"Not your good girl Mr.Badboy" (UNDERCONSTRUCTION)

Chapter 6

Beep.
beep
beep.

Bloody hell," I clutch my head as I throw the alarm clock on the floor. Hangovers are a bitch.

I lift myself up from the bed, tripping as I fall onto the floor while the covers tangle around me. "My mornings can never get any better," I mutter as I free my body and drag myself to the bathroom.

I don't know what happened to me. I suddenly feel dizzy and drop to the floor with a thud.

I feel weak, very weak.
I stay on the floor for a while, not feeling any better. My gaze drops to my wrists, and I see dry blood on them.

Instantly the memories from last night come rushing back.
Brian.
He was there in the club.
And how can I forget that he called me a whore, too?
Whatever. It's nothing that will effect me at all. I'm used to it.

I jump into the hot shower as my headache lightens a bit. I wrap my bath robe around me as I stumble into my closet.

I decide to wear a burgundy top with cuffed sleeves and my usual skinny jeans.

I apply some lipstick and eyeliner, completing my look. I walk downstairs and grab my cell and keys. Before leaving the house, I grab two Aspirins, quickly gulping them down.
Wow, I'm late.

I walk to the kitchen, telling Shail that I won't be having breakfast today as I'm late. She nods and hands me a granola bar. I take it and mutter a thanks before walking into the garage and unlocking my Audi v10. Jamming the keys into the ignition, speeding off from the drive away to school.

......

I park my car in the parking lot as people admire its beauty, staring in awe.
What can I say? I have amazing cars...
but not life.

I lock the car with the key remote and shove the keys into my pocket.

Last night, I got wasted, and now I'm baring the hangover.

Arghh.

Now I'm sitting in the history class as Mr. Campbell won't stop talking about some extremely boring lesson which I probably read a few days ago.

Yes, I do study.

But that doesn't mean I'm a nerd

"Ms. Conner, can you answer this question written on the board?" the teacher asks. "Ciara is fine," I retort as the teacher glares at me.

I read the question and smirked mentally.
I know the answer.

I answer it fluently without any mistakes as the teacher's eyes widen and I physically smirk this time.

I'm a smartass.

I rush out of history class as the bell rings for lunch and I make my way to the dance studio.

Picking up the guitar leaning against the wall, waiting to be used, I strum the tune of "I'm With You" by Avril Lavigne.
Automatically, the lyrics starts to flow out of my mouth.

Singing and dancing is an art, and I know it very well.

I'm standing on a bridge
I'm waiting in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now
There's nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there's no sound
Isn't anyone trying to find me?
Won't somebody come take me
home?
It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won't you take me by the hand?
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you