[ a/n: this chapter is dedicated to AshtonFeelsUgh & Lasht0n__ for helping me out with the English-Spanish translations]

k a r r i s

✖

The Willowridge halls were thoroughly saturated in school pride. The entire campus rejoiced, celebrating our big win against Brampcrest from the previous evening. My peers stormed through the corridors, entering their classrooms with enthusiasm and great honor to be part of an institution that cultivated amazing athletes. After suffering on the ice for almost three periods, the Willowridge Thunderbirds went home as victors.

"There she is!"

My eyes widened behind my glasses as I halted my movements. I was mid-bite into the organic, almond breakfast muffin my mom stuffed into my hand before I walked out the door that morning. When I ceased my trudge into the main corridor, holding both my arms out in surrender, my jaw innately dropped open, causing the small chunk of the muffin to tumble out of my mouth.

"Doggy pile Coach Karris!" Michael screamed at the top of his lungs like a war cry before running at full speed towards me.

"Michael, no!" I shook my head as I witnessed number 24, plus the rest of the hockey team, stampede down the hallway and into my direction.

"I got her!" Luke yelled just as he pummeled into my body, bringing both myself and him onto the ground.

The rest of the team followed, falling on top of us like collapsing dominos. I enjoyed the love, I really did, but I was hungry that particular morning and made sure to keep the hand that gripped onto my scrumptious muffin out of harms way. I was flat on my back, my messenger bag landing beneath my head with Luke's resting on my chest. I gazed upwards, watching the boys laugh uncontrollably above me.

"You guys are crushing me!" I bellowed, a wide grin appearing on my face as I couldn't help but to relish in the happiness.

"We're crushing you with love!" Michael retorted with a big smile, his cheeks reddening with blissful hysteria.

"And why of all people, I'm getting trampled onto this dirty floor?" I asked, taking a bite out of my muffin.

"Because you're the reason we won, duh!" Michael answered, matter-of-factly. "You had faith in me. You believed that I was good enough to play."

"Mikey made the most outstanding winning goal of Willowridge Hockey history!" Luke broadcasted excitedly, pulling his arm out of the pile of bodies to grab a piece of my muffin.

When I shot Luke a glare (seriously, get your own muffin), he simply responded with an adorable, dimpled grin that exuded all the innocence he could muster. I hadn't really forgiven Luke for his ruthless character and was the reason why my best friend was currently hiding out at home instead of celebrating the big Willowridge win with everyone at school.

"You did?" I grinned up at Michael, who nodded in pride. "Did you do the--"

"--thing," Michael interrupted, "where I took the puck and--"

"--did the other thing behind--"

"--Jason Clarke, and--"

"--struck it on the top--"

"--left corner," Michael finished with a satisfied smile, "yea. I did."

The boys eyed the two of us with confusion dripping from their faces as they attempted to decipher the words spoken between their teammate and I. There was no denying that Michael and I had an unexpected connection and budding friendship from day one.

I was the pariah of Willowridge High, and Michael was the underdog of the hockey team. It was our determination to prove that we were worth more than what our peers already established that brought the two of us together -- and it was our friendship that became the apparatus of a winning game.

"As much as I love all of this affection," I began with a smile, "you are still crushing the nucking futs out of me!"

I finished with a high-pitched shriek, the perfect cue which told the boys on the hockey team to hilariously climb off of each other. I still was lying on the floor, about to sit up when an unexpected hand entered my line of vision. I gazed at it for a minute before following the hand's arm up to its owner.

Calum hovered above me with a tight-lipped smile and guilt in his dark eyes. I didn't say a word to him, simply taking his hand in mine and using it as an anchor to help me up. Once standing on my own two feet I shot Calum a small smile in response before quickly averting my attention else where. I stepped away from him, my goal to continue towards my locker and hope I don't become victim to another doggy pile.

"Karris, wait," Calum seized my arm before I could completely walk away.

I turned on my heel, "yes, Calum?"

He let out a breath, looking down at his feet nervously, "I want us to be friends again."

I cocked my head in confusion.

