Stuck together (teacherxstudent)

Chapter 2

"And this will be your room." Miss Porter swung open the door and stepped inside, waiting for me to follow. I slowly set foot inside the room and looked around.

It was small, but spacious. The room was devided into two spaces. One side, the empty one, I assumed was mine and the other side I assumed was already taken judging by the stuff that was placed on the bed. Apart from two beds, two desks and two closets, the room was empty. No decorations on the wall, nothing. The only thing that seemed to fill the room was the big window that looked over the school grounds.

"Do I have a roommate yet?" I asked her.

She nodded. "Allie will be back after the weekend. She's visiting family."

"Alright." I replied. I rolled my suitcase away from the door and placed it on my bed. I was very much aware of miss Porter her presence. She was still standing by the door and I could feel her eyes set on me. She seemed nice during the tour she gave me, but I somehow didn't really know how to act around her. Maybe it was the new environment, but she intimidated me a little.

"Do you have any questions for me?" She eventually asked me.

"Yes, actually." I replied. "When do I get my schedule for classes and stuff?"

"Oh right." She remembered. "I'll get that for you in a second. You just settle in, I'll be back later."

"Thank you." I smiled.

"You remember where my room is right? If you have any questions in the meantime just knock on my door."

"I will."

She nodded and walked off. I watched as she left the room before letting my body fall back on the bed. I closed my eyes. This place, this weird, fancy, old place was now my home for the next 10 months. Trapped in a place with people who really are troubled, and teacher who think they're superior. I hated the thought of it.

Back home wasn't always great. As a family we've been through a lot and it hasn't always been easy on us, but we eventually always made it through. I would even say it made us stronger, but my mom seemed to disagree.

In her opinion I was a lost cause. I was a troublemaker, a liar, an angry little girl who cared about no one but herself. That was the version of me she refused to let go off. Although I don't agree with her, she's not entirely wrong. I was troubled, and I was angry. That's what pain does to a person. It either makes you sad and depressed. Or angry. In my case it made me angry and fairly numb to other emotions.

Every time me and my mom fought she liked to bring up this one instant where she pushed my boundaries. It was the time she made me stop seeing my girlfriend because she was convinced she had a bad influence on me. It pissed me off so much, especially because my mom knew that my girlfriend was the only good thing in my life at that point. After every thing that had happened, she was there to comfort me when I was crying, to cheer me up when I was down, and to pick up the pieces when I fucked up again. She was everything to me and my mom knew it. Still she made sure I had no contact with her whatsoever, so I did the thing that seemed reasonable at that time. I locked myself in my room and refused to eat for days. I ignored my mom yelling at my door, begging me to please come out of my room. Begging me to talk to her, begging, begging, begging.

But I didn't give in. Not until she gave me back my phone. Allowing me to talk to my girlfriend again.

"It's not normal to behave like that. There is something wrong with you." She would shout at me for minutes. Crying, telling me how hard it was to deal with me, how stressed she was, how I was a horrible daughter. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was, but I didn't care. I tried but I couldn't find it in me to sympathize with my mom. I was just so angry all the time, and I couldn't shake that feeling.