My gosh, it's been a month! I hadn't even realized it had been that long! Sorry, guys, bad case of writer's block. But it was cured and with the help of my Fantasmic friend kingdom-keepers-rule, I am now able to present to y'all this lovely chapter.

I realized that some of the stories are a little slow, so I'm gonna start picking them up a little and focusing more on those.

Random shout-out to the best fans and followers ever! You guys are the best! Totally the bomb diggity! Yes I said it. Stay with the story, kay? It's gonna have a sweet ending.

Any suggestions are gladly accepted here! Seriously I love requests. Especially with Philby since I don't have tons of perspective on his part. So readers, get creative cuz I'm going to do my best to grant your wishes ;)

So yeah there's some Wilby-ness in here. Couldn't help myself! And Finn being the amazingly sweet guy that he is. And poor little Amanda, trying to stay close to big-brother Maybeck. How cute! And then we have evil Veronica being ... evil.

Without further delay, chapter 10!

Philby's P.O.V

Willa sat beside me on the bench, as we both talked alone in the butterfly garden near the back of the school.

Her face was flushed and the ghost of her tears still trailed down her pink-tinted cheeks.

Brushing a lock of dark brown hair back, she stared down at the floor, falling silent.

"Those girls are foul! They don't know what they're talking about, okay?" I told her softly, "Willa, never pay any attention to a word they say, you hear me?"

For a long moment, she just continued to stare at the ground quietly. When she did speak, she didn't even look up, but her voice was so soft. "Is that what everybody thinks of me, though? I'm just the girl who tried to kill herself." In a clearer and firmer tone, yet somehow ten times more careful, she asked, "Is that what you think of me?"

…

There had never been a time when I thought that someone could be so afraid of the people who care about them.

Even as I tried to show her that she meant more to me than just some coworker, she seemed to believe that I didn't want anything to do with her.

She was too scared that I'd been trying to push her away that she didn't even notice I wanted to help her.

There was a friend in me, and in Maybeck, and in Charlene, that she had been ignoring. Cole was hostile, towards all of us, really. But, otherwise, the rest of us? We'd never hurt her. I knew she has been trying to convince herself, but she seems to believe never is a hard word to understand.

I sat with her at lunch, which brought out a smile, though small, that lit up her face and made her shine. My friends came over too, and some of them actually talked to her. Despite being shy, she carried out a conversation well and they managed to make her laugh. It was nice to see her happy.

Later, I texted her when I had gotten home, and had gotten so caught up in the chat that my mom had to repeat three times that it was dinner time before I has even realized she had spoken.

"Who's that you were texting?" My mother asked, intrigued.

"Just Willa." I replied simply, hoping she wouldn't make a fuss.

And she didn't.

My father did.

"Willa Angelo? The DHI girl?" He inquired, incredulously.

"Uh, yeah. You know how she goes to my school and well we work together..."

"I'm well aware, son. But I don't think you should associate yourself with her."

"Nonsense, Harold." My mum intervened. "I think it's very gentlemanly of him to befriend her. She's a sweet girl, and she just needs a friend. She's been through a rough patch."

"We've all had it rough at one point or another but we don't all go with our hearts in the dirt about it." He argued.

"That's absurd!" I protested.

"She's emotionally unstable, obviously. And if for any kind of reason she decides she wants to try again and, god forbid, succeeds...you'll be carrying a heavy load for a while, my boy."

"How dare you talk about her that way!" I shouted. "She made a mistake and she's dealing with it. And you don't know her at all. She's gentle and kind, and lonely. All I want to do is show her that not everybody's going to give her a hard time because of that one mistake."

"Don't talk to me in such a manner, young man. I will not be condescended by my own son."

"As if you'd ever let that happen when you never even want to hear what I have to say about anything!" I countered.

"Stop it!" My mother said, sternly. "You're both being ridiculous. Sometimes, I swear, the only way to keep you two from fighting is to keep you separated."

Finn's P.O.V

"Missed you Friday." Amanda said casually, getting a bottle of paint from the back room for one of the customers. "I really could have used your help. I'm still a few inches short of some of the shelves and I couldn't reach the cans at the top for the life of me." She laughed, though it didn't ring like a song of angels; I could tell it was fake.

"Yeah, sorry I had to bail. I had plans that I couldn't get out of."

"No, I get it. It's Friday night, everyone's got something fun to do. No point in hanging out at some pottery store for no pay, right?" She concluded, before returning to the tables out front.

Her behavior gave me the impression she was angry, or at least frustrated. And somehow my not being here on Friday had initiated it.

