Page 3 of Saving Tracey (Finding Hope #1)

Chapter Two

S he came home right after I swallowed the pills.

Almost as if she knew exactly what I had done, she had come straight into my room once she walked in the door and forced me to throw up all the pills I had swallowed.

I leaned my back against the bathroom wall as I stared up at the ceiling, thinking of just how much I hated my mother while angry tears slid down my cheeks.

Not only had she stopped me from leaving this fucking awful life once again, but she had also taken and hidden every single method I had of killing myself.

Please, someone—something—anything, give me the strength to make it through this shit.

My parents were at work already the next morning when I woke up for school, and I was too sore to get up and move after my father had taken his anger out on me yet again when he had gotten up for work.

I fucking hated my life.

I stared down at my hands which were bruised and slightly swollen, two of my fingers pulled out of their sockets from fighting against him that morning. He hadn't taken too kindly to that, which resulted in my hands being in the state they currently were in.

I pushed my fingers back into their sockets with a grunt of pain and flexed them, only wincing a little at the pain that flared through my hand and up my arm. I swear, it was a miracle that none of my bones were broken.

My head jerked up when I heard the house phone ring in the hallway, and I forced myself to get off the floor to answer it, knowing it was going to be my dad telling me I had better go to school today.

Though how the fuck I was expected to walk all the way across town to get to school in this condition was beyond me.

I instantly picked up the phone when I got to it in the hallway. "Hello?" I asked, forcing my voice to come out strong despite how weak my father always made me feel.

"Tracey, make sure you go to school today,” my dad's gruff voice came through the line. I swallowed hard. "You'll be in a lot of trouble if you don’t,” he warned quietly.

I squeezed my eyes shut as fear rushed through my veins. I would get to that damn school even if it killed me to do so. "Yes, sir.”

He hung up the phone without another word, and I sighed, placing the house phone back down on the receiver, forcing myself to go to my room to get a shower.

After getting out, I got dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans and a long sleeve shirt paired with a black scarf and black boots.

I coated the bruises that I couldn't hide on my neck with a shit ton of make-up and then put gloves on my hands to hide the bruises and the swelling.

Blowing out a deep breath as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I counted to ten and headed to school.

As I walked into the school parking lot, I quickly picked up the sound of sneakers slapping against the pavement, the sound drawing closer to me.

I swung around in fear, and out of instinct, I prepared my body to defend itself.

However, once I saw that it was just Kaleb, I forced my body to relax as much as possible, not wanting him to see how much he had just frightened me.

Being frightened because someone was coming near you wasn’t normal.

He stopped right in front of me, his breathing calm even though he had just run across the school parking lot as if he were running a marathon.

"Hey." I only arched an eyebrow at him, forcing myself to come off as nonchalant and uncaring.

"I know that we didn't get to hang out yesterday because you were busy and all," I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly where he was going with this, "but I was wondering if you would like to hang out before classes start this morning?

My friends won't mind if you hang out with us.

" Did he really think that would win me over?

It did the exact opposite, actually. I didn't want to be around him, much less his friends as well.

I blew out a breath in agitation, ignoring the way my palms began to sweat at the thought of being around a crowd of people, especially people as popular and talkative as his friends.

"I answered your questions yesterday.” My voice was harsh, and I was hoping it would deter him. "Make something up in your report and leave me alone.”

I turned on my heel and started to walk away from him, but he grabbed my wrist, halting me in my tracks.

My heart pounded in my chest. I quickly yanked my wrist away from him, going into defense mode immediately.

My eyes narrowed into slits, and I did my best to ignore the way sweat began to trickle down my back as my anxiety levels spiked.

"I'm not going to make something up, Tracey." I flinched slightly at his harsh tone. "Get over yourself, and just come hang out with me."

"If you can't hear, then read my fucking lips." I wanted nothing more at that moment than to get as far away from him as fast as I could. I still had nausea churning in my stomach from him grabbing my wrist. "Leave me the fuck alone."

