P A R T   O N E

Sierra's POV

The tie around my collar tightens with my grip as I prepare myself for another day of school that I'm dreading.

There's nothing wrong with school. The teachers are pretty laid back, my classmates never cause me any problems, my grades are decent; not to level I'd prefer them to be, but at a reasonable rate that I can live with. The only thing wrong with school is that it makes me feel trapped. I should probably make the most of my last year, but every time I step foot in a classroom and am forced to sit through endless lessons that tire me, I just gaze out of the windows and stare up at the birds that spread their wings and fly through the sky.

I envy them in the way that they can fly wherever they want, whenever they want. They're free. While I'm sat in a classroom listening to a monotone voice read from a textbook I have no interest of listening to.

I can't wait until I have the money and time to travel the world and see it the way birds do. I can't wait to see the beauty in this place I call home. I'm not built for sitting in classrooms, still like a statue, forced to zip my mouth and remain silent. I need to keep moving, I need to explore, I need to talk, I need to laugh, I need to smile. When I'm not able to do those things, it feels like I'm not living at all.

* * *

After tying my black, silky hair into a high ponytail, I try to make my uniform look somewhat presentable, and then travel down the stairs where my dad is waiting for me.

"Ready?" he asks when my presence is noticed. He switches off his phone and shoves it in his pocket, giving me his full attention.

I lift a large smile, causing wrinkles to grow around my eyes. "Yep."

"Let's go," he says, standing from the sofa that he sits on. He runs his hand through his jet black hair that is slicked back in its usual position with the gel I always see him leave in the bathroom.

Before I can walk towards the front door, my dad whistles and calls me back to where he's stood. I immediately take a few steps towards him and wait as he fishes inside his pocket.

"Is that enough for lunch?"

I don't bother counting the money he's dropped in my hand. He always gives me more than enough — so much that it slowly builds up in my bag after time. "Yes, thank you, dad."

"Could you get the bus back today or catch a lift with someone? I'm working late."

I nod my head. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll sort something."

"Thanks, sweetheart."

His large hand ruffles the hair on my head before he walks us both to the front door and unlocks his company car for me to climb into the passenger seat.

I'm surprised my dad drives me to school everyday. He must get bored of it after driving people around all day as a part of his job. He always used to love driving when I was little, he would spend his free time taking my brother and I on long drives in the dark so we could gaze at the views. Since he started his taxi business, he doesn't do it anymore. It's a shame, but I understand why he's lost his passion for it.

"Have you got your mock results back yet?" he questions and makes conversation on the way to school.

I rest my elbow on the open window and allow the fresh breeze to blow against my face, causing my cheeks to grow rosy and ice cold. "I got a five in english and a four in maths. Not the best, but it's a pass at least."

My dad lifts a smile and beams a proud expression in my direction. "Well done, Sierra. I knew you could do it."

"They're not my real exams," I remind him, chuckling. "But thanks, dad. Seriously, those revision sessions from you and Issac actually helped a lot."

"Really?"

"Yep. I know, I was surprised as well," I joke, grinning cheekily. "Especially when most of the time I was teaching you guys what to do."

He smiles sheepishly. "It's been a long time since I've been in a classroom, kiddo. I'm surprised I still know how to divide."

"Come on. Division is the easiest part of maths."

Dad raises his eyebrows. "That's because you're smart, Sierra."

"You're smart, too. You passed all your exams."

"A long time ago."

The car stops in the car park of my school, allowing me to jump out and jog inside so I'm not late to tutor. I wave my hand over my shoulder and beam a grateful smile at my dad as I travel up the path and enter the tall black and white building. The corridors only consist of a few other students from other years, showing me that everyone is already in their tutor rooms.

I reach room 204, my tutor room, and don't waste a second before I make an appearance to the twenty other students in there.

Grinning ear to ear, I wiggle my fingers at my teacher as a way of waving. "Hi, sir."

