“Get the fuck out of the car.”

I flinch, swinging my eyes over to her. She inhales, her cigarette between her lips and she raises her eyebrow when I don’t move.

My thumb runs over the scar on my wrist.

“Get the fuck out, Alina.”

I swallow, grab my bag and get out of the car. I don’t say anything, not even a goodbye. The hatred in mother’s eyes has gotten worse over the last few months. It tears me apart.

But I don’t blame her. It was my fault. I killed them. She has every right to be mad at me. To hate me.

Hell, even I hate myself.

She speeds away, blasting her music as I turn to face my new school. Mother couldn’t live in our old house, and I couldn’t either. When she announced one random Saturday morning that we would be moving across the country, I didn’t object.

It’s a fresh start.

No one knows me here, no one knows what I’ve lost.

I run my thumb over my scar again, and force myself to walk into the front office. The AC blasts into me and I wrap my arms around myself as I approach the desk.

“Hi,” I whisper.

The lady behind the desk holds up a finger as she finishes typing something out. “What can I help you with, my dear?”

I look over her shoulder to the motivational posters hung up behind her. They sour my stomach, and I blink away the tears. “I’m a transfer student.”

Her face lights up. “Oh. Alina? Alina Hanson?”

I nod.

“I have everything ready for you here. Your schedule, event and sports information, along with prices for lunch items and such.”

She places a folder in front of me and I offer her a thank you as I take it. I look at my schedule, twisting my lips together as I look at the classroom numbers.

“There’s a campus map in there for you, as well.”

I’m about to say thank you again when a deep, panty dropping voice drawls, “Good morning, Cheryl.”

I look to the door, spotting the person that just spoke and my mouth dries immediately. I blink, turning back to look at the counter as if it is the most interesting thing in the world.

The lady behind the desk looks up, her eyes beaming as she looks at him. “Aiden Matthews, late again today?”

I don’t dare look up as he stands beside me, warmth radiating from him. “You know our game was really intense last night, didn’t get home until 2am.”

Cheryl blushes. Literally blushes at the high schooler before her. I press my lips together, attempting to hold back my judgement.

“Oh. I know, I was there last night. You really pulled through in the last quarter. You saved us.” She rests her chin on her hands and I twist my lips together.

Aiden chuckles beside me. “That’s my signature move, Cheryl.”

“Well, I do need word from your father that your tardiness is okay.”

“Oh come on Cheryl,” He leans over the counter, and I catch sight of his sandy brown hair. “He just left for the city. He’ll be there a few days. You know what a busy man he is, I would hate to bother him for such a trivial thing.”