Took me two hours finishing this, I hope it's worth it! Anyway, enjoy! With a cup of tea, or pizza, or just plainly water. 

ღღღღღღღ

Chapter 3 - I Forgot || Cassidy's POV

"Wait for me!" My voice echoes the parking lot as I run towards my friends, who ditches me every now and then. And to take note, it's just the first day of school.

I see them looking back at me as they realize their mistake.

"I can't believe that we almost left you!" Clarissa says, face-palming herself. She is biting her left cheek and I can tell that she's guilty about it.

I look at Reese with a glare as if I have laser eyes so I can burn him. "Yeah, thank you for reminding Clarissa, Reese," I says as I opened the front seat door and went in.

"You're very welcome," Reese smiles happily as he eats some of his junk food. I'm seating beside the driver seat and Reese is sitting behind us so I have to turn around and look at the delicious smelling food. 

"Give me some!" I reach for him and grabbing some for myself.

"No." He scowls at me. I can hear his mouth chunking the crispy food as the smell lingers in the closed-window car. I realize how much of a friend Reese is. First, ditching a friend more than once. Secondly, sharing food. I mean, I know how boys love their food, but sometimes, food can't tell you advises that only a friend can. Friend is better than food, right?

"Yes," I say, more like order.

"No," Reese snobs.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Why not?"

"You're a monster." Okay, if anyone said that to me, I'd be angry, but let's face it, that's what friends are for right? They insult you without you getting offended. It's better for my friends to insult me in my face rather than in my back.

"I'm not," I defend. I am far away from the description of monster. First, I am a human being like anyone else around me. Secondly, I have a DNA like a normal human being. Third, it's enough proof I am NOT a monster.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Well, you are."

"Hey, Clarissa! You're not supposed to be teaming up with Reese." I resist the urge to slap Clarissa's arms or any part of her body since she is focusing on driving.

"Well, considering the way you act around them, you are." Clarissa smirks. The thought of them makes my head ache. 

Then I remembered something. Oh neon pink bathtub no. 

The thought of enjoying some nap and probably some shower at home has been ruined.

"Holy Crap, I mean - crab! Clarissa! Take me back to school, now!" I say alarmingly, remembering I have to 'clean' the art class. I take my bag who lazily sits on the floor and put the straps on my left arm. On the right hand, I take hold of the handle of the car and readily open it if the car stops.

Clarissa looks at me weirdly as if I just prefer going back to school rather than staying at my comfort home. "Huh? Why?" she asks but turned around anyway. I narrow my eyes to the road, hopefully making this car move faster if it was possible.

"Ha! Cass forgot that she has cleaning to do," Reese says and puts out his tongue, how immature. I just ignore Reese and accept my defeat. I slope down the seat and watch the roads passby quickly. I take one last look on Reese who sits comfortably at the back. 

Suddenly, the car was put into halt. Clarissa unlocks the doors and says, "Here. Now go!"

That's exactly what my friends are for. How wonderful.

"Bye!" I say and run as fast as I can to the art class. The hallways are free from crowds since people either go somewhere to gather or they are at the cafeteria because we all know how much food means to us.

I run as fast as I could, seeing the clsssrooms pass by me as fast as the houses did when Clarissa took me to school this morning.

I find myself panting before I open the art class door. I was surprised when I opened the very artistic and colorful door and saw six boys standing and just looking at the mess.

"Messy," Josh comments.

I look at them with wide eyes as I try to catch my breath. I seriously need more exercise. And better friends. Just kidding, I love my friends just fine.

I guess they didn't notice me open the door because they were too busy to adapt the environment around us. Chairs have been turned around and paint is everywhere. I could see why they couldn't hire one janitor; they would probably need more than three to clean this mess. Or shall I say, seven students to clean it all up.

I take in the surrounding and the silence filled the air. "So, where do we get our cleaning stuffs?" I ask, trying to interrupt their silence. I was surprised that they are even here. They all look at me with surprising looks. Once I saw their faces, all of them have solemn looks, as if they were trying to escape but the Principal caught them and blackmailed them even to clean this mess.

One word, Karma.

"It's there. There are two mops and three sponges," Josh informs me while pointing out behind the mess. I observe his face and see a faint color of lipsticks on his neck, probably had a kissing scene with Stella. Hopefully no one witnessed it, or it will forever scared their innocent minds.

"The others would probably pick up the brushes and stuffs," Xavier adds. We all nod to each other, feeling the awkward moment around us. Normally, we fight each other. I don't think that will be the case right now, because at this moment, we should be working together. Ew, that doesn't sound nice. Me and them? But I really want to end this whole thing so I can go back to my warm bed and relax.

