II. Everything Turns Weird

"A faithful friend is a strong defense: and he that hath found such a one hath found a treasure."

-Apocypha: Ecclesiasticus, vi, 14

In case you're wondering, I'm not dead.

If I was, then what would be the point in the story?

And dying in such a lame ass way? No thanks.

The car screeched to a halt, inches away from my knees. I was for the first time in a long time…frozen in fear.

And no, my life did not flash before my eyes, because, let's face it, when a car is heading straight at you, you don't have time to think about your life. All you would be able to think about is some curse word, and then your mind just goes blank. That's what happened to me. But a second after the stupid shiny car stopped on front of me and I realized I was unharmed; I immediately flew back to my bad mood.

"Watch where you're going, bonehead!" I shouted at the unknown driver, angrily. I kicked his bumper and made a dent (Yes, I have a powerful kick) before stomping away. Well, okay, running away.

Why, you ask? Because whether I liked it or not, I was still shaken up because of my near death experience. Even though I think it's a lame ass way of dying, it's still pretty scary.

I ran to the nearest park, there was a bathroom there. I stopped in front of the bathroom's mirror, panting. And not because I ran, it was because I was hyperventilating, and my nerves were going haywire.

I was definitely having trouble breathing…

When I looked at the mirror to see if I was pale or not (I seriously think it's the former), I was horrified to see my eyes and hair changing colors.

I nearly screamed, but stopped myself. I closed my eyes, and took deep breaths. I was probably just hallucinating due to what happened earlier. I mean, no human can change their appearance at will just like that, right?

I drew in one last breath, and let it out.

There, I'm calm.

I waited at least one minute before opening my eyes again, and then sighed in relief.

I was back to normal.

Thank God.

Then I realized something.

Oh fuck! I'm late!

I immediately ran out of the bathroom.

Lloyd Mitchell Valmont

"Andrew, I don't fucking care about who's there, just tell me the damn location!!" Lloyd Mitchell Valmont shouted at his friend, Seth Lemuel—or in this case 'Andrew', through the use of a cellphone.

"Lloyd—" his friend started, but he quickly cut him off.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Michael when we're out here?!" he bellowed, furiously. "Use the goddamn aliases for Christ's sake!"

"What does Christ have to do with all of this?"

Lloyd could have just smashed the cellphone into pieces, but he successfully restrained himself. "It's a fucking expression, you moron!" he shouted in fury.

He could hear the pout in Seth's voice when he said, "But no one is going to hear us anyway."

Lloyd terribly wanted to wring the guy's neck. "It's better to make sure, Andrew."

He heard a low chuckle at the other end of the line. "Don't be so mad, Llo—" Lloyd growled. "—Michael. All you need to do is take a deep breath, and put all your anger into a little ball, and let it go. Release your anger."

"Stop quoting the guy in Cartoon Network! I am not Mojo Jojo! Now spit out the fucking location!" he shouted again, frustrated.

He was silent for a moment. "You know, I'm quite shocked you knew about that…"

"The. Location. Andrew."

"Okay, okay. Well, you're somewhere around Hawthorn St., right? You know, Washington Ave? Yeah, just go along there, and you'll find it. We're the big white house with the big garden party. Problem is, Madame President's expecting you here in 20 minutes, since, you know, that's the time your 'private' interview starts. And it takes more than that to get here, so you really have to rush—"

'Michael' snapped his phone shut, not wanting to hear another word from his friend, 'Andrew'. That guy could be annoying when you get him started.

He stepped on the gas pedal, making his car accelerate. He turned to the rearview mirror to check his hair. It was spiked and in its temporary dirty blonde color.

Ugh, he couldn't wait to dye it back to its real black color, and just take all that gel off.

He turned his focus back on the road, just in time to see that he was headed straight into a girl crossing the street. It took him a moment to react.

"Holy shit!!" he cursed, stomped hard on the brake,—and silently thanked the Big Guy that he chose this day to wear a seatbelt, since it would be a pain to explain how his car's wrecked and yet he didn't get a single scratch—hearing the tires screech violently. He closed his eyes tightly, afraid that it was too late, and got ready for the impact.

The car screeched to a halt, but no impact came.

A second later, an angry voice pierced the deafening silence, making him open his eyes in shock. His stormy gray eyes landed on a dark-haired girl…who looked just about ready to kill.

"Watch where you're going, bonehead!" she shouted at him, furiously.

