"Bella Winters, do not make me come in there!" My older brother Jedd bangs on my bedroom door which has become a daily routine of his. I cover my exposed face with the warm sheets, sinking back into dreamland.

"Bella!" He warns me through the cracks in the door and I sigh, feeling myself pull deeper away from sleep and merging further into the grim reality of my life. I'm not a morning person . . . At all.

"Leave me alone Jedd!" I murmur sleepily, my voice groggy. I hear him sigh behind the door, his footsteps retreating.

"If you're not up in twenty minutes Bella, I'm breaking down your door!"

"Keep your hair on Grandad, I'm getting up!" I yell in response, throwing my duvet to the side and groaning from the sudden cold that hits my warm sleepy body. I hear Jedd mumble something about difficult teenagers outside my bedroom and I roll my eyes at him. He's twenty, making him three years older than me but acts like the age difference between us is years apart.

I pull down my hair from its ponytail and head to the bathroom, pushing open the door. The strands of my hair cascade down my back, tickling the exposed skin. I rotate my head left and right, relieving the tension from sleeping in one position all night. I reach for my toothbrush, applying some toothpaste before getting to work on my teeth.

My eyes wonder over to the small photo pinned on my bathroom mirror. It's a picture of Jedd, Dad and I taken a few years ago at a summer BBQ. I'm holding a burger in my right hand, Dads arm swung over my shoulders. The smile on my face is the definition of uncomfortable from having my picture taken.

My parents divorced when I was five but truthfully it didn't affect me. My mother and I never seem to get along. She's into dresses, I prefer hoodies. She's into perfect makeup, I like the natural look. She's into long hair extensions and I religiously wear my hair in a ponytail every single day. My mother also loves her heels whereas I love and treasure my converse.

After a quick shower I lazily walk over to my dresser, tugging my hair out of the towel. I begin to blow dry it, glancing in the mirror every so often to make sure I'm getting every strand.

My eyes drift down my nose which is tall, rounded at the end with a button like shape. My lips are slightly fuller and a natural pale pink colour. A few freckles littered across the bridge of my nose and cheeks that I sort of like. I feel uncomfortable. . . out of place when my hair isn't tied in a ponytail. I chew on my bottom lip before grabbing a hair tie and scraping back my hair before securing it in place. Much better. My choice of outfit is pretty much the same every day.

Hoody, denim jeans and good old converse.

It saves time in the morning and most importantly it's the definition of comfort.

What more can a girl possibly want?

I finish off with some deodorant before grabbing my school backpack and heading out the door. I run down the stairs two at a time and hear Jedd's old car rumble to life outside signalling he's ready to go.

"Shoot," I mumble under my breath, bursting through the kitchen door. I dive for the last piece of toast that looks like it's seen better days.

"It'll have to do," I groan, balancing it in my mouth as I sprint down the hallway and outside. I open the passenger door with my free hand, wobbling unsteadily from everything I'm juggling. I slide in, throwing my backpack to the floor beside my feet. Jedd sighs, slapping his palm to his forehead in a dramatic manner.

"Morning sunshine," I say, biting into the toast and grimacing from its texture. I chew slowly, avoiding Jedd's scrutinising glare.

"Bella we have this conversation like every day. You need to start waking up earlier, I can't be late for college anymore." Jedd lectures me, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead as he begins to drive. I swallow the toast in my mouth, feeling slightly guilty.

"Sorry. I was up late studying for my maths exam today." I tell him truthfully. I crammed hours of revision inside my brain and fingers crossed, it's going to pay off.

"Don't stress about it Bells, you always ace your exams." Jedd responds, boosting my confidence. He's partially right, I'm a straight A student and proud of it. I work my bottom off studying every night after school because I have nothing else to do really.

I'm not exactly what you call a . . . social butterfly.

I distance myself from pretty much everyone in school due to simply being socially awkward. I don't have a single friend. The idea of even keeping up friendships causes me to sweat and worry.

What if I say the wrong thing?

What if they decide they don't like me after all and ditch the friendship?

There are way too many risks with having friendships so I avoid everyone. I'm the person that waits in class a little longer so the hallways are empty before I run to catch my next one.

