Taylor

Staring at the board, at the front of the class, I think I understand about half of what we're doing. It's not enough, not when the rest of the class understands the whole of it and more. I really need to start studying however it's hard to muster the enthusiasm when you have nothing to aim for.

I raise my hand.

"Yes?" Mrs Morrell looks up from her desk. I'm almost certain she doesn't know my name.

"Can I be excused? I need to go to the-"

Mrs Morrell waves her hand. "Quick, quick."

Grabbing my bag, I walk towards the door.

"You don't need to take your bag," Ms Morrell says flatly.

I definitely do. It has all the pills I will be stashing into people's lockers. "I do it has..." I taper off.

"She's on the blob," a voice calls out.

Laughter erupts around the classroom and my face heats. Everyone is staring at me, laughing at me and my eyes suddenly water. I'm on the verge of crying which would only make this situation worse.

I press my lips together and blink back the tears. I hate being the centre of attention. I hate being laughed at and made fun of. I really hate it, because it brings back memories of what happened at my old school.

"Enough," Ms Morrell snaps then turns to me. "Taylor, you may take your bag."

I swivel around and exit the door. People snigger while their eyes burn into the back of my head.

Slamming the door behind me, I stare at the hallway floor then walk towards the toilet. I don't even need to use it except right now, I'm on the brink of crying and I don't want to cry in a public. I refuse to let anyone see I'm upset.

The worst part is about eight months ago I would have laughed at that comment and said 'The only blob around here is you.' or 'And, that's why you're still single, you have the vocabulary of a five-year-old. It's called a period, females get them, something you would know if any wanted to go near you."

I don't ever say anything now. I never speak up in class. I try to avoid anything that brings attention to me. Hiding in the shadows and keeping a low profile is my aim at school. It stops you from getting hurt.

Slamming into a hard wall, I shriek, waiting for the pain but there isn't any. There's only warmth and as I inhale deeply, an enticing smell wraps itself around me. This is the most comfortable wall I've ever walked into. Except, walls don't hug or smell good or chuckle.

"You enjoying yourself there?" The low voice rumbles.

"What do you think you're doing?" I snap, jerking myself free of the wall's arms.

I glare at Ryder and his casual smile which suggests girls smelling him and allowing him to hold them is a daily occurrence. What am I saying? Of course it's a daily occurrence.

"You're the one who ploughed into me. I was just going along with it." Ryder smirks.

"There was no ploughing of any kind going on, nor will there ever be." I grab the strap of my bag and clench it tightly to stop myself from hitting him. "I'm sure there are plenty of other girls who will happily plough you and you can plough them. Just use protection. We don't need more people in the world who can't spell their own name."

I dart around him and continue toward the toilet.

"I can't work out whether you think I'm dumb or the girls I sleep with are," Ryder says from behind me.

I turn around and shrug. "Let's just say, a clever person would wear a condom and, if the rumours are true, you have more STIs than a full waiting room at a sexual health clinic."

Ryder arches an eyebrow. "I told you most of what is said isn't true."

"You also insinuated your name is Ryder because you're good in bed, so I'm calling bullshit on most of what you say."

"There's an easy way to prove that."

"Not going to happen. You're cliche bad boy act may do it for most but not me. Go find a willing vagina because I'm not one of them." I turn away.

"I'll remember that," Ryder calls out. "You can thank me later by the way."

I huff. This guy is annoying. I turn around and cross my arms. "For what?"

"I stopped you from wanting to cry." Ryder grins, swivels around and walks away leaving me staring at his back in disbelief.

It's true. I don't want to cry anymore. I want to knee him in the groin and stop him from ever being able to use his dick again. I'd be doing everyone a favour.

Ryder's trouble. Everyone knows he's the school bad boy. What I said earlier was true he is a walking cliche; sexy, dangerous and tough. He walks around like he owns the place and he's known for being involved in drugs which immediately tells me I need to stay away. Ryder is not involved in dealing legal drugs which are safe, he's involved in the bad type, the ones which make people sell their bodies and steal from their own families.

I exhale slowly. As much as I know I will stay away, I have to admit talking to him is the first time I felt truly myself again. I didn't stop myself from talking. I didn't hold back. I was just being me. Turns out, I'm more of a bitch than I realised. Then again, at my old school I was known for saying what I thought. I wasn't nasty but I didn't hold back. I was talkative and popular until it all changed. My sister fucked up which resulted in us moving and now I'm here.

Six months in this school, and I have two friends, one boyfriend, who I'm not sure about, and I hand out prescription pills for a guy I'm crushing on hard but can't be with.

Sighing, I glance at my watch, twenty minutes until lesson ends. Plenty of time to deliver the pills before the next lesson.

Author's Notes

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