The chav girl. The loud mouth. The one teachers are always shouting at. Fine by me. It’s easier than letting people see the truth. Then Mason Carter—the loudest, cockiest boy in school—starts looking at me like I’m more than the rumours. He was supposed to be another pain in my arse. Instead, he might just change everything.
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@ruby_boo3012The September air hits me as I push through the main gates, thick with the smell of damp concrete and whatever cheap body spray the Year 9s have bathed in. Someone’s already kicked a football against the science block wall. A teacher—Mr. Davies, the geography bloke who’s been here since the 90s—gives me a look that slides right off my shoulders.
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