"Hey new girl." Bad Boy Marcus Says from behind me.

I don't turn around. He sits on the table.

"I need your name, new girl." He demands.

"You think you'd know it since we are in multiple classes together." I mumble, regardless of my fast heartbeat.

"The teachers don't say your name." He says.

His friends appear behind him.

"Who's this chick? I seen her at school before.." One of them with blonde hair and blue eyes asks.

"She won't tell me." He says.

"What do you mean?" The the other one says. He had chocolate skin and a short Afro with blonde on the top. He had brown eyes.

"I don't know her name." Marcus explains.

"What's your name, new girl?" Marcus asks again.

"I'm not telling you." I mumble.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Because you don't deserve it." I respond.

Honestly, the truth was, if someone knew my name, it made it more possible for them to spread rumors about me.

I get up and leave the cafe. I drink the rest of my coffee, ignoring the fact that Marcus and his friends were following closely behind. They were talking about me. I hear some of their conversation.

"Bro, why bother her? You got so many other chicks." The dark skin boy says.

"I don't know. I just wanna know her name, then I'll leave her alone." Marcus Says.

"You know every girls name in the school. You've flirted with almost every girl in the school. You don't need to bug this gothic chick." The blonde says.

I'm not gothic.

"I know. That's the point. Every girl crushes on me. But she acts like she doesn't. She's too...isolated." Marcus Says.

"Let her be isolated then. It's okay to have one girl who doesn't like you." The dark skin one says.

"Shut up, James." Marcus snaps.

"But he's right, dude." The blonde says.

"I don't care, Jackson." Marcus Says.

Jackson, James, and Bad Boy Marcus.

They were all good-looking but they were probably all bad boys. Even if they aren't, I know Marcus is. And they are friends with Marcus. I hate bad boys.

I arrive at the school and look behind me. Marcus and his friends have already found a group of pretty girls to flirt with. I walk over to my locker and get my books and put my backpack in my locker. I throw my empty coffee cup away in the nearest trash can. I shut and lock my locker, and then I walk to class. The teacher isn't in there when I get in there. I pull my phone out, and look at my wallpaper. It's a picture of my mom. She was at an amusement park. Her hair blowing. I remember that day perfectly.

FLASHBACK:

I am 6 years old and we are at an amusement park. We just got off a roller coaster, and we had just gotten cotton candy.

"I'm surprised they let you on." She says.

I laugh. "I'm a big girl, mommy!" I say.

"Yes you are." She smiles. She's holding cotton candy. She looks up at the sky, her hair blowing in the wind. I pull out the Polaroid

camera I was given, and I snap a picture of her. I pull out the picture, put the camera back in my backpack, and then wave the picture in the air, to get the image to show up.

My mom is beautiful. She had dark brown hair. It had highlights in it at the time. It was naturally straight, but it had just came out of Dutch braids, so it had small waves in it. Her eyelashes were naturally long, and her teeth were so perfect and her smile was beautiful. Her body was perfect. She had hazel eyes. Not dark brown like mine, and my fathers. Her skin was fair. I look more like my dad. Pale skinned, and not anywhere near as pretty as my mom.

The image shows up and I smile at it. I hide it in the pocket of my jeans. She looks down at me, a serious look on her face.

"Promise me something, sweetie. Promise me that you'll always be a big girl. You're so tuff and I want you to stay that way. No matter what life throws your way, you have to get through it. Promise?" She asks.

"Yes mommy." I respond.

"Never give up. Keep going. Don't let life crush your spirits."

"I won't mommy." I promise.

BACK TO THE PRESENT:

I broke my promise. Life is destroying me. Breaking me. There's barely any pieces left to break. I'm sorry mom. I broke it. I can't help it. I broke the promise to my mom. I wish I looked more like her. She's so beautiful. But I look like my dad. Pale skin, dark brown eyes, jet black hair, and a tiny body.

The teacher walks in and I power my phone off and slide it into my back pocket.

She teaches the class and I continue through out the day. Bad Boy Marcus continues to bother me.

I decide to actually eat lunch, and I go outside on my regular bench to eat. Marcus joins me.

"Why do you hate me?" He says.

I ignore him.

"Like, most girls love me. But you despise me." He explains.

"I'm not most girls." I say.

That sounded so cliche.

"I see that." He mumbles.

I turn to him, and attempt to get rid of him.

"I will never like you. You should give up. I don't like bad boys. I'm not gonna cling to you like every other girl."

"I don't give up. And it's fine if you don't like me, because I like a challenge."

He puts his hand on my knee and I flinch. I glare at him.

"I've convinced every girl in this school to fall head over heels for me. This is different to me. You're different to me." He smirks.

"Why?" I ask, scooting away from him.

"Why what?" He asks.

"Why do you get every girl to like you?" I explain.

"Because I love attention."

"Why?"

"You like asking questions, new girl." He grumbles.

I look at my feet in embarrassment. He obviously doesn't want anyone to know about him. He walks back inside, and I finish my lunch in silence.

(a/n): Hey guys! I really need an authors note. I just keep forgetting to do them. If these chapters offend you, I apologize. I don't really know what else to say. Hope you enjoy. Bye.