4| Round Two

"Your self-worth is determined by you. You don't have to depend on someone telling you, who you are."

~Beyoncé, AKA Queen, need I say more?

Cecilia || Todd

I couldn't find it in me. I just couldn't do it. For some bizarre reason, I couldn't give the pictures of Todd Fletcher in. I just couldn't sell him out like that.

I don't even know why. It's not even like I had a heart of gold and this perfectly functioning moral compass which made me not betray people because that violated society's code of conduct. It wasn't like that at all. Trust me; the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz has more of a heart than me.

But for some odd reason, I couldn't send one photo to my aunt's boyfriend. All I did was back-up the photo and do nothing about it.

Weird. This boy was driving me nuts.

I shrugged and slung over my school bag and walked towards my car. It was new; I'd just bought it a couple of months ago because I used to always just tag along with Renée, who'd always drop me to school no matter what. Now, because that clearly wasn't an option, mom got me one. Also, it was a pity gift for what happened over the summer. It had just come back from the repair store this morning, orders from my oh-so influential dad.

Yeah, like a new car could ever make up for the fact that my own parents weren't with me when I needed them the most. Like a new car could ever make up for the fact that my friendship had just gone in a heartbeat.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining or anything. It's just that I didn't like the fact that no one understood me. No one listened to me rant anymore. No one was there for me when I cried into my pillow for two months straight. No one was there for me when I walked into school with tear-stained eyes. Even my own ex-boyfriend didn't know. In fact, he broke up with me because he thought I'd cheated on him and was feeling bad about it.

God, Todd was right, Ashton was an Ash-hole.

I heard the satisfying click of my keys as I began to drive off, my hair blowing in the wind. My convertible made me look like a movie star, and I did nothing to tarnish that image.

I'm sorry, were you looking for a girl who acted like she didn't know she was pretty with her big doe eyes and her innocent expressions as she constantly vied for unadulterated attention? You've come to the wrong place, sweetheart.

Self-love is the best love, really. Many people in the world blame people who are narcissistic and call them self-obsessed, quote unquote. But at the same time, they judge them for being under confident. If only people found it within themselves to love themselves and know that their own opinion was the only thing that mattered, depression rates would be a lot less in the world. If people stopped focusing on all the negative remarks that every other bitch threw their way, they'd realize how important they were to this world.

I hate society with a passion. I'm not sure whether I was clear about that before, but I do. A lot.

I parked the car and walked into school, my usual aloof expression drawn across my face. Let people stare, they'd do it anyway. Their stares just meant that I was something watched. Never mind the fact that they were judging me. They recognized me for who I was. Cool, calm, calculating.

Definitely not someone who was breaking on the inside.

"Sweetheart, hi!" yelled a voice, and I resisted the urge to groan.

I turned around and faced Naomi Waters with a similar fake expression on my mask. "Nay-Nay, how are you, babe?" I said, the words coming out like venom.

Yeah, she'd just been crawling over my (ex) boyfriend like an ant on an anthill. Pardon me for not feeling very friendly.

Naomi Waters was the resident Queen Bitch. See, that's the thing about our school. I'm not even going to boast about it; I was the most popular. I was just untouchable. All the drama, all the popularity crazes and the bitches and the usual drama- that happened under me. The so called social ladder? They were like tiers of a cake. If Naomi was the icing, I was the intricate chocolate shard at the top. While Naomi stuck to your fingers and fell apart, I held myself together and only melted later.

That's what I liked to imagine myself as. Someone who didn't crumble or fall apart. Someone who kept herself together and didn't allow the tiers to get to me; standing tall above it all.

Again, like I said before, I'm not self-obsessed. I've simply come to terms with who I am and have begun to appreciate myself for it. When you have no one who loves you anymore, you might as well fill up that empty gap with your own heart, the most precious one of them all.

"So basically," she said, twirling a blonde lock of hair around her delicate fingers, while loudly chewing bubblegum. A lot of people said she was your Typical Blonde, quote unquote. I hated that. There was nothing called a Typical Blonde. You were either blonde or you weren't. Having your attitude become based off of your hair color was ridiculous. "I was like talking to Ash, and he was all like he misses you and stuff but like he knows you're gonna come back to him, so like what do I tell him?"

"Tell him I'm a hundred percent over, this time?" I said, not knowing what Naomi had to do with this entire scenario. "And also tell him to talk to me himself, rather than have some random middleman."

