I hate people.

I know you’ve read that sentence and already have a preconceived notion about me. I’m a teenage girl who listens to rock music. I have different color hair, I dress in all black and I think no one understands me. I smoke cigarettes, drink coffee and live in black eyeliner. Not all of this is true. Plenty of people understand me enough to see that I don’t want to speak to them.

People say they hate people all the time, yet they all go out of their way to make friends, boyfriends, relationships in general. Then there’s me. I avoid talking to anyone and everyone. But when someone does try to talk to me…they often regret it. Let’s just say that I have a lot of rage for a small person.

Today was one of those days for my anger to shine through. It was my first day at a new school. I would be fine if I did online classes, but no. My uncle insists on keeping me in a public school where I would have to deal with people, aka, bullshit. Despite me being eighteen, I cared about my education. As soon as I graduated, I planned on taking online classes through a college to get a degree and then find a job where I could work from home.

That sounded like a good plan to me.

I debated skipping as I stretched my body. It wouldn’t be too difficult, and no one would notice. Well, that’s a lie. Someone would notice, and that someone would be the principal since my uncle insisted that she keep an eye on me while I went. That meant that if I missed my first day, I would get an earful and probably a visit, which was the last thing I needed.

My body was screaming at me to stay in bed, curl up and fall right back to sleep. My mind was tempted to agree, but knowing that my uncle could pop in if I didn’t go persuaded me to actually get up.

I felt no need to put in any effort. Of course, I was the type of girl who liked to dress up and wear makeup. Today, sadly, was not one of those days. My hair made a good enough statement on its own and I didn’t feel the need to spend ten minutes on my eyebrows alone.

Yawning, I slip into a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a black tank top, a leather jacket and a pair of combat boots. I glanced at my phone to check the time, seeing that it was 7:00 am. I had to be at the school in thirty minutes and I had no idea where the hell it was. Fantastic. It was then that I remembered that my phone had a GPS and I wanted to slap myself.

I typed in the name of the school as I brushed my teeth, not wanting to suffer from stinky breath. I relaxed slightly as I read that the school was only about fifteen minutes away from here by driving. One of the only things I was grateful to my uncle for was the car he bought me, so I wouldn’t have to walk everywhere.

Swiftly after brushing my teeth, I grabbed my bag and a few mints, rushing out to the car to have my first cigarette of the day. I light up the cancer stick as I start the car, pulling out of the driveway with ease.

---

I was a few minutes late since I saw a McDonald’s and grew the need for a caffeine fix. Finding the office was easy. Talking to the staff to receive my schedule was not. “May I help you?” The woman behind the desk asked with a lazy expression. It was obvious she did not want to be here.

“I’m new,” I tell her shortly. “Hazel Adler.”

With a sigh, the woman rummaged through her paperwork. I was impatient, tapping my finger against the desk. I could see the scowl on her face as I continued to tap. It seemed to get on her nerves, but that didn’t mean I was going to stop. “Here,” she snapped slightly, practically throwing the piece of paper at me.

“Yup.”

I left without another word, looking down at my schedule. Frowning, I discovered that I had no idea where these places were. And a GPS was not going to be of any help this time. I rolled my eyes as I began my search for room 46, English IV.

There were a few straggling students trying to get to their classes, but there was no way in hell I was going to ask for help. I made my way down the first hallway I could see, reading the numbers on the doors. 12…11…10…Okay, I was obviously going in the wrong direction.
With a groan, I turned around to look for the room I was supposed to be in currently, learning about Shakespeare or whatever. “Need some help?”

I knew that the voice was asking me. Who else around me looked utterly clueless besides the obvious potheads. I turn my head to see a gangly boy walking towards me. Shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, and some wicked eyebrows. He wore a Blink-182 shirt under a blue hoodie with skinny jeans. I complimented his shirt in my head, but then I remembered that it was another human wearing it. Ew. “No shit,” was my dry reply as my gaze turned back to my schedule.

“Are you new?” He questioned as he walked beside me.

I held in a loud groan, “What gave you the first idea? The fact that I’m walking around like a moron or the fact that you’ve never seen me before.”

He chuckled at my retort. He seemed to think I was kidding. People usually thought that at first. “Both,” he leaned over my shoulder. “English IV?”

“Obviously.”

“I can show you there if you want,” I could see a smile on his face from the corner of my eye.

I was pretty lost, and I really needed to get to class before the principal did his thing. “Alright,” I reply, waving my arm in front of me. “Lead the way.”

As if he needed any pushing. We began walking in the opposite direction, making me want to slap myself again. He saw the annoyance on my face, “Yeah, this school is pretty confusing.”

I hummed in agreement, hoping that he would just shut up already. He just needed to bring me to class, and that was it. No chit chat, no small talk, nothing. But of course, he didn’t get the memo. “I’m Alex,” he introduced himself. “Who’re you?”

“Hazel,” I inform him shortly, praying that he would shut up before I had to snap at him.

This boy was probably the most oblivious guy I’ve ever spoken to because he just kept on talking. “That’s a cool name, like The Fault in Our Stars, right?”

I shrugged as he kept babbling. I could see from the room numbers that we were getting close. 40…41…42… “Mine’s really posh,” Alex said with a groan. “Alexander William Gaskarth. I mean, that’s not really me-“

My ears, nor my brain, could handle his voice anymore. I cut him off, “Okay Mr. Posh Man, I really need you to do me a favor and shut the fuck up.”

He seemed taken aback by my comment. The shock on his face made me want to laugh in it. “Excuse me?”

I rose my eyebrows, giving a look of mock concern, “I’m sorry, are you deaf? Does that hair make it hard of hearing? I would understand if those eyebrows made you blind, but your hair too? Jesus Christ boy…”

“Why are you being like that?” He seemed a bit hurt by the eyebrow comment, but did that affect me?

No.

“Because you’re pissing me off,” I snapped. “You don’t know how to take a fucking hint. Do I need to smack you in the face for you to see that I don’t want to speak to you? I don’t want you to speak to me, either! Is it just you, or is everyone at this school as slow as you are?”

Without another word, I walked towards the classroom labeled 46. Thank God. The teacher stopped teaching to look over at me, and then Alex who walked in behind me. “You’re late,” he insisted.

“True, but I’m new,” I smirked, pointing at Alex. “Now this kid, I have no idea what his excuse is.”

The teacher sighed, “You must be Hazel Adler. Please take a seat anywhere it's empty. And Mr. Gaskarth, you have detention with me for being late. Again.”

Snickers filled the classroom as I took a seat in the back of the class. I saw the shaggy-haired boy’s cheerful face turn to anger and humiliation as he took a detention slip and took his seat a few rows away from me.

Now, I didn’t necessarily enjoy seeing someone suffer, but there was something about that boy that made me relish in insulting him. Maybe it was because he pushed me farther than most have done before, or maybe it was the fact that he had that teenage douchebag aura about him. Either way, I was going to love seeing him squirm.

Notes

This is a story idea I've been playing around with for a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!