Chapter 3

I looked at Vic dumbfounded. What was he doing here? How long was he here? What did he even want with me? I steadily got up, dusting my pants off and not saying a word to him. There was no way in hell I was going to talk and let him mock my stutter. I already heard it a lot at home and from most of the students that didn't even know me.

Maybe he just needed me to raise his ego a little higher. I didn't know why he was here, or what he wanted. I eyed him carefully, he looked at me. He gave me this bored look, for a second I though I saw a flash of worry, but it was gone in a flash. He gave a curt nod and left the restroom without a word.

I let out a little groan. I had this feeling he would tell everyone about what he say. If he didn't then I would be fairly surprised. I couldn't help but think lowly of him. I bit my lip and walked over to the sink. After I washed my face off with water and dried it, I headed for my next class. Which was Gym.


I sighed in content as I sat on the bleachers, not having to do a single thing today. I had gotten a syllabus to go by and a locker. I bit my lip as I read through it, not paying attention to what the other kids were doing. Today they were playing soccer, which was my sport, I just wasn't allowed to play because of not being in uniform.

I didn't mind all that much, I was actually okay with it. It gave me time to watch how they play and their tactics. I could easily tell the weak players from the more stronger ones. It was easy to tell for some, harder for others. I also took note on how they played the ball, some were downright horrible at aiming for the goal, but could get it across the field to it.

I left gym class the second the coach was looking away and the others was dressing back into their school clothes. There would probably be a few that wouldn't bother changing clothes with just one more class left. I walked through the halls, heading for my locker and stuffing what I didn't need in there. I then began walking to my final class of the day, a music class.

I sighed solemnly as I walked down the hallways, I was still learning the fastest way to get to my classes. I had the map I was given practically memorized by now. I arrived to my final class, stopping midway in the classroom when I saw Vic Fuentes. I did a quick glance around him, finding that all of the seats, but one next to him, were full.

I let out a little groan. I had so much bad luck, it was unhealthy.

With a not-so-graceful motion, I seated myself in the only available seat next to the beast. I bit my lip, looking straight forward and ignoring him glancing over at me. I tapped my pencil against the wood anxiously. Class hadn't even started and I was ready to leave this one.

The only positive side to this was that it was music class, a class were one could express their desire for music. For a brief second I wondered why Vic was here. He didn't seem like a musical person. Maybe he was being forced to take this class?

I let my thoughts fall silent when the teacher walked through the door. I watched the old hag walk steadily to her desk. She snapped at the class to quiet down before sitting. She scanned over the class, stopping and looking my direction.

I stopped tapping my pencil the moment I notice her gaze on me. She didn't say anything though, she just looked at me knowingly and faced her computer, bringing it to life so she could end off the attendance to the office.

She most likely knew she had a new student coming into her class. That, or she didn't care too much. I let my gaze fall away from the teacher and glance carefully at Vic. He was studying me with his eyes that where rich like a forest's soil. I quickly looked away from him, luckily the teacher started to teach something about the history of music.

She had mentioned there would be a project soon. We would work on making a song in groups of two-three. The only problem with this was that I had no one to work with. I bit the corner of my lip, thinking about moving classes. It was an easy fix.

I let myself get taken away in my thoughts, not paying attention to what she taught as I self-consciously doodled on some paper. I wasn't that good, at least not in my eyes, but some people thought I was amazing and would go somewhere because of it. I highly doubted it though. My 'artwork' was nothing special.

For the rest of the class Mrs. Zimmer, I had learned her name thanks to a student, went on about whatever the others were learning about the other day. I kept my mouth shut and tried to forget about the boy who kept looking at me every so often.

The moment the bell rang I was out of my seat and into the hallway. I didn't wait for Vic to catch up, he was someone who wouldn't get along with me and my stuttering self. I just knew it. He was probably too caught up in his popularity to care about me. I have seen the way people glance at him.

People on my last class kept giving me this weird look because of Vic looking at me with his dumb curious eyes. If it were under any other circumstances I would have waited for him and talked with him. I wouldn't have cared how beautiful or cute he looked.

I gripped my belongings close to my chest, making my way to my locker to father what I needed for home. I stuffed my notebook and binder into my bag. I made a mental note to stop by the library and check it out tomorrow.

After checking to make sure I had my locker combination in my bag, I closed the locker door. I then spun around on my heel and went straight for the closest exit students could use. I saw Vic talking with some guy, stopping for a second when he noticed me, then going back to talking. I felt his gaze on me as I left.

What was his problem? Why did he keep staring at me like that?

I started to think he thought of me as a freak for having a panic attack. To him he probably thought I had it because of him, but it wasn't because of him. It was because of how Matty had touched me. Even the slightest human touch could trigger these thoughts inside of me and I hated it.

I just prayed that my dad was at least in a good mood today. I secretly wished he would ignore my existence for a while. I wasn't surprised to find him laying on the couch, knocked out by the alcohol. The typical weekday afternoon for him.

He'd probably be awake and going to get more to drink later tonight. Hopefully he wouldn't burst into my room like most nights. While my dad was knocked out from the poison he drank, I did my homework. It was a pain in the ass, but I did it anyway. I struggled with a few of the math questions, but I figured them out. I think I got them wrong, but I didn't care. At least I gave an effort to try.

Once I had finished my homework I placed it back in my bag and put my backpack on the chair of my desk next to my bed. I turned off the main light and flipped on the lamp. before grabbing some clothes and heading to the shower.

The rest of the night was a blurb of pills and blades.