A/N: New DL thing. It's going to be a two-shot. Some angst and fluff rolled into one. SET IN CURRENT SEASON, but Dana has come back. In this story which has both Lola and Dana in it, they're cousins, okay? I would have liked to see them interact with each other on the show. Shame on Nick for taking Dana out.

Disclaimer: I don't own Zoey 101 "Stop This Song (Lovesick Melody)" by Paramore.

Anger Management

One

The clock ticking annoys me.

The guidance counselor, Ms. Larson, annoys me as she has that black notebook and pen in hand. You want to grab that book too, and that's the only thing we agree on.

You, yourself annoy me, as you sit across from me in those couches that are soft but make your ass itch after a while. Two years later, and I'm back, and get used to me because I'm not going anywhere.

"You know Cruz, if you keep glaring at me like that, your face will stay that way…" you drawl out in a manner I absolutely hate. Not only because it comes from you, but because it's so damn condescending. You give me a smirk that I really want to smack off.

"At least I'll have a face, when I leave!" I yell, not giving two shits about the scratching of pen on paper. "I'll break your face, Reese… I don't care how 'hot' you think it is…"

That's right, Pretty Boy. I went there.

"I don't think. I know," you say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You know how many girls want me?"

Yeah, I do. Airheads. Bimboes. Girls who are so desperate they have no choice but to suck face with you.

…and the not-so-occasional curly-haired girl, sitting across from you in complete denial…

I roll my eyes, and look away. Shut up, Annoying-voice-in-my-head!

"Yeah, I do know how many girls want you," I answer, with a sarcastic laugh. "The ones that fall and trip all over you only to go to sleep crying, 'if I had a brain and I wasn't a fake blonde with balloons for breasts. Boo-hoo-hoo'!"

Damn, Lola's starting to rub off on me. Melodramatics.

"What's the matter? Jealous?" you quip, and almost challenge me. Jealous? Please. You think whatever you whatever the hell you want. You can say I "ran" away to France, because I was allegedly afraid.

Make up all the bullshit you want. I'm not afraid of a challenge.

…but you are afraid to fall, Dana. Because once you do, you'll probably never get up again.

This four four beat, I would die for you…

"Okay," Ms. Larson says, addressing the both of us before I can retort with the perfect burn. "I've been observing the both of you – "

What am I? A lab rat?

"— and I've figured that the animosity you have towards each other is to cover up what's really there. Ms. Cruz, I understand you've been in France studying for the past two years…"

I hear you mutter, "Yeah, right…"

Ms. Larson raises an eyebrow at you, "Mr. Reese…"

I narrow my eyes. You see those hazel-coloured eyes glued to your so-called hot face? I'm about to gouge them out with the same pen Ms. Larson uses to write in that black notepad she never lets anyone see.

I'm fed up.

I don't know why the fuck I have to be in the same room as you, breathing the air as you when I actually wish you stop breathing altogether.

You don't mean that. You know you don't.

I stand up, "I'm sorry but these sessions aren't going anywhere! They won't as long as he is there…or here whatever!"

Your head is too big to absorb anything. Kudos to Chase and Michael for putting with your shit.

You stand up, and it looks like I've incurred your wrath. Hide me.

"I'm being difficult?! You're the one acting like the world has fucked you over! Get over it!"

Okay, now it's on. Okay. Regardless of whether or not, Ms. Larson is here, I will chew you out like the insufferable douche you are.

"You expect every girl to kiss your feet, and worship you. Ever girl probably will! But not this one!" I point to myself. I'm done with these sessions. Anger management has failed me three times. Will this time be any different?

No.

"Ms. Cruz, both of you, have a seat," Ms. Larson instructs. "Now."

I'm done.

I'm sick of people psychoanalyzing me. I hate that. Look, you're doing it now.

"Maybe I like them more because they're not so bitter and a complete bitch!" you yell, and for once, I'm stunned. I feel my heart – the same one you accuse me of not having – plummet fast. I won't let you see the real look in my eyes, so I slap you.

And damn, it feels so good to hear that loud smack as your big head jerks to the side. You think you know me well enough because of something that went down in the eighth grade.

Serves you right for thinking you know more than you should.

In fact, you know nothing, Reese.

I won't let you see the real look that resides in my eyes, but I can clearly see your look of shock, and slight anger in your hazel ones. Good.

Be angry with me. That's what I want, damnit! Get angry at me! Go on, I dare you!

"Fuck you…"

I grab my black Jansport backpack, and leave the counselor's office. I don't care about your reaction, or that I've marred your precious face.

You're infuriating.

Someone stop this song, so I won't sing along…

…yet so intoxicating…

I walk away and I'm in the middle of campus, walking, far away from you.

Wondering aimlessly as Paramore fills my ear with the help of my iPod.

I won't let you see the real hurt, and tears that wait to fall from my eyes, as I hope none of our mutual friends see me.

It's gonna get the best of me tonight…

I'm annoyed because you're the only one that could make or break me. No one else can break me. Applaud yourself.

You really should applaud yourself because you've gotten me to cry the millionth time in three years. I want you to get angry at me, because then I can return the rage. My hatred for you can grow and flourish while the love I have can fester away.

That's what we both want.

He cut you, deeply Dana…

Scratch that.

That's what I want.

You won't get to me, if I don't sing.

A/N: Review. It's 2:30 am so excuse grammatical things you might find. I tried a new writing style, and I hope you guys like it. How dark was that? Listen to the song as you read. It helps to set the tone.

I have no school tomorrow, so I might write the second tomorrow. Slim chance, though.

Damn, I'm tired, and I'm not supposed to be on this late. Goodnight, and review! Review Daddy Dearest, In the Morning, Noon and Night, and Dirty Little Secrets if you want more DL. Two are by me, one is by BrittanyOXYMORON. In fact, check out all of her stuff.

One word.

Amazing.

-Erika