I'm the person that always sits at the back of the class, avoiding eye contact with the teacher the entire lesson. . . I'm sure 90% of the school don't even know my name, teachers included.

I feel the dread inside of me begin to increase the closer we get. Eventually Jedd slows down, pulling up to our regular spot. He turns towards me, giving me a smile.

"Good luck on the exam, remember to breathe." He tells me before reaching over and ruffling my hair. I groan playfully, swatting his hand away and reaching down for my backpack.

"Thanks, I'll see you after school," I smile at him, stepping out of the car. Before I leave, I narrow my eyes at him, pointing in his direction.

"Stay out of trouble." I warn him. Jedd replies the same way he has done for the past four years. It's a daily habit of ours, a special sibling goodbye.

"I'm an angel, you don't have to worry about me. Bye Bells." He waves at me before driving away. I watch his car descend in size until it's impossible to make out anymore. I sigh and turn in the direction of school, bracing myself for six hours of uncomfortable hell. I observe the front, watching as crowds of students spill inside the doors of Heywood High, laughing and chatting.

It takes me a while but I finally pluck up the courage to make my way towards the building. Just another year to go and I'm out of here. In the meantime . . .

Here goes another lonely day to add to the countless others.

I weave my way past the crowds, keeping my eyes trained on the floor. I've practically memorised the route to my locker without having to lift my head up once to check my surroundings. Skills, right?

As quick as a flash, a pair of bright trainers come into view and I stop abruptly to avoid crashing into them.

"Ew, why are you walking like that?" A high pitch voice fills the air causing me to freeze. I glance up nervously and meet eyes with someone I never thought I'd cross paths with. My eyes widen and I begin to stutter incoherent words, already backing away.

No way is this happening to me.

I refuse to believe it.

Its no other than Beatrice Walden.

Beatrice Walden doesn't know the meaning of the word unpopular. Ever since I've known her, she's always been surrounded by her so called friends. She's the mean girl, alpha female, class A bitch of Heywood High. She's also one of the highest members of the Popular's. The social group who walk the corridors thinking they own the entire school. The people who laugh, sneer and joke about their less popular peers.

She reaches up with her hands, running a perfectly manicured nail through her dark locks. Her hair is always curled to perfection, makeup immaculately done alongside it. When she isn't snarling or teasing people, some would dare say Beatrice Walden is pretty.

Her glossy lips curl up as she notices me and she lets out a heavy sigh, almost as if I'm the biggest inconvenience in the world to her right now.

"Can't you watch where you're going? It's not hard, look up!" She says firmly, humour lining her voice. She glares at me from head to toe and I feel myself disappear inside myself. I shrink back against the wall, too stunned to speak. It feels like my tongue is being held hostage, refusing to let me apologise or respond to her.

"Hello? I'm talking to you. What are you. . . mute?" Beatrice mocks me, standing with one knee bent as she glares at me to respond. The girls standing on either side of her narrow their eyes at me, sick smirks on their faces. I can feel the tight hold on my lungs as I struggle to keep myself composed. My palms begin to sweat and I can feel my legs trembling under my weight.

"Does she speak English? Hellooo."

A hand is waved in front of my face and all three of them burst into laughter. It fills the air and bounces off the walls in the corridor and I flinch, my throat tightening until it becomes difficult to breathe. I quickly dodge to the side and force my legs to scurry down the corridor, my head hung low. My cheeks burn with heat and embarrassment and I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

Calm down Bella. It's over now.

The bell rings loudly signalling the start of the school day and I watch as the corridors slowly began to empty, crowds of students disappearing. I reach my locker and rest my back on it, closing my eyes to take a second to breathe.

In, out, breathe. In, out, breathe.

Isn't it weird how something as normal as breathing can suddenly become such a difficult task to do?

The thought of being unable to breathe, your throat tightening further and further until it feels like you're gasping for an ounce of oxygen scares the living crap out of me.

These are the times I wish I had someone who's always there for me. To help me when I need it and to have my back against people like Beatrice Walden. Growing up I wished for a twin sibling to keep me company. The thought of having someone to lean on, talk to, laugh and bond with has my eyes glazing over in fresh tears. Whenever Dad or Jedd question my lack of friends I wave it off and act like it doesn't phase me. The harsh reality of the situation is that I'm so lonely.

