A fresh start is exactly what London McLaren needs in order to forget the demons of her past. A new last name, a new town and a new school.
She's about to start her final year of high school, ready to obey her parent's orders to keep her head down a...
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Tuesday evening, April 21st, 2020
School had been back for two days now. Unsurprising, I'd missed both.
I hadn't seen any of my friends since the fundraiser two weeks ago. I hadn't been able to face them. Instead, I had lied and said that I was going back home to visit family.
They hadn't questioned me, because why would they? They had no reason to think I was a liar.
I'd pretended to be sick yesterday and I was doing the same thing now. My parents hadn't seemed fazed. They probably liked the idea of keeping me inside, away from prying eyes.
My phone has been ringing non-stop for the past 48 hours. I hadn't answered a single call from anyone. I'd only briefly messaged Kennedy to inform her that I was 'sick'.
I knew that I was only putting off the inevitable. Sooner or later, I'd have to return to school. The last thing I needed was to fall behind.
But for right now, I just couldn't. How was I supposed to look at Harry without seeing Liam and everything my brother had inflicted?
After Asher had dropped me home that night, I'd done some more research. Of course, when I typed in Liam Coleman, everything that popped up was either about his charity work or the day he was killed. By my brother.
Article after article described him as a hero who had protected others from being shot that day. I had slammed the lid quickly after that. I couldn't take much more.
Despite how awful it sounded, I wish that I had remained ignorant about Liam. I wish I hadn't known about him at all.
I'm scrolling through Aubrey's petition about me, noticing that it's gained another 4,000 people, when the front door slams.
I jump, checking the time on my phone. It was just my parents, arriving home from work.
I can hear their murmuring voices as they walk throughout the house. I can hear footsteps suddenly nearing my door before there's a knock.
"Yes?" I call gently, clearing my search history and putting down my phone. I didn't know how far my parents would go these days to keep tabs on me.
Mum opens my door, pushing it all the way so that I get a full view of her.
"I think we should all talk."
So today was the day. Today they'd finally sit down and talk about the fight we had.
"Sure," I agree, shuffling my way out of the door.
My mother waits for me to walk into the room before her. My dad is already seated in the lounge room, his arms resting against his knees as he leans forward in his armchair.
"London," he greets me. "Are you feeling better?"
"Sort of," I mumble, shrugging. I fake my best cough.
