Chapter One

If I say I'm sick, don't kiss me!

The rules for keeping up your popularity is a simple process:

Number one, the shorter the skirt, the better.

Number two, natural beauty is overrated.

Number three, high heels are an extension of your foot. To go without them would be like losing a toe.

Number four, boys are like dolls, and should never be utilized more than once or for an extended period of time.

And number five, never ever reveal you collect Super Smash Bros memorabilia, you know every line to the Secret Rings, and you actually know the birthdates of all the the Knights of the Round Table.

Yeah. I'm a total closeted nerd.

I'm not cool with pity glares in the hallways, painful jabs, and social scars. No thanks. It's much easier to keep my true identity hidden beneath layers of eyeliner, skimpy outfits, and even I must admit to myself, a rockin' body. Though the push up bras tend to do most of the work.

Welcome to high school. Where everyone tries to be someone else.

Well… excluding Sonic.

Here's the Top Secret information about my next-door neighbor. He's known as King Freak since he wears nerdy shirts and talks in geek code. His front pocket of the sweaters he wears always has at least three or four flash cards in it. And if it's not that then it's a graphing calculator he has to keep shoving down so it doesn't fall out. There's a Secret Rings keychain always clipped to the back of his jeans and he sometimes carries an Xbox controller in his back pocket.

And I'm head over heels for the boy.

It's not just the fact he was the one to introduce me to the awesomeness of the Japanese Language, the hidden mysteries of Secret Rings, and the magical world that lies beyond, but really, he pulls off sexy freak so damn well! His bright, like super bright, green eyes and his cobalt quills that sawy around when he's laughing too hard, combined with his nice height, swoon… he's like the Clark Kent of my high school.

I may be the only person who finds his freakiness so hecka irresistible. Everyone else treats him like some dead bug on the sidewalk. I know how it is, and I have no idea how he handles all the verbal abuse.

Middle school Amy—Freak Amy, I like to call her—was made fun of and tormented so much she spent most nights crying into her pillow. High school was the break I was totally looking for. A chance to freaking rewrite myself into someone who's socially acceptable. Summer before school started, I grabbed loads of magazines and watched all those teen movies that so aren't as awesome as Night of the Werehog, but they were for my status education. And apparently, I was doing this popularity thing all wrong. I gotta be like a major bitch to people, and I'll end up getting the hottest guy in the end.

Took some work, but I think I got it down. I should win an Oscar for how awesome I am at the fake personality.

But, it's been three years since I was de-freak-a-fied, and I still find myself trying to stifle the urge to buy Comic-Con tickets, and try not to act jealous when I see Sonic dressing up for the event.

Don't get me wrong, my life is pretty darn fantastic and a whole heap lot better than the alternative, which is getting my emotional butt kicked around. So the fake persona is definitely worth it. People think I'm awesome, so that makes me feel awesome.

There's a huge party tonight. Lots of booze and boys, but like every party night, I try to show off first to my neighbor, who can see straight into my open window.

I strip down to my underwear so Sonic can get a good look and turn up the music on my cell phone. If he sneaks a peek, I can give him my usual innocent face and be like, "Whoops! I'm changing with the window open again, aren't I? So sorry." Then make a nice, sexy show of closing the curtains. It looks perfect in my head, even though it's completely pathetic that I have to resort to this. I'm trying way too hard to get his attention, but I don't care. It's not like I can flirt with him at school. Social suicide bomb right there.

Stealing glances out my window into his, I parade around my room acting as if I'm getting ready for the party. But I can't get a good view of him, and I don't want to be more obvious than I already am.

Nothing.

Huh, maybe he's not…

Yikes! I've reached my Underground playlist and my heart stumbles over itself as I quickly turn the music back down until I can get a more trendy song on.

"Hey, I was listening to that," a voice says from outside my window. I knew he was home. Stupid boy ignoring a prancing half-naked girl next door. Gosh, I thought I was doing this right. I adjust my bra to make my boobs look extra luscious, and then smoothly appear in his line of sight.

Sonic is on his tablet, books piled next to him. He opens up a program and studies it, ignoring me, brow furrowed. He's absolutely not checking out my cleavage.

"What exactly were you listening to?" I ask, using my sultry tone males, uhh, most males flaunt over.

His green eyes flicker to me—about time—he shakes his head at my revealing attire before reaching over to a cord I can't see. His blinds shut with a rejected smack!

Ouch.

I examine my boobs, but there's nothing wrong there. Maybe I have a booger or something.

Nope. No booger, no drool, nothing.

Simply me.