I don't know how to overcome that.

*****

"Class, please leave your homework on the desk before you leave, thank you." The teacher instructs before turning back to her laptop. Everyone stands from their seats, the chatter in the room rising quickly. English is finally over and I have sports to get through before the school day comes to an end.

Sports is my least favourite subject.

I for one, have the sport skills of a snail.

I'm uninterested in sports, I'm awkward and I flinch every time a ball heads my way. The majority of my lessons are spent aimlessly day dreaming at the end of the football pitch. Staring up into the sky and seeing what shapes I can make out of the clouds is literally one of my favourite things to do. I love how as each minute passes, the clouds would slowly change shape becoming something totally different.

Sometimes I wish I could do the same. . . change myself in a matter of minutes to suddenly become a popular social girl surrounded with the best of friends.

Maybe fall in love with somebody?

I'm slightly embarrassed to admit that I, Bella Winters, have never had a boyfriend in all of my seventeen years of living. Unless the boy who lived next door to me when I was five counted. He'd held my hand for almost 1.5 seconds before he realised the dating life just wasn't for him.

I sigh quietly, noticing the classroom is empty before I grab my backpack and head for the door.

"Miss Winters?" The teacher stops me and I turn to face her, slightly shocked that she knows my name without having to check her register.

"Yes?" I reply quietly, keeping my eyes glued to the floor. "Your homework please."

I nod my head and silently take my homework out of my bag before placing it on her desk.

I completed it the same day it was handed out.

*****

"Girls, guess what? Ethan asked me out last night! Can you believe it?"

"No way!"

"Oh my gosh, finally!"

"Ethan grew some balls. It's about god damn time."

I clutch my gym bag to my chest, weaving my way through the crowd in the girls changing room. Half of the girls are undressed, parading around in their underwear without a care in the world. The conversation in the locker rooms always gives me a headache if I listen too long which isn't a surprise considering all the girls ever talk about is boys.

The latest discussion is Ethan and Melissa.

Ethan has been crushing on Melissa, the girls captain of the football team for months before he'd finally asked her out. Apparently their first date is going to be at Melissa's pool party she's hosting on the weekend.

That doesn't sound like much of a date to me . . .

I'm a hopeless romantic who spends endless hours watching stereotypical love movies on Netflix. Every single time a couple split, I blubber like a baby even though I predict it happening from the start. My ice cream or popcorn bowl always ended up mingling with my tears. . . Gross.

My idea of a first date would be something intimate yet simple. A chance for both of you to get to know each other without the presence of several others.

Somewhere quiet and romantic?

A restaurant maybe.

But then there's always the worry of eating like a starved pig in front of your crush.

I finally reach the toilet cubicles and enter the free one, locking the door behind me. This is where I change every lesson. It's small, cramped and smelly but it's out of sight and I'd choose that any day over everyone seeing my SpongeBob SquarePants underwear. I'm ashamed to admit I also have the matching bra on.

I quickly change into my gym clothes, a bright red shirt with the words HEYWOOD HIGH printed on the back in block white letters. I opted for the size that was two sizes bigger as showing what little shape I have to my body doesn't appeal to me.

Underneath I'm wearing red and white stripe shorts completed with white socks and my trusty old converse. The entire school basically looks like the human version of Where's Waldo in our gym clothes.

"Girls, line up please!" Mrs Hollins yells loudly, attempting to grab the attention of the class. Everyone lazily walks over to her, continuing with their conversations. Mrs Hollins let out an annoyed breath, rolling her eyes. I watch as she raises the whistle to her lips before blowing into it. The shrill of the whistle catches me by surprise and I wince, covering my ears with my hands.

"Girls, I want you in line now!" Mrs Hollins screams, stomping her foot down onto the grass in a childish manner. She craved the students attention and respect by acting laid back however times like this proved she's the complete opposite.

Eventually a line is formed and I join the end of it, keeping my distance from the two girls giggling on the end. Mrs Hollins eyes drift up and down each student before they land on me.

