We sprinted off down the path, dodging trees and unsuspecting dog walkers until we were both gasping for breath.

Resting for a moment, I felt my phone vibrate through my pocket. With difficulty, I eased it out and pressed the green button.

"Hello?"

"Where the hell are you?" my mom demanded angrily down the phone.

"Out..."

"Where? School ended an hour ago"

"Have you only just realised I haven't been coming home from school straight away?"

"Get your ass home now" she said menacingly, and terminated the call.

I ran my hand through my hair, making it stick up.

"I'd better go" I said to Andy apologetically.

"You want me to come with you?"

"It's probably best if you didn't..."

"I hate to think of her shouting at you"

I shrugged. "Happens all the time, you'll get used to it"

He took my hands and looked into my eyes. The sun was baring down on us, illuminating blue flecks in his irises.

"I will never hurt you" he promised.

I grinned broadly, and together we walked back to my house, where he left me by the driveway after shyly kissing me.


Reluctantly, I trudged toward the front door. I got inside and made my way into the kitchen.

My mom sat up straight at the table, drumming her fingers on the wood.

"You're late" she slurred.

I knew that tone of voice and the distant look on her face.

"You're drunk" I accused.

"So?"

"You've got two daughters to look after. You shouldn't need reminding"

"I've only got one daughter; the other means nothing to me" she spat.

That was below the belt. Again, I was playing the adult. I left the kitchen swiftly as she launched into an alcohol fuelled rant about how I embarrassed her,and how I didn't grow up according to plan (I'm sure she stole that from Simple Plan...), and how I was nothing to her.

Trying not to let her words get to me, I wondered why Lauren was so much better than me. I went into her room and looked at the bright pink walls and white wardrobes, her desk piled with make-up, magazines littering the floor.

Advancing into my room, I compared it to my sister's. The walls were dark blue, but covered with posters of various bands. The rest of the furniture was black with the exception of purple curtains. There wasn't anything on my desk except for my art book and a can of hairspray. I sighed; this room could belong to a boy.

But still, how could my interests make me any more or less likeable?

I lay on my bed and drifted into daydreams.