1 Chapter 1. Intro (I guess)

*Stefans POV*

Honestly, I don't know how to box or for that matter properly fight someone. My punching bag downstairs was more for my internal rage and pent up emotions then training of any sort. That didn't stop me from pounding the thing like no tomorrow.

I can feel the tension in my hands building and I know my hands will start to cramp. It's not that hard to figure out now that I've done this more than I would like to admit.

Though by now I'm used to it and the pain is nothing. I keep going at it, my hands beginning to numb. I know if my father saw me now he would say, "You can punch that bag as much as you want, but it won't change who and what you are and it definitely won't change how your family feels about you." Then I would just keep on punching until he finally forces me to go have dinner and socialize with the family.

He's not here though and I'm perfectly okay with that, he deserves it.

I continue to throw my anger at the punching bag putting my full force into each punch until I'm sweating half to death.

I finally stop out consideration for the time and go upstairs for dinner. Of course, my mother isn't home so I get out the culinary utensils and begin. Putting water on to boil and beginning to cook the hamburger meat. As the water begins to boil I put in my pasta being careful as to not give myself another burn like from past cooking experiences. I wait for the pasta to cook as I finish up with the meat making sure it is all browned and straining it to get rid of some of the greases and putting it back in the skillet it was in. As the noodles finish up a good couple of minutes later.

The final step to put all the finished product plus a jar and a half of sauce in a medium pot and stir. In most senses, I consider myself a relatively okay cook from what teaching I have and learned. I then with that take my food and go sit down to eat.

Though I'm not really focused on my food I'm thinking about him. My father. He never gave a damn fuck about me and my mother. And when he went and decided to overdose on the pills for his seizures. I didn't feel bad for him. My mother on the other hand she grieved and spent countless nights wishing he would come back. He didn't though.

Sadness consumed her. She became a workaholic not to mention a drunk when she wasn't at work. She would come home so drunk that she would think I was him and that said something considering I looked nothing like him. I lacked in everything he looked like.

He was tall with a height of 6ft and some odd inches, broad shoulders, and curly black hair on his head that was styled with pale but tanned skin. I am what you would call the opposite. I am not so much skinny but most people would call it that at least for a 16-year-old guy that is. Let's not mention a height of 5,10 that hasn't changed since 8th grade but I do have muscle even if its not as noticeable as I had hoped. I inherited my mother's brown yet slightly blonde highlighted hair.

My parents always said I lacked emotion and it's true I did. My mother has always been worried about me or at least was for a good amount of time worried about me. I tend to reframe from speaking to most people and keep to myself. I swear it's just me sometimes, but I know most of the time it's not. I don't care for many people and I have a lack of friends or any personal relationships.

Well until recently there's been this one person...

I stop eating for a moment embarrassed at the thought of him and then scold myself for doing so. It is not really I deny who I am. It is just that I'm not as comfortable as I would like to be with it not to mention this guy is a player and I should really change my preferences.

But I couldn't help thinking about Andrew Shin the guy I thought was super cute and was undeniably hot in my sophomore classes and still would be in my junior classes starting tomorrow.

He had black hair that fell past his shoulders that looked incredibly soft and slightly tanned skin that was already a perfect shade of chestnut and light brown from his native American blood. To top it off he had hazel eyes that were the color of his skin but slightly lighter with specks of blue and green towards the iris. Man, did I love those eyes...

I stopped myself before I got ahead of myself, but in truth, I wish I didn't feel this right now because if it wasn't for him I would have ended it all by now. All my thoughts ever intruding on my life and my shitty mother would all be gone and I would be too. I guess I can admit I'm depressed and seeking a way out.

But until then I'm a regular person who happens to have a crush on a bo...

NOT A CRUSH!!! Mentally scolding my self again.

I got up from my chair put the dishes in the sink and washed them off while putting up leftovers in the fridge and I went upstairs to my bed. Laid down hoping that tomorrow I wouldn't be thinking of such thoughts.

Tomorrow is the first day of school and if I'm late again this year the first-period teacher that I have had for a while may actually kill me.

Secretly though I'm hoping maybe I will see Andrew tomorrow.

(!!!Hope you guys like it so far!!!)