I stared mindlessly out the window, watching various trees, buildings, and people whizz past. Today was supposed to be a day for me to start afresh and heal.

Heal, what a stupid word.

There's no such thing as healing; there's only getting better at convincing everyone that you're okay.

My mum was amazing at pretending. She'd fool every visitor that came to see us with bright smiles and laughter, but as soon as the door closed, she'd lock herself up in her room and cry.

I glanced over at the front seat of the car where she sat. She was rambling on about her usual crap, and I'd shamefully stopped listening to a while ago.

If you took a quick glance at my mum, she looked okay. Her hair and jacket neat and sharp, her lipstick fresh. It all screamed, okay. But what gave her away, was her eyes. They were emotionless, dead, and unhappy. And who could blame her?

Her husband was a rapist.

Correction-her ex-husband was a rapist.

I was still adjusting to my new surname- Blythe. It was my mother's maiden name, and she changed our names back to it after the divorce. I didn't mind one bit; I'd rather be a Blythe than a Thomas. Just like, I'd rather be like my mother than my father.

So, Ethan Blythe, it was.

"Ethan, are you listening to a word I'm saying?" She laughed as she looked at me through the rear-view mirror.

Crap she's on to me.

"Hmm, yes, you were saying how much I'm gonna love it in California," I said, praying to God that this was still the topic of conversation.

"Ugh, I knew you weren't listening. I moved on from that fifteen minutes ago, Ethan," she snapped.

Swarmed by guilt, I sunk lower in my chair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to Mum, I just drifted off. What were you saying?" I asked politely.

I promised myself I'd make a conscious effort to be kinder to my mum, and I was already failing. I guess that was just my bad genes shining through.

My mum's eyes softened. "I was just saying how many new friends you're gonna make," she smiled.

"I don't want friends," I said simply.

Her eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Why on earth would you not want friends? You had tons of friends at your old school," she exclaimed.

I shrugged. "That was then, and this is now besides I've got Dylan, he's entertaining enough," I said as I gestured over to my baby brother.

He was sleeping soundly on a booster seat, on the seat beside me. I looked over at him with a smile. He was a cute little baby with bright blue eyes and little tufts of dark brown hair. He was the spitting image of me at the age, and the arrogant part of me loved that.

I just hoped for his sake he wasn't exactly like me.

"Dylan? Don't be ridiculous, Ethan, you can't be friends with a baby?" she laughed.

"And why not?" I asked.

"Because he's a baby!" she exclaimed.

"That's hardly a reason to discriminate, "I argued. "Since my time off school, Dylan and I, have been having a whale of a time together. We've been watching scooby doo. Not sure about him, but I'm hooked," I joked.

My mum didn't seem to find this funny and frowned. "A twelve-year-old boy should not be friends with a baby, Ethan," she snapped as she pulled into the school parking lot. She parked the car before twisting around in her seat to face me.

"I want you to make friends your own age. I don't want any more of this moping around, it's not healthy," she said as she ran a hand through her hair.

She looked tired; she always did these days. I was stressing her out, and I hated it.

"And I want to, b-but what if I hurt them," I asked nervously.

Pain flashed through her eyes. "Why do you keep saying this honey? You're not gonna hurt anyone," she explained softly. "You're a good boy."

"That's not what the guidance counselor said when I punched that boy in the face last year," I argued immediately.

She let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, I agree, that was wrong, but that boy shouldn't have called you that nasty name," she said.

"And I shouldn't have punched him," I snorted.

"Okay, yeah, whatever," she sighed. "Anyway, I'm gonna let you go now, and I'll pick you up at three, okay?" she explained chirpily.

I nodded my head and reached for the car door. I paused, just as I was about to open it and turned back to face her.

"Do I have to go in today? Don't you think I'd be of more use looking after Dylan? He might get scared with the new babysitter. You wouldn't want him to be scared, would you?" I said persuasively as I widened my eyes.