Bonehead?, he echoed in his head, incredulously.

The girl kicked his car's bumper, to his astonishment, and stomped away.

Lloyd stayed frozen there for a moment, the incident running through his mind again and again. Everything went by so fast that he had trouble processing it.

He got out of the car slowly, and walked in front of his car to look at his bumper. The dent was very noticeable.

He turned to look at the path the girl took.

Well, one thing's for sure. That girl isn't human.

His phone started ringing, so he immediately flipped it open and placed it on his ear.

He immediately regretted doing that when—

"Where the FUCK are you, LEWEY?!" Mrs. President shrieked into his sensitive ear. "You get here in 10 damn minutes or you are fucking FIRED!!"

He cringed visibly. Oww…

"Okay, I'll be there! I'll be there!" he told her, quickly, and then hung up immediately before the irritating hag could shout anything more. He sighed, and ran a hand through his fake blonde hair, messing it up slightly.

Great. Now he needed to teleport the whole car with him to get there in time. He groaned, tiredly—the girl momentarily forgotten.

What a pain in the ass.

Roxanne Adellaide Adams

"Hey, Roxy," Jenny Goldberg greeted me when she saw me in the school garden, smoking. I was skipping 1st period since I was late anyway.

I immediately dropped my cigarette and stomped on it with my worn out converse. I looked up at Jenny as I stood straight and shoved my black-manicured nails in my pockets. "Hey Jen," I replied, casually.

Jenny smiled knowingly. "Weren't you suppose to be trying to stop smoking?" she asked, as casually as I did, trying to hide a laugh.

I put my right hand on my chest. "It was a momentary lapse of judgment. I swear." I told her, solemnly. If she told this to Ashton, I am so dead.

She rolled her eyes, knowing I was spouting bullshit. "Have you seen Ashton?" she asked, sitting down next to me. I sat down too, and shook my head.

"No. I guess he's still at—hey, wait a minute. Why are you here?" I cocked an eyebrow at her. "It's 1st period right now. You're not skipping, are you?"

"Technically, no. Because Mrs. Ackerman is on a maternity leave and there's no substitute." She explained, coolly.

I snorted, unattractively. "Figures," I said with a smirk. She would never skip class.

She elbowed me with a glare. "Ow!" I exclaimed, pretending to be angry. "Have I ever told you how bony you are?" I rubbed my side.

"You got another title again." She supplied, ignoring my comment.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "What is it this time?" I asked, dully. All this crap about highschool hierarchy sickens me.

"…Witch Queen. Only it's not really 'witch'." She said, uncomfortably. She didn't like saying bad words. She was brought up quite nicely.

I snorted. "That's original." I said, sarcastically, playing with my lighter. Can't they come up with something more interesting and insulting? Gosh.

You must be wondering who gave me this title. I'm not that sure, but it might be the guy I dated then dumped last week, Jeremy Lewis. He's one of the most popular juniors in the school, so it wouldn't be that hard for him to trash my name and spread that title around.

"Oobagloobah!" Ashton cried out, suddenly appearing from behind the tree.

Jenny gave a high-pitched shriek, but I only gave him a blank look, since i had known he was there ever since Jenny told me about my new title. Thank God, he didn't see me smoking.

"Question," I raised my hand, as Jenny glared at Ashton. "What exactly does 'Oobagloobah' mean?"

Ashton eyed me, then went, "I don't know, but it might be German for 'I know you smoked, now hand over the pack'." He smirked.

I frowned, a bit embarrassed as I shoved my hand in my pocket. "How did you know, dammit?" I grumbled, handing the cigarette pack to him, reluctantly.

His smirk turned mocking. "You smell like nicotine, Rox." He said, rolling his eyes.

I sniffed myself.

He's right.

"I don't get it." I started. "Why do I have to stop just when I'm turning 16 when it's legal for me to smoke?"

Ashton sat on the other side of me. "Because, dear," he dragged it out, patiently. "I don't want you going lung cancer on me when we're still not finished taking over the world."

I nodded, solemnly. "Good point."

"I know." He jutted out his chin, arrogantly.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "You guys are weirdoes."

I grinned at her. "Takes one to know one, don't you agree, Ash?" I elbowed Ashton.

Ashton pushed his imaginary glasses up the bridge of his nose, and held up a finger. "Of course," He agreed, with a diplomatic tone. His reddish brown hair looked like dark brown under the tree's shade.