"Please Karris? I know I haven't been very considerate of your feelings lately and I'm sorry," Calum apologized, gazing at me with great rue. "All I really want is for us to be okay again. We're like Kobe and Shaq."

I would be lying if I said I didn't miss Calum. I did... a lot. But I wasn't so sure if I was ready to be friends with him again. He broke me -- maybe not intentionally, but he still held a large fragment of my heart. I needed closure, and being buddy-buddy with the dark-haired boy who had an affinity for black tea and cookies, wasn't going to help mend me.

"I can forgive you Calum," I said, which made him smile. But upon noticing my stoic reaction, it was Calum's turn to be confused.

"I have a gut feeling there's a, but, coming," he guessed.

"I'm not over you," I revealed, "I can respect you, and we can be cool. But I'm just not ready to be the Kobe to your Shaq just yet."

I stared at Calum, waiting for some kind of response from him. I wasn't even sure how he was going to react to my honest statement. And to be frank, I was proud of myself for admitting a declaration that made me feel so vulnerable and so exposed.

Calum shot me a morose expression, nodding his head slowly, "I understand."

"Thank you,"

"I'm here if you need me," Calum took a step back, giving me a half-hearted wave before turning around with slumped shoulders.

I watched as Calum trudged down the hallway, passing his teammates who were still rejoicing. There was a pang in my chest as my brain unwillingly replayed the friendship of Calum and I like some kind of coming-of-age Blockbuster hit. It stung, no lie, but after sacrificing my feelings, I finally had to do something for me.

This was a day in which I wished my best friend were with me. So I pulled out my phone from the side pocket of my school bag and pressed the button. As the screen lit up, showcasing a photograph of Gabe and I, I tapped onto my message app where it immediately redirected me to the string of texts. Tapping on the second entry where Berkley's name was, I began typing.

To: Bestie Berkley - 8:20AM
I just got doggy piled by the hockey team. AND Calum just apologized. What is life?

I knew Berkley would be by her phone, probably checking social media or looking for Pokemon, so I expected a text almost instantly. However, when my phone buzzed in my hand, it wasn't a typical Berkley reply that consisted of all caps and several emojis.

From: Bestie Berkley - 8:21AM
ERROR: Invalid number. Please re-send using a valid 10 digit mobile code.

Confusion was an understatement. Berkley's number was invalid which meant she disconnected her phone, but I wasn't sure why. I tried not to think about it too much, as my best friend would probably text me any minute with her new number. I just hated playing the waiting game, especially when there was so much to discuss with her.

So I tried the next thing: social media. I opened up Facebook first, searching for my friend's profile so I could send her a message but another strike of confusion hit me like a brick as her profile was missing. I followed a hunch, checking for all of Berkley's social media profiles and found nothing but deactivations.

"That's odd," I spoke to myself, staring at my phone screen and what used to be Berkley's Instagram account.

Even though my best friend was missing from school with no way for me to contact her, the rest of the school day proceeded with utmost excitement and Thunderbird integrity. It seemed like the entire campus, faculty, janitorial staff, and Bernice the lunch lady, were in extreme highs. I knew the hockey team was important to the school-- top notch players and consecutive Championship wins have always sparked interest in Willowridge alumni and other rich folks with multimillion dollar companies who sponsored the school with endless goodies. Our win against Brampcrest after having a rough start of the season felt as if the entire school won too, and I couldn't help but to bask in the bliss as well.

Through out the school day, I was hoping to bump into Ashton. It's weird, I get it, but I couldn't stop thinking about Sebastian's threat. And thinking about Sebastian Grey, meant being reminded of Ashton's kind gesture. In a sense he saved me last night, and I wanted to thank him. However, the hard headed hockey captain was nowhere to be found.

"Hey Mikey?" I approached my happy friend who was at his locker chucking textbooks and random folders in and out of the metal compartment.

Michael locked eyes with me one second, and the next he was pulling me into his chest for a very vigorous hug. My head was squished against his letterman's jacket, the glasses that adorned my face were crookedly hanging off of my ears, and my nostrils were gifted with the welcoming aroma of my friend's cologne.

"You're squishing the life out of me," my voice was muffled against his chest, and I felt it vibrate from laughter, "second time today Mikey, what's up?"

