School runs are a pain, dragging me out of bed too early and snarling traffic. But what really gets under my skin is the hunt for two particular brats amidst the swarm of pre-teens and teenagers spilling out of the school building.

I'm propped against my car, hands sunk deep into my jean pockets. My head is facing towards the sky, feeling the sun hit my skin. My ears are filled with the indistinct chatter among the preteen, teenagers and adults moving from point A to point B. Those two better hurry the hell up if I have to endure any more of this noise and chaos I grumble silently, already feeling impatient.

"Hey there."

I crack one of my eyes open and spot a random girl standing before me.

"You're Isabel's brother, right?" she asks.

"Who's asking," I ask tersely. Damn teenagers and their curiosity.

"I'm Chloe. Her classmate," she sticks out her hand towards me.

I stare stoically at it and then at her. She awkwardly clears her throat and quickly retracts her hand.

"So, what brings you here?" I ask, my expression unchanged.

"You seem bored and lonely waiting for Isabel. So, I thought I would bless you with my presence and save you from dying from boredom," she tell me with a quirky voice.

I arch an eyebrow. I'm not sure what her deal is and what she's trying to accomplish or get out of talking to me. I mean who would willingly approach a stranger who's so closed off? Yet, here she is, offering her company like it's some kind of remedy.

I narrow my eyes at her. "I don't need your pity and I'll be fine without your company."

Her smile falters for a moment but she quickly regains her composure. She looks very determined to make an impression on me, I'll give her that.

"I've seen you in some of her posts on Instagram, just so you know. I wanted to see more of you on your account but there isn't much to see. You seem to have a cool and mature type of vibe. Kinda like John Wick." She says.

"You don't know me."

"But I'd like to."

I stare at the young girl. She has to be about Isabel's age if not older and with how persistent she's being, it's pretty clear she has an interest and a tiny crush on me. She's not the first teenage girl who's bold enough to approach me with the hopes of pursuing more than just casual talk and she most certainly won't be the last.

"Look, whatever you're trying to pull, I'm not interested. I have no business talking let alone befriending someone half my age," I tell her as kindly as I can. It's not her fault that she approached me, but it's also not my responsibility nor am I obligated to humour her.

"Come on. Age is just a number a lot of adults obsess over these days."

"And jail is a room that I don't want to be in. I don't do well in jail cells. Too unsanitary for my liking."

She rolls her eyes. I can tell that she hates not being taken seriously.

"I'm already eighteen so technically I'm an adult."

Oh, sweetie. You have no idea what you're talking about. I always find it amusing just as I find it annoying these "newly legal adults" like throwing the "I'm an adult" card around to get their way but when they are faced with actual adult situations, they suddenly don't want to be adults anymore. I mean I get that adulting is a scam, but my brothers and sisters in Christ pick a struggle.

"I hardly label high school leavers adults. Doubt you're paying your bills." I tell her.

"I do too!" she retorts immaturely.

"Okay? Do you live on your own and pay your own bills?"

She opens her mouth but then shuts it with a sigh.

"Focus on people your age instead of looking for life experience from someone who's old enough to be your dad," I tell her. "I'm not about to catch a statutory charge and go to prison over some hormonal teenage girl chasing a thrill. It's pathetic."

Her cheeks are burning with embarrassment and her eyes are welling up with tears. I stare back at her, unaffected by her reaction.

"You don't have to be a jerk about it," she mutters before turning to leave.

Sweetheart, I am a thirty-five-year-old college student working as a stripper just to get money to help put food on the table and keep a roof over my family's head. Your hurt feelings and inability to take rejection are the least of my worries. I snort in my mind, refraining from vocalising the thought.

Truth hurts but we move. Teenagers are really a pain in the ass to deal with. Always a mess of emotions and riddled with uncertainty. My life is complicated enough. I already have Isabel and Erika to deal with. I don't need more problems.

Speaking of Isabel and Erika, I spot them approaching my direction. Fucking finally.

"What took you so long?" I ask.

"I had to wait until my teacher dismissed the class instead of the bell," she rolls her eyes. "Also, who was that talking to you just now? Why does it look like she's about to cry? Did you say something to her?"

I shrug lackadaisically and get into my car. Isabel and Erika both exchange looks before following suit.