Desmond

People say that I'm heartless.

Of course, no one has actually said it to me right in front of my eyes; they think that would equal social suicide and they were damn right. But even though the words were whispered in careful confidentiality, eventually it would reach my ears. It's inevitable.

These people. These students in St. Pulkeria, they just don't know when to stop talking.

I didn't know when all of these 'heartless' rumors started. Maybe I did something that made someone upset. Maybe I did hurt someone's feelings. I didn't know, nobody ever told me anything.

When I go to school, I don't see a place to study and learn manners. I see a place full of power-hungry hyenas. I see blood-sucking leeches and ass-licking goats. The whole place is a fricking jungle, and they see me as their King because they think I'm incapable of feelings.

Except August. He's different, that boy. He's probably the only person that considers me as a friend, and not as a benefactor.

It didn't take me long to figure out that I can do or say practically anything, and I can always get away with it just fine. Before long, I don't even need to search for company. They come to me in big herds, and they're never upset. No matter what I do, they never told me anything bad and keep everything under that mask of pursed smile.

But they would talk.

Yes, they always talk. They never stop. Ever.

Of course, they never bother to invite me to join their late-night phone calls or secret hangouts after the parties. They will smile and fawn over me at school. They will text me unnecessary things, and ask me to come to their parties. But they would always talk to each other, to everyone, aside from me. And these talks, these secrets, they matter the most.

It used to pain me; it used to keep me up all night. But my throat clenches whenever I try to confront them about it, and none of them ever attempted to talk to me. So, I figured, this is it. This is my place, and below me are theirs.

It's not like I should complain about it. Sure, there are all kinds of gossip and nasty rumors, but there are also adorations and envy. It's fair trade.

Being Desmond Arrington isn't so bad once you can manage to endure ever-constant pressure and solitude.

People say that I'm heartless, and they make me think that they are right.

Whatever.

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Chapter Three: The Rocky Road to the Prettyvile

Cassie's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she stared at the big door that loomed over her. The sign said 'Ping-Pong Room', but she never knew that St. Pulkeria has a Ping-Pong club, or students who would sacrifice their social standing by joining it.

"It's the Ping-Pong room," she said to her new companion Lucas Montgomery, a shady guy with ever-present smile that always looked like he's planning something mischievous.

"It's the Ping-Pong room," he confirmed.

Cassie's eyes got even smaller. She had every reason to distrust Lucas this time, and he knew that. Just about ten minutes ago he cornered her in front of the counselor's office and led her here. Up until now, she never knew that the school had this room, or an unused adjoined building on the west.

"Are you sure?" Cassie was still suspicious about it. Lucas' eyes had this twinkle that never went away. She hated looking at it.

Lucas went behind her and put both his hands on her shoulders. It made a loud thump. "I'm sure. I've texted everyone on our way here, so you can meet the fellow haters right away."

Cassie's upper lip curled, but she held her protest. At least she should see if whatever he was saying was true. She reached for the doorknob, but Lucas' hand caught it first.

"Let me see you first for a second," he said as he twirled her so that she was facing him. "Hmm..." Lucas' fingers probed on his chin as he stared at her intently. It had been going for half a minute already.

Cassie had the urge to squirm, after all she had never been comfortable around boys, especially the ones who invade her personal space, but she squared her shoulders and tried to appear nonchalant.

Sadly, though, her actions didn't go unnoticed by Lucas' trained eyes.

"Are you always blushing this easily?" he said, his gaze still gored to her.

"Believe me, it's not my favorite trait," Cassie said curtly.

"Well, you have to work on it, though," Much to her relief, Lucas straightened up and averted his gaze somewhere else. "Anyway, do you know that you have the potential to be, you know, super hot?"

Yet another crude question. She had never pondered if she was pretty. It was never her concern before. Sure, sometimes her girlfriends would compliment her, but Cassie knew that they weren't sincere, that they secretly hoped that she would compliment them back.

"I don't know... I never thought about it."

"I think you do," Lucas grinned. "You might need to lose some pounds and get loads of treatments here and there, but it's definitely possible."

It's probably the nicest thing a boy had said to her. Strange, though, Cassie's heart didn't start racing like she thought it would. Maybe it's the way he said it, like he had no ulterior motive behind his words.

"Now that you pass my inspection, let's meet the guys." Lucas opened the door in an exaggerated slow motion. He got in first, the people inside welcomed him gallantly, like he was a lost soldier who found his way back to his camp.