"Let's start!" I say enthusiastically. Of course, it's all sarcasm. I grab one of the mops and hand the other one to Nick. The others grab the sponges and the others pick up the mess on the ground.

I start mopping at the front while Nick on the back. After a few minutes has passed, I can feel my arms getting tired as I realize that I don't exercise enough. My arms move forward then backward, trying to clean the dirty floor.

I wipe the sweat on my forehead as I try to concentrate on removing the paint stain on the floor. What are the students even doing on art class? Freestyle paint? Decorating the room?

"Ew, what's this?" Nick's dark voice echoes the silent room. I look at him and see a disgusting look on his face while pointing out a sticky paint that's color pink. Well, that's manly of him. Maybe Nick got that expression and bad choices of words such as 'ew' from his girlfriends.

Jack moves closer to him and looks at the paint carefully. "I don't think that's even paint." Jack furrows his eyes as he takes closer look. He shakes his head and turns away from the disgusting view.

Good thing the paint they used isn't that bad. I take a deep breath and start cleaning again. 

"Disgusting," I murmur while removing the thoughts of more disgusting things to find here. The guys all look at me and mimic me saying, "Yucks." "Gross." "Ew." And a lot more. I just rolled my eyes at them and went back to working.

I look around trying to find some electric fan to open but there's nothing. The windows are open but only hot air is getting in. It's getting hot and I can feel sweat coming from my head so I remove my silver jacket revealing my sleeveless shirt.

I heard some wolf whistles and I glared at them and putting one finger on my neck and moving it to the right, showing a death sign. Their eyes got wide and went back to working. This is so not my day.

I roll me eyes, again, and mop the floor.

I count to three for incoming insults...

One. Why can't the kids clean the room since they ruined it anyway?

Two. I mean, this can be serve as discipline to them since Mr. Ricarpo assigned this task to us.

I squeeze the mop on its container filled with water as it cleans and start moping again.

Three.

"It looks good on you. Try to wear more girly clothes," Xavier comments, not looking at me because he is too concentrated on removing the stain.

I search around the table and found a pencil. I smile evilly and point at him, Xavier being so innocent of me doing these things because he's busy cleaning, I shot him the pencil and it hit at the back of his head. 

I hear him curse so loudly and I chuckle silently. That was a pencil. I heard stories of him punching other guys, a pencil thrown at him shouldn't hurt that much.

The guys all turn around to ask Xavier what happened while I nonchalantly go back to working, trying to be innocent like Cinderella, you know, just mopping here and there. They're probably thinking that I don't care what happened to them - which is true. But at the same time, I want to know if it really hurts Xavier much more than I want to so he can feel the pain.

I take a small glance at Xavier and see him murmur something I can't understand then the boys just nod their heads and go back to work quietly.

After three long, quiet, and peaceful minutes, I start getting suspicious on how come nothing bad is still happening. I look at the guys and noticed that they were all holding a paintbrush and paint on the other hand. They must have noticed my eyes getting wide so they threw the paint at me, leaving me very colorful and my hair sticky. This . . . is a game that children's play. 

Not. 

People. 

Like. 

Me.

I can feel fire in my head as I scream and shout at them to stop but they didn't listen. I wished for a miracle to let them freeze so I can just attack them back with much hatred I have bubbled up inside. Since no one was here to help me, I grab the nearest paint I see which is black and a big paintbrush and splash it back to the boys. The joke is on you guys.

We started having a 'Paint fight' as what the Principal would say or 'adding our outfits more colors' as what the boys would say. We all went to halt as the Principal asked us what is going on and we all turned at him and saw that he has blue, red, and yellow paint on his very clean white shirt which is now dirty, or 'colorful and happy colors' as what the boys would say as Mr. Ricarpo lectures them on telling their parents about what happened, a.k.a., the blackmail.

I'm glad that I take no part of destroying the principal's shirt with proof of no black stain on it.

We were lectured at the art class for twenty-six minutes and fifteen seconds, I counted, and then we all went back to cleaning. I wonder if Mr. Ricarpo has lots of secrets that he didn't tell the parents about what's happening with their kids like right now.

Mr. Ricarpo shakes his head and walks away from us.

The boys laugh out loud as the Principal is now nowhere in sight. I couldn't help but form a smile on my lips. I haven't had as much fun as this since I was little. I admit, it was pretty immature but I didn't have much fun as a kid like the other kids usually.

My parents are never home and I got no one to play with when I was little. I just kept on studying and studying to reverse my attention from getting more affection from my parents. Until now, I still do that but less studying because Clarissa and Reese said that I needed to have a 'break' and have some 'fun' which I do not understand because all we did was watch movies and build tree houses. Now, I slowly realize what fun is about. Maybe breaking the rules a little bit would excite more the fun but this was totally not me. Nope, Cassidy Jones definitely is not a bad girl who ruins her reputation before she leaves the school. She just saves other people's lives from these bad guys. Like superwoman. Or cat woman. I should get an award rather than being here, doing the punishment that I don't deserve.