"Oh, sweetie," she said, throwing her head back. "I'm not random, am I?"

I chose to ignore that, and I began walking towards my locker. Suddenly, my phone beeped, and I looked down at it. No one really texted me. It was probably Ashton or something.

I looked at it and for a minute I had a heart attack. It was myself.

Except obviously, my other phone. The one that Todd had seemingly hacked into.

You won Round One. But there are always three rounds to a battle, right? ;)

I frowned. What was he talking about? More importantly, how did he guess my code?

Get off of my phone, Fletcher. How did you get in?

Lucky guess. Christmas Eve, though? Why?

It was Renée's birthday, that's why.

I don't know. That's not the point. What are you talking about?

Hmm... did you know you have a particularly scandalous photo at a party, looking totally out of it? As easily as you can turn me in, I can ruin your perfect-girl rep. Look who won Round 2, Pascal.

My eyes widened. Of course I remembered that photo. I'd gotten into a weird fling-thing in June, just a little before the Summer Incident.

His name was Finn. He was funny, and light hearted. He was two years older than me and had a wicked sense of humor. We met at Starbucks, and I'd caught his calculating gaze from across the store and cocked my head to the side, and he just unabashedly stared back before winking lightly and getting up, and sitting right in front of me. I was taken aback by his brashness. He just proceeded to launch straight into conversation about the most bizarre things. Next thing you know, we were a thing.

I'd love to have everyone abuzz with newly found drama by saying that the picture at the party was after some horrific incident. That's the label for parties, isn't it? A disaster in the making. No, that's not why this picture was taken.

The picture was taken by Renée, because we were having a fight. I'd just gotten really drunk at the party, and Finn and I were lost in our own worlds. We were both wearing our swimwear; mine a skimpy bikini that covered nothing. I'm not generally a scanty dresser. I'd just decided to let loose for one night.

Obviously, it was a bad idea.

We cannonballed into the hot tub and I ended up scraping my toe, and it bled. Finn was really drunk as well, so he picked up my toe and licked it.

I know. I was really grossed out as well, after I got over my terrible hangover the next day.

And Renée, who was pissed off because I'd blown off our sleepover for this dumb party, took pictures the entire night. She wanted to get back at me by showing me that I'd regret not hanging out with her. Her sixth sense, quote unquote, told her that it was a bad idea. The pictures were a way of her saying I told you so.

I'd dumped it into my trash but never had the heart to empty out the contents. The fact that Todd Fletcher had looked through my trash...

Screw you. Get lost. Please bury yourself and never come out. Bye.

I was seething. There was a lot of personal information that I'd rather not have in the hands of Todd Fletcher. I curled my hands into fists and proceeded to walk to class. When there was nothing I could do about something, I preferred to not think about it. It just made things seem more hopeless and it made me feel more helpless.

We had first period math. I was groggy, because I'd slept at 1. I was usually a pretty quick sleeper, but last night I just couldn't find it in me to close my eyes. I just kept thinking about a particular menace of a green eyed boy I'd met.

I dumped my contents onto my regular table near the back of the class and groaned loudly, before covering my face with my hands. I was going to fall asleep. Right here in front of everyone. My so-called picture perfect reputation would be ruined, and I would sue our principal for it.

"Hi, is this seat taken?" came a friendly voice, and I whipped my head up to see a girl I'd never met before. She was a little dark skinned and had pretty, almond shaped eyes. Her black hair was tied up in a high ponytail and her teeth had braces on them. She had those adorable nerdy glasses perched on her nose and her smile was wide and adorned her full lips like a bateau.

"No," I said. Honestly, it probably was taken by some guy who subtly tried to get my attention because I was too intimidating to talk to, apparently. But I didn't really care. He could go find another seat, or he could fight it out with this new girl.

"Hi, I'm Arohi," the girl said, turning to me. "I'm new here. I just moved from India."

"Mhm," I mumbled, not really caring. I was too drained to even keep my eyes open, let alone hold up small talk with some random new kid who had way too much enthusiasm. "That's nice."

"What's your name?" she pressed, and I nearly snapped her head off. I wasn't usually this pissy. Sleep just meant a lot to me.

Stupid Todd Fletcher for writing on our stupid school walls.

"Cecilia Archer. Otherwise known as the untouchable upper class of the school who talks to no one."