"Seriously dude," Michael separated us, his hands on both my shoulders, "I don't know how to thank you enough for everything."

My eyes lingered into Michael's locker, my vision landing on an unopened bag of Hot Cheetos. With my eyebrow raised and a smirk plastered on my face I suggested,

"you can start by letting me have some of your Hot Cheetos."

Michael let out a loud, burly laugh as he stuck his arm into his locker, "you're a kooky one Karris."

"What can I say? I like my junk food," I nodded in agreement, as Michael opened up the bag of spicy chips. "But only a little, otherwise my mom will know and my urine samples have been perfect."

Michael cocked his head to the side, narrowing in his brows in puzzlement.

"You don't wanna know," I answered, plunging my hand into the plastic bag and pulling out a few pieces. "Anyway, I had a question for you."

"What's going on? You okay?"

"Yea, I'm good. I was actually looking for Ashton,"

"Really?" Michael smiled, mischief glazing his eyes, "what did he do? Are you about to kick his ass? Can I watch?"

I chuckled, "I'm not going to kick his ass. I wanted to talk to him about something and I haven't seen him all day. Do you know if he'll be at practice today?"

"Oh! I just realized I have to pass along a message," Michael hinted, "I saw Coach Benson earlier and he says no practice today because of our victory last night. He wanted me to tell everyone."

"Awesome!" I whooped. I almost forgot what it felt like to be able to go straight home after school, when I had practice every single day.

"Calum and I wanted to go celebrate tonight with the rest of the team; go out for pizza and maybe get into some trouble afterwards. You down?" Michael grinned, wiggling his eyebrows in hopes the gesture would help sway my final decision.

My eyes lit up with excitement as I flashed a smile. I opened my mouth to quickly accept the invitation, until I was hit with an unfortunate realization. Disappointment washed over me, spewing into my veins with a harsh sting. My shoulders slumped forwards and my grin morphed into a frown.

"Are you alright?" Michael raised a brow.

"I forgot," I began, mentally kicking myself in the brain, "I've got to go to hot yoga with my mom tonight."

"Hot yoga?"

"Yea, it's one of my mom's holistic ideas of self healing," I quoted my mother, who was constantly researching ways to heal my body and prevent any further trips to the E.R.

Michael still stared at me with confusion, "so, does that mean you can't hang out with us?"

With a sigh I nodded my head, "exactly. Sorry... I'll be there next time."

"Fine," Michael smiled, "we'll make sure we send you Snaps so it feels like you're there."

"Perfect!" I laughed, stepping forward to give Michael a quick hug.

We said our goodbyes for the day before separating at the end of the hallway where he turned left to meet up at Calum's locker, and I kept going towards the main campus doors. I followed my peers out into the front lawn of the school as we all dispersed to either the busses, the pick-up loop, or into the school lot. It was a lucky afternoon for me because my workaholic mother was actually off for once -- and not the off-but-on-call kind either. And with my mom being at home delving into one of her many hobbies, meant that I had access to her car.

So I sauntered across the school lot, trying to not get run over by the other upper clansmen who drove themselves to school, showing off the cars that their parents obviously bought for them. My mom's car was parked with its headlights facing the red, metal gate, next to a pearly white BMW. As I stuck my hand into the side pocket of my messenger bag, fishing out the keys, I approached the driver's side, also noticing that the BMW was inhabited.

The windows were rolled down as some song by Mike Posner played from the speakers. I couldn't see at first who was inside the car, but as I got closer, I locked eyes with a pair of light brown eyes in the passenger side mirror. Mollie turned her head, resting her arms on the sill of the window and shot me a smile.

"Hey Karris," she greeted.

I wanted to hate her so bad that I actually felt horrible for thinking such savage thoughts. It was so unlike me to hate a person for an illogical reason and for that, I really couldn't disrespect Mollie.

"Hi Mollie," I responded with a wave, clicking the button on the black FOB key.

"Will you be going out for pizza with the hockey team later?" She asked, and a surge of FOMO oozed from every part of me.

I shook my head with a frown, "unfortunately, I can't make it."

