Nope, she ain't with it though
All because she got her own dough
Boss bossed if you don't know
She could never ever be a broke hoe
-You Don't Own Me
-Grace
-G-Eazy
•••••
I froze as soon as my eyes met his.
A storm always brewing behind his incredibly grey eyes, a storm that seemed to want to wreak havoc once they met my uninteresting muddy brown ones.
His lips curled back into a sneer and at that very moment, I came to a realization that I was referring to him as him because this person who seemed to have an undying hatred towards me and who clearly declared us enemies, was nameless to me.
Well if that's not messed up I don't know what is.
The only person in this school who seemed to hate me, was someone who I barely knew and who barely knew me.
Way to go Riley. Only you can make an enemy on your first day at a brand new school whose name you don't even know.
"Miss, is there a reason you're standing in front of my class instead of taking your seat?" the question came from a lady perched on her table.
She was surprisingly young for an English teacher, and certainly didn't fit the description of one. When I saw the surname Wilkins, I pictured an old lady with a warm smile and grey hair.
But it turns out, Miss Wilkins was a woman in her early twenties with bright pink hair hanging loosely in ringlets down her back. She had a nose piercing and wore a black sleeveless top, a denim skirt that stopped just below her knees and a pair of black converse.
Definitely doesn't look like any of my previous English teachers.
Miss Wilkins raised her eyebrows waiting for my answer.
"No, sorry ma'am," I mumbled.
I internally groaned as I made my way to the back of the class and took the seat next to my enemy.
He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
I rolled my eyes at his childish behavior and turned away from him to face the teacher.
Miss Wilkins was doing role call and most of the names I recognized from my previous classes.
"Riley Carter?"
I raised my hand and heard a 'hm' leave Miss Wilkin's mouth.
As Miss Wilkins read through the list of names I peeked out of the corner of my eye to see which one was the stranger sitting next to me.
He looked more of a Chase with the brown hair going for him, or a Tyler.
"Ryder Wilson?"
YOU ARE READING
Unsteady
Teen FictionBook 1 in the Shards of Glass Series Unsteady ʌnˈstɛdi adjective Liable to fall or shake I felt completely broken. Like a shard of glass from a shattered mirror, or maybe I was the empty frame. ••••• He was her downfall and she, his weakness. They...