"Get back to work." I shot them a glare, I was half-serious and half-not as I remembered how much fun we had, but I also wanted to go home as soon as possible. I can feel the stickiness on my clothes as I mop the floor. The smell was awful and it smells worse since my shirt is full of sweat and paint.

I tell myself that this is exactly what they would do and this is something I get angry about because the act was a proof of being rowdy.

This is the first and last time I am messing up. This is all because of them.

We finished after three hours; it could have been less if it weren't for the paints that we added. We were in serious mode, just less talking about anything. I didn't talk for the entire time since I was still furious at them.

"Spotless," Asher comments. I notice that Asher is a quiet guy, but when he speaks, it's concise. We all, miracolously, agreed as we enjoyed the work we have done. I look at their faces for the first time in three hours that I avoid them and I couldn't help but smile a little. There are still paint on our faces but we all just laughed it out, another miracle. For a moment, they weren't the bad people or the bullies, but they're people who helped me finish cleaning the room and looked like kids with paint everywhere on them.

We probably look like dirty homeless people in a five star hotel. Well, it feels that way as we are standing on a clean art classroom.

You know that feeling of great accomplishment of something you really worked hard for? This is exactly it. All my pride dusted off as I worked hand in hand with them but knowing how my sweat and muscles cleaned a used-to-be-dirty art class that has been transformed in front of me. Just pure proud.

Never in a million years have I thought of having fun with them. As I turn around and fixing my things, I didn't say any goodbyes at them, remembering what they have done to the other poor kids.

I wore my jacket again, trying to cover the ruined shirt and text Clarissa if she can pick me up from school while I was walking towards my locker.

I feel the vibration on my pocket which meant someone texted me - hopefully Clarissa- as I reached my locker. I open my lock and put all of my things inside before opening the text as my bag filled nothing but homework and my water bottle.

17:06. Clarissa: Oh no, I forgot, sorry Cassy! I had to babysit Lucas today because Mom went out to the grocery. Can't you ask someone else? I'm so sorry!!!! 

I read three times what Clarissa texted me. 

This can't be happening.

I can't walk home alone at this time, it's dark already! Now I'm not so glad of Clarissa replying me back.

I groan a bit too loud. This is bad. First, my morning started with almost crashing a cat. Secondly, I got caught with the Principal. Third, Values class was bad because of certain someone. Fourth, I hate art class now. I can go on and on but my brain is too dead. I massage my temples, waiting for a miracle. I really need this miracle more than a while ago. Please please please help me, all the gods above.

As if my luck was getting any better, someone taps my shoulders. Scared of the thought anyone was here since school closed two hours ago, I slowly turn around and found myself facing with Connor.

"Oh," I say, remembering that I was with them alone at school. My face is emotionless as I remember that I'm not friends with them. I give him a questioning look and tap my foot, acting like I'm impatient and I don't want to waste my time talking to him.

"Do you .... uhm... have a ... ride ... home?" he asks as if not wanting to know my answer.

I can sense that he is nervous which makes me also nervous of what he was doing right now. Then I thought of what he asked me and it makes me narrow down my choices of getting home. 

"N-no," I sat sadly, seeing his scared face reminds me of kids with the same looks when I'm showing my bad sides. 

I can't keep up with this strict look with them as I'm tired of cleaning the art room for more than three hours and I smell bad and I've wanted to sleep in my bed hours ago.

"Want me to ride ... you home?" he asks while wincing his left eye every time he paused talking.

I look at him for how many seconds and ending cracking up with an evil laugh. He must kidding me. Is he bipolar or something? For all I know he's nothing but mean then he turns into a caring person. Maybe this is a trick.

"I can't believe it . . . Are you scared of... me?" I ask him as I wipe a tear that has escaped from my right eye.

The hallway is quite dark and quiet, only the two of us in this lonely place.

"N-no. I was just asking you, but if you don't want to, you can just say no. You don't have to laugh at me," he says, furrowing his eyes. Then he turns and starts to walk away.

I started getting worried on how I can get home at this time. But then, Connor offered me a ride. But I can't really trust him since I don't know what he can do to me. I mean, who knows where he's going to bring me. He might even hurt me and have his revenge after all the things I have done to him. That is a lot of revenge to do since I did do a lot of bad things to him. 

But still, chances are he's a nice guy, I think. No, erase that, he's not a nice guy. But he offered me to get a ride home, he wouldn't ask that if he wasn't concerned, right? Maybe he's trying to get my good side. Every bad person at least has a tiny good personality, right? But-- Oh, enough with the buts.

