Chapter Two - Not So Peaceful Day 
Since I don't have friends, I spend the whole weekend to myself sleeping. And by sleeping, I meant waking up at 10 in the late morning.
So I was startled when the door bursts open and my eyes  flicker open with a stinging sensation. I barely squint my eyes, trying to make a view of what was going on.
   My mother just grins like the evil mastermind she is and heads straight to the windows, opening them and letting the cool breeze get into my room.
She acts so casually, as if she didn't just wake me up at this damn early morning--which I hated with a passion.
  I hiss like a vampire who saw the sunlight, trying to adjust my eyes from the beam of the sun. "What are you doing?"
I glanced over the clock that was placed on my nightstand. My eyes widen and I sputter. "It's six o' clock! Why did you wake me up at six in the morning?!"
As you can tell, I'm not a morning person. Mom just rests her hands on her hips and sways it, then gives me a look. "Wash your face and get up. Someone's waiting downstairs."
My eyebrows furrow, causing lines to form on my temple. "Who's waiting?"
If I remember, I had like no friends---cross off John Keats the poet and some "odd looking" dolls--which my mother comments to her own horror, often commenting that it might come to posses me one day. Well, I'd be glad if it did.
"Tom," she replied, a malicious grin spreads on her lips. I could just about tell what she was planning ahead. And no, I'm not going to fall in love with him, mother---if that's what you're imagining.
"Him?" I say casually, then laid my head back in bed and pulled the duvet closer to my face. "--well, I'm going back to sleep."
I whined when my duvet gets snatched away and I'm left with coldness. I hiss and flutter my eyes open, giving my mother a glare. "We're not friends. He's no one to me."
   "If he's got something to say, then relay his message to me, okay?"
"Oh Avery," she chimes in. "--this is your chance to make a friend."
I groaned, exasperated that I have to explain the same thing again to her. Friends are too overrated, I tell you. "I don't need friends. I have these babies to keep me company," I point to my dolls--which all looked unique and creepy in their own way.
She scrunches her face at me, showing a little bit of her wrinkles. She crosses her arms and huffs. "You're talking about your horror imaginary friends. That's why you don't have friends; you creep them out so just engage with Tom at least once will you?"
"That was rather nice of you, mom," I say sarcastically. "--I though mothers were supposed to sugarcoat their words. I guess not."
My mother then grabs my hand and tries to pry me out of bed. I wail and held onto the mattress for as long as I could hold onto it. Don't you dare give up on me bed! We're allies, aren't we?
"You're being unreasonable, Avery!" my mother grunts, obviously having a hard time pulling me out of bed.
"No I'm not, you are," I fight back, not losing to my mother as I grip on the mattress like I was going to die in the battlefield if I didn't. But then she pulls out a trick that I couldn't say no.
"I'll cut your allowance. That way you won't buy your cult stuff," she taunted and I let out a frustrated scream--more like a cry of a banshee before I let go of the mattress and let my mother drag me like a sack of potatoes.
This is why I hate my mother---not really hate, but still. I mean she's clearly taking advantage of me, taunting me and it's working all too well. She knows I'm powerless under her dictatorial authority. Someone has to overthrow her someday.
She grins, obviously enjoying in tormenting me. "Now wash your face and meet Tom with the biggest smile you could possibly ever muster, okay?"
. . .
After I was finished with washing my face, I head down the stairs to my demise and found the guy casually sitting down, then his eyes perk up and met mine.
He smiles and I huff as I come close to him.
"Good morning, Avery," he says, his smile never wavering. "---you seem to be in a very good mood today."
I frown at him. "Why are you here?"
I thought he would at least be taken aback by my hostility but his smile is still transparent to his face and it irks me off with a passion. "Your mother told me you were going to accompany me."
"Huh?"
  What did my mother tell him? I looked up and see my mother motioning me to follow along, mouthing "no allowance." I glanced back at this guy and look at him indifferently  "Right. Give me a damn minute."
I begrudgingly head up the stairs--again, gave my mother one last glare and slammed the door so loudly that would make her know I was pissed.
I opened my closet and picked the first outfit my eyes bored into.
Why should I dress up for him anyway? I picked up a grey t-shirt, my signature navy green beret, followed by denim pants and some Converse. I finish my outfit by putting on a black hoodie, zipping it up to the farthest it could be and flung the door open.
My mother eyed me from head to toe with distaste. She judges my choice of outfit everyday--I'm used to it. "You gotta wear something girlish Avery."
I raised my brow at her, letting her know that I didn't take part in any of her stupid ideas. "I'm not going on a date with him. What's the matter with wearing the usual?"
She props a hand under her chin, thinking deeply as she stares at me like I was a messy puzzle. "I mean you look like you're going to a funeral with your outfit and your scary gaze."
