Chapter 1 - Jay

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Loud banging on my door, a heavy man's voice roars on the other side of the door yelling that I have to get up and turn off my alarm, but I'm not listening, roll over and push my head further into the mattress.

  "Jay if I have to come in, you're grounded for a week and you can forget about baseball training." I shoot up. Baseball, my only salvation.

  "I'm already getting up."

  "Good, I don't want you to be late for your new school, again." I roll my eyes, I can't help it that everyone in my previous 2 schools already knew who I was. Hillside high is the only school that I have a little bit of faith in that they don't know who I am, but I don't think I'm lucky, there are only 830 people living here, news is going fast.

  "Dad," I mumble, rolling out of bed.

  'Yes?' He tries to open my door, but the lock blocks him to do so. "Take that damn lock off."

  With a sigh I do what he says. He opens the door so hard that I immediately take a few steps back, trying to see if he's angry. Is he in a good mood? I hold my arm protectively in front of my face, which he immediately pulls down.

  "Raven, Jayden Miller, are you out of your mind!" He blows out angrily and looks around my room. "And tidy up your room, it's like a pigsty."

  I can't breathe until he's gone, forgot my whole baseball question. I close my eyes for a moment and slowly start moving. I quickly change into black shorts that stop just above my knees and an black oversized shirt with some figures and things on it.

  When my sleep shirt falls to the floor and I put on a sports bra, I stare at my upper body in the mirror, bruises around my ribs and stomach, all because my dad doesn't know what to do without the alcohol. I release a sigh, in a few years I'll be out of here on a scholarship.

  Mentally, I make another note not to screw up this school, this is my last shot at a baseball scholarship and for that I need to get a spot on a boys' team. Yes I can forget that.

  "Jayden, hurry up, you've got half an hour." I curse inwardly at my father. He never cares and now first day at Hillside and he cares and don't say it's because grandpa went to this school.

  I throw my backpack over my shoulders, put the handle of my baseball bag over my right shoulder, grab some wax for my hair and shape my pixie cut while walking. I cut my hair this summer. My father disagreed, which ended in another bruise. But when I saw myself in the mirror, a weight fell off my shoulders, one step closer to myself, even though I know I'm never going to be that person completely here in Hillside.

  "No jacket?" My father asks while he doesn't lift his eyes from the newspaper.

  I ignore him until I grab my breakfast from the table. "No, it won't be that cold." Around 80 degrees to be exact. I take a bite of my bagel. "And I don't have to cycle far."

  Dad mumbles an answer. "Okay then."

  I glance at the clock and put my airpods in my ears, I have to cycle really hard if I still want to be at school on time. "I'm going."

  "Mm-hm," Dad mumbles again. "I'll be late tonight, don't wait for dinner." I don't listen anymore and have already walked to the front door. "And behave in—" The front door locks, interrupts his last sentence, and I don't care. Finally I can get away for a while.

  I nod to a Fletcher song and jump on my bike. Fletcher always manages to calm me down.

  The cold wind reminds me that I should have put on a jacket after all, but to give my dad that satisfaction, I don't want that. Where is the sun when you need it?

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