Chapter 1

                                    

                                          
Get out of my way, dyke!
We don't want you here, cutter!
Mooo! You fucking cow!
Kill yourself, Fatty!
The notes and crumpled pages fall out of my locker as my classmates laugh. How unoriginal. You'd imagine after three years of this bullshit they would at least find new ways to try and get a rise out of me. I simply move the hate-filled papers aside and place my books in my locker where they belong. I mean really, it's the first day of our senior year of high school, who has time for this shit. 
I bend down and grab one of the pages from the floor and spit my gum in it before dropping it with the pile and walking towards my first class. The snickers surrounding me dull under the sound of my boots slapping the ground. It's no fun when the person you're trying to make fun of gives you nothing to work with. I know that, that's why I'm such a bitch. 
These people act like I'm the scum of the Earth just because I'm fat and I wear black. That, and the fact that I'm on their precious football team. Who cares if I'm a girl, at least I'm good. Better than most of the boys on the team. But no, just because I have tits I'm suddenly the devil. Walking through these halls comes with whispers, stares, comments, and disgust. But there's oddly this sense of fear. Fear because I'm tall and decently made of muscle, underneath the never ending layers of fat of course. It's well established that I am strong, girl or otherwise. So behind every comment and remark, I can feel the fear that I'll do something about it. I won't, of course, I hate violence and fighting. But they don't need to know that. I can handle myself perfectly fine, but that doesn't mean it doesn't suck. 
I check my schedule one more time to make sure I'm in the right place before I walk in my first hour, Calculus. I'm pretty sure it's an AP or dual credit or something but I forgot. I'm in a bunch of classes that are college classes. I've been taking AP classes since freshman year with one goal in mind, graduate high school and college as fast as I can. The sooner my parents don't have to pay for my education, the sooner I'm gone forever. Then they'll never see me again. I would get a job to become financially independent now, but my mother said it would "tarnish our good family name," or some other bullshit like that. With how many credits I have, I'll be able to graduate college in three years, maybe two if I play my cards right. 
Mr. Hartwell pulls me out of my thoughts by greeting me as I walk into his class. As always, I choose a spot in the back corner by the window where nobody looks. Usually, people will forget I'm in their class because I work so hard to stay in the shadows. It's just easier. I don't want to get in the way of learning and I don't need them getting in my way.
 My friend Hannah walks in the door and smiles as she spots me. She starts making her way towards me, ducking her head as she walks through the aisles. Hannah Nahm has been one of my best friends since middle school. I remember she was a loner, sitting quietly in every class and eating by herself at lunch while she would read some crazy thick book. One day my friend group decided to bug her until she finally gave up and became our friend. The rest is history. 
Hannah has always been devoted to her studies to say the least. Her parents push her towards perfection, and I know she will never admit it, but the pressure is too much for her. I've always tried my best to make sure she takes a break every now and then, but you know how it is. 
"Hey Maya! Let me see your schedule." Hannah greets me in her quiet voice, while her thin eyes close with a smile. We tend to take a lot of the same classes because we're both in honors and AP classes. I quickly pull my schedule out of my planner and hand it over to Hannah. Her brows furrow, "This sucks. We only have 2 classes together. Why are you taking a bunch of stupid classes like Drama and Foods?" Her skinny arms crossing over her tiny body. I can't help but think how nice it would be to look like that. I quickly shake those thoughts out of my head, it'll never happen. Hannah is 5'3 and skinny as a stick. I'm nothing like that. I'm basically four of her.