Katherine exited the bathroom only to run straight into a blonde dressed in black. She looked at who she had hit and immediately didn't regret it. Caroline sighed in annoyance and stood back, knowing she was going to have to move because there was no way in hell the prep was gonna move. But as she stepped to the side, Katherine did the same, and also added an apology.

"Oh, sorry, didn't see you," she said, staring at Caroline in a bit of a wonder.

Caroline frowned at her, and slowly walked through the door. She didn't say anything in return to Katherine, only watched her carefully.

Turning, Caroline dismissed the odd behavior and went back to her previous task, looking in the mirror. Some doofus had thrown a wad of plastic covered in marker at her. And plastic didn't absorb marker, so she most likely had a bunch of marks on her face from where it made contact with her skin. She looked in the mirror and almost yelled. Standing almost right behind her was Katherine, staring at her wide-eyed.

Caroline spun around in a bit of confusion and fright. "What?" she hissed, not liking the new stalker.

Katherine didn't answer her question, but asked one of her own. "Do I have to do anything horrifying in order to become a Goth?" she asked bluntly.

Caroline stared at her in pure shock. She didn't know whether to be offended or...whatever else that question could have implied.

"Is it hard to be a Goth? People picking on you and everything..." Katherine said again, scaring Caroline.

"What is your issue?" Caroline demanded.

Katherine frowned, seeming to snap out of her dazed state. "Nothing," she sassed back, becoming her old preppy self once again. "I was just making conversation."

"Yeah, well, I'm not one for talking, so bye," Caroline dismissed her, turning back to the mirror.

Katherine glared at her for a second, then scoffed and turned to leave. She was pissed off on the outside, but she really felt like she had just dragged herself further away from being a Goth...

Caroline turned her head to look at the smooth skin where the back of her jaw connects with the top of her neck. She studied the new marking, not as horrified as she thought she would have been. It kind of looked like a black spider web stretched across her skin. "Sweet…" she whispered to herself, seriously considering throwing a wad of plastic covered in marker at her neck every morning.

•How We Roll•

Kol entered the room and scanned it for his seat. When he found it, he groaned in displeasure. Right next to a guy. He had really been hoping for a girl. He made his way over and looked up as he sat down at the board where the teacher was writing something down.

"My name," the teacher started, without even turning around, "is Mr. Saltzman. I am your chemistry teacher, and I won't be teaching you anything all year." He finally turned around and rubbed his hands together. "The page numbers for today's assignment are up on the board. I'll assign you partners really quick, and then you'll follow instructions in the book. No complaining, arguing, fighting, screaming, exploding, smoking, swimming, or kissing until I leave this room - then knock yourselves out."

He grabbed some papers off of his desk and glanced over them. Randomly, he started choosing random names and putting them together. "Scott and Letter." A couple of kids stood up and started moving around. More and more as he listed off names. "Smith and Johnson. Styles and Tomlinson. And how about...Ebony and Ivory...which then leaves Bennet and Mikaelson." He looked up, concluding his match-making.

Kol frowned. He had no idea who the hell Bennet was. So, seeing it fit, he got into his notebook and scribbled his last name onto a piece of paper, which he then held up, flagging down this so-called 'Bennet.'

Bonnie sighed, waiting for people to sit down so she could see, or for Mikaelson to come find her. Thirty seconds went by and everyone had found their partners and was setting down, but Bonnie still didn't know who she was with. So, standing up, she looked around for the last empty seat. The partner to the person she had been sitting by hopped in her seat the second she was out of it. Bonnie dismissed it, telling herself this would be a good class, and she would stay in a good mood.

That all changed, however, when she saw the final seat - right next to some popular douche holding up a sign that read 'Mikaelson.'

Bonnie came closer and groaned in annoyance. Great, she thought, the ass from yesterday morning.

"You're pathetic," she informed him as she sat down in the seat, refusing to make eye contact with such a guy as him.

Kol didn't even have to look at her face to recognize her. "And you're impossibly rude."