Gnarly, now I'm all self-conscious. What's wrong with me? I twirl around in circles, trying to check out my ass, but all I can think is I miss my Secret Rings panties. These lacy ones are okay, Popular Amy 101, but there's nothing cooler than having a genie's head slapped across my ass cheeks. Well, if I can't even impress my freak, I'm not going to even attempt a party appearance.

I throw on my pajamas—the big unflattering ones—and slouch on the bed. Stupid freak and the spell he has on me. I shouldn't care what he thinks.

But I do. Because I care what everybody thinks.

I sigh and look out the window again. The sun dips below the horizon casting orange and yellow streaks across Sonic's blinds. I wonder if Sonic's still sitting there on his tablet, tapping away or stuffing his nose into one of his thousands of books.

I shake my head. What does it matter what he's doing? I. Should. Not. Care.

I hop off the bed, slam my own blinds shut and whip the curtains together. My gaze flicks to the shelves lining the wall. They have been carefully constructed to conceal accusing material, with colorful doors that slide across it, revealing some things, and hiding others. Out of habit, I check over my shoulder before I slide open one of the doors, hiding the lines of lip gloss and compact mirrors and opening the section of the shelf holding several books about the Black Night.

I quickly grab the desired book and a flashlight and slam the door shut. Some of the lip gloss topples over, but I make no attempt to straighten them. Must get under the covers stat! I curl up in the middle of my bed and throw the comforter over myself.

My sanctuary lies here as I open the book I've read thousands of times and purge my mind with paragraphs about Lady of the Lake. Nimue is my idol. No one will ever know, but I base most of my wardrobe off her.

I don't know how long it's been before my phone buzzes on my nightstand. Yeah, my mind turns off to the rest of the world when I nerd-out. I turn off the flashlight and pull the comforter off my head, keeping the book hidden as I reach over for the cell.

My stomach used to flutter whenever I read Scourge's name on the caller ID but now I feel nothing. I really don't want to talk to my current boyfriend. He'd call me some absurd pet name and ask where I was. So I let voicemail grab it.

I hear the text vibrate a few minutes later as I am carefully placing my book back on its shelf.

Where's Ur sexy ass? You better get here before more girls try hitting on me.

Ugh. I think his ego can keep him company for a while. Still, I let him know who's in charge of this relationship.

Another rule that's off the record: stay in control of all the boys you let kiss you. That way they don't end up in your pants unless you want them there.

I'm not feeling so good, so I'm not going.

There's no response, but I don't care. It won't be the first boyfriend who found someone new before breaking it off with me. I do not put out. Though, I don't care if they tell people I do. Helps with the rep without me actually having to do that part with guys who've been with who knows who. Score!

I kinda feel bad for the girl who ends up in his arms tonight. Scourge is a totally status thing. I use him and he uses me. We both know it, and neither of us really cares. It's been about three weeks, so we've pretty much hit our limit anyway. He is a good kisser though. I'll give him that one.

I look at the closed curtains, thinking of another boy with amazing kissing abilities, but I shove the thought from my mind before I lose it completely to blissed-out Sonic wonderland.

"Hey, I thought you were going out tonight?" My twin sister waltzes in and plops on my bed. Her pink quills have been curled and she's covered in pounds of makeup. She's wearing a Ramones punk-rock fashioned vest tank top with a black leather jacket and some denim shorts, making what little curves she has show more. She's only seventeen, but in this outfit, and those quills, she could pass for a full on adult. I raise my eyebrows at her.

"And you thought you'd tag along?"

"Mom and Dad won't know, and I'll leave you alone. I promise."

I shake my head. "I'm not going. So you can't either."

"Why not?"

"There's gonna be alcohol, Rosy."

She gives me a look that says, "You're the biggest hypocrite." She's totally right so I play the tattletale card.

"And because I'll tell Mom and Dad you went out while they were gone."

She stands and smiles. "You know, if you're going to start tossing around threats, I'd be a little more worried about what I'd tell them about you."

I give her my best impression of Erazor Djinn on crack. "Fine, go out. See if they even let you in without me."

She tosses her quills over her shoulder and narrows her eyes. "Fine. I will." She storms out of my room, and my gut tells me to go after her, but my pride blocks my exit.

I sit and catch my breath before I finally get out into the hallway.

"Rosy, wait!" I call down the stairs. Hopefully I've caught her in time. Letting my twelve-minute-younger sister go to an all-night alcohol fountain party wouldn't exactly make me a responsible older sister, even though I never really fit into that category. Still seems wrong not to at least try to get her to stay.

"Rosy!" I get to the bottom of the staircase, and she comes out from the formal living room, scaring the crap out of me.

"Someone's here to see you," she says bitterly as she pushes me to the side to get upstairs. Instead of slapping her on the butt, like I want to, I tilt my head to see around the wall. What the hell is Scourge doing here? His back is turned to me, and he's holding something in his hand. I duck back upstairs to change into my sexy pajamas. No way is he seeing me in these old baggy ones.