"That's too bad,"

I saw Mollie's mouth open, but it wasn't her voice that filled my ears. Instead, a new one entered our civil conversation and my confidence went down the drain.

"The get together will be so much fun," Tegan continued. She stood outside of her car, her head peeking over the hood of her car. "Too bad you won't be able to celebrate the boys' incredible win with everyone."

"Trust me," I groaned, "it sucks."

"It'll be like the old days, especially since Ashton and I are back together," she revealed, which regrettably instigated the sass I didn't know I had.

Oops.

"Please," I scoffed with an eye roll, "does he know that?"

The moment my brain caught up, finally registering what unfortunately sputtered out of my mouth, I shot a hand to my bastos pie-hole. I stared at Tegan with wide eyes glossed with anguish and fear.

(translation: rude)

Tegan's bright eyes turned cold so fast, shooting me the most nefarious glare that even Lord Voldemort would defecate in his Wizarding robes. She was fuming and didn't even try to hide it as her brows narrowed in on me and I knew that Tegan's predator demeanor was about to snap. The anger that dripped from her face suddenly became soft as she let out a smile -- Queen Two Faced was in fact, pissed the eff off.

"I should ask you the same thing, Karris," she began her tirade, "correct me if I'm wrong, which I know I'm not, but your intellect while extraordinary also has its threshold. And because of that cap, especially in the sphere of the male scope, I don't think that you really have any governing rhetoric to contribute."

I cowered, "I'm sorry Tegan, I didn't mean--"

"--of course you didn't mean it," Tegan quickly interrupted, a smirk plaster on her face, "I'm going to let this go and equate your lack of sense to the heat."

"Yea," I nodded my head, feeling belittled, "I'm just dehydrated and not thinking straight. I'm sorry Tegan."

She smiled, pleased with my response while I felt like a total menial little girl with no backbone. I hated how I easily I turned into a pile of mush every time Tegan was in the room or decided to talk to me. She radiated so much confidence and power that it was almost impossible for a mousy creature like me to stand up to her.

I opened my car door and slipped inside, feeling embarrassed. I wanted to call Berkley right away but with her phone not working, I had to go right to the source: her home. I stuck the key into the ignition, the engine firing up and the A/C immediately turning on. The soft hum of the radio rang in my ears as I backed out of the parking stall.

I drove to Berkley's house, which was only a 7 minute drive from school. Two rights, and one unprotected left turn later and I approached the subdivision I grew up knowing. The Ramos family lived in a beautiful yet quaint, two-story house that was fit for a vineyard in Tuscany. While Berkely's father was the only one making money, his business was booming and allowed for his family to live quite nicely.

When I pulled up to the quiet home, only one car in the driveway and the windows open, I knew that both Ramos women were inside. After parking against the curb, I walked up the stone pathway that lead to the front door. There was an open window nearby, and immediately Mama Ramos' cooking infiltrated my nose. My mouth watered, and I felt like home. I rang the doorbell, patiently waiting for the barricade to open. After a few seconds, and hearing some shuffling inside, the door opened wide.

"Mija! Come in! Como éstas?"

(translation: my daughter; how are you?)

I smiled at the woman before me who wore a beautiful summer dress, "Mama! I'm doing very well!"

I immediately went in for a hug to which Mama Ramos reciprocated with a warm one. As we separated she looked at me with bright eyes and I did the same. My vision trailed across her body, noticing a large bandage wrapped around her wrist. My heart stopped because I knew.

You see, I grew up in this home as much as I grew up in my own. I didn't understand when I was a kid, but now I knew. I knew that whatever excuse Mama Ramos came up with, was utter bullcrap. She was a strong woman and like Berkley, I wished she could get out too.

Mama Ramos noticed my eyes and how they were glued to her wrist. Immediately she averted my attention with yet another lie.

"I accidentally burned myself cooking, but you came just in time, there are fresh Pupusas! Ven a comer," she excitedly mentioned, tugging onto my arm.

(translation: come eat)

"I'd love to, but may I see Berkley first?" I asked, my eyes looking over to the set of stairs behind her.

"Yes, of course," Mama Ramos responded before turning her head over her shoulder to shout towards the stairs, "Berkley! Ve y arreglate! Ya llego Karris!"