"Great, we understand each other. Now don't talk to me the entire class," she instructed, staring ahead at the board.

"Just as long as you keep your bitchy comments to yourself," he sassed back, drumming his fingers on the table.

Both students stared at the teacher with annoyance. Mr. Saltzman, however, thought it was entertaining and he started smiling. "Excellent," he mumbled to himself. "Alright, I'm out. Have fun." He looked at Bonnie and Kol with a certain playful smile on his face. "Don't kill anyone," he added quietly, just for the angry two.

"Can't promise anything," Bonnie replied, knowing the teacher was talking to them specifically.

"Wouldn't hold my breath," Kol said just as Bonnie spoke.

Mr. Saltzman smirked and exited the room, leaving everyone to their own accord. Bonnie got her books out and began with the assignment as Kol merely stared at the clock. He waited a long forty-five seconds before becoming bored and looking around the room for people to mingle with. He saw a few guys that would be fun to talk to...some girls that were fairly good looking...a nerd that was staring bug-eyed at him...and some retarded looking tough guy picking his nose in the back. Kol sneered in distaste with his pathetic class and finally turned to see what his partner was doing.

"Are you actually doing the assignment?" he checked, like it was disgusting.

"Yes," Bonnie replied in a sassier-than-all-get-out tone. "Because I want to actually graduate instead of being stuck in high school for a total of six years like some people," she remarked, turning to give him a sideways look.

"I'll have you know I've only been held back once," Kol informed her.

Bonnie gave him a fake smirk. "Yeah, well I've skipped a grade. So, I think I win." She then went back to the book to see what she was supposedly reading.

"'Sooo...I tink I wiiin,'" Kol mimicked her, making a face and using absurd hand gestures. He wrinkled his lip in anger and went back to staring blankly at the clock.

"Wow, way to insult someone," Bonnie whispered under her breath.

Kol turned on her right there. It was like a mood switch. "Not my fault I can't come up with anything faster!" he hissed back, not entirely thinking about what he was saying.

Bonnie frowned and looked at him again in wonder. "Are you insane?" she checked.

Kol narrowed his eyes at her. "Like I said, impossibly rude," he repeated himself.

Bonnie watched him for a few seconds, then propped her elbow up on the table and turned towards him. "So," she started, acting like she was going to have an actual conversation with him. "Tell me about your girlfriend," she said in an enthusiastic voice.

Kol frowned and gave her a questioning look.

Bonnie continued without explaining herself. "I'm guessing she's five-five, blonde, hourglass shaped, pearl teeth." She stopped for a second to smirk at him. "Imaginary..."

Kol, finally getting it, turned himself in his seat, too. He leaned forward to get in her face. "I'll have you know I have a very sexy girlfriend. Way hotter than you," he informed her, kinda exaggerating.

"Oh really?" she asked, still sounding mockingly interested. "Well, I don't know how you did things on the Funny Farm, but here, dating your mother is illegal."

"I'm not from the Funny Farm," Kol defended, completely missing the rest of the sentence.

"But you admit you're dating your mother?" Bonnie asked.

"Wha–" Then he got it. He leaned back and glared at Bonnie. "If you weren't a girl, Bennet, I'd have punched you in the face so hard by now..." he threated.

"If you weren't a girl, Mikaelson, I'd have mistaken you for being gay." With that, she smiled to herself and went back to reading the text book, proud of herself.

Kol, however, started blushing a bit, and cursed himself for not being able to come up with any come backs. I mean, really. He'd just been accused of being a mimicking, insane female who had been held back, would most likely be in high school for a total of six years, couldn't come up with come backs, entitled 'Pathetic,' and was dating his mother.

Fabulous.

•How We Roll•

Alaric rubbed his hands off on his pants as he looked back up at the class in front of him. "Everyone get that?" he checked. He saw a couple bored faced mixed in with the confused ones and the impatient ones that were waiting for him to leave. "Good," he sighed in accomplishment. He'd just practically summed up the 50s in little than ten sentences. "Read your history book, and you'll have a better idea of everything." He turned and headed for the door, kicking a ball of paper out of his way. "Lame music, by the way," he added as he pulled the door open.