"That's exactly my plan," and I head down as I watch Tom--whatever his name is, glanced at me and grinned like the idiot he was.
   "You coming or not?" I gruffly ask when he still remained sitting down.
"So where are we going, Avery?" he asks once we walked out of the house.
I shoved my hands under my pocket and grumble like the old man I was. "How about you tell me?"
   "You invited me didn't you? Take the responsibility will you?"
I really hate guys like him. They're the worst. At least shady. I mean, how does he remain so unfazed when I'm literally being a bitch to him? Either he's got something up his sleeve or he's got the patience of a saint.
"Avery?" he waved his hands in front of me and I snapped out of my bubble, realizing that I was standing still with him a few steps ahead.
I look at him and cleared my throat. "What?"
"How about we go to the park?" he perks up, his eyes twinkling in delight. "--ooh I love parks!"
I grumble, not having a choice. "I guess."
The walk to the park was silent but I didn't care. If he was uncomfortable with the silence, then it's his problem. He knew not to mess with me but he still persists anyway.  He will literally gain nothing from befriending me and yet he still wants to try.
   Is he a masochist? Is that why he doesn't mind my vulgar words?
"The weather sure is nice," he says with delight while he took a seat on one of the benches.
  I just stood there and looked at him. He glances at me and smiles, patting down the empty seat next to him.  I silently sat down, making some space for the both of us.
Then I crossed my arms and stared at the same park like nothing had changed.
"How about we get to know each other?" he suggests after a long silence.
I merely shrug, not wanting to put too much effort on it.
    "So, how old are you, Avery?" he inquired, paddling his foot back and forth like a child.
   "Sixteen."
  "Hobbies?"
"I love collecting horror stuff," I briefly mutter, glazing my eyes at my own shoes which was a little muddy and needed some wash.
"How about you ask me?" he perks up and I look at him.
I don't really give a crap about who he is or what he wants and I literally have nothing to ask from him---except maybe one thing.
"Do you really like to smile that much?"
The idiot replied with a grin. "Isn't smiling normal?"
"Not to that extent," I narrow my eyes at him. "---are you sure you're not some robot or something?"
He chuckles. "Am not. Unless maybe I am? If I was a robot then I might have---"
"Alright, stop!" I cut him off, placing my hand in front of his face. "----I get it. You're not a robot."
"You're a fake."
"A fake?"
"Yeah," I gruff. "---you're one of those guys that have hidden sadistic personalities but pretend to be nice and perfect."
"That's kinda rude," he lightly replied. "----I don't know what made you think that way but I surely don't have any sadistic tendencies."
"Well sorry," I half-heartedly replied, rolling my eyes sarcastically.
"It's easy to smile you know?" he peered at me, bending his torso slightly with his hands clamp on the bench for support. "---they say you use more muscles in frowning than smiling and I personally think people would approach you if you smiled at all."
I snickered, huffing as I crossed my arms on my chest. "Are you saying I look hideous?"
"No!" he hollered, eyes slightly widened. "---what I meant to say is that you smile."
"There's no reason to smile at people who don't deserve it," I spat, jolting my feet to the ground.
"You're too negative, Avery," he commented.
"Not everyone is bad."
What he said made my anger boil that I clenched my fingers and my lips pursed into a scowl. What does he know about me? He doesn't know what I've been through; what I've experienced!
So how dare he judge me and think that smiling will solve every sadness and pain I've went through!
"Well I'm sorry if life has been generous and kind to you!" I couldn't help but raise my voice, unable to contain my own anger from seeping. "---you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through and what I feel."
I know I was being petty and placing all my bottled anger on him but I couldn't stop myself.
  All these frustrating thoughts that I've kept to the back of my mind, curled off my tongue like I was spatting venom.
I clamped my mouth shut, looking away with a stoic face whilst I clutch on my own sleeves. I saw with own my eyes how taken aback he was, how his eyes widened and how he shifted uneasy on his own seat.
  It's his fault. He shouldn't have asked in the first place; he shouldn't have said anything.
  I get it. I'm unlikable--that I'm a douchebag but what?
"I'm sorry."
I stiffened, then I heaved a sigh. "Don't apologize idiot! You're making me more off an ass when you do that."
"What should I do then?"
"Leave me alone," I murmur, staring holes onto the pebble that laid in front of my own shoes. "---just don't talk to me. I'm a jerk and I will hurt your feelings if you get close to me."
"Then hurt my feelings."
"I hate guys like you," I seethe. "---you hear that? I don't like you! Leave me alone!"
I pushed myself off the bench and kicked the pebble with fury that it bounced off for a few seconds before it stopped.
Then I turned to look at him. "Do yourself a favour, will you?"