"Aw, come on, Mari! Let's see those designs of yours," he said, ripping the book out of my hands. I tried to reach for it, but he held it over my head like it was nothing. "They must be pretty awful if you keep hiding them from me."

"Give it back, Agreste!" I yell, clawing at his arms to reach my pad. "You have no right to see those!" If he saw what else I drew in there, my secret would be out. I didn't need to be outright famous.

"I don't now, do I?" he says calmly, still looking at the dresses I had drawn. "Hmm," he said quietly, pointing at the sundress I had recently made. "Haven't I seen you in this one? The sleeves were too long on it."

I gaped at him. "You actually remember that one? But I only wore it once and — "

Adrien tossed the book back at me, shrugging. "Yeah. So? I remember a lot of things."

"I would never thought that you were so low as to check me out," I told him, glowering. I hated Adrien Agreste. He would always pick on me, as though I were something puny and disgusting. I kicked him in the crotch when we were eight.

"You're right. I must be lower than that, because I've done it loads of times," he says, laughing. Then his smile melts away and is replaced by a sneer as Nino and Nathanael come over next to us.

"Aww, look, the little girl is drawing dresses again! Wanna make me one? Let's see some of those that you made, huh, Dupain-Cheng?" Adrien acted as though he hadn't already done it. I was confused, wondering why he would make a show for his lackeys.

"No," I told him, turning around. "Why don't you check out your dad's designs then? Maybe you can learn a thing or two and make your own." I stormed off, showing my middle finger to the boys.

I heard ooohh's and other exclamations as I walked passed the crowds, shocked that the girl that never broke the rules just did that. I stomped into class, having enough for today.

"Mari!" Alya, my best friend, yelled at me excitedly. "You left Agreste and his boys stunned! How'd you do that?"

I sat down next to her, and shrugged. "I flipped them off," I smiled. "It felt good."

"Oh," she said, understanding. "You know, I punched Nino Lahiffe the other day. Does he still have a mark?"

"I don't know. I didn't really pay attention to him."

Alya got on her phone for a second, then gasped. "Do you know a singing duo called LadyNoir? The dancer Ladybeat?"

Ladybeat? Uh-oh. "No," I lied. "Who's she?" Alya's eyes widened and she gasped again, a little louder.

"You don't know who Ladybeat is? What about Clef Noir?"

"Uh-huh," I answered, nodding my head. "Never heard of Ladybeat, though."

"Well, they're a partnership, so that's almost impossible not to hear of Ladybeat, making all sorts of cool song covers. But it's the way they do it is so amazing. They make their own dances and affects, it's almost like being at a real concert. Clef Noir can do voices, mimic the people who sang them, and Ladybeat dances like crazy! I should take you to one of their shows."

"That's nice, Alya, but you know I don't do concerts," I tell her, smiling nicely. It would be the total end of me if someone were able to recognize my . . . dancing.

"Oh. Well, I got a video," she said, getting onto YouTube. I look over her shoulder to watch what she clicked on, but I barely get to see it when someone's hands go over my eyes. The hands are soft but large, very familiar, too.

I've felt these hands before.

"Guess who," the voice purrs, his lips too close to my hair. And by too close, I definitely mean in it. "You smell like cookies, Mari."

"If you don't get off right now," I warn quietly, "I will scream bloody murder." I sat still, frozen.

Agreste pulled his hands away and sat down next to me. "A little birdy told me you like Clef Noir," he said, smirking. He grabs my arm. "Let me tell you, Clef Noir is just a piece of trash. He can never do anything right."

"Little do you know," I murmured, angry again. I had to keep a lid on it, though. What if Adrien found out I knew Clef Noir personally? "Why can't you just leave me alone? Are you just jealous I like a complete and total stranger better than a jerk like you?" I ask, trying to free myself. His hold becomes stronger, tightening.

"Excuse me?" he asked, quiet and dangerous. He leans in, his eyes full of hatred and dark things, like a murderer's eyes. They frightened me. But the bright green eyes seemed familiar. A spark of something kinder and sadder explodes in them, making his grip falter. "Do you really hate me that much?" he whispers, almost to himself. I pull my arm away quickly, while he's distracted. I glance at Alya, who seems just as confused and terrified as I am, if not more.

"Go. Away," I say, firm and slow. I fold my arms, glaring at him. He looks mad, but gets up anyway, recovering his slip. His smirk is back on, but there's a new element. Anger. Somehow that makes it all the more nightmare-ish.

"Of course, Mari," he taunts, using my nickname. I cringed a bit, and the raging look in his eyes grew more livid. "Anything for you." He spits it out like it's poison, and stormed back to his seat. I turn to Alya.

"Girl. . . ." She looks scared. "Was it just my imagination, or did Agreste just try to hit on you, failed, and now seems to hate your guts?"

"No, I think I saw it, too. But why the sudden change?" I wondered, agreeing. I went into my bag, and tried to look for my sketchpad, wanting to write the issue down. After a few minutes, it was clear that my sketchpad had been taken hostage. Something dropped in my stomach, and I blushed.

That boy. Just. Played me.

"AGRESTE!" I shouted, clawing my way over to his desk. "Give me back my sketchpad!"