"You!" She points at me, causing my heart rate to speed up. I hold my hand up half heartedly, looking incredibly awkward. She gives me a slight frown before continuing —

"Go get the class footballs, hurry up."

She throws the gym keys at me and they land in a heap on the floor in front of my feet. I simply look down at them and stare.

"You were supposed to catch them," Mrs Hollins sighs, shaking her head. I bite my cheek hard, bending down to retrieve the keys.

"Didn't you know? She's mute," Beatrice's voice fills the silence and several people burst out laughing. My cheeks burn with embarrassment and I resist making eye contact. I clutch the keys tightly, feeling the cold metal dig inside my palm before turning and heading for the equipment room where the footballs are stored.

"Quieten down class!"

My footsteps speed up and I close my eyes, breathing in slowly and breathing out. Finally I reach the equipment room and try the first key inside the lock, no luck. There's around ten different keys and I glance down at them before sighing heavily. It takes me a while to find the right one but when I do, I smile and pull back the door before stepping inside. The room is dark with no light beside from the natural sun peeking through the slither in the door. It doesn't do much to help me see.

"Shoot," I mutter holding out my hands in front of me to stop myself falling. I can barely make out any shapes in here so what hope do I have in finding the footballs?

"Would you like some help?"

A voice startles me from behind and I miss my footing as I stand on something hard which causes me to lurch forward. I yell out as I connect with the floor, landing painfully on my side. I wince and feel around, grabbing a metal pole from underneath me that's poking into my back. Pain flares up my body and I clench my jaw, the frustration beginning to increase.

"Stupid idiot of a teacher!" I curse Mrs Hollins, blinking back the tears in my eyes from the sudden pain.

"Are you okay?" A deep voice cuts in and I immediately freeze realising that I'm not alone.

"Hello?"

The voice calls out again. I can vaguely make out his outline, tall with broad shoulders.

"Hello," I let out a small squeak, my voice timid. I hear him walk towards me, the shadow of his outstretched hand inches away from my face. I stare at it, feeling a blush creep up my neck and cheek.

"Take my hand, I don't bite."

I nod in the dark before realising he probably can't see me nod. Urgh Bella Winters, you idiot. My small hand reaches out uneasily until it meets with his and I feel his fingers close around mine tightly, pulling me up using gentle force. I wince, groaning a little from the pain flaring up my side.

"Are you hurt?" He asks me, his voice low yet raspy. He sounds like he's just woken from a nap and every time he speaks, my nerves increase.

"Y-yes, I mean no I didn't, it doesn't matter." I whisper, my voice shaking. I haven't spoken this many words all day and it feels weird. I notice how he hasn't let go of my hand even though I'm firmly steady on my feet. My palms began to grow clammy so I quickly pry it away from his grip before he can notice.

"You don't sound so sure but okay."

"Thank you," I say quietly, not daring to look up at his face even though I probably couldn't make it out in the dark anyway.

"No problem. Try leaving the door open a little to let the light shine in." Mystery Boy chuckles quietly, his laughter causing goosebumps to skim down my arms.

"That p-probably would have been easier." I respond, laughing along nervously.

"I'm guessing you're from Mrs Hollins class?" He asks me, handing over the dreaded bag of footballs. I take them from him, clutching them against my chest.

"Yes I am, thank you."

A moment of silence passes between us before he clears his throat. I can vaguely make out his shadow moving further away from me and towards the door.

"See you around, Clumsy."

His words hold a smile behind them which causes the corners of my lips to tug upwards. I briefly catch a glimpse of the back of him as the door opens.

Dark hair and broad shoulders.

Once I'm alone, I breathe out deeply, my nerves settling back down to the surface. A simple interaction causes me to sweat with nerves and worry. As I leave the equipment room, I search the area to find out the identity of Mystery Boy but it's too late . . . he's already gone.

I blow out forcefully, trying to move a strand of hair that's loose from my ponytail. Carrying the bag of footballs is probably the most exercise I've done in a year.

"Speed it up Winters!" Mrs Hollins yells, her irritating voice floating through the air. I roll my eyes knowing that she can't see me from the distance between us.

