Welcome to my Life-- A story (don't read if you are friends with my new account)

Welcome to my Life-- A story (don't read if you are friends with my new account)

Four kids with four very different lifes. But after one death, read about how all these lives become one.

Gwendyln Kynterson- "the popular one"
Alicia Goldsmith- "the loner"
Rex Lane- "the bad boy"
Harold Oferinellis- "the fat kid"

To see a larger version of the cover title, look in my photo album

A similar story- http://www.quibblo.com/quiz/h4lXu5N/Loose-Ends-An-Original-Story

More about this story- http://www.quibblo.com/quiz/hjnNIpC/An-Interview-With-Some-Quibblo-Authors

Chapter 3

Like somehow you just don't belong and no one understands you

"Dude, are you going to take the whole night or something?" Harold knew it wasn't a good idea to come to his a friend-of-a-friend's party. As soon as he entered in the mad house, people started to harrass him for his weight issues. It's not his fault that food tastes so good. Is it too much to ask that people won't make fun of him for his stomach?

He exits his hide out, leaving the bathroom door wide open. A smirk forms on the guy's face when he sees Harold. As much as he wants to, he forces himself to not wipe the smirk off the man's face. The kid moves past him and Harold makes his way to the front door.

It was a bad decision coming here tonight. Harold even bets that his friend ditched him on purpose.

"Watch where you're going, fatty." The harsh tone stings Harold, but he keeps pushing foward. More names were spit at him until he finally left the wild house. Once outside in the cold night, he felt more relaxed, still hurt, but relaxed.

"Hey, kid." Harold ignores the words and steps in the direction of his truck. "Some help here, man." Harold curiously turns around and sees the most bizzare sight of the night.

Rex Lane is trying to help up a passed out Gwen Kynterson. Frightened by the dangerous man asking for his help, Harold quickly tries to run for it.

"Dude, she's slipping. I'd really owe you one if you help me out here." Harold's feet stop moving as a smile forms on his face. Helping Rex with Miss Popular will mean that he can get Rex to repel the bullies and all the rude nick names-- like Hard-bellied Harold. He turns around and carefully moves to help Rex.

He grabs her ankles while Rex takes her arms.

"Do you think her parents would mind if we dump her at her house drunk and passed out?" Rex asks and then winces on how bad that sounds. "Scratch that. Can we load her at your house for the night?" Harold shifts uncomfortably.

"My parents wouldn't be pleased that I was here in the first place. They'd be even more upset if I brought home a drunk girl." Rex looks back at the party and seems to be deciding between a few options.

"What if we load her into my truck and bring her to your house?" Harold asks, thinking that Rex's parents would be more sympathetic since their son has already been expelled not once, not twice, but three times. Rex's face is full of worry and he looks down at Gwen.

"Fine." They start moving to my truck and Rex asks, "Are we loading her into the back of your pick-up truck?" Harold looks at the back of the trunk and remembers that he kept some music equipment back there.

"I'll stay in the back of the trunk with her when you drive the truck to your house." They lift up the girl, heavier than she looks and Harold joins her. He tosses Rex the keys and he notices that Rex has discovered Harold's secret passion.

"Are you... a drummer?" Not wanting to expose himself to the criminal, he doesn't answer Rex's question. Rex

"Let's get going before it gets too late."
===========
Gwen's eyes flutter open. Where is she? Better question, why is there a guy sleeping on a chair across from the bed she is in?

Kathy. The name causes the already burning pain in her throat, chest, and head to expand. Gwen groans in pain and begins to massage her head.

The sudden sound causes the boy in the seat to flinch and wake up. Gwen pulls the sheets all the way up, worried that she doesn't have any clothes on. After a second of awareness, she calms down-- slightly.

Gwen's face quickly changes from scared to bold. She can't let this boy see how weak she truly is. "You better start explaining what is going on, or I will have my parents' lawyers sue you for harrassment and kidnapping."

All the guy does is laugh as if it's a joke. "I don't think you are the one to be sueing me, thank you very much." He stands from his seat and leaves the room.

"Where do you think you are going?" Gwen asks after him, but he must not have heard her because he doesn't respond. She stays in the bed, trying to remember what specifically happened the previous night. The boy arrives back sooner than she expected and she straightens her collapsing back. The tray of items that he is carrying in his hands are placed in front of her and she looks at the different types of things.

"What is this?" she asks rudely.

"Well, princess, since you asked... On this plate is a collection of hangover remedies. I've got everything from milk to apple cider vinegar." Hangover? Gwen then places a hand to her head remembering the party. She takes the milk and starts to gulp some quickly down, hoping that it would miraculously cure all of her pain. It doesn't.

She sucks in a breath as she remembers the boy. The guy that saved her from being completly ruined forever. "So, I guess I should thank you, huh? What do you want? Friends, food, clothes? Or just money, since it can buy all those things?" He stands up, his broad shoulders making him look scary.

"I don't want your money. Just hurry up because, in case you've forgotten, we have school today." She shuts her mouth feeling beer fly up her throat. He quickly grabs the trash can across the room and hands it to her. She heels over and spits out the disgusting mess all while the guy politely holds back her hair.

"Look... I really want to thank you. Let me do something." He stands up from the bed he was sitting on and struts to the door.

"Then do me the favor of never talking to me again." With that, and a slam of a door, he leaves the room.

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