I grab my bag and rush down the hallway. It's closing in on me. I burst out of the door and slam it shut behind me.
Droplets fall to the ground at my feet. The screams are still audible as I walk down to the end of the road. My parents want to throw me out. Apparently I can fend for myself now.
What do they think I've been doing for the past 10 years? Ever since I was 7, I've had to learn how to cook, wash clothes and do everything to survive on my own.
I fiercely dry my cheeks and walk with determination to school.
* * * * *
This is it. First lesson of the day. All I've got to do is keep my head down until the bell goes at the end of the day.
I make my way hastily to the back of the room and grab the empty table. I dump my bag. Bending over, I pull out the books I need for this lesson. As I get back up, I take note the teacher has walked in. The room has settled and all eyes are on one spot.
There's a new girl. It sounds like her name's Ada, Ada Knowles.
I watch with anger as she takes the only available seat in the room - next to me. There's something different about her. She's determined not to show emotion. She's blanking the world - like me.
She's not from round here, she's been on a plane to get here (she's got jet-lag). She raises a hand to scrape some falling hair out of her face. Guilt is hiding in those eccentric blue eyes of hers. Guilt from an argument.
Her lips are slightly parted, her eyes focusing on something in her hand. She blinks, hard, and before I know it, she's looking at me. All I can do is sit and gaze.
"Hi. I'm Ada. What's your name?"
"Evan." I say quietly. "Evan Brough."