Rosie!"

Rosie opened her eyes and groaned as she heard the irritating sound of her sister's fist on her bedroom door for the thousandth time that morning. She turned around in her bed and pulled the covers up over her head, trying to block out the pounding noise. Who knew a thirteen-year-old could hit a door so hard and for so frickin' long?

"Get your lazy, stupid, fat ass out of bed already! It's nearly time for school!"

She burrowed closer into the warmth of her bed. There was no way she was leaving without a fight. She did not want to go to that hell-hole they called a school.

"Rosie! Amy screeched, followed by another, wood rattling bang on her bedroom door. "Mum's leaving in five. A good daughter, like myself, would wish her good luck!"

"Okay!" Rosie yelled back, defeated. She threw the covers from her body and rose up from her bed. Already mourning the loss of it, she walked over to the mirror above her dresser and ran a paddle brush through her elbow-length hair. Rosie sighed at the state of the bird’s nest resting on her head, but had no choice but to accept it and and added a thin layer of mascara to her long lashes and a layer of lip balm to her lips. She reached down to the duffel bag lay on the floor and pulled on a pair of blue skinny jeans and an ordinary, fitting black top. Grabbing her school bag and hopping around to pull on her converse, she headed downstairs.

She caught mum a second before she unlocked the front door of their new house. "Mum, wait."

Mum turned around and gave her a quick, loving hug. "Good morning, honey. You all ready for school?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Rosie sighed. She was determined not to think about it until she actually stepped through the rusty iron school gates.

Mum smiled, apparently amused at her attitude. "You'll be fine, I'm sure of it. It's only school, not a haunted house or whatever else it is you find so scary." She laughed at Rosie's stubborn expression. "I really have to go now, Hun. Being late won't look good on a first day, now will it?"

"Wait a sec."

Mum’s retreating form hesitated.

"Good luck today."

Mum's eyes become moist with unshed tears. "Thank you. It means a lot to have your support."

Mum was a baker and today was going to work a cafe somewhere in the small, deserted English town of Lakeside. It was her first day at a job in a long time. She hadn't worked a day since Rosie had been born about sixteen years ago as her father was a very successful businessman who could handle all the bills, and more. Sadly, their marriage hadn't been so fortunate or they would still be together with a million pound investment in the bank. But no, because her husband had been unfaithful. Countless times. Dad just hadn't been so clever about it the last time, so when mum found out, divorce had seemed the only safe option for everyone.

Rosie wanted nothing more than to be back home in Central London with her family full and content. But however much she wanted that to happen, she knew it never would. Things would never be the same again, and she was going to have to deal with that. She'd vowed she would suck it up and move on. Start again in this new place and forget about all the drama.

"No problem," she said half-heartedly. "I love you, mum."

Mum wiped the emotion from her eyes and kissed Rosie's cheek. "I love you too, honey. See you later."

Rosie walked into the kitchen and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from last night's baking. She needed it.

Amy smirked as she ate her bowl of cereal.

"What?"

"Are you trying to get fat?"

Rosie shrugged and threw a bottle of chilled water and a fresh green apple in her schoolbag for later. Amy retrieved her BlackBerry from the kitchen table and checked the time. "Right, we've got about fifteen minutes to get to school. Awesome, I can't wait!" Amy clapped her hands together and got up from the table. When Rosie glanced at her, she nearly choked on her cookie. Oh god... Rosie's mouth dropped open.

"What the hell do you think you're wearing?" She raised her eyebrows and stared Amy down when she stood there silently. Rosie shook her head as her mind filled with the image of her sister’s denim, extra short, short shorts and hot pink crop top with matching high wedges. "There is no way mum would let you go to school dressed like that."

Amy ignored her and scoffed at Rosie's own clothes. "Like you can judge," she muttered.

Rosie rolled her eyes. "At least your hair looks nice. And, you know, like you're not trying to win whore of the year." Amy's long, chestnut hair looked curled to perfection. It was almost the same shade as her own, but a couple of tones lighter and had a few more hints of red. They also shared the same dark eyes.

Amy twirled a lock of shiny hair around her index finger. She picked up her schoolbag with her spare hand and slung it over her shoulder. "Thanks... I think. Anyway, let's go." Amy smiled slyly. "I know how much you're looking forward to school today."

Time to face it, she thought grimly as they headed out the door.

