Chapter One

56 0 1
                                    

Chapter One 

Devon

I pulled up my car in the parking lot, and cut the engine.  I could feel myself trembling as I reached for the keys – to say I was scared would be a huge understatement; I was terrified.  Over the last few years, I’d managed to come a long way, and salvage what I could from my poor excuse for a life.  This is the next step to a new life – getting a degree.  I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, allowing myself to calm down, before I opened my car door and stepped outside. 

It took me ten minutes to walk from the car park to the main building (bearing in mind I was dragging my suitcase behind me).  Once I arrived, I followed the crowd of students who looked like I did – lost.  It wasn’t long before a few teachers rounded us up, and directed us to a large hall.  Our names were called out, along with room numbers. 

“Lucinda Wright, Devon Mitchell, Room 112...” I made a mental note of my room number and began following the signs.  I had to climb one flight of stairs before I made it to the right corridor – which was difficult considering I had over-packed my suitcase.  When I got to the right room, I paused outside, and then mentally slapped myself.

“Damn it!” I hissed as I realised I hadn’t picked up a room key.  I tried the handle, hoping that my room mate had already arrived...it was locked.  I sighed deeply and turned to walk all the way back, when I saw a girl walking towards me.  She had long blonde hair with highlights of every shade of blonde and light brown.  As she walked towards me, I could see she was swinging a room key in her hand. 

“Forget something?” She chuckled as she flicked a strand of hair away from her porcelain face.  I smiled weakly and nodded.  “I’m Lucinda, but call me Lucy.” She outstretched a hand, which I shook.  Lucy quickly unlocked the door and pulled her bright pink suitcase in, before holding it open for me.  I nodded a thanks as I stepped in, dragging my suitcase behind me. 

“I’m Devon.” I smiled as I pulled the suitcase over to the middle of the room.  I winced at the weight of it as I hauled it onto the nearest bed. 

“Nu-uh, that’s my bed.” Lucy pointed a manicured finger towards the bed now occupied by my suitcase.  I wondered for a moment how she could possibly think it to be her bed, but I decided to move to the other bed rather than confront her about this.  I pulled the suitcase across the room and through another door where there was a separate bedroom.  I quickly sat on the small bed so she couldn’t claim this too.  Lying down and staring at the ceiling, I shut my eyes and smiled contently.  I was finally away from that place, and I didn’t ever have to return.  I didn’t get much alone time because Lucy burst into my room, making me sit bolt upright.  Had she never heard of knocking?  She moved straight to my suitcase and opened it up, peering inside.  I frowned at her rudeness and leant over the bed to shut my case.  But not before she had a nice long, nosey look inside. 

“Well, Devon honey I think we need to do a little bit of clothes shopping.” She nodded disapprovingly at my suitcase.  I rolled my eyes and sat back on my bed. 

“No thanks, I’ve got everything I need.” I told her confidently – I never had much interest in fancy expensive clothes, so I wasn’t jumping at the chance to go shopping.  Lucy rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“No, you really haven’t.  When you’re ready to accept that, give me a shout and I’ll get you a whole new wardrobe.” She flashed me a smile and marched back out to her room.  I stuck my tongue out at her as she had her back turned, and quickly shut my door again.  I opened my suitcase and spent ten minutes unpacking my clothes – which to be honest only took ten minutes because I barely had any clothes.  But I didn’t care.  I unzipped the tiny pocket in the top of the suitcase and pulled out my golden locket.  Moving back to lie down on my bed, I opened the locket and smiled at the picture of my parents.  It was taken thirteen years ago, on our holiday in Portugal.  My mum’s long golden hair was blowing in the wind, and my dad had the biggest smile on his face.  I was the one to take that picture, and it was the most perfect picture I had of my parents.  This was before they died.  I was five when they were taken from me, and I still remember that day – it haunts me at night. 

Saved By The Bad BoyWhere stories live. Discover now