"Nice try Ethan, get out my car," she snapped.

Well, it was worth a shot.

Mumbling a goodbye, I reluctantly clambered out the car and started to make my way over to the school building. No other children were in the playground, so I'm guessing I was late.

Wonderful. Nothing more fun than walking into a full classroom when all eyes were on you.

I had structured today with a detailed plan, and there was no room for error. I just had to maintain three golden rules.

One-make friends with no one.

Two-no interactions with girls, and most especially no crushes.

And lastly, three-upset no students.

I was determined to make sure all rules were kept. I knew if there was a single slip, I was one step closer to becoming him.

I entered the building and quickly made my way over to the office. The administration lady pointed me in the right direction and told me to go to room 38B. Trudging my way through the corridor, I finally reached the said room. I peeked through the window.

A male teacher stood at the front of the room, and there was a sea of around thirty students sitting at their desks. It had been so long since I'd been to school, I'd almost forgotten what it was like. Structure, discipline and bore pretty much summed it all up.

The one good thing about what happened was my mum allowed me time off school to heal. It was good while it lasted.

Well, here goes nothing.

I brought my hand up to the door and gave it a firm double knock. The teacher looked through the window in surprise and then gestured for me to come in.

I swung the door open and slowly made my way into the classroom. All thirty pairs of eyes snapped in my direction and feeling nervous, I drew my eyes down to the floor.

"Ah so I take it you're are new student, Ethan Blythe," the teacher said, forcing a smile. I could tell it was forced; I knew for a fact this bald middle-aged man didn't give a shit who I was.

I plastered a smile on my face. "Yup," I snapped.

He chuckled. "Son, it's yes, not yup. We use proper English in this classroom," he retorted condescendingly.

Don't punch him, don't punch him, don't punch him.

"Of course, sir," I said putting on the poshest voice I could muster. I heard a few chuckles break out from the class, and I felt the corner of my mouth twitch up into a smile.

Clearly, I'm well on my way to class clown.

"Just go take a seat in the back corner, Blythe," he snapped.

Gladly.

I marched over to the back of the room and slumped down onto the chair. Mr grumpy pants, or whatever his name was, resumed on with the lesson. I glanced over at the board and saw he was frantically explaining some basic algebra.

I could just instantly tell he was one of those teachers that just didn't know how to teach. His overuse of complicated terminology seemed more condescending than helpful.

With a sigh, I fished my notebook out my notebook from my bag and slapped it down onto the desk. I gave up listening after about a minute, feeling suffocated by boredom. I knew this already, so what was the point. I'd used my time off school productively and managed to read ahead and get through the whole 6th-grade syllabus.

I know, I know, it's kinda sad, but I wanted to do well. The smarter I am, the less reason I'll have to turn to a life of crime.

Well hopefully.

Deciding to take a cheeky little nap, I pulled my baseball cap forward, so my eyes were obscured. Just as I was feeling myself start to drift off, I heard somebody clear their throat.

I looked up and almost jumped out my seat as I found our livid looking teacher leering over my desk.

Jesus Christ.

"Ethan Blythe, hat now please," he snapped as he held out an expectant hand.

I rolled my eyes and pulled the hat off my head and handed it over. As he marched away, all the kids in the classroom turned around in their seats to look at me with curious eyes. I was just about to pull my gaze away when something caught my eyes, or well someone caught my eyes.

Sitting on the seat diagonal from mine was a girl. She was looking at me shamelessly, uncaringly as though she didn't even care that she'd been caught staring. Not being able to help myself. I gave her a once over.

She was a small little thing, with soft gentle features, round face, and big brown doe eyes. Her wavy chestnut-colored hair was tied up into two messy pigtails, giving her a cute doll-like look.

I never really understood why people were so into girls, but suddenly it was starting to make a whole lot of sense.

She was beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful.

Shit, I've been staring too long.