"You're late...again," he tells me calmly, not taking his gaze away from his laptop screen.

He's so used to me arriving late that he doesn't even care anymore.

"Sorry, but it wasn't my fault."

"What a surprise. What happened this time?"

"Basically," I say, working hard to come up with an excuse. "Traffic was awful. My dad and I were sat in it for like half an hour."

Sir sighs, clearly not believing a word I say. "Sit down please."

My gaze shifts to my seat in the second row of the class. Liliana is already sat at our table, raising her eyebrows and showing off a knowing smile after watching the scene.

"Traffic, huh?" she mutters when I sit down beside her.

"Yep." I can't seem to wipe the grin away from my face.

Shaking her head while chuckling, she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her texts.

I swivel my head around to glance over my shoulder, making eye contact with our friends that sit at the back of the class. I smile and wave at Harriet, Krista, Jill and Richelle.

We have a love-hate relationship. Sometimes we'll spend the day crying with laughter, annoying our other classmates with the volume of our voices, cracking jokes and having deep talks that I'll take with me to the grave. Other times, we're in each other's faces and saying exactly what we think.

We're all quite fiery and upfront — except from Liliana who hates any sort of confrontation. Even if someone takes advantage of her kindness and treats her like crap, she refuses to ever speak up about it and stand up for herself, leaving me to do that job for her.

I honestly couldn't care about what people think of me, so I'll gladly take a stand for Liliana. We've been best friends since nursery, we've been through everything together and have spend almost every day in each other's presence. She's more like a sister, so it's only natural that I'm overprotective in those ways.

She's different from the other girls. I wouldn't mind so much if they never spoke to me again, but if it was Liliana, a piece of me would die and cease to exist. I'd lose myself, because she's a major part of my life.

Many older people have informed me of the fact that I won't speak to any of my schoolmates once I'm in college. I doubt that will be the case with Liliana, but I'm almost positive that the other girls and I will all drift. We're going to different colleges once we finish our last year of school, so I really only have a few months left with them. I'm trying to make the most of it, because I will actually miss them. We've all been close friends all throughout school, and although there's been so much drama and arguments, we've made some good memories.

I always try to accept things before they actually happen, this way I don't get hurt in the long run. This is what I'm doing now. I'm preparing myself for the day that we'll no longer text in the group chat and share our daily gossip. I've accepted it.

"Do you want to go for a drive on the mopeds later?" Liliana asks me while our tutor teacher strolls around the room and catches up with each student.

"Sure. Who's going."

"Me, you, Ricky and Hayden. It was their idea, they invited us this morning."

"Sounds good. Are we meeting them at break?"

Resting her chin on her hand, she nods her head. "Remember we have art with them second period."

I drop my head on my shoulders and let out a groan. "Miss Redford has been on my back about finishing the main piece."

"Why don't you finish it then?"

"I did. She basically told me that it was crap and I need to start again. Every time I present my work to her, she always draws on it and adds her own style. I hate it."

"She does that with me as well. I did a painting of my dogs, it took me an entire week to finish. Only showed her to get her opinion, and then she started adding letters and ripped pieces of newspaper."

"She infuriates me sometimes."

"Me and all," Liliana agrees.

After twenty minutes of gossiping instead of revising for our upcoming exams in a couple of months, the bell rings and we finally get released into the corridors with every other student who shoves us and screams in our ears.

I take hold of Liliana and place her in front of me, making sure the ones standing behind don't shove her. We both laugh as we try to find our way through the wave of people.

We finally manage to escape the main building where we walk around the outside of school and take our time to get to our next class, using the five minutes to catch up on each other's lives.

"I'm so tired," a deep voice speaks from behind us.

I lift my head and twist it around to glance up at Ricky who looks like he's just been dragged out of bed and forced into school.

"Same," I groan out, mustering a small smile. "I want my bed already."

Hayden is walking beside Ricky with his hands shoved in his trouser pockets and his shoulders hunched to make himself seem as small as possible. I beam a large smile at him as our usual form of greeting. He returns it immediately, his face seems to brighten as soon as he realises I'm looking at him.

