Maybe if I keep my mind blank, I can prevent the inevitable. I try it for the first 10 minutes till I realize how stupid I sound. There wasn't really any love or nostalgia held for that apartment since I'd only been there about 6 months. Really I'm surprised I lasted at this school so long. It usually takes a much shorter time for both me and the principal to snap. This school was finally at their last straw with me. They'd given me multiple chances and of course, I'd blown them all. This was really the only high school in this area and my aunt decided we needed a fresh start in a new state.

It wasn't something I cared about much. I know I'll be out of this one soon enough. I think I'm nomadic at this point. I peek into the rearview mirror and see Mr. Branshaw in the moving truck. He's helping us move and Aunt Christine thinks he's just a very kind and giving man, driving it for free and all, but I suspect he's only doing it in hopes of her finally loving him back. It's kinda sad how she doesn't see his thinly veiled feelings for her.

Christine looks back at me, a cheery smile plastered on her face. "Are you excited, Jax?" she said, her big eyes widening even more. "This'll be a really nice area for us! I've heard your new high school is wonderful and this will be one of the nicest homes we've had in a while."

Home wasn't exactly a way to say it. More like temporary replacement. "Mhmm," I respond, turning my baseball-capped head back to the car window.

"Oh come on! Think positive, Jax. It's a whole new place with plenty of opportunities!"

Plenty of opportunities for me to just screw up again, I retort silently.

I'm sure all the students back there are thrilled I'm gone. I mean I did put a girl in the hospital. I didn't regret it then, I don't now, and I know I never will. She deserves every bit of pain I gave her. I struggle to block out that dreadful girl but I still remember.

I was sitting on the bleachers since I had nothing to do during gym and I was writing a poem I was hoping to turn into a new song. She was showing off in front of all the boys and her girlfriends. She also wore super lowcut shirts practically every day to tease all the boys, even in gym class. I could see her "tying her shoelaces" for the hundredth time, her unsubtle way of showing off her extreme overkill cleavage and of course all the brainless boys drooled over her.

She also talked down to people to build up her own ego and popularity (I mean that, plus showing her boobs at every possible moment). I looked up from my writing for a few seconds to find her giving me a malicious sneer. I knew too well what that meant: I was her next victim. It started off with her making stupid jokes about me and how I got expelled all the time. I chose to ignore her "whispering" to her friends. That's when she overstepped the boundaries. She made a joke about my parents' death and that's when I finally flipped my shit. I went to her so fast I wasn't even aware I was moving.

First, I punched her hard in her perfect little nose, breaking it. Then, I shattered her kneecap by kicking it with all the force I had held in my body. We ended up tangled on the grass, a mess of flailing limbs, hair, and dirt. Long story, short, I won't be coming back anytime soon.

I'm assuming this new school will be exactly like every other one.

I shoved my earbuds in to try and block out the memories biting at my mind.

A couple of hours later, Christine announces that we're here. I take out my earbuds and observe my surroundings. The grass is the greenest I've ever seen and there's even a garden. I think my aunt put that into account when she decided to rent this place. I actually take a lot of comfort in gardens and when I'm in them everything bad just falls away and everything's peaceful for a while. She knows gardening is something I actually really like, but I wouldn't admit to it ever. It's actually a really sweet thing of her to do. Christine is sweet, caring, and wonderful and though we may be related I'm still nothing like her.

In front of us is a small two-story home. I kind of like it, it's quaint. It's also hidden in a culdesac with lots of trees shading it.

The inside was just as nice, although there were a few things that needed to be fixed. My room was just the right size and the bed felt so comfy and welcoming. It all felt so homey and I know I'll be sad to leave it when it's time.

For dinner, Christine, Mr. Branshaw, and I ate microwave mac 'n' cheese at the round wooden table. We eventually said goodnight to him after everything was settled. I think my aunt could tell I liked the house, though I didn't say anything and she cracked a tiny secret smile. I hugged her and headed up to my new room for the night.

For a while, I just stare at the unfamiliar blank walls. I finally pull up the covers and drift off into an uneasy sleep.

✩ ✩ ✩

Shouting and crashes jerk me out of sleep and I nearly fall out of bed. I put on my glasses, confused and angry at the same time and shove the heavy covers away. I cross the space between the bed and the window since all the clamor is coming from outside and open the blinds. The house next door has their front door open, light flooding onto the ground, chasing the darkness away. A man stands in the doorway, something in his hand. A bottle. Obviously drunk. A boy stands a few feet away, his mouth opening and closing with a frustrated expression, and though I can hear his loud angry voice, the sound is muffled by the windows. I'm not about to open my windows to listen to what a strange boy is yelling in the middle of the night, especially when they could see it opening, so instead, I just watch.

The boy is tall, a few inches taller than me except he looks a bit less awkward than I do, unlike me being so skinny and lanky. I could tell he had a natural elegance to him. It was hard to distinguish any other features. It was like trying to understand a blurry photograph taken of a painting. The man stalks back into his house and slams the door, leaving the yard in inky darkness again. A streetlight shines dimly so I can hardly see the boy now. A few moments pass and all I hear is my lack of breath. My chest had stopped moving and I didn't even notice.

I look away from everything and press my back against the window and remember my breathing exercises my doctor taught me. In 4 counts, out 7... in 4 counts out 7... She always reminded me to do that when I had a panic attack or got too angry. Sometimes I forget to breathe, which sounds weird but it's an actual problem for me. My anger issues control so much of my life I often wonder if one day Christine will leave me alone and I'll be completely abandoned. Truly, she was the one thing I still had in my life.

My breathing was slowing and becoming deeper and I turned back to watch. He was now sitting on the grass and looking up into the sky. I looked up too, without thinking. I couldn't see his facial expression but his body posture relaxed just slightly when his gaze turned to the stars. I'm not sure which to look at, the stars or the boy. Both fascinated me.

Flame appears and I recognize that he's lighting a cigarette. Smoke drifts lazily through the air. That's when I catch his eyes. His eyes were vibrant blue morning glories, somehow cutting straight through the darkness, glaring. I caught them quickly through the darkness, and something pulled in my chest and my head felt light. But as quickly as we caught each others' eyes, as soon as the moment started it ended and I snapped the blinds shut. I got in bed and pulled the covers over myself again so fast that my speed even surprised me. God, please tell me that didn't happen, I pray silently.

Soon enough I fall into the only thing I'm really familiar with: sleep... but my thoughts are filled with things like blue morning glories.

A/N thank you so much for reading my new story :)) leave a comment if you enjoyed it, i'm planning on updating every other tuesday 💘