For most of the night, she seemed to stay close to Maybeck. I hadn't noticed before but they did talk a lot. Yet, despite the little green monster's venom that trickled into my heart, I determined that it seemed reasonable. After all, they had been working together for a while before I came into the picture.

However, as the day progressed, I realized that every time I came near her, either purposefully out of wanting to start a conversation or to simply clean off a used table, she distanced herself from me. And every time, she would get dangerously close to Maybeck.

Now envy pounded through my veins as though the thick substance had replaced my blood. My arteries were too weak; it almost felt as if they would burst from the pressure.

At one point, not long before closing, she stole a glance in my direction and, in initial reflex, I looked up. Our eyes met. I shivered from the icily vacant stare she held, almost fearful, or conflicted. Through her eyes, I saw something. The way she saw me, a group she categorized me under. And it reflected back at me; different, alone, inimitable. To her, I was the puzzle piece that didn't fit with any of the others. And it terrified her to think she couldn't read me. True disgust rose within me at this perspective of myself.

In the split second that she turned around, eyes still locked on mine, she bumped into Maybeck, who had been handling a pair of clay pots. Barely understanding what she had done, she jumped back at the sound of the breaking ceramic. The fragmented pieces settled and the moment halted, leaving three teenagers staring at a mess of pottery.

Maybeck mumbled a particular word that, had Jelly been in earshot, would have gotten him a harsh slap to the back of the head, and knelt before the clutter.

"What was that? Is everyone okay?" Jelly shouted, rushing down the stairs.

Amanda gaped at the jumble, abashed and disconcerted. "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to." She stammered, kneeling next to the muddle and hurriedly trying to pick up the shards.

"Oh, no, sweetheart, you stay away from there. I don't want you to get cut up." The store-owner helped Amanda, away from the mess and turned to Maybeck. "Terrance, get a broom from the closet and clean this up." He nodded and walked out of the room to the back closet.

"I'm so sorry. It really was an accident." Amanda repeated, glancing at the shattered vases.

"Don't you worry about it. Happens all the time." Jelly responded with a sympathetic smile.

"I'll pay for it. Just take it out of my paycheck." The uneasy brunette stumbled on her words slightly as she ended the sentence. I knew she couldn't afford it, just as well as she did. This wasn't some job to help pay for the car her parents refused to buy her; this was all the money she had to get by. That meant every penny counts.

"No," I reached into my back pocket to retrieve my wallet. "I'll pay for it."

Amanda glared at me, but it was a range of emotions that blended imperfectly together. She was stubborn, but again knew she wasn't in any condition to turn down whatever charity she could get. "Finn, you don't have to do that." She urged, though in the back of her throat she stifled a silent pleading for me to go along with my deed.

"I insist." I responded as Maybeck came back in and began to sweep the debris. Amanda flashed me a secret smile of thanks. "Consider it my act of random kindness for the day."

"Well, that's very sweet of you." Jelly said, taking the money from my outstretched hand. "What a gentleman. You're a lucky girl to find a catch like him."

Amanda's eyes grew wide at this statement and she almost retreated, "Oh, no. He has a girlfriend." She uttered quickly. I couldn't help by notice the fact that she didn't point out she had a boyfriend.

"Oh." She said simply, before heading up the stairs. I heard her mutter under her breath, "A darn shame. They'd have made a cute couple."

Amanda's P.O.V

After work, I walked straight home, avoiding glancing up to see any restaurant signs and trying to ignore the sweet smell of food as I passed by. In truth, I hadn't eaten in two days and I was starving. All through my shift, an occasion growling came from my stomach and I hoped that nobody heard.

The intense hunger made my stomach lurch in pain at school. During lunchtime, everyone sat to enjoy their meals. And just the sight of it made my head spin with starvation. Dreafully, my famine would have to continue until Friday, when Jelly would give me my precious paycheck. And if I had to skip the bus and walk to school in the rain just to save a couple dollars, so be it. As long as I could afford something to eat.

My thoughts flashed back to how Finn paid for my mistake. Literally paid. No matter how sweet it was, no matter how much I appreciated the gesture, I didn't like the demeaned feeling I had because of it. Nevertheless, I thanked him for it as we left the building and told him I'd pay him back –to which he responded that there was no need.

There was something about him that I just couldn't help but like…

As I reached the final block, I let out a small sigh. Even though I had finally made it through another day and was dying for a nap, all I could think about was my rumbling stomach and the hunger that made my insides constrict.

