Chapter 2

Sam didn't care about her suspension but, of course, her father would. Of all the great dads in the world she had to be stick with the one that always seemed to screw up her life. The clock on the wall read 10:37. 'Great,' she thought sarcastically to herself, 'fourth hour math.'

At locker 113 she spun the dial to the number 15 then 13 and the last number 2. With that she opened her locker, grabbed her ten-pound math book, her red notebook and folder, and the only writing utensil she hadn't lost. Making sure her diary was safely tucked away under a sweatshirt she closed the blue, metal locker and headed to class slowly. "Sam you're late," Mrs. Peterson's crabby voice rang through the silent room as she screeched at Sam.

"What else is new," Sam mumbled and slouched, deep down into her desk. About thirty minuets into learning how to multiply negative integers by positive integers her mind began to wonder. It thought about her father, Luke, how Luke had cheated on her, used her like a toy, how her father was responsible for her mother's death, every thought that entered her head just fed the roaring fire of anger and hatred inside of her.

"You okay?" asked a boy sitting next to her. He looked tall, tan, dark-haired, green eyed, and confident.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" she snapped back.

"Sorry, you just seemed upset is all." The boy replied.

"It's non of your business how I feel!"

"Ok, ok don't get mad I was just seeing what was wrong. Is there a problem with caring about a… a…" His voice trailed off.

"With a what?" Sam asked, annoyed that she was having a good time taking to this boy.

"Well with a... beautiful girl like you… I just wondered if everything was okay." His face turned downcast.

"You… you think I'm beautiful?" she interrogated.

"Of course I do… Don't you think you're beautiful?"

"I… No."

"Really? Don't you see how breath-taking you are?"

"No, because I'm not breath-taking! I'm an ugly beast! I need to pay attention!" The rest of class was dull. Waves of anger kept washing over Sam as she continued to think about Luke, her dad, her dead mom whom she never met, and how the boy said she was beautiful. It angered her that someone cared about her. She wasn't ready for another relationship after the way the last one ended. Digging through the lost and found bin on the floor near her desk she found a pair of razor sharp, black scissors. She took them in one trembling hand and began to cut.