Burnouts 2: Without Butterflies

It Doesn't Hurt It Feels Fine

Scene 1: Outside of Addington High

Heather Blakely

"Goodbye, see you at home."

"Wait a minute. There's something I want to talk to you about," my father said before I could leave the car.

"Am I in trouble?"

"No," he takes brochures out of the inside of his jacket and hands them to me. "Your mother wanted to have this discussion together, but I know how you'd react."

"You're sending me to boarding school?"

"If you'd like to go."

"Where is this coming from?"

"We've noticed your recent mood. You seemed to have befitted from a change of scenery before. If it would help again-"

"I don't want to leave home," I responded, quickly.

"We could go with you..."

"...You could?"

"I've been considering relocating to California. That's why I wanted to talk to you first. We could do boarding school, or we can all move— as a family."

"...do I have time to think about it?"

He nodded. "As much as you need."

"Okay...bye. Love you."

"I love you too. Do well in school today."

The door opened, and I climbed out of the car, the brochures still in my hand.

We've only ever lived here. Traveling doesn't compare, Manhattan is still all I know.

But California is warm...it's far away from here...a fresh start.

The faces on the brochures are of smiling kids in front of beautiful schools that promise state-of-the-art facilities and flourishing social clubs.

The lack of familiar faces is a good enough sell for me-

I look up from my reading when I'm shoved by someone's shoulder.

I turned to see who it was, and my teeth gritted when I saw her. "Excuse you."

"What?" Elle snapped.

"Don't pretend you didn't just push me."

"Were you in my way?"

"No, you were in mine. But, clearly they don't teach manners where you're from."

"That is the last time you bitches are going to act like you're better than me," she practically yelled.

"Please," I scoffed. "Who's acting?"

"I don't know what your deal is but you've got the wrong girl if you think I'm just going to take it."

"The wrong girl?" I rolled my eyes. "Get over yourself. Who are you?"

"I think you know."

"Then you're not thinking very hard."

She smirked. "I'm dating the boy who broke up with you."