Jenny pushed me, resulting in me hitting Ashton, making him tumble sideways. Instead of complaining, he smiled widely and laughed.

This isn't the first time I tried to fathom how the three of us became so close. I mean, we're all so different.

Jenny Goldberg was smart, timid (usually), and serious. She's rational and realistic and not really open-minded, but she's the nicest of us trio. She's obviously the social butterfly.

Ashton Devon, in the meantime, is funny, a clown and a total sweetheart. He's not really that sociable, but if you talk to him first he's very friendly. If he's not with me or Jenny, he'll be with his teammates in basketball. And he's the smartest jock I've ever seen here in Condor Academy.

Me? I'm the mean bitch. I'm the chick you shouldn't mess with. I'm the one who has the barely passing grades. Don't get me wrong, I'm not stupid, just incredibly lazy.

See how different we are from each other?

Many people think I'm dating Ashton because they just can't believe that someone as popular as Ashton would be just friends with someone like me—in which I mean, the type who 'Dates and Dumps'.

Yes, people, I date and dump. Boohoo, what-fucking-ever. Don't tell me you expected me to be nice in some way? I keep telling you, I am not nice.

Well, to people I don't care about, anyway.

It's impossible for me to date Ashton. It's not that Ashton's hideous or anything, I mean, he's actually very handsome, but we're friends. I don't fool around with friends.

Besides, Ashton is practically my brother. That would be like, I don't know, incest.

"5…4…3…2…1…" I counted down, softly, staring at the sky. Ashton and Jenny didn't stare at me oddly because they knew quite well what I was doing, I always countdown whenever I skip classes, with or without them. Just a weird habit of mine.

Right after I said 'one', the bell rang, indicating that 1st period was over.

"This sucks for our last day in 10th grade." I said, leaning back on the tree and taking a deep breath.

"Yeah," They said, dully, in unison. Apparently, they weren't so hyper about the stupid diagnostic tests too.

"Shouldn't you two be running off to your classes like good little students?" I asked them, closing my eyes, enjoying the breeze.

Jenny groaned. "Are you going to skip again?" she asked, standing up.

Ashton readily answered for me. "Of course she is. She hates tests." Then added, "Especially useless tests."

I grunted to show my approval and agreement.

They left me alone.

Ahh, jeez, can nothing more exciting than any of these actually happen to me? I'm so bored. I guess I'm content in my current life…or something, but I get pretty bored too.

I enjoyed 5 more minutes of blissful silence when I was rudely interrupted.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Why, if it isn't the Bitch Queen…" I heard the familiar voice of Bradley Newdie say.

I almost snorted. That was just the typical entrance for villains in movies…

I opened one eye lazily to look at my ex-boyfriend. Well, one of them.

He stood in front of me, arms crossed, his football buddies standing behind him like a pair of faithful dogs.

I decided to open both of my eyes now, as I gave him a smirk. "Aw, Brad. It's so nice of you to grace me with your unwanted presence at the last day of school. No, really," I added, quickly, sitting up. "I thought you'd be out getting drunk at some party again. You know, your usual schedule." I shrugged, nonchalantly.

His face contorted in anger. "Thanks for dumping me last summer." He spat, sarcastically, sneering hatefully at me.

Jesus Christ, not that again. When is he going to get over that?

I smirked wider, just to piss him off. "That was practically a year ago, Brad. I think it's about time you get the hell over it. It was a summer fling, what did you expect?" I told him, beyond tired of the subject.

Last summer, I had dated him—totally oblivious of the fact that he actually goes to my school. I mean, I thought he was some guy from the public school nearby, so I had given the okay when he asked me out. So now, he's hated me and is now bugging me with this ever since the said 'dumping' commenced.

"You were probably cheating on me the whole time." He suddenly accused, out of the blue. Okay, where the hell did that come from?

"I beg your fucking pardon?" I asked, dangerously, in a low, offended tone.

He smirked; as if happy he got to me. "Yeah," he started nodding. "That's it. You cheated on me. And probably with your darling Devon too." He mocked Ashton's last name.

My eyes darkened. He was already pissing me off by accusing me of cheating and now he's bringing Ashton in this too? He was really asking for it.

I smiled, mirthlessly. "You're still paranoid about that? How many times do I have to tell you this? Ashton and I are friends." I said, gently, but there was still a cold edge to my voice. "Not that it's any of your business, seeing that I've dumped you like a year ago."