I grab the black silk shorts and cami and slip them on. I let my fake, deep red hair down—you know, Nimue— so it cascades down my back, and I quickly run my fingers through it. I don't worry about makeup, just dab some gloss on my lips. After all, I am "sick." But girls like me have to look good at their worst.

I throw a light blanket over my shoulders and walk back to Scourge. He still has his back to the entryway.

Okay Freak Amy, it's been fun, but Scourge can't know you exist.

I take another deep breath and get ready for my act. "What are you doing here?" I ask, letting my phony anger soak into my voice.

He turns around, and his eyes widen at my ensemble.

See? There's nothing wrong with me. It's Sonic who has a problem.

"Uh…" he stutters as he clears his head. "I thought maybe since you were too sick to go out, we'd stay in." He holds up a movie, which I'm surprised to see is a total chick flick. Gross. But popular Amy likes that crap.

"Do you feel guilty about something?" I've been through this stuff before. He's totally trying to make up for something he did that he shouldn't have done.

Oh well, time for a new boyfriend anyway.

His eyes lower to the floor, and I take in a deep breath and wait for it. The inevitable "I cheated on you" or "I found someone else."

"I'm sorry about that text. I didn't mean to make you upset. I was only kidding, really."

I stare at him, not able to erase the shock from my face. "Huh?"

"I know you haven't had the best luck when it comes to your exes. I was being stupid. Forgive me?" He tosses me a puppy-dog face.

Now I'm really thrown and I'm not sure how to respond. So I just mumble incoherencies.

"Um… I guess… sure… uh-huh…"

"So," he says, furrowing his brow and crossing over to me, "we're cool?"

I give him a nod, but then remember I have a part to play. I glare at him, shaking my head at his attempted guilt trip. His green quills have been tousled across his back and frames his icy blue eyes perfectly. Yeah… definitely a status thing with him.

"Don't treat me like that. I deserve better." I don't really mean that. In fact, right now I deserve a lot worse.

"I promise it won't happen again."

He pulls me into his arms, but I keep mine crossed, not responding to his hug. I do let out a fake sigh of defeat and say into his chest, "Okay."

He moves back and tilts my face to slap a kiss on me. As usual, I remove myself from the embrace—metaphorically—and think about more pleasant company. Maybe Pri Ma Djinn, but not like old King Shahryar. Heck, I'd take Sinbad before I made out with an old guy, even if he was a king. Though, Sinbad's gotten pretty hot over the years. Guess we all have to go through the awkward phase. Except Sonic.. He's always been hot—graphing calculator and all.

Right when I'm about to imagine another awesome kissing candidate, a different kind of urgency pushes from behind Scourge's lips, and I'm snapped back into reality. I pull away, afraid of what he's thinking.

"I'm sick, remember," I say, wiping my soggy lips with the tips of my fingers. Gag.

"I don't care," he says as he tries to pull me in again. I put my hands on his chest and push back, leaning my head away from his face.

"I do." I use my stern and controlling voice, but it's not fake this time. He better keep those pervy lips away from me.

He looks like he wants to argue, but he lets go. I almost let out the huge sigh of relief I'd been holding in my chest, but I catch it before I do. I mean, for all he knows, I'm a girl who lets just about anyone between her legs. He entwined his fingers with mine and mumbles, "So… do you want me to go?"

"Yeah. I don't want you to catch it."

"You don't sound sick." His voice is barely audible.

"Well, I am."

He pauses a moment and looks behind me, into the hallway. I crane my neck to see what he's looking at, but I'm forced back into an awkward embrace, his mouth trying to swallow me whole.

I can't move. His fingers latch onto my upper back and yank some of my hair. What the hell is he doing? I start clawing at his body, trying to break free from his strong arms.

"Holy shit, Scourge!" I shout the second I get his face away from me. "What the hell was that?"

"Come on, Amy." His hands continue to dig into my back. I wish I would've kept the baggy pajamas on because I'm sure he's drawing blood.

"Get. Off. Me." I'm wiggling around, hoping he'll let me go, but his grip tightens.

He smiles. Not one that's sexy or anything, but a very nasty and uber creepy grin. If my legs weren't trapped, I'd knee him right in the balls. "Every guy you've been with only dated you to get in your pants." His grip tightens again, and I try to keep my face as far away from his as I can. "You know it. I know it. You can't be mad at me for doing exactly what you were doing."

"Which is what?" I spit. He really needs to let go before I go batshit crazy on him. This is getting really scary.

"Dating each other till we got something out of it."