Rosie had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she walked through the gates of Lakeside Secondary School and through the glaring crowds of students with Amy by her side. The weather matched the atmosphere of the school exactly with the dark clouds and hostile, chilly wind. The courtyard was bigger than Rosie had imagined it. Chipped, wooden benches stood on a boring grey, concrete ground. A group of pretty girls and a couple of flirty guys surrounded it, chatting aimlessly. Bushy, tall tree's surrounded the perimeter of the school, casting a murky, dark shadow in the corners that send icy shivers down Rosie's spine.

She caught the gaze of one of the blonde, flirty, good-looking guys standing by one of the benches. The edges of his lips curled up and his hand was doing something else... Rosie pulled her gaze away as she realised what gesture he was making at them. She felt her cheeks burn, and was positive she was an unflattering shade of red. I can't do this. Her breathing quickened as all around her people laughed.

She stopped and tried to ignore all the sets of eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. Turning to Amy, she said, "Okay." Rosie took a calming breath. "You have everything? Your timetable?"

Amy nodded and continued to cast grins around the courtyard. She seemed to be thriving off the extra attention. Rosie rolled her eyes and asked, "Why aren't you nervous?"

Amy winked at a passing group of cute, year nine boys. They looked her up and down and nodded, whistling and hooting as they joined another group of kids their age. "You have to learn to love the attention, sis."

Rosie shook her head. “Anyway, good luck.”

Amy turned and flashed a stuck-up smile Rosie’s way, and stated, “I don’t need any luck. Everyone is going to love me and you know it.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll be instantly popular. What a better way to make a name for yourself than dressing like the school slut.” Rosie’s voice sounded dry. She seriously hated it when Amy acted like this; like she didn’t care about anything. “Have fun.”

Amy flipped her off and went to approach a group of skimpily dressed girls her own age.

Rosie sighed and pulled out her timetable. It read:

Period One – English Room Two – Mr D Johnson.

She looked hopelessly around the courtyard for anyone who might be in her year, which was year eleven, who looked even remotely friendly. After a few minutes of staring around at the faces of hundreds of sour-looking students; she finally settled on a girl standing by herself, reading a book. She was petite and very pretty with wavy, glossy black hair about three inches past her shoulders. The girl wore a figure hugging, dark blue button-up top that matched the shade of her eyes and a pair of black skinny jeans with tie-up boots.

Rosie stopped beside her and gave her the friendliest smile she could. “Hey.”

The girl closed her book and looked up at Rosie. She smiled and her face looked soft and kind. Rosie felt herself let out a relieved breath. “Hi.”

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but would you mind showing me where English Two is?”

“Sure. I have that class first too.” Rosie just smiled, not knowing what else to say. Luckily, this girl seemed to be a lot more of a conversationalist than she was. “Do you want me to check over your timetable and see what other classes we might have together?”

“Oh, sure. Thanks.” Rosie handed the laminated card over.

She read the card strangely fast, and then handed it back with a happy grin on her face. “Yeah, you’re with me in most classes. Stick with me and I’ll show you around. No need to worry.”

“Thank you,” Rosie said, grateful.

“No problem, Rosie.”

“Wait, how do you know my name?” Rosie thought she saw a flash of worry go across the girl’s face, but it seemed to go just as quickly.

“Oh, you’re the new girl. They said in assembly last week. Everyone knows your name.” When Rosie kept staring at her she shifted and scratched her arm.

“Oh...” She shook her head, suddenly feeling very dumb. “Of course, yeah. I’m sorry... Um, what’s your name?”

The girl stuck out her hand and introduced herself, “I’m Amber Fenty.”

The gesture seemed very formal to her, but she took Amber’s hand and shook it anyway. She got a weird feeling, like an electric shock when she touched her hand. It sparked in Rosie’s fingers and ran all the way up her arm, leaving it numb and tingling afterwards. They both flinched back and Amber’s eyes widened. “Must be static,” Rosie suggested.

“Yeah,” Amber agreed, but Rosie couldn’t help but notice the waver in her voice.

She decided to ignore it; not wanting to seem rude or scare her away. So she smiled and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Amber.”

In English Rosie took a seat at the back of the large, table-filled room beside Amber, and tried not to be noticed when Mr Johnson, a very tall, old, broad and intimidating man strolled grumpily into the classroom.

