Chapter 2 – Ohh…crap


I…am not…a whore x3

I dunno…RAMBLING FROM A COLD, TIRED, HYPER PERSON! EEEEK! x3 This is weird for me…not using any of my usual characters, but I think it's refreshing :D for me and my readers!


Um…yeah…so the usual then? Alrighty. My mom said I had a growth spurt over the summer…not true…not true at all…

I'm still the same 5'8, 124lbs…pale, pale, pale complexion…stupid freckles everyone thinks is either a rash or sunburn…yeah…exactly the same as last year.

So I'm guessing my mom knew that, and wanted an excuse to buy me new clothes—even if they look exactly like my old clothes…

Jeans, sneakers, sweaters and graphic tees…

Yup…my mom outdid herself this time. I pulled on a purple sweater and sighed. My favourite color wasn't purple. Neither was sky-blue, or yellow…or orange…or pink…

But nope…my mom never thought to get me the regular ol' blue sweater… I frowned at the clothes she got me. Don't get me wrong, I was grateful for them…I was…

I just don't get why she doesn't just give me the money and I could go scour thrift shops and Value Villages myself…then she wouldn't have to look for clothes that could cost an arm and a leg. I pulled the price tag off my sweater I was using and went downstairs. She was still sleeping.

My dad already left for work. He works in the town over…even though he probably qualifies for a lot of the work here…

Oh well, not my business.

My non-existent life was about to take a turn for the worst…I could feel it.

I left for school early, so I wouldn't have to wait long for the lock for my locker. You should see it when the bell rings…the kids are like animals…I hate it. I'm so invisible, people usually bowl me over and ignore me, or they act like I'm a freak and purposely go around me when their friends are by them, making them laugh.

Yeah, that's why I didn't fall for Mr. Popular—he's an asshole.

The bell rang just as I was putting the last bit of my stuff away. I took a big, deep breath and closed my eyes to steady my nerves. I swear…my writing is down the toilet and they're going to send me back to kindergarten to work on my writing…


I looked at my time-table and groaned loudly. So not the class I signed up for! Drama 12?! I can't act to save my life! I can't even stand in front of a small group of people to give a speech without fainting, vomiting or stuttering like a mess…much less a whole class, and possibly a crowd of people. I've heard stories from people in my class about the drama teacher too!

I started hyperventilating on cue.

Okay…no…I…no…I can do this!

I can't do this…

No…I can!

No…I can't…fuck…fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! I banged my head against the lockers accordingly.

I checked my watch, the bell was going to ring in a minute! I grabbed my messenger bag, binder and pencil case before bolting down the hall. As per usual, someone didn't see me…or wasn't paying attention…either way, we were both sprawled on the floor and I was nearly crushed by them. "Get off, I'm going to be late!" I pushed at them, grabbed my bag and anything else I dropped and took off.

Stupid…stupid, stupid, stupid! I made it to the class as the bell rang and fell against the counter beside the door. I was probably red in the face.


I looked towards where my classmates were. Good, no one in the group noticed me. I inconspicuously sat down next to someone I knew of from my other classes last year—I'm sure none of these people remembered who I was, even though I've been in the same classes with them for the past 4 years. Oh well…I'm used to it.

"It's nice of you to join us-," I winced, "Mr. Anderson," the teacher's voice cut through-wait…Mr. Anderson? My name wasn't…erm…

"Yeah…yeah…" I heard a sleepy voice answer as the late person fell into the chair beside me. I peeked over and seen him staring at me from behind a curtain of dyed purple bangs. Turning my eyes away quicker than a normal human should be able to; I stared at my feet, already trying to think of an apology for looking at him.

I'm sorry, Mr. Anderson?


I'm so sorry for peeking at you, I didn't know not to! I'm sorry! I've been taught my own lesson! I know that's confusing, I'm sorry for confusing you! Cue burst on crying? Nah…I wouldn't be able to do that…

As I've said before, I can't act to save my life…

"You dropped this…and I think you have my binder," a gruff voice said with a sharp edge. I looked around me to see who was getting the cold shoulder before I realized everyone was looking at me. Don't ask me why! Wait…I can answer that… That purple-banged guy was holding my blue binder in front of me, drawing attention to us by towering over me. I took it gingerly, careful not to touch his hand with mine.

No, I was not a germiphobe…or being rude…I just don't know if he'd want my germs on him—numerous guys have told me not to let my hand touch them when they pass me something…

I know…such a guy-magnet, I am…

I dug around my bag before handing his binder to him and looking down again.

Scoffing, he headed back to his desk…chair…thing, beside me and I looked towards the teacher with a flaming face.

"Well, as I was going to say before Mr. Anderson interrupted me—,"

Did anyone else notice she didn't notice me come in like…a second before 'Mr. Anderson'?

"We are going to partner up and learn some things about our partner…the questions you ask are up on the board, and you have to make up three of your own," her eyes roamed the class, "You have to have different questions—no using your partner's questions," she glanced around the room with a hawk-like glare, "There's an even amount of students, meaning you all can do this," her eyes cut to Anderson…I've got to learn his first name…

Or maybe Anderson is his first name?

I'll never know…he's got to have friends…I mean, the teacher knows him…

I'll be stuck with the last person who has two friends in here who already partnered up and then that person will be all distant, giving me one word answers…and then when it comes to the three made-up questions, they'll steal mine…

Yeah, can you tell it's happened before?

Yeah, I'm full of win when it comes to the people thing…er…interaction.

When I continued sitting in my desk while everyone scrambled for their desired partner, I looked around the class. It was small-ish. Big enough for a few benches and a small stage, but that's about it.

You'd think they'd have a bigger stage for drama class.