It was hard for Cassie to keep her composure. She drew a sharp breath, and then mustered her courage to take the first step inside. She'd seen some kids, but their faces were blurred because of the distance. Now that she could see them clearly, her heart took a sharp twinge.

There were a few nameless people that Cassie didn't know, probably some of them were 'Unseen, Unheard of', just like her. They huddled in the corner, most of them looked shy and harmless. But Cassie knew better, though. Never mess with nerds; their anger was the most lethal.

Some B-lister raised their eyebrows in acknowledgement upon seeing her. Most of them were guys. Probably these were the guys that felt bullied and humiliated by the school's King.

But then, there were also the Elites in this little secret club.

Cassie herself couldn't believe her eyes and had to take a double take. But her mind wasn't deceiving her. She did see Tyra van Gilder, aka Desmond's certified girlfriend for three months, sitting elegantly on a Ping-Pong table. Like always, she looked breathtaking. Her long auburn hair cascaded down her shoulder, her neck craned high, and a Manolo Blahnik was dangling on the tip of her amazingly long feet. Surrounding her were the pretty girls that belonged to her exclusive all-female gang.

Now, these were the people that she'd never expected to meet here.

"Guys, welcome our newest member, Cassie," Lucas did the deed and introduced her to everyone.

"And Cassie, this is the Haters. Not everyone is here, though." They all smiled and nodded at her, even Tyra. Cassie's mouth parted in surprise, this kind of social phenomenon hadn't happened before. These were all the people from all social statuses; all gathered here in this room and all only had one united purpose.

"The first rule, Cassie," Lucas gave her a sideline glance, "is we're not bound by the Social Pyramid in this room."

Suddenly, a strange sense of giddiness crept inside her.

This, Cassie decided instantly, was the place she knew she would belong.

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"The second rule is we have to help each other."

The Haters came from various people from various backgrounds. Here, they got typical nerds and geeks, the lowest in the caste. They all fumed silently and their job was the easiest: spreading stories to teachers that Desmond wasn't a good person, creating web rumors, things that were harmless.

Then, there were the bitter sophomores and juniors. Most of them were Stupid Jocks, and the total IQ of all seven of them was probably still less than 100 points. Their job was to 'accidentally' knock on Desmond in every chance they got.

Needless to say, they hadn't been very successful, since apparently Desmond had good reflexes, thanks to all those years honing his body from private self-defense classes and soccer.

The guys with special priveleges had their own ideas for a prank. Heather, for example, was the daughter of the cooks in St. Pulkeria. She and her mother always made sure that Desmond and the Gang got the lowest quality of vegetables and such.

Phoebe, the librarian, always messed her list up when Desmond borrowed a book from the school library. As of now, it was noted that he owed the school five books and a set of expensive encyclopedias.

But these were the petty pranks. The big leagues were actually the ones that came from the A-List. They were the ones who could actually score on hurting Desmond, and their job was the hardest: to keep an eye on him, and to feign adoration whenever he was around.

Tyra van Gilder kept her gaze at Cassie as Lucas's mouth moved incessantly near her ear. At some times, Lucas would give a sideline glance to Cassie, and they would nod together in unison.

Tyra's girlfriends flocked around her, all of them weren't being exactly subtle as they stared and whispered things that involved her name. Cassie pursed her mouth, trying to feel as comfortable as she could. She seriously felt like a sacrificial virgin being sold over.

Finally, their esoteric meeting was over. Lucas left the girl group and approached Cassie. A devilish smile tugged on his lips. "You work hard, Kitty Cat, you will need to impress the Ice Queen."

As soon as he was out of her sight, Cassie knew she was in deep shit. Her mouth quivered as she was met straight on with the perilous glare of the Ice Queen. Tyra held their eye-contact long enough to make normal people fumble, but Lucas had given her a little tip. Tyra was testing her, studying her strength, and Cassie wasn't going to disappoint her. Cassie met her glare straight on and although her stomach twisted like crazy, her exterior remained steely.

She won the staring-contest, because Tyra was the first to break the contact and proceeded to saunter towards her. Cassie inhaled sharply. Here comes the Queen.

"Cassie," Tyra's voice was cold, and her smile frigid. Tyra wasn't exactly known as a very friendly woman, after all.

Cassie managed to release a small smile. "Hi, Tyra, didn't expect you to be here."

"Likewise."

The reply came faster than Cassie expected, and it was somehow maddening. Cassie tried to keep her cool, however, and played it nice. "So, do all of your girlfriends know you secretly hate your boyfriend?"

