"That's a pretty name," he commented, tone light. "Do you mind if I sit next to you? I'm new so I don't really know anyone."
Emma sighed. "I don't think you'll find me that great of company, but go ahead."
"So, tell me a bit about yourself," Louis pressed, keeping the conversation going.
"NOt much to tell, besides I've lived here my whole life."
"And how old are you then?"
"I'm sixteen," Louis told her.
SHe rolled her eyes. "Cool. And I care why? Oh, yeah, that's right. I don't."
"Well, what do you care about?" Louis asked, refusing to be put off.
"Music," she blurted out before thinking. Then she blushed and turned away.
The girls burst into giggles. “As if. Her mother was probably a goblin and her father a troll. I mean, look at her! She’s ugly! ” said the on girl with shiny blonde hair
“Then again, we’ll never know ‘cause they never cared about such a little b*tch as that!” Another round of laughter started as Emma’s fist clenched. She continued to stare down at her plate.
They could have said anything else and Louis wouldn't have cared, but using her parents to insult her made him angry. He picked up his plate of food and threw it at the girls.
They screamed and gasped. "How dare you!" Emma's head shot up and she gaped at him in surprise. "You shouldn't have done that!" she told him, her eyes widening with fear as the blond girl gave her a death glare.
"What are they going to do, pout at me?" Louis said, unafraid.
“It's not you they're going to give bloody noses and black eyes and broken bones to,” she muttered, looking away. Emma caught the glittering, green eye of Abigail Jones and read murder in it. She sighed. Oh, well. This was life.
"Well, if they hurt you I think they should know that I'm not too gentlemanly to punch a girl," he said confidently.
Emma sighed. "I sleep in the same room as they do. There is nothing you can do about, so please, just leave it be." She got up. "I'm gonna go."
"I wouldn't mind sleeping in the same room as you," Louis smirked.
Her dark brow quirked. “That’s against regulations, for one thing, and for another, you’re a good liar.”
"Trust me, I'm an exceptionally awful lier. One that doesn't really care about regulations."