"Speed it up Winters! Do this Winters!" I mutter to myself, mimicking Mrs Hollins. I give up attempting to carry the bag and instead throw it down onto the ground before dragging it from the handle. I'm not exactly the tallest or strongest girl in my gym class.

I drag the bag until it's next to Mrs Hollins and take my place back in line. She begins to lecture the girls on a football tournament so I zone out, ignoring her. My thoughts turn back to Mystery Boy and I turn slightly, peeking at the boys class who are practicing across the field from us.

From this distance, I can't make out anything beside their hair colour. More than half of the boys running around have dark hair - fail. I sigh heavily, giving up and turning back around to face Mrs Hollins who's low key glaring at me from the side.

"Winters! You're on Beatrice's team," she yells over to me and I immediately feel my lungs tighten and my breathing shallow out. I remain rooted to the spot, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Winters, move now!" Coach Hollins yells over at me, blowing her whistle in order to snap me out of my little daze. I immediately scurry over to Beatrice's team who are all glaring at me. If looks could kill, I'd be buried 6 feet under right now.

Beatrice's hand lurches out, gripping onto my elbow tightly and I stop, frozen to the spot. The skin contact with her makes my stomach turn with nausea. She leans in until I can feel her hot breath fanning against my ear as she speaks.

"Stay out of my way, mute."

Her tone is threatening, low and vicious.

My eyes widen and I nod, letting her know I understand. Beatrice releases my elbow and I cradle it to my chest before scurrying away from her. I stand behind the group, out of sight. The familiar feeling of my lungs tightening fills my chest and I close my eyes, forcing myself to calm down. I can't have a panic attack . . .

Not now. Not here.

I don't understand why Beatrice and her friends are giving me such a hard time for simply bumping into them. That's the sad thing about bullies, they don't need an excuse. They prey on the vulnerable, the timid and I'm unfortunately one of the easiest targets.

I glance up to find Beatrice and her friend glaring at me from under their long lashes. Beatrice's eyes spark with humour as she notices the fear in my eyes. I take a step back and she lets out a choked laugh before raising her finger and sliding it across her throat. Her friend watches me recoil from them in horror and begins to fall around laughing, kneeled over at my reaction.

I feel my stomach tighten in multiple knots and the one piece of toast I ate threatens to find it's way back up. I turn away from them, tears pricking the back of my eyes. I hate showing my vulnerability to people like Beatrice but I can't help it. I want to be strong but how does one stand up-to someone like Beatrice Walden?

An idea springs to mind and I quickly clutch my stomach, trying my best to act like I'm in excruciating pain. I limp over to Coach Hollins, my face scrunched up in false pain.

"Mrs Hollins? I don't feel so good," I groan, squeezing my eyes shut and wishing she'd give me a free period or send me to the nurse.

"What's wrong Winters?" Coach Hollins sighs, I open my eyes, giving her my best pained expression.

"I feel sick, really sick." I respond quietly which isn't a total lie thanks to Beatrice and her friends. Coach Hollins observes me carefully, her eyes drifting up and down my body.

"You seem fine to me."

"I really don't feel good Coach," I groan louder, clutching my stomach tightly. I take a slight peek at her expression but she doesn't look convinced at all.

This is it Bella. . . desperate times lead to desperate measures.

"I get really bad period pain. If I don't lie down, I end up bleeding everywhere. It's like a crime scene from a horror movie." I exaggerate. A look of horror flashes over her face and she actually takes a step away from me as if my period is contagious. I mentally roll my eyes at her . . . Why is a period freaking her out so much?

"Oh, I really don't feel good." I emphasise, kneeling over. Mrs Hollins finally holds her hand up, eyeing me warily.

"Alright fine, pack up and go home Winters."

A grimace flashes across her face and she turns and walks over to the class. I mentally fist bump the air and can't help my lips from tugging up into a victorious smile.

Great acting skills Bella, the period card is actually genius.

As I'm walking off the pitch, my eyes connect with Beatrice's cold stare. I feel goosebumps scatter across my arms and I shudder from the icy look that flashes through them. She doesn't break the stare so in an act of bravery, I lift my arm up and give her a little wave. Her face flashes with surprise and before she can retaliate, I turn around and walk straight off the pitch.

That's 1 point for Bella.