AN: For Allie and Felicia. I'm sorry that this is late. Better late than never...? :)

Disclaimed:)

"No. Fucking. Way." Cameron Matthew Fisher angrily bit down on his tongue, not wanting to go any further. But hell, he was a teenager, he had to go further. "I am not fucking doing what you want me to fucking do. There is no fucking way that I'm going to be stuck in a fucking room with little Miss Morbid over there." He angrily balled up his fists and glared straight ahead into the dark abyss of Mr. Myner's eyes.

"Mr. Fisher," Mr. Myner began, sighing in exasperation, "Miss Block is merely of the same substance as you, only she shows it in a more unique way. Now, I'm not going to sit here and tolerate your insane, incessant blabbering and I'll let you go to the gym for it is vacant now and you and Miss Block will work there."

"But Mr. Myner—" Cam protested, but Mr. Myner cut him off.

"Ah, ah, ah, Mr. Fisher." He shook his head and jabbed a finger towards the door. "Now march. And don't come back until I see proof that you actually had a real-life conversation with Miss Block."

Cam's frown deepened, his eyebrows furrowed closer in together and his shoulders slumped downwards. "Fine. But if I don't come back in the required hour and she does, you know what happened and you should know who to call."

Mr. Myner rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Just go Mr. Fisher."

Cam sighed and ambled out of the room, dozens of voices whispering about his soon-to-be death. Cam rolled his eyes and he took long strides towards the outside to where the gym was located. He pushed past the huge, oak double doors, thinking,

Well, Cameron, you lived a long and sort of happy life. Good luck with whatever comes your way.

He winced as he stood in front of the huge gymnasium. She's behind those doors, he thought. All you have to do is push open the door and that's where you could possibly die. Something will come swinging toward you and it'd be sharp and you'd just die. Blood will splash everywhere and you'd hear she-who-should-not-be-named and she'll be cackling at you, a loud and ringing cackle, the kinds that you hear in cheesy, witch movies.

All the while, he had pushed past the gym doors, his eyes closed. At the sound of a basketball bouncing up and down, he cringed. Here it comes, he thought.

"Excuse me. You. Yeah, you, in the green," a high-pitched voice barked loudly. "You coming over here or what?"

Cam opened his eyes slowly, afraid of what he was going to see. But all that he saw was a girl, a girl a couple of inches shorter than him, a hand firmly glued to her hip and her auburn hair covering majority of her pale face standing on the top step of the dandelion-painted bleachers. He raised an eyebrow at the sight, thinking, Crap, crap, crap.

Massie Block stepped down slowly, as if she was Anne Hathaway in Princess Diaries. She finally reached the ground, having descended gracefully. She swept her way towards him, her feet tracing long curves behind her.

Cam hadn't realized that the gym was empty, except for them, the basketballs piled on top of a rack in the corner and the scoreboard that blinked with the scores of the last game they hosted. The lights were dimmed and the air had a sort of light feeling to it, a very serene feeling, as if someone injected a tranquilizer into it.

"Cameron Fisher, right? Born June 17th; prefers Coca-Cola Classic over anything else; admires guys who have enough balls to carry their girlfriends' bags; has gained a temper problem; finds Taylor Swift to be highly annoying, yet you listen to her songs." Her eyebrow was raised in a very in-your-face manner, a smug smirk prompt on her face.

Cam's eyes were wide as he stared into the deep depths of her amber eyes. "H-how do you know that?" he stuttered.

Massie chuckled lightly to herself and shrugged one shoulder. "Where do you think I get the information from?" she asked, turning around and gracefully made her way towards the last step of the bleachers. She took a seat and leaned back on her elbows, staring at Cam.

Cam's nostrils twitched as he took a step forward slowly. "I'm not sure where you got it. It's why I'm asking you."

"But why would you ask me?" she taunted, tracing circles on the empty space next to her. "You know, since I have no

friends."

"Because you're the only one here," Cam answered. For some reason, the more Massie spoke, the more he wanted to step forward. But he wouldn't risk that.

"Well, who do you wish was here instead?" She looked up, her eyes having drilled holes into his face.

Cam shrugged nonchalantly. "Megan Fox, I guess. She's pretty hot. Her or Miley Cyrus. Damn, that girl." He chuckled and peered up at Massie. For a second there, he was close to saying her name as well.

Massie's eyebrow arched. "Uh-huh. I figured. You're a senior-you're seventeen-year-old hormones are kicking in."

Cam shook his head. "For your information, I'm eighteen."

Massie threw her head back and laughed. "I'll add that to my list."

