I stared at the boring, white ceiling as I laid down on my bed. My phone was thrown off to the side carelessly, only a few centimeters away from the edge. It was still early in the afternoon, the numbers on the digital clock barely reaching one o'clock. Danielle had called me before lunch break ended, asking for the juicy details just like the gossiper she was. She was the sort of girl who loved to spread information around and be on top of the latest news. How could I be friends with a person like her was beyond me, not that it was a bad thing.
Leaving the comforts of my bed, I dragged my feet over to my drawers and pulled out some track pants, a sports bra, and a track jacket to combine with the pants. I made my way over to the bathroom across the hall, taking my sweet time under the warm shower as I washed away today's events. The fluffiness of my blue towel engulfed my body once I stepped out of the shower and dried myself with it, putting on my clothes and ruffling my hair with my fingers right after.
I threw the dirty clothes inside the laundry basket and walked outside the bathroom while bringing the zipper of my jacket up to my chest. Faint noise was heard from downstairs as I walked back inside my bedroom and pulled on some socks and my running shoes. I rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh before trotting down the steps and going into the kitchen. My hand reached for the handle of the fridge, pulling the door open and grabbing a water bottle before closing it back up. The sound of footsteps was heard approaching the kitchen, and I braced myself for whatever was going to be thrown my way.
"So, I heard you got suspended again," a gruff voice spoke.
I placed the water bottle on the counter beside the sink and turned around to face my stepfather. "And?" I asked nonchalantly, bringing my arms up and crossing them over my chest.
"You should stop bringing trouble to your mother, work stresses her enough."
"Like you care." I scoffed.
His eyes narrowed at this, obviously not handling the disrespect. "You should watch your mouth, Amelia. We both know damn well what happens when you disrespect me," he warned, pointing an accusing finger my way.
"And we both know damn well that I don't care. I speak to you however I wish. Just because you're dating my mother doesn't mean I should respect you," I snarled and grabbed my water bottle before turning my back on him and heading to the garage. "Oh, and if you don't know, respect is something you have to earn."
"And where do you think you're going?" he bellowed once I reached the door.
Before I opened it to step inside the garage, I sent him a glare over my shoulder. "It's none of your business." With that, I walked forward and closed the door behind me.
His voice drowned out as I approached my ride. A smile graced my lips while my fingers caressed the leather seat of my motorcycle. With a small tug, I pulled it up and reached inside the small compartment to grab my helmet and keys. I instantly threw the helmet on and closed the compartment back down, hopping on the seat and turning the ignition on before driving off.
I didn't miss the way my name was called faintly from the background. It was easy to ignore thanks to the revving of the engine and the wind slapping against the visor of my helmet. I drove down the familiar streets for five minutes before slowing down and parking in front of one of my favorite places to clear my mind. The soft roaring of the engine was cut short as I took the key out of the ignition and hopped off the motorcycle in a swift movement. I couldn't help the smile that graced my lips once I took my helmet off and walked inside the building.
The cold air of the air conditioning hit my face when I stepped past the automatic sliding doors. A familiar face lined in my field of vision as I approached the counter, and the person smirked once he took notice of me.
"What could you have done this time to be here in the middle of a school day?" Wesley asked while giving me a fist bump and taking the helmet from me.
"I pretty much got suspended, again," I replied sheepishly.
"So, what was it? Did one of your pranks go too far again?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Nah. I just kicked some butt for a good reason." I laughed, and he shook his head in amusement.
"Well, consider yourself lucky." He chuckled then pointed to something over my shoulder. "The punching bag is all yours."
I instantly smiled at this and made a short victory dance before grabbing a piece of rag and bandages from Wesley's outstretched hand. I thanked him with a big smile and jogged over to where the punching bag was, passing some sweaty bodies either running on a treadmill or lifting weights. Once I made it to the spot, I shrugged my jacket off and placed it down on a bench with the water bottle I brought from my house and rag. I wrapped the bandages around my hands and wrists safely before taking five minutes to stretch.
The punching bag hung steadily in front of me, begging me to make it rattle and swing back and forth. I allowed the tension to leave my body as I focused mainly on the solid object, closing my hands into fists and positioning my body diagonally, finally delivering the first strike. I spent the next twenty minutes following the same pattern of kicks and punches, not once faltering. My breathing came out ragged, sweat starting to roll down my forehead and neck. I decided to take a small break considering that my muscles already ached, and my throat begged desperately for water.
