A/U: I should NOT be starting a new story. But I can't help it.


Rich Kids:
One Dollar.

For all my life, I have been average. Sports; not the best nor the worst. Grades; not the best nor the worst. Boyfriends and relationships; not the best nor the worst. And I was content with this. All of it. It wouldn't matter to me if the rest of my life was so. I never thought about it.

Until one day, in class, my last year in middle school and leading my life as that very average teen, that a teacher asked a question that I had no idea how to answer.

She went around the classroom, first, to the eager hands that sprung up immediately, then to the slackers who never listened. There were the quiet and timid ones next, and then the slightly ditzy who took quite some time to ponder over the question.

And then, all eyes fell on me. (Believe me, I hate cheesy lines, but still.)

I wasn't nervous, nor was I completely apathetic. It's just another one of those questions to answer, I told myself.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I could feel the pitying and sympathetic looks I was getting, and I searched my mind for the answer to the dreaded question.

But nothing.

I must've looked very distraught and embarrassed because the teacher nodded comfortingly after my fish-moment. She urged me to go to the washroom, and I kept my head down, not wanting to meet any of the gazes of any of the pitying classmates. I splashed some water on my face, and wondered about my freeze-up. I looked at myself in the mirror, and it felt as if I was seeing myself for the first time. But a stranger's obsidian eyes stared back into mine, and I posed that dreaded question aloud to myself.

"Who am I?"

I composed myself (as best I could) and walked back into class again, trying not to shrink under the scrutiny of the fellow 'concerned' classmates, but when I looked up, they were not looking at me, but a bit behind me.

I turned, but had no time at all to register who it was, because whoever it was attacked me.

"Molly!" someone picked me up and swung me around. "I didn't know I'd be in your class!"

Knowing that something fishy was going on, I whispered in whoever's ear this was.

"What the heck's happening?"

"Play along with it." The voice turned slightly arrogant and proud, reminiscent of the demeanor of Draco Malfoy from Harry Potter.

What a metaphor; at a time like this, I think of a fictional character?

Finally, whoever it was let go of me and I fell down, luckily landing on my feet. The class giggled and tittered, but I then realized that girls were looking at me jealously (for once), and for the third time that day, I froze.

He stepped back, so I could fully see him, and I said, "Uh oh."

And seriously, uh oh.

R&R. Thanks for reading!!