I immediately drew my eyes away from her and broke our weird little staring contest. I don't know what was wrong with me, but my palms were sweaty, and my heart was beating erratically fast.

Uh oh.

Had I seriously just broken rule number two already?

You do not have a crush. You do not have a crush. You do not have a crush.

It was fine, everything was totally fine. I just found her pretty, so what? That didn't mean I had a crush on her. You actually have to talk to someone to like them, right? For all, I know she could be super annoying, so there's no point working myself up about. I guarantee this feeling won't last till the end of the day.

I felt my shoulders sag down, and I started to relax. That's when I heard rustling. I lifted my head curiously and glanced over to my left.

The sound was coming from Miss-brown eyes. Her hand was busily digging around in a skittles packet on her lap. I watched her curiously for a while, smiling every time she popped a skittle into her mouth when the teacher wasn't looking.

Tut, tut, how naughty.

I guess I wasn't one to talk, considering I'd tried to take a nap less than five minutes ago. I continued to stare at her, making sure to look away at regular intervals. Didn't want to get caught, and look like a creep.

I must have started to get sloppy with my method because she suddenly moved her head and glanced my way. As soon as her big brown eyes pierced through mine, I forgot how to breathe. They were hard to look away from; it was almost impossible.

How could one girl be so annoyingly beautiful?

It was like she'd been planted in this room for the sole aim of distracting me. As her eyes sparkled with amusement, she put a finger up to her rosy pink lips and mouthed shush while pointing down to her packet of skittles. Then she smiled.

And as soon as she smiled, it was all over for me. Rule number two had crashed and burned.

As pathetic as it sounds, her smile lit up her whole face and made her look that much more beautiful.

And she was smiling at me.

I know what you're thinking Ethan and dream-on, she'll never notice your five-foot punk ass self with severe anger issues.

She mouthed, 'do you want one' at me as she nodded her head down to the skittles.

God, did I want to say yes, desperate to share any kind of interaction with this girl. But I didn't. I kept my face straight and shook my head. I didn't deserve to interact with her. I was supposed to be learning to keep myself to myself. For everyone's sake and most especially for her sake.

She just shrugged her shoulders and went back to looking at the board.

I tried to focus back on Mr grumpy pants lesson, but my mind just kept wandering as did my eyes. Every time I moved them away, they would always go straight back to her. Well, I might as well make use of all this staring.

With that thought, I quietly ripped a sheet out of my notebook and got out my pen. Then I got to work and started to sketch. I wasn't much of an artist, but I wasn't too bad with cartoons.

Once I was finished, I smiled down at my cute little cartoon drawing of Miss-brown eyes. Before I could stop myself-I scribbled down a title onto the page.

Future Mrs. Ethan Blythe.

Yeah, yeah, I know, a little bit creepy, but you can't fault a boy for dreaming.

Because, boy, was I dreaming right now.

"Mia Collins, what is the answer to number four?" the teacher snapped.

This dude needs to take some serious chill pills.

Miss brown eyes jumped a little in her seat and sat straighter.

So, that's her name- Mia Collins. I like it.

"I...er...I," she stuttered nervously as she started to fidget in her seat.

"I...er...I, is not an answer, Mia," he sassily snapped.

Mia sunk lower in her chair.

"Come on, Mia, spit out an answer. You're a smart student, you should be able to solve this one," he smirked as though he enjoyed watching her squirm.

Fuck this guy. I've had enough of this.

"Maybe if one of your smartest students isn't able to solve the problem, it's more of a reflection on your bad teaching," I piped up loudly. "Just an idea," I shrugged.

His eyes snapped towards me, as well as the eyes of every other student in the room. His face twisted up into a scowl.

"Ah, Mr. Blythe, we have more to say, do we?" he spat.

"Oh, my bad, let me correct myself. Just an idea, sir," I smiled.

His face turned a furious red, and I wouldn't be surprised if he ran over to me and started to wring my neck.