He smiled back, coldly, but it was quite obvious he wanted to sneer. "I bet you fucked him every chance you got. Even with all your previous boyfriends like…Let's say, Jeremy Lewis? Whenever you ditch them for Devon and say 'hang out' or other shit like that, you were actually going to go fuck him, weren't you?" he bit out, viciously. My hand tightened into a fist as I glared disgustedly at him.

I CANNOT believe him…How dare he…

He smirked, darkly.

"So tell me, Rox, when are you going to go fuck him again?"

That's when I completely snapped.

Detention.

That's what I got for sending my ex-boyfriend to the hospital. I know I should've been suspended or something, but that would be kind of pointless since it's the last day of school anyway.

But apparently, they still held detentions on the last day of school.

"Roxy," Ms. Sennedy, our grade warden, started. We were on the first name basis already, because I'm always here at least once in two weeks. "I am very disappointed in you. I mean, I know you're a frequent guest to this part of the school, but I never thought I'd see you here at the last day of school!"

Well, I never thought the school would be holding detentions on the last day of school. Look at that! Isn't life just full of surprises? (Note the sarcasm)

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Do I look like I care if she's disappointed in me? Spare me the information because I don't give a shit.

After Brad had said that, I jumped on him like a mad woman and punched him square in the nose. Then I took out my ballpoint pen (I don't remember where I got it, I just whipped it out) and got ready to stab it into something I'm quite sure he wouldn't be able to live without.

But at the last second, a pang of pity flashed through my mind and I stabbed it into his thigh instead.

His painful scream was accompanied by another scream—a girl from somewhere who might've seen me doing the stabbing—and I was pulled off of Brad by two large hands, before I could do any more damage.

His football buddies were standing in fear at the sides and didn't do anything to help.

What great and reliable friends, I thought, sneering at them.

I got the chance to look around, and saw that a lot of the skippers were watching us, and a female teacher who I didn't know was staring wide-eyed at Brad's bleeding thigh.

"FUCK YOU, Brad." I spat at him, while the gym teacher held me back, since I wanted to lunge at the dick again. "You don't have the right to speak that way about my friend at the rate you're going. Speak bullshit about my friend again and I'll kill you. I'll kill you, you got that?!"

The female teacher looked at me as if I had just directed those words at her. While she looked absolutely terrified of me, I just wanted to laugh at her.

"You…you bitch…you stabbed," he paused to breathe hard. "…my thigh…" he was having trouble breathing, but I didn't care. I think he was panicking, as he held onto his bleeding thigh.

I remember, I had laughed sadistically at that time.

"Roxy," Ms. Sennedy's voice brought me out of my reverie.

I focused on her chubby face. "Yes, Maria?"

"Mr. Dryan had asked for you. You can leave and go to his office." Ms. Sennedy said, and then frowned. "I hope this doesn't happen again."

Which one? The stabbing or the detention?

"Okay," I said, nodding, even though I knew that it probably would happen again. Either of those two.

I walked out and proceeded to Mr. Dryan's office—or how other students would put it…

The Principal's Office.

I knocked twice.

"Come in." I heard his voice from inside. I went inside, and saw Mr. Dryan sitting behind this big mahogany desk.

He looked very much distressed, and his office was filled with cigar smoke. When he saw me, he put out his cigar on his black ashtray and started drumming his fingers rhythmically on the surface of his shiny desk, as if thinking hard about how to start the inevitable conversation with me.

I sat down on the seat across him. "Hello, Mr. Dryan." I greeted him, casually. I've visited him a few times already, and he's already branded me as one of the most troublesome troublemakers.

"That's Principal Dryan to you, young lady." He reprimanded me through gritted teeth.

I held up my hands, and pretended to back off. "Okay, your call." I said, easily.

"Miss Adams," he started, with barely contained anger. "This is your 7th visit to the Principal's office—and here I was thinking I'd experience a peaceful day today—but no, you just had to prove me wrong by stabbing your fellow schoolmate!" he looked incredulous and in the same time, furious. "You should be expelled!"

"Then expel me!" I told him, leaning back, bored. At least then, something different would happen to me. I mean, how many students in America get expelled on their last day, really?

"It would be ridiculous to expel you on the last day of school. And I'm not planning to be the first ever Highschool Principal to expel a student on the last day of school." He told me, coldly, obviously not amused about how I was acting. "You should be thankful the Newdies aren't going to press charges, Miss Adams."