Walking out, he heard a few kids already getting out of their seats. He didn't care, though. Let them do whatever the hell they wanted. He wasn't getting paid nearly enough to be teaching all of the classes at once and staying to make sure they were being obedient. He just figured he'd give them page numbers to read, and then move on to the next class room where he'd assign different page numbers.

Yes, Alaric Saltzman was one of three teachers in the school. One of the other teachers, Mrs. (find out Jenna's last name), was in charge of the special classes - art, P.E., band, choir, all those fancy classes. She did the same thing Alaric did – told them what to do and then moved on to the next class. The final teacher, some proper douche that no one knew the name to, taught math. And that covered all of the classes in the school. The principal was Mrs. Lockwood, who did all of the financial crap and worked her butt off trying to recruit other teachers. But no one wanted to teach.

So the school was pretty lame. But the students loved it. They could do whatever the hell they wanted whenever the hell they wanted. And the teachers didn't care, either. Except for Mr. Douche. He cared.

Alar– Mr. Saltzman walked into the geography class room and straight to the board. "Here's your assignment," he announced, taking chalk and scribbling random numbers down on the board. "Read it carefully because you'll have a test tomorrow that will be worth half of your grade," he made up. That always seemed to make them remember what they read. So, every assignment they read would be followed by a test that was worth half of their grade (ignoring the fact that he just gave them random pop quizzes that had nothing to do with the pages they had read). He turned around to look at the class. The same bored, confused, impatient faces were looking at him. When you've been a teacher for as long as he had, all the kids looked the same. "Great," he sighed to himself, heading for the door and stepping outside as he headed to English.

Jenna stepped out of the art room and walked down the hallway towards the other half of the school. She'd covered her four classes and was heading out to find Alaric. She looked at her watch. Five minutes – new record. She mentally congratulated herself as she turned a corner. She saw Alaric step out of the English room and turn towards her. He smiled when he saw her and reached his hands out to catch her face in his hands as he stopped in front of her and pulled her head into a kiss.

She hummed in surprise at his straight forwardness. Normally he waited until they were in the basement before he even held her hand.

He hummed loudly as he pulled away from her with a smile on his face. "Someone's in a good mood," she said, frowning at him.

He nodded. "Yeah, great morning," he agreed. "No reason in particular, just threw a wad of plastic at a few kids, that's all.'

Jenna chuckled. "You know, you're just as much a teenager as they are," she shook her head.

"Only to an extent. I don't still go everywhere with my posse," he chuckled. "Ok, I've got this last class to cover," he said, pointing right beside them. "I'll be back in twenty seconds!"

He opened the door and walked in, heading straight for the chalk board. Jenna looked at the top of the door to see 'Spanish' carved into the wood. She laughed. He was teaching a Spanish class in less than a minute. No wonder the kids only knew "Bonjour."

Sure enough, twenty seconds later Alaric came back out of the classroom and took her hand in his as he kissed her again. "I've missed you so much," he whispered.

"You saw me yesterday," she reminded him.

Alaric closed his eyes. "Shh…just let it be romantic," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

Jenna stared at his calming face. "Alaric? We're standing in the middle of a high school hallway; this is anything but romantic."

He was going to reply, but someone interrupted. "Hey," came a voice from the classroom Alaric had just come out of. "I don't mean to intrude," Damon said secretively, "but some of the creeps in the classroom are videotaping you guys," he said casually.

Alaric and Jenna frowned and looked into the room to see that almost everyone had their phones, cameras, iPods, and even a professional camera pointed at them. "Oh, God," Alaric uttered to himself before everyone started cramming themselves towards the door. Damon was pushed to the other side of the hallway as everyone started flashing the cameras. Alaric and Jenna had quickly turned and ran towards the doors of the school. But before anyone could do anything, Damon and Stefan yelled, "Stop!"

