High school started… ;_;. Now I have to sleep early, at like 12 A.M..ack. That's not really early. I guess..lol. Since this thing called school is starting, I'm going to go on random hiatus; I can tell yall that. I mean; some of you witnessed my long updates haha.

I loved hearing your opinions on the question. I'll post it again at the end of the chapter(:

Oh and I keep hearing this lullaby/beeping sound playing..what is this. Like I don't know where it's coming from! It's just playing and it sounds so sweet and peaceful…it must be creepy! Like it's too calming, it's creepy.

Before I scare anyone (haha I bet I already have the day I started the story XD) here's chapter 12.

Thank you to Hoenn Master96 for the edits done.

…12…..

"Posture, Miss. Berlitz! Excellent Miss Ursula Lafleur —nothing short of excellent—what else can I say about my top student?" Fantina gushed.

Ursula sent a smirking gaze towards Dawn's way as the pink-haired girl landed the last routine with undeniable grace and perfection.

"Amazing," Georgia praised.

"Wow, you nailed it so accurately, Ursula!" Dawn said with astonishment.

Ursula was talented; that was certain. Despite the pigtailed dancer's thievery attempts last week, Dawn had learned to let it go —no that was a lie—she was still upset. But Dawn, wanting to be the bigger person, put it aside and praised her like the rest of the class did.

"Accurate? I was off-beat by a few seconds and I twisted too much. I also could have shown much more emotion than that -Please, just leave me alone. I mean everyone here already knows you practically obsess to be like me," Ursula bashed as she unscrewed the cap off her water-bottle. Bringing it up to her lips, she allowed the refreshing water to cool herself off; Dawn saw glimpses of Ursula's usual smug look even when drinking. It was as if the girl was born snobby.

"How original, what else is there to say about a typical self-absorbed doll?" Drew and Paul would equally be proud—Dawn stood up for herself and used sarcasm. Hence why Misty was smart, she remembered the exact words—which the redhead may had used in a teasing way and not legitimate. "You are turning into Drew." A small smile quirked up against the edges of Dawn's mouth; it seemed as if it were only yesterday. But just like seconds, days had sped up and finished quicker than any Olympic gold-medalist had.

"What did you just say?" Ursula looked intimidating; she pursed her lips and was slowly grinding her teeth in anger.

Dawn valiantly smiled, "I don't repeat myself to those who can't listen," She rolled her head before she brought her arms up, stretching towards the sky—well... Ceiling. Kindergarten teachers used to persuade the little children to follow by making stretching sound more…fun. The little ones actually tried to reach for the stars—some got up on tippy-toes while others tripped trying.

"I heard well enough," Ursula assured. Frown lines rivaling a stripped pattern appeared on Ursula's forehead.

Dawn only inched a tiny smile. The bluenette was lacking sleep; she was rested enough to know that—but if she had slept at least six hours she wouldn't have mumbled a certain obscene syllable.

The conversation last night… Dawn was a bit dazed: She and Paul had been talking more… Frequently. She guiltily confessed that she had conversed with him more than her two friends who lived in her house. Though the trio did talk more than the average family did.

She was someone who relied on faith to settle things: A dreamer, believing everything happened for a reason. She felt her irises bounce as she pondered on what the signs were trying to communicate to her.

Was something going to happen? Something that hauled Dawn closer and closer to Paul? A small chuckle freely flowed from her mouth, everyone loved to tell her that mere little fairytales were fairytales, and most dreams are just that—dreams.

The teen tapped a finger to her chin as she mentally pictured how—being the optimist she is, Dawn knew in her heart that a connection existed that would eventually lead them to meet—they'd meet.

Unromantic, because a romantic meeting would just be corny. She blinked several times before reanalyzing the first carton of her train of thought; an unusual little thought—random, definitely. Not that the girl desired it to be romantic, but she found the word…inappropriate to associate with any first-moment meets.

It wouldn't be straightly bland or blunt, but not of any certain category of all loving feelings. Dawn rolled her shoulders while crooning a song she deeply loved from her close-to-infinite playlists.