Tyra scowled. "The new ones don't, I only trust these sweethearts," she draped her arms around her three companions, all of them beamed brightly with a hint of pride. "You're part of the club, but you're new. I don't trust you."

The attack was head on, but Cassie swallowed it with grace. It was amazing how numbed her heart was after two full weeks feeling nothing but misery. "I should say the same, you're Desmond's girlfriend, after all."

Cassie hadn't meant her words to be cold, but apparently, she sounded callous even to her own ears. Tyra's hazel eyes glinted, she swept down her thick lashes, a small smile formed on her lips. "And you're the weak-willed girl that he screws and throws away the next hour."

This information sent Cassie a flinch. For two weeks, she was already used of people not knowing her little fling with Desmond Arrington. Apparently, most people didn't know anything, only the important ones within his inner circle did.

"Still, you're the girlfriend that he cheated on," Cassie retorted. "Numerous times." The old Cassie would have never done this, but the old Cassie never experienced agonizing pain. And besides, in this room, everyone was equal. Cassie felt like she was in par with anyone here, even with the Queen Bee of the St. Pulkeria.

Tyra scrutinized her; her thick-lashed eyes were narrowing disapprovingly. She and her friends interchanged knowing glances, and after that, the corners of her lip-glossed mouth tipped into a smile. "Lucas' right this time. You do have potential."

"Eh?"

Before Cassie could register her words, Tyra and her friends simultenaously got a grab of her body, and then, with full force, dragged her out of the room. Cassie wringed her limbs, but it was of no use; four girls with fitness subscription would outpower her no matter what. They staggered her to the bathroom, and once they got there, they stripped Cassie off her clothes, totally ignoring her detrimental screeches.

Now Cassie was only in her underwear. In a bathroom. With four extra pretty girls staring and commenting on her body. What made the situation worse was how dead-serious they were about it.

"You need to extra exercise on the tummy," the blond one pinched her flabby stomach, "I can show you how, it's only 600 crunches every night."

Even the sound of it was enough to make Cassie gag.

"And the arms, too," another one was tugging at it, "I have extra weights at home, I can give you some."

"The hair needs to have a wave."

"Skin is good, but a touch of blush on would be nice."

"This kind of make up-"

"Oh, and your body is pear-type, so-"

Cassie's head nearly exploded with all these new feminine information. She'd never bothered taking these much extra care of her body before. As long as she didn't smell bad and looked decent, she was good to go. Obviously, these girls didn't think the same.

Cassie shot a pleading look to Tyra, but the Ice Queen only waggled her eyebrows in amusement. She didn't take part with all the pinching and tugging, but she was devouring every minute of it gleefully.

"Do I really need to do it?"

The look at Tyra's face made Cassie felt like she had just asked the stupidest question in the century. "Of course, Marshmallow," Tyra drawled. Great, five minutes and she already gave her a nickname. "If you're going to sit at my table next month, you need to look fabulous."

Cassie blinked. "Sit... at your table?"

Tyra nodded, the amusement never left her face. Cassie's eyes were wide, her heart beating hard. She wasn't sure if it was because she was nervous or excited. All of her life she had been watching these kids from a prison called social-status, and now she was going to join them. If this offer came three months ago, she would flat out refuse. But three months ago, Desmond never made a move on her, and three months ago, she wasn't filled with this much hatred.

"It's Lucas' idea," Tyra said. "Whatever. Sometimes he gets crazy. Now where's your iPod?"

"Skirt pocket," Cassie answered absent-mindedly. Lucas wanted her to be one of the Elite? But why? Cassie thought that she would have yet another peaceful place with the nerds and geeks. But Lucas thought ahead, giving her a place high enough for her to actually do something.

Tyra rummaged through her uniform and withdrew Cassie's iPod4. She checked the music, sweeping her fingers through the screen. It only took one second before Tyra's pretty mouth curled in distaste. "Seriously, I thought you listen to better music than this metal crap."

Cassie was offended. The songs might not venture more than incomprehensive screaming, but they did help her get over her heartbreak. "It's not my fault if todays top 40 don't catch my interest."

"At least try the cool indie music. Don't you know that this kind of music can ruin your status? When you get home later, trash these garbage and fill it with the billboards."

Cassie mentally groaned.

"And what are you doing with a Sony Ericson?" Tyra held Cassie's battered flip-phone with the tip of her index and thumb, as if it was something repulsive. "Go buy yourself an Apple, then you can have social life."