Everyone froze in their tracks as Damon pulled out his iPod and went to the closest fire alarm. Lifting the handle, he placed the iPod into hidden speakers that had been replaced for the fire alarm years ago. He fiddled with the buttons while Stefan shoed everyone back into the room. "Start again," he said, moving people around. "Back to where you all first start to run out."

Everyone obeyed orders, along with the two adults. They repositioned themselves, Alaric standing with his hands around Jenna and the door still shut. Damon found the song and turned to everyone. "Alright, do it in slow motion. Lights…" The lights remained the same. "Cameras." Everyone held up their devices. "Action!" He clicked play and stood back to watch the show.

Baby you'll be famous–

Jenna and Alaric turned in slow motion and ran down the hall as the door flew open and the class ran after them with flashing lights and cameras.

Chase you down until you love me.

Papa–

Paparazzi.

Damon and Stefan smiled as they watched their work of art. The adults made their way to the school door and threw themselves into it, not stopping for anything…in slow motion.

Baby there's no other superstar,

The kids didn't exit. They stopped behind the shut doors as Jenna and Alaric slowed down and turned to look behind them when they knew they were in the clear, tired and breathing overly hard.

You know that I'll be your

Papa –

Paparazzi.

The music stopped and Damon wiped a tear from his face before clapping. "Bravo!" he called to everyone as they congratulated themselves and went back into the Spanish classroom.

Jenna and Alaric went back to breathing normally and turned from the school, heading for Alaric's car. "So," he said, pulling out his keys. "Where do you feel like going for lunch?"

•How We Roll•

Elijah sat down in the principal's office. He had been called about half an hour ago to set up a last-second meeting. The door shut behind him, but he remained watching the chair behind the desk, waiting for the man to sit down. But as the principal came into view, Elijah saw it was a lady instead. He stood immediately, changing his composure now that he was in the presence of a woman.

"Elijah Mikaelson?" she asked, stepping behind her desk and holding her hand out. Elijah nodded as he took her hand in his. "Mrs. Lockwood, the principal of the school," she introduced.

"Yes, I'm aware," he answered, taking a seat as she did.

She moved herself in such a way that her chair rolled closer to the desk. Her eyes scanned over the papers and files laid across the surface. She reached for a stack from the corner and took a deep breath. "I read in your resume that you have graduated two fancy schools that teach you how to be a teacher," she said, looking over the information again.

Elijah nodded. "Yes, the Universities of Falls," he confirmed.

She finally looked up to him, laying the papers down and folding her hands upon them. "You specialize in what classes?" she asked, having skipped that part of the paper because she'd gotten a call from the president about some safety hazards in the school. Something about making sure the fire alarms were working properly; but there was no need to check, she was positive everything was working perfectly.

"All classes," he answered. "I also am a major in counseling," he added.

"Thank God," Mrs. Lockwood exclaimed, sighing in relief. "The kids in this school are convinced that they must have cliques. If not, then the whole 'system' falls apart," she rolled her eyes.

"Well of course it would. Cliques hold people together, they make us who we are," he said like he was offended.

The woman frowned at him. But she shook her head and brushed it off instead of arguing. "And I take it the payment is sufficient?" she checked the big question.

Elijah nodded again. "Yes, it will do just fine," he agreed.

"Great," she said, standing up again. Elijah followed in pursuit. They reached their hands out again, making the deal. "Lovely to have you working here with us," she said. Their hands made contact, and the ground shook.

All the kids of the school looked up with dread. The vibration in their feet had confirmed one thing: a new teacher. And that could only mean: new rules. And that meant: their thought process would have to be altered. Which meant: the cliques would be confused. Which would lead to: the "system" falling apart. Which followed by: chaos and mixing of different people. Which ended with: …

Well, no one knew what it ended with, but they didn't want to find out. They all had just one thought on their minds. Make sure the new teacher doesn't set any rules. And if he did…don't obey them.

