Ugh, my head is killing me. I can't even open my eyes. They're so heavy.

My alarm has been going off for ten minutes now; I need to get up and turn it off. I slowly get off my bed and walk over to my desk. When I swipe the button across, the alarm turns off.

I wonder if my dad is up. I want to check on him to see if he's alright, but I'm scared—memories of last night's flood my mind. I don't remember everything I said, not word for word, at least. But I remember the just.

I walk into my bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are as red as a tomato. I reach into the drawer and grab my eye drops. I hate doing this.

I tilt my head back and open my eyes as wide as I can; I squint hard when the drops fall into my eyes.

After keeping them close for like a minute, I open them to see the result. They're not as red as before, I've done this before, so I know my eyes will look normal in a few more minutes. I undress and hop into the shower.

I've decided to wear my ripped jeans along with my red long sleeve crop top. I'm wearing my hair down today. It looks bigger than usual. I know my mother would disapprove of the wild, untamed look.

But she isn't here, sadly.

She is probably going to call me today. Should I tell her about dad getting drunk?

No, he'll tell her...hopefully.

Even if he doesn't, I won't say anything.

I know she'll get mad, and I don't want her to stay away longer. I need to bring them together, and me telling her surely will tear them apart even further. I grab my book bag and head downstairs. I find my dad dressed in his black suit, leaning over the counter with a bottle of water in one hand and his cellphone in the other. He acknowledges me.

"Jayda, are you alright?" He asks. I don't look at him.

"Yes." I walk over to the door.

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday, everything you said... I didn't... I didn't know you felt like that."

How could you? You're never around.

He continues. "I'm sorry, I really am." His eyes begin to water. It looks like he is about to cry. But he's holding back his feelings, just as he always does.

Just as men always do?

People say that women are overly emotional beings, but in my opinion, it really is men, or at least they are equally as emotional as us. Men mask their true emotions because if they express them, they will be labeled the same as women are... emotional wrecks.

So how could we be labeled as overly emotional when we have nothing to compare to?

So are women really over emotional beings? Or is it Men?

"We should go," I say to him.

...

I decided to skip my first-period class. Not only because I don't want to see Ryder, but I have to work on this first chapter.

I know the characters are Ryder and me. Well, not us exactly but our names. I wonder why he chose our names. Ironically, his name starts with an R, and mine begins with a J.

Unpopular and popular is a really good plot, but I feel like it's overused.

Almost every teen romance movie or book is about the popular bad boy and loner girl. Or it's the geek boy and cheerleader girl. We need something different. Something unique.

"There you are!" Violet says, walking towards me. She has on a long sky blue skirt, with a white short sleeve button up. She takes the seat in front of me.

"What happened yesterday? You didn't call," she says.

Crap. I didn't. I was too busy indulging in something I shouldn't have. "I'm sorry, I just got caught up in stuff with my dad." I partially lie.

"Well, that's good to hear; I thought Ryder killed you or something." she laughs.

"No, he left early and went to a party."

"The pregame party?" She asks.

"I think so." I didn't ask him what party; I assumed it was that one. They always throw a party the day before a game and the day after if they win.

"Uhm," she tilts her head to the side. "He didn't come."

"What?!" I ask, shocked; he was so adamant about going.

"I was there; he didn't come to the pregame party. Ashely threw a fit because he didn't show up." She laughs at her words. I laugh too.

"So, what happened here yesterday?"

"You mean what happened with Ryder." she corrects me, asking what I really wanted to ask. "Where do I start? Well, English, he stormed out of class. Mr. Brooks asked me where you were, and I said you were at home. Ashely made a smart remark; everyone laughed, then he stormed out."

"What did she say?" I don't care what she said, but for some reason, I want to know. She looks down. She doesn't want to tell me. "Violet, it's okay, you can tell me," I assure her.

"She just said you were home...with your baby." She says the last part of her sentence so low that I could barely hear her. But I did.

"Oh."

"Jay--" I cut her off.

"I don't have a baby Violet," I answer the question I knew she was going to ask. She doesn't say anything. She just looks at me. "Violet, how come you try so hard to be my friend? How come you even talk to me? You know all the rumors there are about me, you know what they say, and yet you still want to be around me, in front of people." It's something I've thought about for a while now, but I never wanted to ask. I've always been scared of what her answer would be.

"I don't care about any of that. They're just what you said, rumors. When I first came here, trust me, you were all people talked about. And because I was new, I feel like people were trying extra hard to get me to turn on you." she states, "But how can I turn on somebody that I've never met? The fact that people tried so hard to get me not to like you made me want to get to know you even more. And I'm glad I did because you are nothing like how they made you out to be."

My heart warms at her words; there are kind people in the world. I know that the girl that sits in front of me represents those people well.

She could have listened to everyone. She could have believed all the things people said about me, but she didn't, and for that, I will be forever grateful.

"Do you want to sleep over this weekend?" I ask her. Her eyes widen; she's surprised, I know.

"Sure." She says. She has the brightest smile on her face. "I'll come over after the game."

There are only twenty minutes left until the second period. I would skip that class too, but we have a quiz. I can't miss that.

I got a little bit of the assignment done, and I've managed to get one paragraph down; its not as hard as it was before; I can do this. Then again, it's only the introductory chapter.

My mind is still all over the place, my thoughts are racey, and my hands are shaking.

Thats the thing about drugs. They make you need them. Without them, you aren't able to function. I knew what I was getting myself into when I started back. I asked for this.

I reach into my bag and grab my pills; just one should calm me. I get up and walk into one of the aisles to make sure that no one spots me popping pills.

I unloosen the top and take one out. I stare at it for a second before popping it in my mouth and putting the lid back on. Before I can even make it out of the aisle, I bump into someone's rock hard body. Their arms grab me, steadying me.

I look up, and it's Ryder. Big surprise.

He's wearing his football jersey, its school tradition to wear it the day of the game.

"What are you doing?" He says with his green grass eyes burning into me; his grip is still on both of my arms.

"Nothing," I pull away from him.

"Why aren't you in class?" he asks.

"Because I'm trying to finish our assignment." I walk past him over to the table I was sitting at.

He's following behind me. "Have you finished?"

"Just about." I grab my things and put them into my bag. He doesn't say anything. He continues to just stare at me.

What is he staring at me for? Why is he still here? I turn around, "Do you need something?" I growl. He's just looking at me. Didnt he come in here for a reason?

He opens his mouth to speak, but the library door bursts open, and in comes Matt, Zach, and Andrew. "Woah, what's going on here!?" Matt yells with a creepy grin on his face. It's something about him that just gives me bad vibes even before that incident the other day; he's always just given me... weird vibes.

They walk up closer to us. Zach and Andrew look me up and down. Matt's eyes are directly on Ryder. I need to leave. I don't want to be around them, I don't know what's going on, but I know this is my cue to leave.

I throw my bag on my shoulder and attempt to walk around Ryder before I can though he moves in front of me. "Ryder." I try to go the other way, but he grabs my arm. I try to pull it from out of his hand, but his grip is tight. It hurts. He's holding the arm I cut; the cuts haven't healed; they're still sore.

"I think she wants to go to class," Matt says, keeping his eyes glued to him.

"I don't give a fuck what she wants." he snaps back at him.

"Let me go," I say. He yanks me past Matt and them. He drags me out the door, down the hall, and towards my math class, the bell hasn't rung yet.

How does he even know I have math next? He lets go of my arm when we reach the class. "What was that about?" I ask once he releases me.

"Don't worry about it." He opens my class door for me. I look at him and roll my eyes before going in.