The tension runs thicker than water. The clock ticks slowly, agonisingly so. You didn’t even do anything. Yet, here you are in detention with Rafe Cameron.

He started it. Talking shit about Sarah and Kie? God, his stupidly handsome face and the way his bangs framed his face as he spoke, his words laced with venom. So, you punched him. The rest of the story tells itself.

“You shouldn’tve hit me, bitch. You’re lucky Sarah pulled me off of you.” He says, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He keeps on rambling, but you ignore him. You can’t get in anymore trouble than you’re already in.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna talk?” He says, taunting you by throwing pencils at you. This piece of shit.