What we used to be

Chapter 1

(This is the only chapter that isn't fully my writing and is 99% the original but I edited it a lot. Every chapter after this is 100% my writing)

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"Michael." Kara's soft voice calls from downstairs. Michael sighs, wide awake. He's an early riser, but likes to spend as much time hidden in his room as he could. He hears a soft knock at the door and Kara's head pops in with a warm smile.

"You up?" She asks. Michael forces a small smile and nods, throwing the covers off of himself.

"Get to it, hon. Don't want to be late." Kara says, leaving his room. Michael stands from the warmth of his bed, grabbing the clothes he laid out the night before and quietly making his way to the bathroom, not wanting to wake the other kids. He quickly showers, gets dressed, and makes his way downstairs. Michael puts his glasses on, runs his fingers through his wet, messy, curly hair, then pulls a beanie on his head, deciding fuck the school rules, he can't be bothered to try and tame the mess on his head.

"That was quick." Kara smiles, handing Michael his backpack. Michael nods a thank you and takes it from her.
"Michael." Kara says softly, looking at the boy who seemed to refuse to look her in the eye. Michael looks up at her.
"You alright, sweetheart?" Michael almost cringes at the pet name. That's what his mother used to call him. Michael just nods solemnly.
"You know you can talk to me, right?" Kara says. Michael nods. Kara smiles at him sadly.
"Talk to me, sweetie." Michael clears his throat.
"Thank you, Kara." is all he can muster up. Kara nods.
"You want a ride today?" She asks.
"No, thank you, Kara." Michael replies quickly, turning to leave.
"Alright, Michael. If you want me to pick you up, just call me." Michael nods and leaves the house, throwing his backpack over his shoulders and bracing himself for the day.

He silently walks past his old neighborhood, looking at his old home longingly. 'That wasn't home, that was hell' He thinks to himself. Michael forces himself not to look at the house opposite his old home. He constantly tries to forget the first 13 or so years of his life. At the time, it was fine. But he's 17 now and he wants to forget his mom, and his dad. Most of all, he has to forget Gavin. But as hard as he tries, he can't. Michael sighs, reminiscent of his best friend, his old life. He grew up with the Brit. They shared their childhood. Even though there were a few things Michael hid from Gavin. He had to hide those things. They promised to be there for each other forever. They promised to protect each other.

Ironically enough, Gavin abandoned Michael when he needed Gavin most. The pair haven't spoken a word to each other in almost four years. Michael shook the thoughts out of his head as he approaches his school. He glues his eyes to the pavement under him, just trying to make his way to his locker. Quickly, almost on cue, Michael is shoved back. The force makes Michael stumble backwards and almost drop his phone.
"Watch it." The kid spits and his friends snicker beside him. One of those friends is none other than Gavin Free. Michael forces himself not to look Gavin in the eye, knowing he won't find what he's looking for, and as he suspected, Gavin walks right past him, hardly acknowledging him at all. Michael sighs and pushes himself off the lockers. He knows he could knock all of those kids out in a single punch, I mean he's from new jersey, if you didn't fight you didn't survive, he just doesn't see the point. He finally makes it to his locker and gets what he needs when, much to his dismay, the morning bell rings.

Michael sighs and shuts his locker. He has maths. That wasn't all that bad. Michael like maths, the work was easy enough and Mr. Dooley was cool, but he shares that class with Gavin. Reluctantly, Michael makes his way to Mr. Dooley's class. As per usual he's the first student to enter the classroom.
"Good morning, Michael." Mr. Dooley greets with a smile. Michael turns the corners of his lips up, imitating a pathetic smile and sits in his seat quietly, waiting for the lesson to begin. The students slowly but surely begin to pile in. The chatter begins to get louder and louder. Once the late bell rings, Mr. Dooley calls for their attention. Gavin enters the room, his face showing that he's irritated. Michael looks up at him, concerned. Gavin feels the red head's eyes on him, and turns to look at him. Gavin sends him a subtle glare, causing Michael to turn his attention back to the front of the classroom. Gavin shakes his head and plops his backpack beside his chair, taking his seat right in front of Mr.Dooley's desk. He had been seated there because the soccer coach had told Gavin if he didn't raise his maths grade, he'd be bench for the rest of the season.
"Settle down, everyone!" Mr Dooley calls out, clapping his hands together.
"I want to discuss your exam results." He begins, picking up the stack of graded tests.
"And wish to not talk over you..." He adds and the class collectively groans. Everyone felt they had done poorly on the test. Mr Dooley nods at their response.
"Nggh indeed," He jokes, imitating their groans.
"I want to say you all bombed this test..." Mr. Dooley slams the tests on to the desk in front of him, Gavin's desk. Gavin sighs and rubs his tired eyes. He'd studied for that test all night, and he bombed it. Geoff's gonna be minged off, Gavin thinks to himself. Gavin looks at the stack in front of him and sees that the top of the stack was a paper with a big A+. He looks down at it, his eyes scanning the work.
"I would say you all bombed it, but of course," Mr. Dooley said, taking the perfect paper from Gavin's desk and waving it in front of his students, "Mr. Jones," Mr. Dooley continues, walking over to Michael's desk and placing the paper on it, "Aced it." The entire class begins to burn a hole in Michael with their eyes. Michael diverts his gaze and looks down at his exam whilst sinking into himself more. Sure as shit, as always, it has an A+ and a smiley face.