Mackenzie & The Boys | PsycheAwards2017

Two.

The next morning I rose with the sun. The beer I had downed the previous night had passed through my system, thankfully.

I know the typical nerd stereotype. Nerds don't drink. They're supposed to be teensy and innocent. Wrong. I am about as innocent as a mass murderer. Not literal, of course.

Dragging myself from my comfortable bed I entered the bathroom. I relieved myself before getting busy for the first day of school. I threw my hair up into a ponytail, adding in my signature swipe of mascara to my rather short eyelashes.

I gave myself a once over and a nod of approval, allowing me to scurry to my closet. I chose a pair of black leggings and a flannel, hiding my frame from the threatening world of high school.

Once I arrived downstairs I let out a frustrated sigh, seeing a couple overdue bills still sitting on my counter. My mother was away in rehab— again and I have never met my father. He left when I was only a child, according to my mom, he was an amazing, honest man who wasn't ready for a family.

I find that hard to believe.

So here I was, alone and fending for myself. For a couple months, anyway. I grabbed an apple off of the counter and took a bite, slipping on my white converse while I was at it.

Those who know the trauma that's happened to me always feel bad. They offer me homes and money, always with a glint of remorse in their eye. It sickens me. I can fend for myself, thank you.

That's why I don't tell people I live alone, fatherless and almost motherless. They'll think of me differently.

I finished my apple and wiped off my mouth with my sleeve as I rushed out of the door and back into my car. I buckled myself in and let myself breathe for a second. Then I felt a buzzing from my shirt pocket. Nobody ever texts me.

Trevor:
Remember 2 meet us after school at football field.

I rolled my eyes at his text and replied back in a snarky tone.

Mackenzie:
I wouldn't hold your breath.

I tossed my phone to the side and onto the passenger seat as I drove myself out of the driveway and onwards to Fairlynch High School.

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Once the bell rang, a breath I didn't know I was holding was exhaled in a loud manner, making my cheeks red. The first day of school was over. I began collecting my books as fast as I could before I felt four pairs of hands on me. Two on each arm.

I growled until I heard two familiar voices. The drunk goons from last night's drunken fiasco. Lovely.

"Sorry, Mackenzie," one of them said. A shrug of his shoulders showed that he didn't really care much.

They hoisted me up as I kicked my legs, a crowd began to gather. Great. Come see the show! Just what I needed to really stay in the shadows. Way to go, Trevor Mcbitch.

"Put me down." I shrieked, receiving a few snickers in return.

The two cronies brought me all the way down to the field and finally set me down. I screamed in frustration and attempted to push one of the two backwards. I think I almost broke my wrists.