Bella's POV:
"What does that bitch want now?" I thought to myself as I sighed heavily and tied up my combat boots. "MOM, I'M GETTING READY FOR SCHOOL!" I called out to her. "YOU DON'T WANT ME TO BE LATE ON MY FIRST DAY OF SENIOR CLASSES, DO YOU?"
Although my nineteenth birthday was just three weeks away, I hadn't graduated high school yet much to my rebellious ways and lack of interest in learning. All I wanted to do was race bike professionally like my dad.
My dad was my hero. He was a professional bike racer and was considered one of the best in America. Sadly, he died when I was just thirteen years old after crashing into a wall while going a hundred and sixty miles per hour. My life seemed to go downhill ever since. Not only did my mom start slapping me around and start drinking, on more than one occasion, she actually blamed me for my dad dying. I never did understand why.
"BELLA! BELLA!" She called out again just as I grabbed my leather jacket off my bed and headed downstairs. "BELLA! I'm GOING... I'm going out now and I just wanted to wish you good luck on your first day of Senior Classes," She said as I reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Drunk again, Mom? Jesus fucking Christ, it's not even eight o'clock yet," I responded as I quickly walked past her and entered the kitchen. "Who are you gonna meet up with this time?"
"YOU WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH WHEN YOU TALK TO ME!" My mom yelled as she followed me into the kitchen. "IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS WHO I SEE WHEN I GO OUT!"
"Yeah, Mom, it is my business," I said as I poured myself a glass of Orange Juice. "One of these days someone's gonna find you dead in a ditch somewhere... And then what, huh? What am I supposed to fucking do if something..."
* SLAP! *
Before I knew it, my mom's hand connected with my face, knocking my head to one side, sending the glass of Orange Juice flying across the kitchen.
"Look what you made me do," My mom says as she put her hand over her mouth and started crying. That's what she always did after she slapped me. "Do you know everything I do just to put food on the table and clothes on your back?"
Everything or everyone," I replied, prompting my mom to raise her hand to hit me again. "Not this time, bitch," I said as I grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm down by her side. "You've hit me enough for one day. I'm outta here. I hope you're gone when I get the fuck home from school."
Refusing to let my mom see my cry, I grabbed my motorcycle helmet as I stormed out of the kitchen and made my way through the living room and out through the front door. Go figure, it was just starting to rain as I sat on my Yamaha Bolt Cruiser. It was the only thing my dad left me in his will. Well, that and a half a million dollars in a trust fund. Unfortunately for me, I couldn't access that until I graduated from high school. I guess you can say that was enough motivation for me to finally commit to graduating so I could get as far away from my bitch of a mother as I could.
I was halfway to school when I stopped at a red light. Just as it turned red again, some high maintenance bitch driving a red Ford Mustang with a ragtop flew right by me, right through a huge puddle, splashing water all me. I was already soaked from head to toe because of the rain and now this. Could you blame me for kicking my bike into overdrive and chasing her? I would've caught up with her too if a stupid cab driver hadn't cut me off.
I arrived at school and found a parking spot before finally making my way inside. The jocks were in a huddle on the stairs already talking about their first football game of the season. The rich stuck-up girls were standing beside their lockers checking their makeup in some mirror they probably bought for half price at Walmart. It was truly sickening how.
After I got my schedule from the main office, I made my way to my assigned locker and dropped off my helmet before making my way to my first class of the day.
"English language with Mr. Blackwell," I said, walking up the hallway, as I glanced at my schedule. "This day just keeps getting... What the..."
I felt myself bringing up solid into something or, better yet, someone.
"I'm so sorry," a blonde woman said as she squatted down and picked up the pile of papers she dropped when she walked into me. "Are you ok?"
"It's you," I said as I glared down into her piercing blue eyes. "You're the one driving the Mustang who soaked me from head to toe when you flew by me earlier. First time driving daddy's car, was it?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about but if I splashed you, I'm terribly sorry," She replied as she slowly stood up and smiled at me. "However, I assure you, it's not daddy's car."
"It might be your car but I bet you bought it with daddy's money," I replied, bumping her with my shoulder, as I walked by. "Stupid bitch," I thought to myself as I made my way down the hallway.
After making my way upstairs and locating my first class, I took a seat right next to the window. I briefly looked around as the classroom began quickly filling up. Being nineteen-years-old, I was one of the oldest if not the oldest student in the entire Senior class which means I'd already spent the last two or three years with most of the students in my class.
"This is gonna be a long-ass year," I mumbled to myself as I turned and stared back out through the window at the falling rain. "I swear to fucking God if Mr. Blackwell calls on me..."
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to English Language," A familiar voice said, shaking me to my core after the classroom door slammed shut. "For those of you wondering, my name is Miss Newman. I believe I've had the privilege of meeting at least one of you already," She said with a little sarcasm in her voice.
My heart began racing faster than I usually did on my bike as I turned my head and saw her standing there. The crazy bitch in the Ford Mustang was Miss Newman and Miss Newman was my English Language teacher. I swear I felt the colour leaving my face as we made eye contact.
Miss Newman was about 5'5" tall and along with her piercing blue eyes, she had the curliest blonde hair I'd ever seen in my life. She had a skinny waist, curvy hips, and sexy smooth legs showing under her knee-length grey skirt. If her angelic voice and body weren't enough to get my attention, the shape of her seemingly perfectly shaped breasts under her sleeveless turtleneck sweater absolutely were.
I watched Miss Newman's every movement as she walked around the class and although her lips were moving, I had no earthly idea what she was saying. I guess she must've sensed too because she got my full attention whether I wanted to give it to her or not.
"I asked you a question, young lady," She said in a stern voice, standing directly in front of my desk, staring down at me. "What is your name"?
"Why don't you look on the attention sheet and find out," I replied, getting a lot of oohs and awes from the class. Apparently, that was the wrong answer.
"I could do that," Miss Newman said as she cleared her throat. "Or you could just tell me before I give you after school detention."
"That won't be necessary," I said, feeling embarrassed now, sighing heavily. "My member is Bella... Bella Clark."
"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Miss Newman asked. "Well, Bella Newman, see me after class."
"What?" I blurted out. "I told you what my name was."
"You're right. You told me your name and now you've got after school detention." Miss Newman said, sarcastically smiling again before leaning over my desk. "I bought it with my money, not daddy's money," She silently mouthed to me before standing up straight again.
There wasn't a hole deep enough for me to crawl in to hide how embarrassed I was. The entire class was staring at me, Miss Newman made a fool out of me, and I was shaking like a leaf. As the bell rang, everyone started piling out, including me.
"Bella Clark," Miss Newman called out to me again. "I'll expect you back here at 3:10 this evening. If you fail to show up, you get a big fat zero average and fail my class. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, perfectly clear," I replied as I turned around and faced her. "I'll be here at 3:10," I assured her.
As I turned and made my way out of Miss Newman's class, my heart was beating out of my chest again. I couldn't believe she embarrassed me in front of the entire class. I couldn't believe I actually let her do it and get away with it. I couldn't believe how incredibly hot she was. 3:10 couldn't come fast enough.
ns 18.68.41.147da2
