comforting, like a luxury for my heart.

Like blisters and coffee.

Sighing, I folded my arms and entered the school, unaware of what was to come.