Yeah, I said that out loud. I was very angry, and I didn't need friends. I had no time for commitments. I was too vulnerable to pour my heart out, only to have it broken again.

And run over.

"Oh," she said, wisely, before looking away. She then turned to me and shrugged. "So you're the socially awkward loner. I've read a lot about your type of character in books. You know, the one who usually shies away from attention?"

I whipped my head up and glared at her. It was, what Todd might have called, a smolder. She didn't even flinch, which was a little ego-pricking.

"Look here, what's-your-face. I'm literally at the top of the school. I'm not awkward or antisocial. I just don't want to associate myself with anyone in this shithole. I'm mad, I got practically no sleep last night and this psycho just stole my phone. I'm not here to discuss which traits I match. I'm here to get through this school day without dealing with people's crap."

Yeah, that was blunt. That was mean. That was a typical bitch move. Everyone hates me. I just did not give a damn.

Obviously, I wasn't some terrible person with a heart of stone. I was just tired and probably PMSing. I turned to see her expression, and she just looked thoughtful. Not hurt at all. Just staring straight ahead with a faraway look on her face. Usually, you could tell if a person had a look where they were daydreaming or if they were actually thinking. Her forehead was creased slightly and her nose was scrunched up, as if she was trying to figure out her later tactics.

Math droned along. I wasn't paying attention at all, but Henry had probably told everyone to cut me some slack for the next couple of weeks in return for my late night escapade. Thank God he did something. I practically ran out of class, only to walk straight into someone's chest.

"What the—" I began, and then I had to physically clamp my mouth shut to suppress my groan. I was unsuccessful, and the playful green eyes that I'd only been accustomed to for two days was already beginning to wear down on me. "Todd Fletcher. Why am I not surprised that you were waiting for me outside my math class?"

He grinned, running a hand through his hair. "Good morning to you too, Pascal. Don't you look like a ray of sunshine? I wonder why. I hope you weren't doing anything late last night?"

I balled my fists up and was about to swing them into his face, when he caught my arms. "Please just let me punch you!" I exclaimed, biting down on my lip, hard. "I'm pissed, I'm angry, I'm tired, I'm sleepy, I hate life, I hate you and I hate everything!"

His hold on my arms went weak, and my arms fell limply to my sides in a show of defeat. "Okay," he said, shrugging.

"Okay what?" I grumbled, looking at the ground because I didn't want to see his annoyingly smug face.

"Okay, you can punch me," he said, smiling. "You look like you need to let off some steam. Oh, and for the record, I have math in this class, so I wasn't stalking you."

The words tumbled off my tongue before I could stop them. "You're smart?!"

He rolled his eyes, but the playful gleam remained in his emerald orbs. "Yes, I'd like to think that I am. Thanks for that clever observation; I was sure I radiated intelligence. Then again, I'm sure that was diluted by my incredibly good looks."

He needed a high five in the face by a chair preferably made of metal or rock.

"You have a shitty personality, so it doesn't matter," I said, shrugging.

"Aha!" he yelled, pointing at me like he'd caught me in an act of felony. "You admit that I'm hot."

Oh, my God. How was it even possible for someone you'd literally JUST MET to annoy you so much?

"I just stated the fact that your personality can be compared to crap. I didn't specify any other aspect of you because that would be even meaner. You are, to put it simply, despicable."

He let out a loose laugh, clear and melodious. It stirred something inside me suddenly for a split second. It was like a butterfly wing had just tapped across my chest, flitting for a second before disappearing. It felt incredibly weird, and I'd never experienced it before.

He had a nice laugh and a beautiful smile.

God, I'm going to delete that thought. What was wrong with me?!

"Despicable is what they call me," he said, bowing, acting like he was removing an imaginary top hat. "Gru, at your service."

I playfully shoved him aside and began walking. "Do you just eat, sleep, breathe Disney?"

His eyes widened. "Pascal, how could you? 'Despicable Me' is DreamWorks, not Disney." He placed a hand on his heart because he was such a drama queen.

"Didn't you have a math class to go to?" I asked, facing him and shoving his chest lightly, but to no avail. "Also, do you not have any other people to bother? I don't know... friends, perhaps?"

He laughed. "You're worth skipping a class," he said, winking. I rolled my eyes, and he shook his head. "Just kidding. I cut class anyway. Seeing your face is an added bonus."

"AHA!" I said, imitating him. "You admit that I'm hot."