He wouldn't have soft eyes: Dawn couldn't see him or hear his voice, and she had no physical way to analyze using her knowledge. She had words influenced by his mind and with a slim chance, his heart. Dawn's own brain interpreted the messages, her mind created a little voice for him.

But his eyes were a given; they'd be cold. Icy or mysteriously dark—it was between those two. Paul gave Dawn the impression of him being organized, a complete neat-freak and probably decades worse than Misty in that category.

Paul's vocal cords would produce an emotionless sound stringing from the tips to the opening in his mouth. These little details were givens, the only ones Dawn felt positive in.

Hair? Height? Skin tone? Those were the unknown.

"Let's get back to work ladies!"

Fatina's shrill voice gifted Dawn's distracted elf a motion of spine tingling jumpiness. Taking one last sip of the sweet water, she twisted the cap and assured herself it wouldn't spill before carefully placing it down and getting back to work.

"To wake you all up," Mr. Brown sent a knowledgeable gaze towards the entire class's way, "I have a proposition; something I find particularly intriguing,"

"Field trip?" Angie suggested, "Particularly to a romantic play or a tragedy," She brought her hands to her chest and crossed them so they intersected overdramatically, she let out a small sigh as her eyes closed for a brief moment.

"Well if we're going to see a sad movie or play then good luck handling her Ash," warned Misty light-heartedly, she curved her mouth into a sneaky smile and looked pitifully at him.

The class chuckled—completely forgetting it was Misty who made the comment. To put it simply, Misty Waterflower wouldn't be elected most popular student in the class any year soon.

Ash's head leaned close to the surface of his desk; a scowl was in the beginning stage of forming. For once, it wasn't because of Misty; it was courtesy of his girlfriend.

The word was spat bitterly in his mind; he cared for Angie as a friend, but his heart cared more than necessary and accepted a role he didn't want. The next stop his train of thought featured the agonizing reminder that his date was on Friday. Wonderful, two days before his blackmailed sentence was to be completed.

And after knowing Angie for two years, Ash knew the girl had more tricks up her sleeve that would force him to agree to more dates. His conscience drowned him with chastises, and Ash wasn't being sincere to who he was and what he wanted.

But he was not society's typical viewpoint of selfish; to do what he wants at the expense of others could be shrugged off as selfish, despite it being with a nice reasonable answer. He paused for a moment mentally.

It wasn't because he was a selfish kid; it was because Ash was too selfless, he didn't want to hurt anyone's delicate feelings. He glared with apparent annoyance at how illegible his writing had turned out to be as he suffocated himself with numerous thoughts.

"I'll certainly take note of your suggestions," The teacher replied. "But to the dismay of some of you; this is not a field trip, but rather..a partnership assignment."

"That works too!" Angie's eyes seemed rather groggy at the slip of the word partner. Ash sophisticated his posture and paid closer attention to the details; the whole world knew whom Angie wanted to spend more time with while working on a long-term assignment. However, deep inside he secretly didn't want to; not because he despised her, but more along the lines of, 'I won't get any work done.'

Misty fought up temptations to shriek; the assignment wouldn't have been as horrendous as it was if it weren't for a small, simple fact: Misty disliked her whole English class —to be more informative— ninety-nine percent. The other one percent of the sixteen student class was everyone whom she didn't know or didn't mind. Unfortunately, the only one she somewhat knew and didn't mind (depending on mood and times) was Ash, and she had the most legitimate assumption that Angie would go hunting for her flesh if he and she worked together.

"Assigned partners," After Mr. Brown announced the news, groans flied from every corner of the wall.

The only thing that diminished, however, was her being one of the last to pick. She clenched her fist; she hated that feeling. To be the last one standing while other students have found their partner is a little hurtful and embarrassing. Friends went with friends, the popular girls and boys had crowds of people asking —while those left off stayed motionless while everyone quickly assembled with their partner.

