New School. New Friends. New Problems.

Author's Note: I am very aware that this story does not go with the prompt, I just wanted to get this submitted. Want to know why? Because this is the start of my novel! Give me hard, critical critique. Some compliments are okay, but mostly critique. Please. And thanks for reading!

Introduction

I was never normal. People whispered behind my back, called me names. If they only knew I heard those whispers. Most of the bullies who whispered behind my back were the ones who were insecure, and took joy in making others feel more insecure. Even though I didn’t show it, these people hurt my feelings. They made me feel like I was lower than them. Like I was just some scum on the floor that they had the liberty to kick at it, rub it the wrong way. Like I wasn’t human.

In my mind, I attempted to think that these people were all just playing this huge prank on me, and someday they would stop and say that they truly liked me, and that they wanted to be friends. But in my heart, I knew that it wasn’t a prank. I knew that these people didn’t like me. In fact, they hated me.

A funny word, that is, hate. You can tell your mother that you hate her, but you know you love her. You can tell your best friend that you hate them, but tomorrow you’ll be closer than ever. You can tell your siblings that you hate them, but you know that you’ll always be there for each other. But then it comes to me and the other people. Those other people, they truly hate me. They hate me with all of their heart.

But, for whatever reason, when I had to leave those other people, I didn’t want to.

Chapter 1

“Liv! Breakfast is ready! Noah! Breakfast!” Dad called.

I slid my Pura Vida wave ring on, straightened my shirt, and tightened my ponytail before walking out of my room, and into the hallway that led to the stairs. When I walked into the hallway, I was met with the sad sight of my younger brother Noah in his pajamas with bed-head hair.

“Noah, you know Dad isn’t going to let you go downstairs where people could see you from outside on a day like this, dressed like that. Go back in your room, change, comb out your hair, then try to come down, you Oompa Loompa.” I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms as Noah looked at me with a dumbfounded look on his face. Despite that, he turned around and walked back into his bedroom.

With a look of triumph on my face, I walked downstairs and to the dining table. My mom was already sitting at the table, and my dad was in the process of cooking breakfast. I sat down across from my mom, who was devouring an omelet.

“Good morning, Mom. Hey, Dad. Oh, that smells good.” Raising my body from my chair a bit, I looked at the breakfast display. A smile played on my lips at the thought of a homemade breakfast.

“Yup. Special occasion, special food.” Dad placed two plates of waffles and omelets at the center of the table with a smile, and I pounced on it. As I shoved a piece of the waffle into my mouth, Noah came rushing down the stairs. For once, he was dressed in not-ripped jeans and a nice polo shirt. Plus, Noah’s hair was swooping to one side with gel.

“Special occasion, Noah actually cares about how he dresses,” I giggled. Noah shot a glare at me as he sat down next to Mom.

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