He shrugged. "I'm not the one denying it here, sweetheart. You're just the one who gets all flustered and bothered every time that I hint the fact that I've noticed you checking me out."

I don't think I'd ever blushed in my whole life, but I felt my cheeks become hot. I hated Todd Fletcher with a passion. "Go. Away."

He smiled. "Aw, don't you have any friends to go to, you hypocrite?"

No, I didn't. I had no one since, well, this summer. "Yeah, I do," I lied, putting my hands on my hips.

"Oh, really? Who is this person who can withstand being around you?" he challenged.

I bit my lip, and saw a familiar dark, high tied ponytail in the midst of our school's mainly fair haired population. "Hey, Arohi!" I called out, and she turned.

"She's cute," he commented. "Are you sure she'd want to be seen with you?"

For some reason, that comment stung more than it should have. "Of course she does." Arohi walked towards me, a look of uncertainty plastered across her features.

"Cecilia? What happened to the whole—" she began, and I cut her off.

"Hey, didn't you need someone to show you around and stuff? Yeah, right? I'll help you! I'm a good Samaritan and a great friend."

With that, I began dragging her away. She eyed me weirdly, but said nothing.

"Okay," was all she said, and we walked away and once Todd was nowhere to be seen, I heaved a huge sigh and placed a hand on my head. "Hey, I'm so sorry about that. It's just—"

"No, I get it," she said with a light laugh. "You have a crush on him, and by talking to me you were trying to prove a point! It's fine. I did something like that before I dated my ex."

"What?!" I yelped. "No, no, no. You've got it all wrong. I do not like him at all. He's just an annoying, arrogant, Disney-loving prick who I only really met yesterday, and he's already trying to make my life absolutely miserable."

She shrugged. "Looks like denial doesn't only flow in Egypt."

"No! Oh my god, I do not like him! At all! Like if there was a spectrum for love and hate, he'd not even be on the spectrum!" I said, hotly.

She nodded wisely. "Because he means so much more than a dumb spectrum."

"I DON'T LIKE HIM!"

She burst out laughing. "Maybe not yet. But when you get married I'll get to say I told you so."

"Hey!" called someone, and Arohi turned around with an eye roll. "Ro, how's my favorite lil' nerd?"

"Oh, she seems to be far away in a world called No One Gives a Fuck About You," she said, a sweet smile plastered on her face.

I recognized him. He was Ben Skolt, the basketball team captain and one of Ash's friends. He was the kind of person who'd pay money to admire his own face.

"Aw, Ro, no book today? What about your first paper, did you get an A on it?" he prodded. This kid liked her, and he was annoying. I opened my mouth, but Arohi beat me to it.

"Ben Skolt, I'm sorry that no one was willing to give you brains. Not God, not your genes, no one. So just because you've got the mental capacity of a new born baby doesn't mean you can tease me about being smart. Yes, I am. I pride myself over being smart. By making snide comments about my intelligence, you're just proving what an idiot you are. I'm sorry, are you like psychotic? When you're struggling for money and sitting on the roadside and I make pot loads because I worked hard for it, we'll see who's joking around then, alright?" she asked, with faux sympathy. He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. "Please zip it. My brain cells are dying."

And with that, she marched away, leaving his jaw unhinged.

I jogged up to her. "You do realize he has a 3.9 GPA, right?" I asked. Ben Skolt was an idiot, but he wasn't stupid.

If that made any sense.

She shrugged. "Didn't know, don't care."

Something about the way she'd snapped at him made me feel something. I missed having a girl to talk to. Someone to pour my heart out and just be dumb with. Someone who wasn't an idiot. Someone who knew how to stand up for herself.

God, I just missed having a best friend.

"Hey, are you free today?" I asked her, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Why, Miss. Upper Class Untouchable?"

I rolled my eyes. "Are you or are you not free," I deadpanned.

"I don't know," she dragged. "I guess I should just check my oh-so-busy schedule... I'm in such high demand, you see..." she twirled her hair and paused in mock thought.

I snapped at her. "Stop acting like a coy school girl who just got asked out by her crush. My offer stands; take it or leave it," I grumbled.

She giggled. "I was kidding, sourpuss. I'll make it, and then we can plan out the number of kids you and that boy will have," she added cheekily, before prancing away like some pixie.

Well, I'd had an interesting day.

i've never seen an indian side character before. this is bound to be interesting ;) any indians out there reading this? hmu

also, where's your best friend from?