•How We Roll•

Bonnie rushed over to her math seat right next to Elena and didn't wait until she was sitting before she started rambling on. "Oh mi God. Did you feel that?" she asked, referring to the vibration that had gone off not three minutes previous. She didn't wait for Elena to answer before she went on talking. "That means new teacher. And all of the other teachers are still here, that means they're adding a fourth teacher to the mix, Elena!" she complained.

Elena widened her eyes at her friend. "Calm down! It can't be that bad. I mean, we might be mixed into the popular kids," she smiled hopefully.

Bonnie laughed out loud. "Come on, Elena. Be realistic."

Elena frowned at her friend in true offence. "Hey, can you at least act like I have a shot. You don't know what's going to happen!" she insisted, leaning back on her chair and watched her friend.

Bonnie continued to chuckle. "Please, I have a better chance at sleeping with your brother!" she laughed.

"You haven't slept with Jeremy yet?" she asked, truly finding it shocking.

Bonnie stopped laughing suddenly and became totally sober. "No. The farthest we got was first base, and even at that, he's weird when I kiss him. So really, we've made it halfway to first base."

"It's weird?"

"Yeah…It's almost like he's always groaning. For the longest time I pretended it was moans, but no…definitively groaning…" Bonnie moped.

Elena frowned and thought for a while about what she'd just been told. "What's the difference?" she checked.

Bonnie thought for words. "Well…you know…groaning is like…he hates it. And moaning is him liking it," she explained.

Elena stared at her like she's crazy. "There isn't a difference," she concluded.

"Yes, there is!" Bonnie insisted, leaning closer to Elena because she was having trouble hearing over the Popular Girls being noisy behind them. Rebekah was leading the group in obnoxious giggles.

"What?" Elena hissed, not liking being confused.

Bonnie bit her bottom lip. She didn't know how to explain this. "Moaning is like… Mmmm," she moaned in a very, very, very low voice.

Elena leaned forward, trying to hear. "What?"

"Mmm," she said again a tiny bit louder.

"What?" Elena asked, getting closer.

"Mmmmmm," she dragged out louder.

The girls were way too close by now. Elena frowning at Bonnie, and Bonnie moaning in return.

"And that's groaning?" Elena checked.

"Ehhhh," Bonnie sounded the groan.

"Moaning?"

"No, that was groaning. The other one was moaning."

"The 'Ehhh'?"

"No. Mmmmm….." Bonnie's noise died down as she realized her moaning was the only sound in the classroom.

"What the hell are you doing?" someone asked in disgust and confusion from the side.

Elena and Bonnie both turned to see the group of popular girls, some of the jocks, a Goth, some nerds, and Meredith and her group of Freaks were all frowning at them. "Umm," Bonnie said faintly. "Pretending we're animals?" she tried, hoping that was good enough.

"Mmm, kinky," one of the Freaks said. Meredith smiled at whoever had spoken and that group started snickering.

"Sluts," Bonnie sneered at them.

Almost all of them turned back to her and winked simultaneously.

Rebekah still had her lip curled at the two. "You're not lezbos are you?" she demanded in disgust.

Bonnie shook her head, finally pulling back and sitting correctly in her seat. "No," she mumbled.

Elena mirrored her only a second behind. "No," she said right after Bonnie's word was finished.

Katherine frowned at the two even harder. "Do you do this often?"

"No."

"No."

"Do you want to?" Meredith asked, crossing her arms and giving them an offering look.

"No," they said together.

Right then Mr. Douche walked into the room, staring sternly at everyone. Rebekah, the preps, the Freaks (Outcasts), jocks, Goth, nerds, and the two girls turned to look at him in a bit of a hatred/frightened/annoyed/'Shit' look. "Sit," he demanded, and everyone plopped into their seats, most of them inwardly groaning.