Just summoning the last of my energy to get up the steps, I noticed a bag at my front door. I was extremely hesitant, knowing the pranks that some kids like to play on people in their neighborhood. But when I realized what the contents of the paper bag were, I nearly jumped with glee.

Food. Actual food! It wasn't much: just a sandwich, a packet of candies, and a can of soda. But after the past few days, it felt like a feast. Stuck onto the side of the bag was a yellow sticky note that read: Enjoy.

Scribbled at the corner were three letters. A. R.K.

Three days later…

Willa's P.O.V

Damn that Veronica. I thought to myself bitterly, glaring out the window to my right. Brilliant colors surged across the sky as the sun dipped lower, readying for nighttime. I might have considered the view gorgeous and pleasant, had I not been bounded by four drab walls and irritatingly bright overhead lights, forced to observe the vision of beauty through the smallest of glass openings in the side of the tiny room.

Four days. Barely four days back in the school which was both congenial and displeasing, and I had been thrown right back into the mental refuge I had just begun to outgrow. It wasn't as if I didn't know it was her fault.

The PA sounded, making the students jabber to each other noisily. "Yes?" My teacher asked, looking up from the board, where she had just started to go over the Series Expansion Formula. Hardly paying attention to my classmates or the intercom, I continued to jot down what she had written in my notebook.

'Can you please send Isabella Angelo to room nine?' The woman asked from the office. My head snapped up faster than humanly possible when I heard my name. And my heavy heart sank like a rock in my chest.

Mrs. Monroe turned to examine the room, before her eyes fell on me and I slumped back in my seat, feeling my legs grow numb. "She's on her way."

As I stood to leave the room, I heard some of the students oohing and giggling like they always did when someone was called to the counselor's office. Some of the others hadn't noticed at all, but the rest had simply fallen silent.

Approaching room nine, I saw someone push the door open and step out. With her signature smile and a cock of her head, her eyes glistened with distinct malevolence. "Have fun in the loony bin." Veronica whispered as I passed by.

Inside, Mrs. Smith had told me that one of my peers –who she said would remain anonymous- was concerned, and admitted to having seen me in the bathroom right before the bell rang and the students were dismissed from the cafeteria. Blade in hand, poised over my left wrist. I was breathing hard, tears in my eyes. The viewer, confused and afraid, had run to the counselor in a time of urgency. What utter bullshit!

"That's not true." I argued, calmly. Pulling up the sleeve of my cardigan, I displayed my perfectly untouched wrist. There was a small line that ran across the flesh, of a darker pigment, but it was from before. "I didn't do anything."

Mrs. Smith told me that the nameless student saw me hurry off to class when the bell rang. Yet, the fact that I had tried, that if the bell hadn't rung at that moment…

"They're lying." I felt my throat constrict and hot tears beginning to form. "Please, I'm getting better. I haven't been trying, I promise." I thought of Philby and how kind he had been to me in the past few days. "I'm getting better." I repeated.

But, apparently, Veronica's lie was just that much more credible, enough to have me sent away again. They couldn't have a suicidal student on their hands, now could they?

When I returned to my classroom, all eyes were on me, even the teacher's. I breathed easy and quietly walked past, to my seat. As I retrieved my things, slinging my bag over my shoulder, someone whispered something to their neighbor. I couldn't tell what it was, but I didn't really want to know. My gaze fell to the floor as I left the room.

Just as I was starting to feel like I was happy again…

There was a short knock on the door, but I remained silent, burying my head in my knees to block out the noise. I didn't want any visitors. All I wanted to do was go to sleep, dream about something happy, and wake up back in the comfort of my home. I let out a small sigh, tired from the day and slightly dizzied by garish lights.

I heard the door open, and then close again. Then careful footfalls strode vigilantly towards my bed. My heart stopped, causing a shock of pain to throb in its place.

"What are you doing here?" I asked quickly, feeling my head grow hot with frustration.

Finn gave me a dejected pout and said softly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Cautiously, he stepped forward and left a bouquet of sunflowers on the table beside me. He offered a sad smile and, without another, left the room.

I stared at the door for minutes after it closed. Confused. At odds. Shaking the feeling away, I reached over and plucked up the bouquet carefully. Studying them in awe, I smiled. A real, genuine smile.

Sunflowers are super pretty in bouquets! Finny here is gonna be a regular visitor for Miss Angelo, and maybe, just maybe, she'll open up to him ;)

Amanda finally got food! YES! Jeez, she was starving. Act of Random Kindness, guys. Great words to go by!

R, R, and R! Read, review, and request! Luv ya's!