Twisting the cap of the water bottle open, I downed half the bottle in two large gulps. I wiped away some of the sweat with the rag and closed the water bottle. My eyes caught sight of an unoccupied treadmill and I decided to give it a go for some minutes. I walked to it and pressed down on the buttons, starting it off at a low speed. My feet moved along with the belt, walking at first before increasing the pace to a jog, followed by full-on running after a minute. I controlled my breathing the best I could, inhaling through the nose and exhaling through the mouth.
My calves started burning after five minutes, and I let out a satisfied smile at the familiar feeling. My moment didn't last long, however, as a hand appeared over the buttons and stopped the treadmill. I opened my mouth to protest, immediately glaring at the person as I slowed back down to a walk before stopping completely.
"I had a feeling you would be here." The person glared right back at me.
"Now, why would you interrupt me in the middle of a run?" I rolled my eyes.
"You got me suspended for an entire week!" Gregory seethed in anger and irritation.
"Correction." I crossed my arms. "You got yourself suspended, I just helped you with it. Besides, what could a boy like him have possibly done to you to treat him like that?"
"Don't judge a person just by their innocent looks, Amy," he warned. I just glared at him and scoffed, looking past him to see Wesley walking over to us. When he reached us, he placed a hand on Gregory's shoulder and eyed him warily before kindly asking him to leave. Gregory just shrugged him off and pointed an accusing finger my way. "This isn't over." With that, he turned around and stormed off the gym.
Wesley raised an eyebrow at this as I mockingly shook in fear while watching Gregory's retreating figure. I chuckled and went back to the treadmill, settling for a walk this time.
"Let me guess. That's the person you beat up today?" Wesley asked with a smirk.
"Hey, I did him a favor there," I mused.
"A broken nose sure fits him." He snickered and shook his head. "You really are something, Lily."
I just laughed as he walked away, leaving me alone to continue on the treadmill. Once I felt that I've worked my calves enough already, I stopped the treadmill and made my way to the bench. My phone flashed with a new text message, and I picked it up to look at it while wiping my sweat away. I instantly rolled my eyes when Kenneth's name popped up, asking for a ride since his car apparently broke down in the parking lot.
I downed what was left of the water and wiped the sweat that was left on my torso before putting my jacket back on. I texted him a short reply and threw the phone inside one of the pockets, also throwing the empty bottle and dirty rag in a nearby trash can.
Wesley handed me back my helmet and keys once he saw me making my way out and I bid my goodbye. I didn't waste any time snapping my helmet on and jumping on my ride, speeding off once the engine roared to life.
The journey to the school grounds didn't take more than ten minutes. Students already walked around the parking lot. When people walked in front of me, I revved my engine on purpose to hear them shriek as they moved out of the way. It was safe to say that a group of girls didn't find this amusing. I, on the other hand, found it extremely hilarious to see them scurry away in shock.
I parked somewhere close to the gates and killed the engine, hanging the helmet on the left handle grip and swinging a leg over the seat to get off. Boys acknowledged me as they walked by, either congratulating me on beating a jock or telling me how good my prank to Mr. Orwell was. I just chuckled at them and waved them off, not really caring about their praises.
"I never thought you were this popular," a familiar voice spoke, making me snap my head to the side. Brown eyes widened as I made eye contact with them, and I smirked. "I mean, that's not a bad thing...I guess. I just never thought you would be this popular and—damn that sounds like an insult, but I don't mean to insult you, you know—"
"Relax." I laughed. "I'm not going to eat you, Chase."
"Sorry," he mumbled, blushing after I interrupted his rambling.
"No worries, people get nervous all the time," I reassured him, and he only gave me a sheepish smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of Kenneth's voice calling my name cut him off. We both looked at a very enthusiastic eighteen-year-old boy jogging over to us, and Chase scratched the back of his head.
"I should get going," he said quickly and scurried off.
Kenneth furrowed his brows in curiosity, his gaze shifting between Chase's retreating body and me. I just waved him off and handed him the helmet, adjusting my hair in a tight bun, and hopping back on the seat. Kenneth adjusted the straps on the helmet and snapped it on before jumping in behind me.
"I hope you don't send me to my death, Lily," he said from my back, and I brought the engine to life. I smirked at this, revved the engine loudly, and twisted the handle while clutching the brakes. The back tire screeched, and he yelped, holding onto my shoulders tightly as I let go of the brakes and the motorcycle jerked forward. "Amelia!"