"Hey, Hayden," I say, allowing Ricky to walk ahead with Liliana who he shares his strawberry laces with. She allows him to have a sip of her energy drink in return.

"Hi, Sierra," he replies in his usual quiet, soft tone. He runs his hand through his blonde, fluffy hair, making sure it's in place.

"How was your weekend?"

He stares down at his feet as we walk ahead, sometimes glancing up to make eye contact for a few seconds before he pulls it away and blushes again. This is a usual occurrence for him.

Hayden has always been a nervous, shy person. I've always found it sweet, even though he hates himself for it. He always expresses how much he wishes he could be confident and more manly. I always try to assure him that I like his personality, that he shouldn't change for anyone and should love himself for who he is. He doesn't believe me. He never does. Since the day I've met him, he's always been insecure about his smile, his height, his personality. It's a shame that he doesn't see himself for who he truly is.

He's such a great guy and friend, but he refuses to see it.

"It was okay. How was yours?" he asks.

I shrug my shoulders and hum. "Same. It was a bit boring because none of you could meet, but I got to see my brother and hang with him for a little while."

"Oh, yeah. How is Issac?"

"He's good, just busy with work like always. He asked about you."

"Really?" Hayden's entire face lights up.

"Yep, just asked how you're doing and everything. I thought it was sweet of him."

He smiles and nods his head in agreement, finally looking me in the eye so I'm able to see the light brown colours that swim in his.

"You'll have to come with me to meet him again," I say.

"Yeah, that'll be good. I actually really enjoyed that day when we all went to your house."

Ricky faces us, ready to welcome himself into our chat. "I ate so much kebab that I threw up. Can you remember that?"

"Yes, I can, Ricky, because you stank up my entire bathroom. I used two entire bottles of air freshener, and nothing worked. That stench stayed for weeks."

He grins cheekily, showing off his pearly whites in the process. "Be thankful it wasn't your living room."

Liliana grimaces her face at the memory. "It was horrible."

"You didn't even help me," he exclaims.

"I'm a sympathetic puker."

"Still, you could have held my hair back," he jokes, running his hand over his almost bald head.

She rolls her eyes in response, reaching over to grab another sweet.

"What lesson have you got now?" Hayden asks me.

I pull out my timetable from my blazer pocket and scan over the text. "PE. Great."

"That sucks. PE is my least favourite subject."

I laugh and shove the paper back into my pocket, not caring about how it crumbles up and almost rips. "Why? I've seen you run and ride bikes loads, you seem to love sports."

"I always embarrass myself and I hate an audience. It's just awkward."

"And the PE kits," Ricky adds, shivering. "They're fucking awful."

"Agreed," I say. "That's why I always write notes from my dad to get out of it."

"It never works, though. Miss never believes you, you always end up getting detention," Liliana laughs.

I pout my lips to the side as we walk closer towards the PE department. "True. I need to come up with better ideas. At least I never have to participate, though. I'd rather have a detention than get into the PE kits."

We reach the sports department where the boys both drop us off before they head off to lesson. Liliana and I linger around for a few minutes, talking to Ricky and Hayden a little while longer.

"Right, we better get going," I say, sighing out of exhaustion at the thought of dealing with our PE teacher who seems to have some kind of vendetta against me. "See you in art."

"Fun," Ricky expresses in a sarcastic voice as he rests his head back on his shoulders. "Good luck in PE. See you in a bit."

"Bye, guys." Liliana waves to them both, but doesn't lift her gaze from her phone to watch them leave.

Hayden stares at me and awkwardly smiles as he tries to search for the right words to say.

"Bye," is all he comes up with.

I almost laugh, but somehow manage to contain myself. "See you both next period."

Liliana and I go our separate ways from the boys who both head off to their next lesson. The smile on my face from Hayden's shy and awkward behaviour remains.