(translation: Clean yourself up; Karris is here)

My best friend's mom, who I adopted as my mother too, turned back to me with a grin. She pushed me towards the stairs, giving my bum a playful slap,

"Go upstairs mija."

I nodded, headed for the stairs. As I jogged up the stone steps, my hand grazing the wrought iron banister, I heard the muffled sounds of some Telenovela -- a staple in the Ramos home. I knocked on Berkley's door, pressing my ear up against the wooden barricade.

"Come in," Berkley's voice was faint.

I turned the silver handle, opening the door and stepping inside of her dim bedroom. Normally the windows would be open wide, letting in as much sunlight as possible into the space, but on that very day, Berkley was sulking in the shadows.

"Bestie, what are you doing?" I asked, jumping and plopping down onto her queen-sized bed. I gazed at my best friend with worry in my eyes.

"Watching Karina get called out by Jesus," Berkley haphazardly replied.

"What?" I turned over my shoulder, to what was playing on the television that was hanging on the wall. Two characters in this particular Telenovela were obviously school students as they stood by lockers, clad in a uniform.

"Eres pegajosa y no eres mi tipo. Consigue una vida!" The male, I assumed was named Jesus, yelled at his female counterpart.

(translation: You're clingy and not my type! Get a life)

"You're a dick Jesus! Karina really liked you! Son todos iguales, pinches pendejos!" Berkley screamed at the TV, snatching one of her stuffed animals and hurling at the screen.

(translation: Boys are all the same; so conniving and stupid)

"Oh my God, Berkley!" I bellowed, grabbing the remote out of her hand before she could dislodge it towards the television, "what's going on? Why isn't your phone working? I tried to text you, but I got an error message."

She sighed, "I had to change my number."

"Why?"

Berkley didn't respond right away. Instead, she looked at me with morose in her brown eyes before beginning to cry. I gasped, quickly getting closer to my best friend and jumping beneath the blanket to hold her. Berkley hid her face into my chest as I stroked her hair.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" I insisted.

Again, there was no verbal response from Berkley. But what I did get, was some movement. Her arm slipped beneath her pillow and pulled out her cellphone. She opened up the messaging app and handed the device to me. I took it from her hand, puzzlement as I looked at her for assurance. Berkley nodded her head and proceeded to look down at the screen.

My eyes grew as I read the previews of text messages on Berkley's phone. There must have been a hundred of texts, all from blocked numbers.

From: BLOCKED - 2:30AM
U R such a skank!

From: BLOCKED - 2:40AM
Bet UR a whore like UR mom!

From: BLOCKED - 4:15M
Slit yourself and drown in a tub. No one would miss your skank ass!

From: BLOCKED - 5:20AM
You're disgusting. No one wants to see your ugly body.

From: BLOCKED - 5:22AM
Fucking slut! Glad you're off the dance team. Now to us all a favor and get off this earth!!!!

From: BLOCKED - 6:10AM
I bet you'll just have sex with anyone. Whore!

I stopped reading the text messages -- they were beyond horrific. It was torture and I was angry at everyone who decided to take time out of their lives to send my best friend into a whirlwind of melancholy. Berkley was at home suffering; she was hiding out because the monsters were at school, but through technology, the monsters were able to be with her 24/7.

I continued to comfort Berkley till she stopped crying. We opted to watch funny movies as oppose to the soap operas she was addicted to. Her mom came up to feed us some of the best Mexican food to have ever touched my tongue, and for a few hours it seemed like my best friend was going to be okay. She had skin tougher than most and despite the despicable people we go to school with, I knew that Berkley was going to win the battle.

She always does.

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I really liked writing this chapter and I hoped you all liked reading it! I needed to reveal what Berkley has been going through while hiding out at home because in the next chapter, she's back at school! Also, Ashton as been missing from school... where do you think he's at?

 Thank you all for leaving me some of the greatest comments ever. They're all very sweet and also very funny! I love knowing what you're thinking as you read the chapter. Please continue to vote, as it helps out my story a lot. And sharing it too, as new readers are always welcome!!!