Your pen pal, Misha, hasn't written you in whole three months already. Of course, it was making you worried and sad. But you couldn't focus too much on that, since it was almost the end of the school year, the last one for you. And also because of the new problem on your back. Mason Laurent, the mysterious guy who transferred here for some reason and now keeps you on your toes.

"Oops, sorry, Rocks." You grimace as the sticky liquid, orange juice, judging by it, stains your shirt and skirt. Mason stands in front of you, looking absolutely unashamed, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. His friends he made so quickly somehow stand behind him and snicker, mostly delinquents and other shady types of the school.

"Maybe you should take off your clothes for me to help you get clean." Some of the guys let out oooh and whistling sounds at Mason's mocking. What a bastard.