Cam rubbed his eyes. Who are you? Why do you know this? Why are you so enticing? Why do I wanna kiss you right now? "Look," he uttered, taking a step forward, "I don't know who you are and why the hell you're so strange... But I have to get this over with. I have to talk to you for an hour. Get to know you better so that I have friends when I leave for college. Shit like this is what gets to me. I don't even fucking understand why I need to do this. This isn't a project; it's a self-help thing."

Massie smirked. "Why do you think that?"

"Because it's true!" He threw his hands into the air and sat down next to Massie. "First off, I can make my own friends. I don't need a stupid project to help me. And besides, I have lots of friends! There's Derrick Harrington, Josh Hotz, Chris Plovert, Kemp Hurley, Vader Johnson..."

"What if Myner wants you to get in touch with your feminine side?" Massie inquired, absently twirling a strand of her curls.

Cam groaned exasperatedly. "What feminine side? I'm a dude! All I wanna do is make out with girls. I admit it, I just wanna make out with them."

Massie chuckled to herself under her breath. Cam glared at her. "What?"

She shrugged lightly. "Nothing."

Cam rolled his eyes. "Come on, Massie, what?"

"Oh, calling me Massie now, eh? We're just that kind of close now, then?" she teased.

He cracked a smile. "Mass, seriously, tell me why you laughed. You just don't laugh like that. Then again, you're looney in the head-"

"Okay, I'll tell you, jeez." She scratched the side of her face and looked out to the empty basketball court. "You say you just wanna make out with girls, but you know that deep down, you want more than that. You want a relationship that's going to last. You want something with a girl who will know your best interests at heart and will also be your best friend. But, being the senior boy you are, you also want her to know how to kiss. Aren't I right?"

He stared at her, his jaw slightly dropped. Massie Block, how do you do it? He shook his head, the amazement clear on his face. "You know, Mass, you're highly entertaining."

The familiar smirk played onto her features once again. "Why thank you, Cameron. Being called a Las Vegas showgirl is on the top ten things I want to achieve before dying." She stood up and hopped onto the next step gracefully.

Cam watched her, dazzled by her ever ready wit and charm. She was a charismatic being, Cam had been aware of that. But it was only recently that he had been enthralled in it. "Massie, wait up!" He called after her.

Massie turned around, one foot on one step while the other was on the previous step. "What?"

Cam froze. He didn't know what. He just didn't want her to leave. He wanted more from her. He wanted to talk. He wanted to...

Be.

Massie, with an irritated look on her face, tugged on her black cape. (Did anyone ever mention she wore a cape?) "What, Cam?"

His eyebrows went together and he twirled around in a circle. At that, Massie responded with a giggle. "Twirling, Cammie, really?"

He shrugged and hurried after her, leaping up next to her. He caught her amber-eyed stare with his own pair of green-and-blue eyes and smiled softly. "Have lunch with me?"

Massie raised an eyebrow. "Nah," she replied. "I'm not shallow and materialistic. Sorry, Cammie boy. I just can't be seen with y'all."

Cam frowned. "Mass... I don't hang out with those girls. I hang out with the dudes and they're great. They're not all weird and fluffy. They have real feelings and I think that with you they'll be able to better than they are now. Come on, Mass, it's just lunch."

Massie bit her bottom lip and looked down at her purple Converse-clad feet. "Cam. You don't want to be seen with me. You're up there. I'm a bottom feeder. Let's keep it like that, okay?" She angrily huffed and began her descent back down to the ground. She had always been fascinated with Cam and his so-called Class A group, but not so much as to which she would sit with them. She wasn't like them. She was different. She wore a cape and she drew on her Converse. She took pictures with a Nikon and not with a damned digital pink camera.

"Massie, come on!" he called, following her. He was right behind her, his eyes locked on her bouncing brunette curls.

"I'm good, Cam. Seriously. I don't need your babbling, bumbling band of baboons to boost up my ego or shit like that."

Cam laughed. "You have to disclaim that. Professor McGonagall said that first."

Massie turned around, surprised. She would never have thought that he would know Harry Potter; let alone that one line. "Whatever. I'm done here. It's been almost an hour. Just make up whatever about me when Mr. Myner asks." She continues walking again, stomping off towards the opposite direction.

Cam sighed, watching her cape sway back and forth. "Massie Block," he called, "you're beautiful."

AN: :O So while typing up that last sentence, the song Painting Flowers by All Time Low just blasted into my ears [after my parents repeatedly nagged that my earphones will one day destroy my sense of hearing] the line, Nothing's making sense at all, was sung. And I went :O because this one-shot made no sense at all. I'm sorry to Felicia and Allie. Heh. But hopefully I'm not too late?

Love,

Ericka:)