He looked around the room with a stare so cold it seemed to freeze the whole class as suddenly chatter disappeared and everyone’s eyes glued to the man. “Good morning, class. I hope you’re all awake this morning,” he said in a low, gruff voice. “Now, I’m told we have a new student today.”

Rosie felt herself sink involuntarily in the plastic blue chair. Mr Johnson checked a note on his desk and then called out, “Rosie? Miss Rosie Parker?”

“Here.” She stuck her hand up shyly, and felt her checks redden again as every student in the room focused their beady gazes on her. Everyone but Amber that was. When she glanced across at Amber, she seemed far, far away. Rosie silently wished she could be.

“Welcome to the class, Rosie,” Mr Johnson said, oddly bitter.

                                                             

At lunch Rosie sat with Amber. Again it was at the back of the room where not many students were sitting. The lunch hall was brightly lit by multiple overhead lights spread across the vast room, and had crowds of people all over the cheap-looking, scratched tables, chatting and giggling away. Some tables had more people than others. She labelled the larger ones as the popular tables. She saw Amy had already vacated at the biggest one.

When she’d finished looking at the clearly cheap decor of peeling and food stained, white paint and a dirty, scratched, light wooden floor, she saw that Amber still had that far away look in her eyes. She’d been ignoring it all morning through the boring classes of maths and science, but now Rosie was beginning to think there might be something wrong.

“Hey, Amber,” she said trying to catch the girl’s attention. After several attempts the weird girl still didn’t reply. Well this is rude, Rosie thought as she started to rise as silently and discreetly as she could from her plastic chair.

“Wait!” Amber said suddenly. “Don’t go.”

Rosie sat back down and glanced at her through squinting eyes. “What’s the matter with you anyway?”

“Nothing,” Amber said quickly. Too quickly to be believed, she thought and glanced at Amber again, which she just seemed to ignore as she zoned out; staring at the far left wall.

It took a moment for Rosie to speak again until she decided to ignore the girl’s strangeness. “Okay then.”

“So, why did you move here?” Amber asked and brought her attention back to the present, leaving wherever she’d been behind without a second thought.

Rosie was taken off guard by the unexpected question. “Um, excuse me?”

“Why did you move here?” Amber repeated with a frown.

“Oh...um... My mum fancied a change of scenery,” she lied and took a bite into her fresh green apple, hoping Amber would drop the subject.

Amber raised her small black eyebrows, and said, “Yeah, right. So, why did you really move here?”

“You know, it’s not really any of your...”

“Hey,” Amber interrupted softly. “I just want to know, and I thought we could be friends.”

Rosie gave her a tiny smile. “Yes, okay, of course we can. We moved here because my dad cheated on my mum, and after the divorce she wanted nothing more to do with him. So she packed me and my little sister up and moved us all the way out here.”

“Oh.” Amber’s voice got as low as a whisper as she processed the information. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It was really none of my business.”

Rosie shrugged it off and took a swig from her water bottle.

“Do you still see your dad?”

Rosie sighed and fiddled with the top from her bottle, rolling it around on the table and refusing to meet Amber’s eyes. Just thinking about what she thought about her dad now or seeing him gave her a headache. She’d spent countless nights missing him, and then hating him. “No, not really,” she said.

“Do you still want to see him?”

She thought Amber asked a lot of personal questions, but she kept answering them anyway. “I don’t know. Sometimes I really miss and love him, but sometimes, I just...I just hate him so much I...”

Amber put a gentle hand over Rosie’s, preventing her hand from rolling the bottle top again. Rosie couldn’t help but notice that shock again. It’s so weird, she thought, but again, tried to ignore it. Amber didn’t seem to have noticed it this time. Rosie assumed she was probably just going crazy anyway.

“It’s okay. Count yourself lucky you still have a Dad, Rosie.” Amber’s eyes teared up, and Rosie couldn’t help but feel like the most awful person in the world.

“Oh, Amber... I’m so sorry.” Rosie handed her a clean tissue from her bag.

“Thanks,” Amber said, taking the tissue gratefully and wiping her damp eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot sometimes.”

“You’re not.”

Amber smiled, and then bounced up and hugged her. It took Rosie by surprise, but before she knew it she was up off the chair hugging the girl and rubbing her back in comfort, like they’d been friends forever.

“Thank you,” Amber mumbled and pulled back. “Come on; let me show you where D.T is.”

                                                                 

Rosie walked the half-mile home with Amy, who had apparently had a very good day.