"Alright, Anderson," the teacher's voice was crisp and cold, "You partner with-with-," she glared at me, "What is your name, child!" she snapped.

People snickered while I nearly died of humiliation and annoyance. "Rebecca Pandanski," I answered.

"I'm going to call you Becka," she said coolly.

"You'd think with a nickname, she'd say it nicer," Anderson muttered when the teacher left.

I badly concealed a snorting giggle with a cough and looked at my binder. I quickly wrote the questions down.

1: Name

2: Goal for the year

3: Age, birthday, etc.

4: Phone number

5: Favourite Movie

6: Favourite Song

7: Favourite brand (clothes, perfume, food, etc)

I could already tell this was going to link to a project somehow…great…

Make up three more questions? I thought for a while…

8: What's your favourite color?

9: What is your favourite time of day?

10: If you read, what's your favourite book?

I mentally answered my own questions:

Blue-just blue…not royal, sky or navy…just blue

Midnight on the weekend, evening during the week

Harry Potter series…

I looked at Anderson and he looked at me for a second before looking down at his paper, then mine and snorting.

Why did that piss me off so much?

I glared at him, despite my own warning bells telling me not to let it bug me so much. I wait for him to be done writing. And when he was, he looked at me sharply. "I'll go first," he said coldly.

"Okay," I eep'd, gave up easily and walked away with my tail between my legs—not really…but I think he got the idea that he could probably walk all over me.


"Full or first and last?" I asked back lamely.

"Either," he was annoyed already.

"Rebecca Charlotte Pandanski," I cursed myself for giving my whole name.

"Goal for the year."

"Keep blending in." If he wanted to be cold and uncaring, I'd be uncaring and cold…as much as I could…

Smirking at me slightly, he looked at his writing and looked back at me, "Age."

"17, December 24th," I winced at the mocking look.


I glared at my binder. "604 319 8384." I grumbled. (A/N: This is not my real number—I don't know if this is a real number-prank it for all I care)

"Favourite Movie, song, brand."

I had to think for a second. "Titanic, I'm On A Boat by The Lonely Island and my favourite brand is probably Nokia…" I waited for the jibe, but he remained silent. I was nervous about his last three questions.

"What's your favourite color, time of day and book?" he raised an almost invisible eyebrow.

I bristled. I knew it…I knew I should've gone first…

"Blue, just blue." My glare was evident; "I love midnight on the weekends and evenings during the week," I looked at the ceiling, "My favourite books are the Harry Potter books," I looked at him. "First seven questions are the same," I kind of snapped. I don't think I'd be able to pull off snapping at someone without it coming off as ridiculous.

"Anderson McCoy; actually pass this stupid class; I'm 18, my birthday is August 30th; 604 521 9937; favourite movie is old school Dracula; song is Break My Fall by Breaking Benjamin and brand is Hot Topic as a whole."

I coughed into my hand, "Poser," but I'm sure he…totally heard me… If the glare is anything to go by, at least. I made a 'Yeesh' look as I looked away. "Okay…um…if you could be called anything besides Anderson or McCoy, what would you want to be called?" I asked as I wrote it down.

"Chloe," he was sarcastic but I wrote that down.

"Alrighty, if we have to do a skit with these answers, you can be the girl," I replied before closing my eyes and swearing under my breath. I am usually not that vocal…in fact, the most I've said to anyone is 'I don't know where the science office is—he might' and then they were gone…

Yep, I'm that socially awkward.

"If you could be any animal, what would you be?"


"Sweet." I wrote his answer and my question down. "Between vampires and werewolves, what would you choose?" This question has nothing to do with Twilight…I'm not that big a fan of it.


"Alrighty," We finished and sat there, awkward.

"Okay, everyone should be done within five more minutes," the teacher called. "And McCoy…please have actually tried," she said softly as she passed.

"Tried?" he pretended, or acted, like that hurt, "I went first so she could think of questions!" he exclaimed.

I glared at him but remained silent. What an asshole…

But he was good.

When the teacher's eyes snapped to me, I purposefully looked away. I was not going to play along with his game. No matter how much I didn't like her glaring at me like that.

The rest of the class finished and the teacher was forced to look away from me. "Now…you are going to use the last three questions I gave you to organise a new commercial for the brand you picked…using a scene from the movie you like and the words from the song you like," she looked at everyone, "Only one of your answers can be used, however," she added.

Anderson gave me a really amused smile. My face turned red because I already had a skit from my answers in my head. It was so obvious. "Fuck."

Seriously…that's all I could say.

The bell rang and he stood, "I'll call ya," he winked and left.

I dropped my head onto my desk and groaned. When I picked my stuff up, I looked at the binder but found his binder…again! I opened my mouth to call him, but it was just me and Loren…er…Miss Loren…the teacher from hell…

Yeah…she has a name…

I quickly left before she could talk to me.

My next class was Biology 12. He wasn't in it. Damn…I could've given his binder back if he was.

We had to take notes. Fuuck…

I opened it to the first page to 'borrow' a piece or two of paper but stopped when I found a poem. Or lyrics…

I could never tell the difference between them…

I read it and couldn't help but stare at it intently for a little while. It was rather deep…and depressing…and also worrying.

The empty whiskey bottle bursts

Scattered shards

Scattered hopes

Clash of paw against flesh

Round scorches in my shirt

Burning hatred for you

Slick crimson

Sloppy clean up…

I had to make myself stop reading and make a mental note to watch his behaviour. And his arms… And shirts…

Anyways, I looked at the teachers notes and quickly jotted them down before he changed the slide.

When lunch finally rolled around, I sat in my art class with my sandwich and juice.

I'm just as awkward as last year…

I thought I changed some over the summer but I guess I was wrong.

"You still have my binder."

I winced.


Alrighty! There's the official first chapter! x3