The two girls walked out of the run-down four story apartment complex, and into the bitter Autumn weather. Their breaths could be seen as clouds in the air as they walked down along the vacant street.
A gust of wind hit them face-on, causing a shiver to run down both girls’ spines. Wrenn pulled her leather jacket over her chest. She was glad that she decided to take it with her, as it mostly protected her from the cold.
“So, how far can ya go with that thing on?” The redhead questioned, referring to the tracker wrapped around Wrenn’s ankle.
Wrenn stared down at her ankle that was bearing the tracker, which was covered by her jeans, and shrugged. “’Bout a few miles… Can’t go outside city limits.”
“Shitty deal!” The redhead started, shaking her head “All tha good parties are outta town.”
With a sigh, Wrenn nodded. “Yeah… This thing’s got me monitored like a fuckin’ child!”
“Aye… How longs it on fer, again?”
Wrenn kicked a lonesome can out of her way as she walked down the street, stuffing her hands into her jeans pockets. “A year...” She muttered, her head down.
“Damn!” The redhead exclaimed, shaking her head. “You went an’ got yerself into some serious shit, didn’t ya?”
Wrenn ignored the other girl and kept her head down, quickening her walking pace slightly.
The girl’s were on their way to school. It was the second month into 12th grade, and Wrenn was just starting school; even though she should have graduated already.
But because of spending six months in prison, Wrenn was unable to graduate the year before, and missed the first month of this school year. Not like she actually went to school much the previous year, anyway. But this year she had to. It was a part of the agreement her parole officer made with the court.
”Here’s the deal, kid. You go to school EVERY day. None of that skipping bullshit. And your grades better be damn good.” The woman snarled, her face was less than a foot from Wrenn’s, and her breath reeked of cigarettes, and onions from the sandwich she just finished eating. “We gotta show the court that you’re a good kid, y’hear? You’ll be goin’ to Martial Arts classes. Somethin’ about makin’ you able to control that little temper you got there. And the third agreement is pretty simple… Keep your ass outta trouble! That ain’t too hard now, is it?”
Wrenn pulled back from the woman, desperate for some breathable air. “I can try. There won’t be any guarantees.” She jeered, testing the waters.
“Don’t get smart with me, kid. I got your ass outta prison, I can just as easily put it back.” The woman spat back. She was completely serious.
Wrenn and her red haired companion reached the school grounds just as the bell sounded, signaling the start of classes. They both lived an hour’s walk from the school grounds, in the worst part of town. Buses didn’t even venture that far, so they were forced to use their own two feet to transport them to their place of learning.
They quickly made their way to their classes, venturing in opposite directions once they got inside. Wrenn had English, her best subject, and Chels had Math, her worst.
Wrenn smiled to herself, glad that she had the one class she loved the most first thing in the morning. Finally, something was going right. This was her first day of 12th grade, and she wanted to make the best of this year. She was intelligent, and she knew it.
“I’ll pass this year with flying colors, and surprise the Hell outta my bitch of a parole officer, and the courts.” She thought to herself as she entered the classroom, a large grin playing on her face.
She took a seat in the back corner of the classroom, adjacent to a window, and slung her feet up onto her desk. She crossed her arms over her chest, the grin still holding strong onto her lips. Just because she was going to get good grades, didn’t mean she was going to be a goody-two-shoes.
The way she sat told everyone that she wasn’t one to fuck with, and the grin exaggerated that fact even more. She reeked of intimidation, a fact that she was proud of. No one dared to mess with her, and she liked it that way.
Across the classroom, she heard a group of girls whispering – more like shouting – rumors about herself. Her grin broadened. They knew about her.
“I heard she shot a guy because he spilled a drink on her at a bar…” One of the girls said, looking around her circle of friends.
“Well, I heard that she stabbed a guy because he wouldn’t sleep with her.” Another piped in.
“No way! I heard she’s a dyke! Got kicked out of her house, and her girlfriend left her. Then she shot a guy.”
Wrenn’s heart dropped, along with her cocky grin. The last one held some truth.