Chapter Song(s):

Come a Little Closer-Cage the Elephant

Milena
It’s been two weeks and I still haven’t seen Alistair’s son or his daughter, or maybe I just don’t know who it is I’m looking for. It’s not like I’ve seen a picture of them or anything, and the only time I’ve been to Alistair’s home/office was the day that my dad had the meeting with him. I’m not really even sure why I’m looking for them. Perhaps it’s so that I don’t feel like the socially awkward new kid with the southern Kent accent. I went to the store last week for my mum and asked a cashier where the milk was and she looked at me like I was some kind of alien before pointing me in the right direction.

When I grabbed the milk and went to go ring out, I took my pen and sticky notes out of my pocket and wrote the word ‘BITCH’’ on it in capital letters before I stuck it to the front of her cash register counter. I know I’m not from around this part of England and my accent is a little thicker, but she didn’t have to make it so painfully obvious that I’m a bit different.

But maybe I’m doing that myself with the sticky notes?

It’s a quirky thing I’ve picked up recently, two weeks ago to be exact. Since we’ve moved, my mum made it a point to make sure every box was labeled with a sticky note so that we knew what went where and what was what when we got into the new house. She had a bunch left over and I’ve since confiscated them to label people instead. I know it was rude. I guess I’m rude. But if I’m honest, I’m not trying to be. If anything I’m truthful. I don’t believe in sugar coating or anything of that nature. People today are too sensitised by the truth and worried about what people will think and their feelings instead of calling a spade a spade. I’ve come to learn anyway that when a person takes offense to a comment, it’s because you’ve read them like an open book.

Everyone wants to be unknown or anonymous and act like there’s more to them than meets the eye and though that might be true for a select few, other’s are as plain as the daylight.Some are so clear to the naked eye, that they become as transparent as cellophane. But honestly is that really all that bad? Why try to give yourself layer on top of complicated layer all for the sake of mystery, when in all actuality, the so called mystery you’ve built for yourself is as common as they come? Why not allow the world to see you for you; like the girl behind the cash register for example.She had no problem with showing the world that she was a bitch, however, for those whose vision is obscured by her other qualities, I’ve put her best one there for them to read as plain as day.

I’d like to think of myself as a realist in that retrospect, and since I am one for calling things as I see it, I don’t mind talking about myself either. I feel like I’ve been going mad since the move. I’m tired of unpacking. You’d think after two weeks we’d be done, but my mum had things in a storage keep that I had no idea about.

Today is the first day of school for me and I hate it already. Everyone is well established with each other seeing as how it’s the middle of February and school here started in September. I’m sitting here in the car currently with my mother as she makes the drive and I’m already counting down the hours until it’s time to go back home and lock myself away in my room where I won’t have to be bothered. I also hate it because my mum picked out my clothes for me to wear today.

Isn’t that pathetic?

I’ll be fourteen fucking years old in less than a month and my mum still tries to dress me like I’m five. I didn’t go down without a fight though. We argued to the death this morning. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for what she picked. A grey pleated dress, black tights, and patent leather black oxfords, like one of those damned American Girl dolls. It’s cold outside; it’s winter for Christ sakes! I wore the dress and heels for dads meeting, but I didn’t see the point of wearing something similar to be prodded and judged by half the damn school, as if that wasn’t going to happen already being new and sticking out like a sore thumb.

I took a sticky note after our argument and wrote ‘tasteless wench’ on it before I stuck it to her bedroom door. She got really upset and I felt bad afterwards, so I put on the stupid outfit to make her smile. Somehow my mum is the exception to the feelings rule for me, even though I feel she doesn’t like me as much as she should.

Now that I’m standing in front of the school, I really wish I hadn’t worn it.

“Have a good day Milena. I love you and I’ll be here at half three to pick you up.”

I nodded at my mum in embarrassment and quickly turned around, but I didn’t make any moves to go in the building. My mum had since pulled off leaving me standing there. I’m the only one outside. Probably because it’s frigid out at the moment. It doesn’t help that I’m wearing a dress. A gust of wind blows fanning my hair across my face in an annoying way and I take that as my cue to make my way into the building and prepare for judgement day.

I kept my eyes towards the grey sky as I walked in, hoping that it would snow again and when I reached the door pulling it open, my eyes snapped forward and down the hallway.

It wasn’t anything like the movies or those stupid teen novels. Everyone kept about their business and no one stopped what they were doing to see who was coming in. I didn’t have a slow motion moment of walking down the halls with people looking at me in disgust for being new either. I might have gotten a few glances here or there, but only because I had to say ‘pardon’ to make my way past people.

For a top notch prep school this one seems pretty average. I mean I guess, because it’s in an old timey looking building and we have to wear jackets with crests on them as part of a uniform it gives it an ‘get ready for Oxford’ edge but other than that and the stained glass window, the school looked pretty non ivy league prep to me.