My eyes slightly widened in surprise. I was thinking for sure that they were going to sue me…I mean, what kind of parents don't sue the person who stabbed their one and only son? Despite the fact that the said stabber is a 15-year-old girl.

"Really? Why?" I asked, in curiosity.

Mr. Dryan fixed me with a condescending stare. "Apparently, Bradley asked them not to. You should thank him, or you'd be in juvenile hall by the end of the month." He told me stiffly.

I snorted. "Thank him? He didn't do that for my sake." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Even if he didn't," Mr. Dryan started, powerfully. "Thank him, because if he didn't ask them, your future would've been ruined."

What future?, I thought, bitterly.

I didn't say anything, because his mind was already set on it. And it was no secret to me that Mr. Dryan was a stubborn man.

"I shall call your father." He said, and picked up the sleek black phone from its cradle.

I inwardly scowled. Great, I'm going to get beaten up again. Whoop-de-fucking-doo.

"Where are Brad's parents anyway? Shouldn't they be here glaring at me, hating my guts?" I asked, dully, remembering the brown-haired old couple.

Mr. Dryan stopped dialing to give me an uneasy look. "Mrs. Newdie didn't want to see you, and I quote, 'I might strangle her.'." he coughed, uncomfortably. "Something like that…"

I snorted. "Oh yeah? I'd like to see the old hag try." I muttered, chuckling. That woman has hated every fiber of my being ever since she first laid eyes on me. Apparently, she thought I was taking her darling 'Bradley-kins' away from her.

Yay, he stopped dialing.

Mr. Dryan slammed a hand on his desk. "Miss Adams!! How dare you talk like that! She's distressed because you stabbed her son for practically no reason!" he shouted at me, standing up.

I also stood up, in outrage. "NO REASON?! Is that what the bastard told you?! I stabbed him for no reason?!" I shouted back, in mixed anger and disbelief. "Mr. Dryan, you know I won't do something like that for no reason! He was badmouthing my friend and accusing me of doing things I didn't! He had it coming, seeing that he was provoking me!"

"But that is not enough reason to stab somebody, Miss Adams, and you goddamn know it!!" Mr. Dryan raised his voice higher, finally getting mad.

I stared at him angrily at him, not saying anything. He's right.

"Sit down, Miss Adams." He ordered, watching me, angrily. I considered rebelling, but finally sat down. He followed suit and took deep breaths to calm himself.

"I apologize for blowing up at you, but you really have to stop being such a pain in the ass." He told me, massaging his temples, tiredly.

I stared at him. Did our principal just call me a 'pain in the ass'?

He looked at me suddenly. "My sources tell me you threatened Mr. Newdie by saying, I quote, 'I'll kill you. I'll kill you, you got that'…" he lowered his glasses at me. "The Guidance Counselor is very disturbed and concerned about this particular statement."

In early laughed out loud. "Oh my God, she's worried about that? I was joking." I said. Not completely though, I added, silently.

He ignored me. "She thinks you should see a psychiatrist. That's why we're calling your father." He said, and picked up the phone again. This time, I didn't disturb him.

He frowned after a few minutes. "That's weird. No one's answering." He mumbled, but I heard it perfectly. He saw my delight and scowled.

"Maybe he finally decided to go jump of a cliff along with that hideous ape he calls a 'wife'." I suggested, smirking.

He whipped out his cellphone. "Don't speak about your parents that way, and I am in no mood to deal with your sarcasm, Miss Adams." He caught sight of my smirk. "Don't be so happy yet, I have your father's cellphone number. He gave it to me last time you 'visited'." He said, smiling, sardonically at me, completely wiping off my smirk. Damn.

He dialed, and brought it to his ear. I waited for a few minutes, and smirked again when he frowned. "No one's answering again." He grumbled, and then turned to scowl at me. "You're free for now, Miss Adams, but I assure you…your father will hear about this." He motioned to his door, grudgingly.

I grinned, widely. "Okay, Mr. Dryan—"

"Principal Dryan." He corrected me through gritted teeth.

I ignored him and continued to grin. "—see you 'til next time." I said, joyfully, and skipped out.

I couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad is going to happen though…

A/N:

Well, that's the first part of chapter two, because, well, it would be long if I combined it. XD

I updated real quick, because I was so happy about the reviews! You guys are awesome. (smile)

Anyway, I'll get out the second part real quick, kay? Pleeaaasee review! And tell me if i made any mistakes! XD

-Jessi