I turned on my heel, and this time, I successfully marched away from him. I blew out a harsh breath and drew in a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down once I was far enough way.

I hated the teacher that assigned this stupid project. I hated the class that I was forced to take with her as my teacher. I hated Kaleb for trying to become fucking friends with me.

I just wanted to be left alone! Was that really too much to ask?

It wasn't as if I could change my class either. I would have to fill out forms and talk to guidance counselors. Every student had to that tried to change their courses. I knew that the school wouldn't allow me to change my class just because I didn't want to do a stupid project.

Besides, my refusal to do this project would only bring about questions that really didn't need to be asked and that I frankly just couldn’t answer.

I walked into the school building and leaned against the wall in my usual spot by the English hallway, hoping that no one would approach me. I didn't want to talk to anyone, and I didn't want to deal with anyone.

More specifically, I really didn’t want to deal with Kaleb.

My history teacher that assigned this ridiculous project and Kaleb walked up to me a few minutes later, and anger rose in my chest, making me clench my hands into fists at my sides.

Great! He had fucking gone and told the teacher that I wasn't cooperating with him.

Could this shit possibly get any worse?

"Miss Olive, could you please come with me to the classroom? I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes before class.” Then, she turned on her heel to go down the hallway, expecting me to follow behind her.

With a heavy sigh, I pushed off the wall and followed the teacher and Kaleb to her classroom, my anger simmering just under the surface as I glared at their backs.

This wasn't how I wanted this to go. I didn't ever want to be recognized.

All my other teachers had gladly let me work on my own and fail instead of dealing with the problems and the fight that I put up against them.

Why did she have to fucking care? Why didn't Kaleb just fight to get a new partner that would actually cooperate?

Oh, that was right. Because he was Kaleb Brinson, and Kaleb Brinson was the fucking golden boy.

The teacher closed the door behind her, effectively shutting the three of us into the classroom. My guard went up instantly. Sweat trickled down my spine. My stomach churned.

I didn't like this. I didn't like this one fucking bit.

I wanted out of this classroom. I was trapped.

"Miss Olive, Mr. Brinson claims that you refuse to work with him on this project. I’m also hearing that you've told him that he should just make something up for his paper." She planted her hands on her hips, her disappointment in me clear as day on her face.

I glared at her with defiance gleaming in my eyes. "Yeah, I did.” She recoiled slightly since she had obviously expected me to lie to her. "Do you have a problem with that?"

She was a bit taken aback by my answer, and it took her a moment to respond. "Miss Olive, you need to cooperate with Mr. Brinson on this project or you will fail." Did it look like I gave a fuck?

I shrugged. "If I cared about whether or not I failed, do you really think that I would refuse to do this project?" It was a rhetorical question. "My grades don't matter to me.”

I mean, what did it matter if I passed or failed if I was just going to eventually kill myself anyway? Besides, I didn't have time to be worrying about my grades. My days were spent being beaten half to death and trying to restore my strength.

It was honestly a damn miracle I wasn't dead yet as it was.

"I'm sure they matter to your parents." I refrained from snorting. My parents honestly couldn't care less about my grades. "Would you like for me to call your mother and father? I know Mr. and Mrs. Olive would not be happy to hear their daughter doesn't care about her grades."

I sighed and dropped my bag on the floor beside a random desk and sat down in it, my body protesting at the ache that standing up without any kind of support for so long had brought.

What this teacher failed to realize was that my parents wouldn't give the slightest damn.

Teachers had tried calling my parents before to get me to do my work, but my dad normally just hung up on them or told them that they were wasting his time.

My dad was happy with me as long as he could use me as a punching bag and get pleasure from my body.

My mother was happy as long as she wasn't left alone with my dad.

My grades and school honestly didn't mean shit to either of them.

"Call them." I was daring her. Shock lit up her features. "They'll be happy to inform you that you're wasting their precious time."

I looked over at Kaleb. He was angry—livid even. I could tell by his hard facial features, the arms that were crossed over his chest, and his tense muscles.