I found my locker, they’re pretty big so I guess that’s why this school is so prestige and exclusive? Anyway, I found my locker and put everything away except my rucksack which had all of my books in it. I don’t know where shit is in this place and I don’t want to take the chance of being late to a class because I have to run back and forth to get my books, especially since I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself than necessary.

Especially not in this dress.

By the end of the day, my back feels as if would snap in two and the stares that I received for having the rucksack on all day was anything but desirable, not to mention that it marked me as being new when asked by teachers as to why I still had my damn rucksack.

Half three came by slowly, and my mother came by slower. Its like she told me that she would be here on time to get my hopes up when I know better than to get my hopes up with anything concerning her. She tries to act like she’s such the dainty lady, but I’m sure dainty ladies wear wrist watches and check them when they’re supposed to be on time to pick up their daughters.

I leaned against the window of the double doors by the exit of the school as I waited, looking up at the sky as I did so. The hazy heavens opened up once more and blessed us with snowfall. Snow already began to cover the ground but I was never opposed to having more.

I looked around the hallway walls for a clock, a sundial, or anything that would tell me what time it was and when I found one a blank stare made its way on my face.

A quarter to four.

I’ve been waiting for my mum for fifteen minutes past the time she was supposed to be here to pick me up.

“I’ll be here at half three to get you Milena.” I mumbled to myself.

What a load of shit.

The wool material of the thick ass dress my mum had so ardently chosen for me to wear today began to make me sweat. Not to mention how itchy it makes me. I opened the double doors and stepped outside where other children were being picked up by their more prompt parents allowing the tiny white snowflakes to cool the skin on my arms as I held my coat in my hand.

There was a distant yelling that I could hear next to the building behind me. It wasn’t a joyful playful yelling like you would hear from kids playing in the snow, this yelling was one of an argument. A clear disagreement between two people. I turned from the pavement to go find the source of the noise and when I did, all words had stopped and fists of fury began to be thrown, from one individual anyway.

I stood and watched the entire thing without making a sound. It was almost like watching a horror movie unfold in front of me. I don’t mind horror movies. They usually don’t scare me because everything looks so fake and the blood and gore reminds me of cherry juice or that really cheap red syrup you can buy during Halloween for costumes and parties. The blood I saw now however was very real.

When the fight was over, the boy who’d clearly gotten his ass kicked was pushed against the wall of the building and left there with one final kick to the stomach. He stood up slowly collecting himself and as he did, the blood from his nose dripped onto the white snow beneath him. I turned to walk away. I thought it was over, but clearly I was wrong.

The boy who’d gotten his ass kicked had something in his hand as he stood. The supposed winner of the fight was walking away without a care in the world, or so he thought, until he hit the ground.

I walked over to the boy, who was now laid out in the middle of the field by the school resembling a snow angel when I realized that he was out cold. He had to be at least twenty yards away from the loser, but he still received an accurate clean hit. A rock that was only a bit smaller than a golf ball lie next to the passed out snow angel boy, and the gash on his head that was white at first now ran red. He began to blink and come out of his daze, but before he stood, I took out my sticky notes and wrote ‘TKO’ on one of them before sticking it to the strap of his backpack.

I turned around to look at the one responsible for the knockout and he looked at me with the same blank stare before he turned to walk away, clutching onto his ribs as he did so. When he got close to the front of the school again, a girl approached him,examining him over and shaking her head in disapproval while she talked to him. He spoke to her and then before I knew it, both of their eyes were on me.

I left the boy’s side and began to walk home, away from the glances. As I looked over my shoulder to see if I was still being watched, the boy put up the hood to his parka and I almost ran into a light post when I realized who it was that was looking back at me.

Alistair Styles’ son and possibly his daughter that he spoke of.

I had half a mind to walk up to him, and ask him what the hell was up with him and throwing things but decided it would be best for me to mind my own business instead.

I continued to walk figuring that my mum had forgotten me. I had called her six times already and received no answer. When I was halfway away from the school, the familiar black prius pulled up beside me before it came to a complete stop. I walked up beside it and got in with no hesitation.

“Half three mum? Its nearly an hour later!”

“I’m sorry Milena, I got held up, but I have great news.”

I looked over at my mother and stuck my hands in front of the heat vent as tears filled her eyes and she began to smile. I raised an eyebrow waiting for this news somewhat eager to know what made her so late.

“You’re going to be a big sister Milena. I’m pregnant.”

She choked out a laugh and my eyebrows immediately came together. That wasn’t the news I was expecting to hear.

Notes

First official chapter as promised!!! I hope you all are enjoying it and are baring with me with the slow updates! I will probably update TR every Fanfic Friday if possible. So what do you all think so far?? What's up with the mystery styles and what do you thing of Milena? lol I think I have a new character that will be added to the list soon. I wonder who it will be?? ;) LOVE YOU ALL FOR READING Xx

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