I have to convince myself that he is a good person because I don't know what to do if I didn't. I know self-defense anyway in case he might hurt me.

"Wait!" I shout, I can hear my voice echoing the whole silent hallway.

Connor turns back at me and I cleared my throat. Well, this is awkward as I'm begging for his offer that I just rejected.

"I... accept.. your... uh.. offer," I say as I walk towards him. I can feel my legs dragging to him, not really wanting to go with him but I don't trust walking alone in the dark.

He raises his eyebrows as if asking for something more.

"What?" I ask him, not understanding him. It's not like we're telepathic.

"What's the magic word?" Connor says, refraining from smirking at me.

I stand there dumbfounded. What?! No, no, no. My pride is way too high to say the magic word to a person like him.

"Com'mon. I need to get going," he says, tapping his feet while watching his watch. This is part of the revenge, I knew it!

How can I ever thought of him being so caring and not ask something back? Like, taking away what I have dearly.

I imagine doing all the possible things to him that would end him up in the hospital.

But then, I figured out that I did a long way of accepting his offer. I need to get over with this pride. I took a deep breath and out.

"Puh ..." I clear my throat, I can feel my pride slowly disappearing. 

He looks at me expectantly. "--Lease?" I say with a slight of unsure on my voice.

There was a moment of silence. A silence that might have killed me slowly as I am vulnerable right now in front of my enemy.

After a very long time, Connor stares at me with a indescribable on his eyes and nods at me. He signals me to follow him towards his car.

His car, although I know it would be something very expensive, still caught me off guard. There stood a C250 Coupe, a black Mercedes Benz. I stood in awe, trying to admire the view.

"It's really nothing compared to others," Connor mutters as he went inside his car.

I'm debating myself whether I should sit at the backseat or at the front seat. I don't want to be killed because Connor was sitting beside me when I'm at the front seat. But I also don't want Connor to feel bad, although as much as I wanted him to be, because he offered me a ride home. I mean, maybe he's a nice guy compared to the others. I hope. Cass, remember to think positive.

"You can sit at front," Connor says, sensing that I am confused at the moment. I slowly slid into the front seat and admired the car. "As long as you don't puke at it," he adds.

I shot him a glare and punch him in the arms like I always do when I'm with Reese. Well, except this is Connor. And he said it after I sat on the chair with my dry-paint and sweaty clothes.

He chuckles as if it was nothing but I can see that his arm is a bit red, too much for being a macho boy. I can feel myself getting a little bit embarrass as not expecting his reaction of fighting me back. I'm used to guys talking back at me, so why hasn't he fight back? Are you even Connor? I take hold of my bag more carefully as I put it close to my chest.

"Where to?" he asks, interrupting my thoughts. I gives him directions to my house, left, straight, keep going straight, right, on this corner, straight, left, left, that's it.

The car ride was not as bad as I thought. I was giving him directions but he kept making a mistake. It's whether there's a problem with his ears or he just wanted to irritate me which definitely is working. I'm thinking the latter one. I'm sure that my directions are clear and it's not complicated.

"Thanks," I murmur and quickly open the door. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I heard the engine went on and drove off quickly. I sigh as I smell the fresh air of my house.

I just rolled my eyes of the thought that I just had a ride home from one of the hottest guy in school, Clarissa's words not mine, which she would describe that he has six-pack and goes to gym every morning. Clarissa would be so jealous if she knew I took a ride with one of her crushes. Ha, take that for not giving me a ride.

I open the doors, revealing Mom giving me a worried look and asking me what took me so long to go home. Surprised to see Mom was home tonight, I can see that she's very tired from work. More tired than I am, but I have dirtier clothes so that makes us equal.

I told her that I'm fine and said that there was a Biology group project and some of the things exploded that's why there are colors everywhere my hair and clothes. I added that it was not that harmless and there was a teacher with us but just went to the bathroom when things got exploded but it is now all okay.

She just nodded at my story, wanting to believe me even though she can tell my lie but probably tired to ask more questions. I bit my lip, feeling guilty and went upstairs.

Maybe mentioning Mom about why I am under the Principal's hands and getting grounded was worse than I thought before entering this house after all.

ღღღღღღღ

a u t h o r ' s   n o t e : 

Chapter three done ... wohoooo!

The picture above is Connor's car, love or hate?

Did you guys like this chapter? Feel free to comment down your thoughts or criticisms. And if you're feeling generous, you can press the Vote button! You don't have to pay anything or go on a survey, it's just a click and it's free! :) 

P.S. Lächeln, das! (German of SMILE!)

 :) 

"A smile is a curve that sets everything straight." - Phyllis Diller