He walked over to the board, his bald head reflecting the lights. His tucked in shirt was coming undone in the back, but no one was going to tell him. That would be an immediate detention for 'looking at his butt.' "Today, we'll be adding single digit numbers together," he informed them. Half of the class frowned, while the other half felt incredibly lucky for the easy task. "Looking over your previous tests, half of you had no idea what nine plus two was," he said in a disapproving voice. "So, I've put together another test of strictly addition." He reached into his desk with two hands and lifted, with effort, a giant stack of papers out onto his desk. He looked up. "First row," he said, and everyone knew that the first row of kids was meant to go up and receive their assignments.

Macho football player was the first in the row, and he sighed heavily as he stood up and approached the desk. Mr. Douche lifted an inch thick stack of paper and handed it to him. Macho dude looked at it. "What the f–" everyone in the class gasped incredibly loudly "–k is this?" he finished, and everyone went back to acting natural.

Mr. Douche glared at him. "Your assignment for today. Now, take a seat before I throw you in detention," he ordered, preparing to hand the next stack to the next student.

Elena, who was third in line, stretched her head to look over Macho dude's paper as he walked pass. She saw rows and rows of addition problems that were incredibly easy. But if each page was like that, this was going to be hell. And sure enough, when she got her packet, she flipped through it to see each page had a different assortment of simple, easy, boring 6+7 like problems.

"If this is not done by the time class ends, you will take home two more booklets and complete them by tomorrow morning," Mr. Douche added.

Rebekah moaned loudly from the back of the class. "Shoot me now," she said plenty loud.

"I'll be happy to," Mr. Douche responded to her. "As soon as you finish all of the problems."

•How We Roll•

Meredith inhaled the pot and chuckled at her reflection in the bus's window. Someone was making sandwiches in there, so no one was allowed in. Something about a secret recipe. It wasn't drugs or anything; this retard just liked putting extra pickles on the sandwiches and then act like he'd spiced it with some drug from Cuba. And most of them believed him. That's why she was smoking up then, to get herself ready for the two pieces of bread stuffed with nothing but pickles.

Over in a corner, some freak with an afro was playing with two sticks, claiming he could make fire. Tyler had already tossed him a lighter, just to remind him it was the 21st century. Tyler was now flirting with some girls that were new to the club. They'd over done themselves. Yes, you had to dress like a slut, but these girls were in halter tops that would have fit a toddler.

Meredith was teaching the new guys how to be sexy mo-fo's. She was so proud. They had the swag down, and even knew how to light the pot correctly, but they didn't know how to talk sexily. "Okay, listen to me. This is how you guys gotta talk," she said, straightening her back and exhaling all the smoke in her lungs and handed the pot to some guy next to her. "Check it." She put on a typical guy's face and stared at them with an open mouth and narrowed eyes. "Ay, sexy ladies," she slurred. The guys snickered, biting their nails while trying not to interrupt her. "You chickas wanna come ovah there, in The Zone, and get our groove on? There's a party goin' on, or we could just sit in the bus, if you like da loner kind..."

"'Da loner kind'?" one of them repeated.

Meredith chuckled and plucked the pot back from his fingers. "Yes! Da loner kind. They exist." She took a puff as she looked at Tyler. "Tyler's one," she made up. "He also likes being hit on. He's good practice," she lied.

"Oh really?" one of the guys, Trevor, questioned.

"Reeeaaaally."

Trevor rubbed his hands together and giggled to himself. "Alright. Check this, yo." He swaggered over to Tyler, and stepped right in front of him, getting his attention off of the girls. Meredith and the boys she was still standing next to started smiling as Trevor slowly took Tyler's hand in his own and started mumbling things to him. Tyler frowned, like he was horrified. A few more words were passed, and the gang started chuckling to themselves at Tyler's reaction. Suddenly Tyler reached up and slapped Trevor, the way a girl would slap a drunk that was hitting on her. The gang started laughing out loud, pointing at Tyler and howling in hilarity. One of the guys put his arms around Meredith's waist, thinking she wouldn't notice as they all laughed. But she did. And right in the middle of a loud giggle, she elbowed the guy in the face, continuing to laugh with the others as he fell to the floor.

