The Rumour Mill - Completed

1. First Impressions

Libby's POV

"Libby, come on!" My mum yelled from downstairs, yeah well you can shout all you want, I'm not going I thought as I threw myself onto my bed, before reaching over putting my headphones on and turning my stereo up.

Why couldn't she understand? I didn't want to be in this stupid town and I certainly didn't want to spend my last night of freedom before I had to register at my new school with a bunch of strangers. Just because she's decided it'd be good for me to meet the neighbours, I DON'T CARE! So what if they've got kids my age, unless they are some kind of freaks surely they'll already have friends of their own, I mean why would they want to suddenly buddy up with me? I know if I was in their shoes I'd wanna keep a wide berth from the 'new kid'. Oh God I feel sick, the new kid, new kid! I didn't want to be the fucking new kid; I want to be popular, I was one of the faces in my old school, all I wanna do is hang out with my 'real' friends, is that really too much to ask for? Well apparently yes it is!

"Jesus, Libby" My mum screamed to me at the same time the blaring music from my ears pounded round my room. I opened my eyes to see my mum diving for the volume dial whilst still holding the connection for my headphones.

"What's your problem?" I screamed at her, I cringed internally as I heard the tone of my voice. My mum must have the patience of a saint, I thought, cause believe me if someone would have spoken to me like that I'd of kicked the shit out of them.

"We're leaving!" She yelled, oh yeah she was pissed, that was a tone that said 'don't even think about messing with me'. I sighed and mumbled my disharmony, but I knew it was futile...I was going.

I looked at myself in the mirror; the reflection staring back at me wore the uniform of every other teenage girl I knew, skinny jeans, converse and some nondescript top, way to go to be an individual Lib, I thought as I ran the comb through my mahogany pixie cut before applying a little light make up. I may not want to be friends with these people but I also didn't want to gain a reputation as a troll before I even got to the stupid school. Quickly appraising my look and deciding I'd pass I stomped down the stairs to my waiting mother.

"Oh you look nice love" She patronised, yeah now you want to be all pally, pally, cause you know you've got your own way I scowled as I trudged passed her, she didn't even try to hide the victorious grin on her face.

We were spending the evening with the Dawson's and their twins, Connah and Reah, they were in my year but I think a couple of months older than me. When our removals van turned up yesterday morning Mrs Dawson was the first to pop over and welcome us to the neighbourhood. After she had discovered my mum was a successful, even though it killed me to say it, extremely pretty divorcee, she was suddenly my mum's new BFF. What's that old saying? 'Keep your friends close but your enemies' closer', well to be fair to her I'd be worried my husband might stray too, if I looked like her and my new neighbour looked like my mum. Not that my mum would even look twice at Mr Dawson, no, middle aged, balding and with a paunch where his six pack should be really wasn't my mum's type, so I'd say he was safe.

"Oh Jenny it's so great you could make it, and hello again Olivia." Her over enthusiastic joy at seeing us again really did nothing for my mood.

"It's Libby" I corrected rather curtly, my mum shot me a quick warning glare, I stretched my eyes wide so she would know I was shouting what? Back at her. I wasn't trying to be cocky but in my experience if you don't nip this wrong name thing in the bud I'll end up always being called by the name only my paternal grandmother knows me by. No, my name is Libby, I mean I wouldn't dream of calling her Mrs Dowdy-son, even though if she calls me Olivia again I just might.

"Well 'Libby'" She emphasized my name, touché to you I thought, "The kids are in the den, why don't you run along and play, there are plenty of drinks and snacks as well as loads of games and things to keep you occupied." I looked at my mum, surely this woman is insane, I'm almost 17 years of age I don't even remember the last time someone told me to 'run along and play'. My mum was of no help at all, she could barely keep the smirk off her face as she nodded in the direction of the 'junior play pen'.