14

                                    

                                          
༻ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖'𝕤 ℙ𝕆𝕍: ༺
I jumped into the shower with a yelp. The hot water was out again and the bathroom window was broken and wedged open, allowing a flurry of snowflakes inside. Overnight, snow had blanketed the town and was still falling fairly heavily now. A part of me was grateful that Matt was picking me up as, between my ice-cold shower and the long, chilly walk to school, I was certain I'd get sick. 
My teeth chattered as I quickly washed my body, keeping my hair pinned back for today. I couldn't stand under this water for a moment longer than necessary to worry about shampooing my hair. Fortunately, I'd washed it yesterday morning because, judging by the weather forecast, it was only going to get colder and I was sure the pipes would freeze.
It took me less than a minute before I was darting back out of the shower and wrapping a towel around me. It didn't nothing to warm my skin, not with the draft blowing through the open window. I dabbed at the droplets on my skin and then stuffed my legs into my leggings, not caring that they were still a bit wet. Next, I stuffed my feet into a thick pair of socks I'd been gifted for Christmas. I sighed at the relief when I put my foot back on the floor and didn't experience the sharp bite of the cold tile. Finally, I threw on the same cream jumper I'd been wearing all week and left the bathroom.
My mom was stood in the kitchen, clutching a bag to her side. "I was just leaving," she whispered. He wasn't here but still, we whispered, as if the walls of the apartment were listening to our conversation. We always whispered. My mom was going to work for a few hours. There was a small, run down diner on the outskirts of town that had hired her as a waitress a few months ago. It was a bit of a walk for her but the distance meant that the manager didn't run in the same circle as my dad and therefore didn't know about his rules. 
He'd made sure we would always rely on him, ensuring my mother wouldn't be hired anywhere in town and couldn't make her own money. She wasn't qualified for anything anyway but he hadn't wanted to risk her saving up money and running from him. He couldn't lose his punching bags. 
But now, she snuck off for a few hours in the day while he was gone and he was none the wiser. It was a risk, a huge risk, and the reward was fairly slim. The manager of the diner was a sleazebag who refused to pay her well because of her lack of experience and he knew she was desperate and would accept anything. I hated that people treated us like this, because of our backgrounds, our address, our scruffy clothes. People were quicker to look down their noses at us and kick us down rather than help us.
 "Aren't you going to be late? You're usually gone by now."
My mothers voice pulled me back to the kitchen where she stood in the doorway with a frown. I nodded my head, avoiding her eyes as I moved to make a glass of water. "I'm getting a lift to school."
She stared back at me. "You are? From who?"
My stomach clenched and I turned slowly, avoiding her eyes as I mumbled "Matt. He offered to pick me up."
"Matt?" 
Her brows creased before they shot up. "As in Matteo? Sternato?" 
I reluctantly nodded my head. "Rose, what were you thinking? Why would he coming here to pick you up before school?!"
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at the clear liquid in my glass. "He asked about my face," I muttered, gesturing to the gash although she knew exactly what I was talking about. The horror in her eyes increased ten-fold and when she opened her mouth to yell, I quickly cut her off. "I didn't tell him anything, I swear. I mean, I told him that I got jumped because I don't live in the best area..." I bit my lip, "so now he's picking me up so it doesn't happen again."