The Fire In Me (Ryder) (COMPLETED) 1 ✔️

Chapter Two Attitude

Monster- Beth Crowley

    I stare at the person in the mirror. Her face was bruised and swollen with cuts here and there, but it wasn't bad. I could easily cover it with makeup. Today was my first day at a new God-forsaken high school. Maybe I should explain a little bit. I moved here only a couple months ago, but it was still summer break. I met Roscoe when he saw me watching a fight at the park.

     We bonded quite well when we ran for our lives from the police. I smile, remembering that day. "Ryder!" My smile quickly fades. Uh oh. I know that yell. My dad is impatient. I quickly cover my face with enough makeup to cover everything that makes me look somewhat normal and spray myself with my goddess-smelling fruity perfume. It. Smelt. Amazing. I run downstairs, my dark brown hair flowing with every movement.

     "Yes?" I ask innocently as I walk into the kitchen. He lowers the newspaper he was reading and studies me.

     "Why are you wearing so much makeup?" He asks, confused. He knows me well. I don't usually wear makeup.

     "Felt like starting my first day good," I reply, trying not to sound too fast in my response. "You called me down here?" I raise an eyebrow.

     "Yeah," He says, shaking his head and fixing his tie. "I have to go on a job mission in Minnesota. I have to leave-" he looks at his watch. "Well, now, but I'll be gone for a week." He gives me a look. "Don't do anything stupid."

     "I love you too." I say, rolling my eyes, looking away as he hugs and kisses me on the forehead.

     "I do love you. Be safe. Don't die." He says as we walk out the door together. He goes to his car, and I wave as he drives off before getting on my bike. I hold my helmet in my hands, about to put it on when I feel someone watching me, which causes me to stop. Should I give them a show or make my way to school? I think as a smirk forms on my face. Maybe just a little something.

     I hold my helmet with one hand and lean back with the other, closing my eyes and running my hand through my hair and shaking it. I flip my hair and shove my helmet on, backing out of my driveway. See, nothing even bad. I hope my makeup doesn't come off when my helmet does. Driving to Calhoun Golden High, I park my bike next to a few others, glad I'm not the only one with a love for motorcycles. I see a group of people, four guys all wearing leather jackets, with three girls hanging off their strong arms.

     I roll my eyes. I assume the guys are the owners of the bikes next to mine. They look like trouble, but I know I'm probably more trouble than all of them combined. I look away as a motorcycle pulls up and stops on the other side of me as I take my helmet off and stand. "You're in my spot." A male voice growls next to me. I look, and my eyes meet hazel ones. Great. Him. I roll my eyes.

     He has thick brown hair, and you already know his eye color. Hazel. From what I could see, his skin was tan, and he wore a gray shirt with a leather jacket and dark jeans. He's one of the others, I assume. "I don't see your name on it." I say as he gets off his bike, setting his helmet down and not taking his eyes off me. His glare would intimidate others, but to me, it was nothing.

    "Move your bike." He says. He really wants this parking spot. I cross my arms.

     "No." I say firmly, and for some reason, he looks taken aback that I didn't obey him.

     "What did you say?" He asks, stepping closer.

     "Did I stutter?" I reply, tilting my head just a little to give my 'I don't give a fuck' attitude more edge. That's when I notice people slowly starting to surround us.