My eyes fill up, and the tears almost spill over. He's right. Which sucks. I'm so stupid. I should have expected at least one of the boys I dated to be upset about not getting some; so upset they'd take it into their own hands.

"I want you to leave me alone."

"I helped you out. How many people get jealous whenever I touch you?" He reaches up and brushes my hair from my face. I'm tempted to bite his finger off. "How many clubs have you gotten into because I know someone?" His lips are inches away from mine, his hand now locked around my jaw so I can't move. "I think since I've done my part, it's only fair you do yours."

My lips form obscenities around his as he mashes them against me. I'm wiggling like crazy, trying with every bit of strength I have to get away from him. I think I got in a good hit somewhere, but he's not letting go.

He bites down on my bottom lip, causing a yelp of pain to escape my mouth. I keep quiet after that, and he moves his kisses to my cheeks, my neck, my chest, while I still try to get out of his grasp.

Is this really happening? What is he going to do to me? How far will this go? I try to detach myself—again metaphorically—but it's impossible. No one has ever attacked me like this before, and tears start to leak out the corners of my eyes.

One of his hands clasps my butt cheek as he moves me upstairs. My stomach plummets as I hope against all hope Sierra stays in her room. She can not see this. I don't want her to see this.

We get to the top of the landing, and I hear a doorknob turn, but it's not from Rosy's room. It's the front door which is in plain view from where Scourge has me pinned. Scourge hears it too and he shoots upright, letting go of me long enough that I can fix my top before someone walks in.

"Hello?"

I'm too relieved to be confused about Sonic standing in the doorway. I jog down the stairs, coming within inches of his body, but stop myself from hugging him. My arms drop, and I pretend I was going to scratch my head, looking like an idiot. His puzzled face would be comical if it weren't for the tense atmosphere. I take a small step away as Scourge descends the staircase. I search deep inside my voice box for a cheery tone and blink away the water from my eyes. "Hey, uh… my dad'll be home in a minute and he can get you that book you wanted. I'm not sure where he put it. You can sit over there if you wanna wait."

I'm so glad Sonic knows when to act stupid and when to play along. "Thanks, Amy." He goes into the living room and sits down, not taking his eyes off me and my now very ex-boyfriend. No way will that guy ever get near me again. Scourge looks like he got attacked by fire ants with how red he is. He clears his throat and looks at me.

"I better get back to the party. You coming?"

"No." Hell no. I don't look him in the eyes, because now they scare the crap out of me. "I'm sick, remember?"

"Your loss." He shrugs out the front door, and I almost break into tears right there in the entryway. But Sonic's presence shuts me off from losing it.

"Are you alright?" he asks, getting off the couch and stepping closer to me. I quickly try to erase the pain and horror from my face, putting my calm mask on.

"Yeah. I'm not feeling well, like I told Scourge. So, I'm going to go upstairs and sleep it off."

"Amy, don't pretend like I don't know what just happened."

I feel all the color drain from my body. So much for looking calm. "What do you mean?"

Sonic pieces his eyes into mine. I fold my arms again and stare back. He's not going to get me to admit to anything. I'm not even sure what happened. It's like my mind can't catch up with the reality of it all.

"Well, next time I see him attack you like that, I'm calling the cops."

A hard lump drops in my tummy, and I gaze out the window behind him, to the perfect view of his kitchen. I know how that kiss—or attack—felt from here, but how did it look from there?

"It's nothing to worry about," I lie. "Really, it's always like that." Now I give him a fake smile, trying to push back my embarrassment and fear.

"If that's the case, I'm calling the cops right now."

"Wait," I say, coming up short on excuses. I don't know why I care so much, or why I'm giving Sonic the attitude, especially since he just saved me from something I never would've thought … I mean, Scourge could've … ugh, I can't think about it anymore. I'm getting more and more panicked, and I want to be up in my room, under my blankets so I can curl up with Wolverine and not think about what just happened. And even though Sonic did something for me I can't even think of how to repay him for, I find myself trying to keep up my fake persona. "Don't call the cops. I… uh… we got in a fight, and he wanted to make up. And… uh, I wasn't exactly done being mad at him, you know?" Amazing now I sound like a rambling fool.

Sonic studies my face. His eyes search mine for any deception, but since what I said isn't completely untrue, he lets it go.

"Okay. Sorry I barged in. I thought it was a problem."

"No, there's no problem." I force a smile. "Promise."

He studies my face once again before going out the door. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until the hot air escapes my nose. I run upstairs, slam my bedroom door and put on my baggy pajamas before curling up under my sheets and crying myself to sleep.

x.X.x

I've made Popular Song - Mika Feat. Ariana Grande the official theme song for this story. What do you guys think?