Tyler looked over to them and glared. Trevor walked back over, holding his face and smiling at them. "I think I offended him when I got to the part about his thong..."

Meredith threw her head back and tried to make noise as she shook with laughter.

But it was all interrupted as the guy in the corner, with an afro, started making an odd noise. "Ahhhh!" he said. He just held that one note as everyone looked over at him. He somehow had started a fire right in front of himself, and was just sitting there making noise at it. Despite the fire and safety hazard, everyone just started making fun of his face. Someone, the guy with the afro's friend, walked over to him and squatted down next to the slightly large fire. He shook his head at the afro dude. Reaching down, he picked up the sticks, which the fire was glowing off of. He held them up, making sure the yelling guy was watching them, which he was. In a single motion, he flung the sticks over the building, somewhere out of sight. "Problem solved," he told the afro dude, who finally shut his mouth and smiled like he had won an award.

Everyone went back to their business before a sudden explosion went off from around the building, right where the sticks had landed.

Everyone stood still and silent, waiting for anything else. Nothing happened. Meredith looked at everyone's startled faces. "Alright, meth time over," she declared, smothering her stick on the brick of the building. No one argued. The drugs were put away within thirty seconds. Just in time because a teacher rounded the corner and stared at all of them. Mr. Douche.

"What's going on here?" he questioned.

"Uhhh," Tyler dragged, looking to Meredith for help. They were the 'parents' of the group, so they did the covering up. "Ballroom dancing," he declared with a smile.

Mr. Douche frowned at all of them. "I don't see anyone dancing," he interrogated.

Meredith took a moment to think. "It's all about the near touch..."

Mr. Douche's eyebrows rose, trying her.

"Except we've taken things to a very...very extreme version," Tyler finished.

"I don't believe you," the teacher informed them.

"Then juss as' the unicorn!" someone told him in a slurred voice. Everyone looked up to the buss, where a completely stoned idiot was leaning out the window, stroking his hand on the air. "Hhhhe wouldn't lie to you," he shook his head, petting what must have been the unicorn.

"Anything with a horn can't lie," someone else declared, nodding like it was fact.

"What are you talking about?" a girl questioned the last one that spoke. "Men lie all the time."

Half of the Outcasts started laughing, forgetting a teacher was in their midst.

Mr. Douche sneered at all of them. "There better not be any more disturbances coming from any of you. If so, then you'll all be sentenced to the basement."

Meredith and Tyler nodded, showing they understood. Mr. Douche turned and stormed away in his ugly brown shoes. When he was out of sight, Meredith and Tyler both turned to be retard in the bus and glared at him. He immediately got the look that said he knew he was busted. Meredith came to Tyler's shoulder as he lifted and finger and motioned the kid down. He frowned and slowly descended into the bus, heading for the door. Tyler crossed his arms and Meredith put her hands on her hips when they saw him exit the bus with his head down and walk over to them.

"Do you realize that you almost exposed us to the meanest teacher ever?" Tyler demanded.

The retard nodded in shame. Tyler turned and shook his head at Meredith to show his disappointment. Meredith held her hand out. "Give me the pickles, now," she instructed as punishment.

The kid slowly held his bag of dills out to Meredith, gently placing it in her hand. Meredith took them and held them at her side. "Thank you," she said. "Now go on, but remember that next time you do something like that, we'll eat the pickles in front of you. No mercy."

The retard nodded and stalked off. Tyler sighed in relief when he was a reasonable distance away. He frowned in thought for a second. "Do you think we were too hard on him?"

Meredith looked at the pickles in her hands. She nodded. "I think the eating part was too much."

Tyler agreed silently. "Next time, we'll just do that thing where we go 'And don't do it again or else…'"

"Hell yeah. That always scares them shitless." They both nodded in agreement for a few seconds, then just simply walked away from one another, feeling they'd done enough parenting for one day.