Cassie inhaled deeply, her patience was thinning. The other three girls kept poking and jabbing at her body, pointing out every flaw in her diet and giving out recommendations to successful weight-loss. At the end, they helped Cassie buttoned back her uniform and gave her a bottle of pills.

"Weight loss pill," the Blond (Cassie found out that her name was Sandra) said. She grinned, baring a set of straight teeth. "Take it twice a day. Combine with diet and exercise and in 30 days, you'll be the perfect weight."

Which is underweight, Cassie almost added, but repressed herself. The girls' morals might be questionable, but there was no doubt that they genuinely tried to help her.

At the end of the inspection, Tyra gave Cassie a list of what she should and should not do while trying to lose weight. The list also included some stores she would need to check out. There was a deadline, which was exactly twenty-eight days from now.

"Twenty-eight day is very lenient, Marshmallow," Tyra said through her tight-lipped smile, her expression was lethal. "So don't you dare bailing out."

Noticing the intent of murder from the girls, Cassie really didn't have any other option.

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After school, Cassie trudged on the schoolyard before going to the parking lot. Some guys had football practice on the field, and Cassie could spot a familiar blond running through the field. His loud voice sounded faint in distant. Cassie sighed wistfully. She missed August and his endearing actions, she missed talking to him.

Cassie felt someone crashed on to her shoulder. It was Sandra, the blonde companion. Cassie tried saying hello at her, but she didn't spare her even as much as a glance. She ran past her, to a shiny pink gold convertible. Tyra was the one driving.

Tyra's eyes lingered at Cassie for a second, before then she welcomed Sandra with a kiss on each cheek. Cassie's fingers wiggled, she was itching to greet her, but before Cassie could flip up her hand, someone caught her.

"Don't," Lucas' voice was stern, though his mouth was smiling. Cassie looked at him, confusion filled her mind.

"We might be equal when we're inside the club, but outside, the labels are re-stamped on our forehead," Lucas said, his perpetual smile never fading. "We need to make sure that Desmond thinks everyone is in their place."

Cassie rolled her eyes. Again, with the ridiculous rule. She glanced at the field the second. August was sprinting, cheers trailing behind him. In the middle of the field was Desmond. His presence was strong, even though the spotlight wasn't on him. People might be cheering for August, but they all noticed him.

And Desmond's gaze was at her direction.

Imperceptibly, Cassie flipped a thumb towards Desmond's direction. "If you're so keen at keeping your place, why do you talk to me openly?"

"You and me are special case, Cass. Desmond assigned me to keep an eye on you."

Cassie gaped.

"Don't flatter yourself, Marshmallow," Lucas hit her arm jokingly. Seemed like her new nickname had circulated quite fast. "It's just a habit he has with his leftovers. He asks us to keep tab on them. You're not special."

Ouch. A leftover. So that's how Desmond associated her with. Cassie put a hand on her chest. "Yeah, and you can be kinder with your choice of words."

"I'm not going to be kind to you, and I think you shouldn't be kind to others as well," Lucas' tone plunged into a sudden serious note. "If you're going up to the A-list, the last thing you need is a working heart."

Cassie's smile was wry as she eyed Lucas. Yes, as ironic as it sounded, it might be true. Things get nastier up there, and being sensitive would only make things harder than it should be. "Believe me, after I'm done with Tyra's routine, all that's left of me is just skin and bones and nothing else."

That made Lucas laugh; he tapped her on the shoulder as he walked away. Cassie watched his back retreating. She hadn't properly thanked him, but she knew she didn't have to. Lucas didn't seem like a person who needed words.

Cassie inclined her head, towards the football field. The cool preppy people were all running around and some more athletic ones chatted happily with each other. On the bleachers were their hangers-on, waiting to be noticed. Then Cassie turned away, observing the 'normal' students, all ready to go home, all wearing the same jaded expressions their faces.

Had the gap between each group always been this large?

Cassie smiled, and shook her head lightly. She had backups now, and she wouldn't stop now before she got what she wanted. Watch out, St. Pulkeria, you're going to witness the biggest leap of social-caste in the history!

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Hey hey hey. Thanks for reading the story. Haha, and I know this story is like, really cliche and really crazy. But yeah. I like it. For those who are reading The Quirky Tale of April Hale, update's coming tomorrow, most probably. :) Please don't advertise in my story (although right now, with the amount of reads this story is getting, I doubt it's an ideal place to advertise. Meh), it's really rude. And thank you so much for reading. I almost forgot that I've said if before, but I was overcome with a lot of gratitude, so I had to type it again. Thank you, thank you!