(NEW STORY) So American ❋ Nick Nelson

Chapter 2

Audrey Johnson P.O.V

I wake up sore. My whole body feels like it's on fire; and the pressure so intense it feels like a weight is on my chest, holding me down. But it's Monday and I have to go to school. So I grit my teeth and push through it. I have to force myself, but eventually throw my legs over the side of my bed and wake up for the morning. I start to stretch but stop abruptly. I wince; and am reminded of the beating I endured last night. I carry my body down the ladder from the addict floor, and trudge my way to the bathroom downstairs.

I hop in the cold shower, avoiding the mirror as much as I can. Not wanting to see the damage. I rinse all of my lashes gingerly, as they were still opened in big bloody welps. Bruises lightly coat my body, they're mostly just on my ribs. None seem broken, but feel really weak. I'll have to watch them extra carefully the next few days to avoid any further injury.

Going to school itself is a pain since I have to walk, but on days like this, it sucks a little bit worse. I can't help but drag my feet.

By the time I reach the school building, I can really feel the burn from my injuries. I'm totally out of breath. As soon as I make it to homeroom I put my head down and hope the air will find its way back into my lungs.

"Good morning" I hear in a soft accent. There's only one kid with an accent like that at school. And I met him on the first day of school. Even though we sit next to each other, we don't do a lot of talking.

I don't do a lot of talking with anyone these days.

I lift my head up slightly in acknowledgment to him. My own way of saying good morning.

It's been a week of no response from me yet he still greets me every morning.

Most people give up by now.

"I know this sounds random but I think we should be friends." He says sending me a smile. He rubs the back of his neck as if he feels awkward, his bicep flexing slightly at the movement.

Friends? Well that's a new one. Out of everything the kids have tried to tease me for at this school, pretending to be friends with me was never one of them.

I don't remember what it's like to even be friends with someone.
Honestly I think it sounds like a lot of work.

His face blushes, but he looks serious about the statement nonetheless. Are all British people this weird? I could laugh at this whole encounterment.

"You laughed?" Nick chuckles questionably. I did that out loud? Shit. I immediately cover my mouth with my hands. Looking wide-eyed at him.

"It's okay, don't be embarrassed." He says. Sending me a little half grin.

I wasn't necessarily embarrassed, I just, can't talk to anyone. I can't.
That goes for laughing too. Simply because I don't want to on that one.

I feel the familiar pressure of someone waiting for my response. It makes me want to curl up into a ball and let the ground swallow me whole. I never got used to the awkward silences that come after people try to talk to me.

I feel saved by the bell, it rings and instantly I pack my stuff to leave.

"W-wait, don't go! I'm sorry." I hear his voice getting quieter behind me, but it's too late as I keep walking farther down the hall.

In times like these, I feel so guilty. Nick seems like such a golden retriever and he maybe even a good friend to have. But I'm not exactly allowed to have friends.
Yeah, I know right.

I wish I could have a normal life. But I've accepted I don't. I can't wait to turn 18 and move far far away from here. Far enough that maybe I won't get beat every time I want to make a new friend.