I know I was playing a dangerous game by pissing off my teacher on my first day of school, but I didn't care. I didn't like how he was making Mia feel shitty, she deserved respect.

"Well, since you're having so much fun being a little smart-ass, Ethan, why don't you come up to the board and solve the question?" he sneered.

"Love to," I replied keenly.

Without another word, I slid out of my chair and marched my way over to the board. I snatched the whiteboard pen out of his hand and started to solve the equation.

In about five seconds, I had my answer. I turned to face sir, with a bored expression upon my face.

"There's no way you solved it that fast, you're way too overconfident and should check your answer and you...and...and," he trailed off as his eyes gazed over the whiteboard in disbelief. "That's the right answer," he whispered.

Yeah, that's right dick.

I cleared my throat. "And just an additional point, your answer to question two is wrong, sir. You've forgotten to carry the four. Maybe you should check over your answers," I snappily finished.

He looked back over at the board, and his eyes widened as he spotted the mistake. I smirked, watching his mouth part open in shock.

Then just like that, I turned on my heel and walked calmly back to my seat. The entire class was quiet. I heard a lone person start to slowly clap before the sound slowly increased as more people started to join in. Soon, the whole class was clapping with the occasional person hooting my name.

I kept my gaze unwaveringly on sir, and the corners of my lips quirked up into a smile as if to silently tell him, 'Try me bitch.'

"Silence at once class," he yelled.

He gave me one final nasty glare, before snapping his eyes away from me and resuming on with the class.

Well, the next parent-teacher conference should be fun.

Another five minutes went past, and I had resulted to a routine of half staring out the window and half-listening to him drag on. I was just in the middle of my window staring part of my routine when I suddenly saw a scrunched-up piece of paper whizz past my face and land on my desk.

I looked around in confusion, but then stopped when my eyes landed on Mia. She was staring at me with a bright smile on her face and was making gestures, indicating for me to open it. To my embarrassment, my heart started galloping a mile a minute.

Jesus Christ, Ethan, she's just smiled at you, get a grip.

I looked down at the piece of paper with a mixture of excitement and fear.

Excitement-because duh, a cute girl had just thrown this to me.

And fear-because I promise myself no interactions.

I looked back at her, and her big brown eyes were staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to open it.

Oh god, I couldn't say no to those eyes.

Not being able to help myself, my mouth pulled up into a half-smile. I reached for the paper and started to unfold it. I laughed quietly as I saw she had taped a skittle to the page. And below that, she had neatly written.

Thanks for putting Mr dickhead in his place, I owe you one. xx

P. S I'm sorry he took your hat.

P. P. S. What were you drawing earlier?

A wide smile stretched over my face as I read over the note, but my heart stopped when I got to the last question.

Well, shit.

I certainly couldn't tell her the truth. I'm not sure it would go down all that well, if I casually wrote back, 'Oh nothing much, just drew a little picture of you which I tilted my future wife, no biggie.' Yeah, it doesn't take a genius to know that screams creepy as hell.

I picked off the skittle and looked up at her with a grateful smile, before popping it into my mouth. I knew I should have just left it at that, but I couldn't help myself. I tore off a clean piece of paper from my notebook and got out my pen. I wrote:

Trust me, I was more than happy putting Mr dickhead in his place. And yeah, I agree, you do owe me one. (haha joking)

P.S. Yeah I'm sorry he stole my hat too, but to be fair, I was trying to sleep in his class. XD

P.P.S. It was a drawing of Mr dickhead getting run over by a car

P.P.P.S. I was driving....

I scrunched it up and waited till sir had his back turned before throwing it swiftly over to her table.

She wasted no time and snatched it up immediately. As her eyes scanned over it, a smile broke out onto her lips before she put a hand over her mouth to suppress her laughter.

Holy shit, I made her laugh...

She looked up and grinned at me before mouthing 'You're funny.'

Yeah, rule number two was definitely in the bin...

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