The teacher handed out pictures, Misty received one of an odd looking mouse; yellow in color with a lighting shaped tail? Odd shape but alright, the style it was drawn in was clearly anime, and the mouse's ears were perky; it was shorter than other mice she had seen, but also taller than most.

"Behind your picture is a number, each of these photographs are completely unrelated, the numbers are grouped at random,"

Misty's number was sixteen, the number made sense as her name was, if not last, close to the end of the class list.

"Two and six," Mr. Brown announced. "Three and five, two and six, eight and ten, four and seven, nine and eleven, twelve and fifteen, thirteen and fourteen, one and sixteen,"

Misty saw the traces of Angie's number -six. Relief spread through her body like a virus.

"Are you number two?" asked Angie, her eyelashes fluttered when Ash looked up to meet her eyes.

"No," Ash replied as he was exiting his seat.

"Aw!" Angie screeched. Misty rolled her eyes, wishing for the ability to read minds so she could have covered her ears from the horrific noise.

The redhead knew it was only one project; if you were not partnered with the person you want, then suck it up. On the contrary, she sounded hypocritical herself because if she shared the class with Drew and Dawn, she might be slightly upset with the partnering arrangements if the one of the two was not with her.

But the reasons were because of how easy it is; they live in the same house for God's sake! Angie and Ash didn't, and Misty wasn't sure if his girlfriend lived close by or not.

Her eyes brightened as it grew larger; that little voice inside your head spitted the world girlfriend out so… bitterly, like a cursing, or a swear.

She sounded so tempered…

It was as if she sounded jealous.

No, she mentally denied it. Misty couldn't care less who dated whom; but deep-down she felt empathy for Ash. Angie gave the impression of an individual you would hope to avoid as much as possible. Ash was friendly, usually, while Angie was a stuck-up little—

"Has everyone located their partners?"

Misty realized she had dazed off and had dropped her attention; it was an unlikely thing for Misty to do.

"Whoever hasn't, raise your hand," called Mr. Brown.

Misty's hand struck into the air like a soon-to-illuminate-the-sky firework, unfired and still raw.

"There you go," Was all the teacher said.

Twisting her head, Misty noticed the second student with her —his hand up. Brown eyes met Turquoise.

Her partner was Ash.

"That can't work!" Angie cried out. "Misty would start fights with Ash and they would get nothing done! Switch them; she's a public nuisance!"

"They both have been displaying average control over themselves the following weeks. I believe they can cooperate together and finish the project," said Richard Brown while shifting paperwork into place

"I'm the public nuisance?" Misty rolled her eyes as Angie continued to protest her case.

"But why risk it? This requires them to meet up out of school with no authority! Misty could—"

"I'll just ask Drew, Dawn, or Brock to come along if you're so worried about your little boyfriend obtaining a paper cut. Don't worry, honey; whether it's one hundred degrees or sixty-five he won't touch any paper without mittens," Misty replied scathingly.

When Misty started, she kept on continuing; people have said she had the charisma of a lawyer. She was persistent; she needed to be —without it many of the individuals she had encountered wouldn't know right from wrong.

The ignorance of others bothered her the most; Angie couldn't exactly classify as ignorant…well, she debated that for a couple of seconds. No, was her conclusion —she just pissed Misty off.

"That's not what I mean!" snapped Angie, she histrionically extended her neck and craned her nose farther away from Misty.

"Shall I place him in an incubator while he's dressed with bubble wrap? I'm not going to commit homicide, if that's what you're concluding. If he's dead how am I supposed to get an 'A'?" Misty smiled sweetly at Angie, patiently awaiting her answer.

"You-You know what I mean!" Angie was speechless, her hands flapped uncontrollably around her area to express her obvious dissentient towards Misty and just about everything at the moment.

"Don't forget the sunscreen too, Misty," Ash playfully reminded.

"You too?" Angie's voice cracked while her eyes twitched.

Ash's irises slid to Angie's side, then Misty's, "I don't mind working with her, it's just a project, Angie. You're my girlfriend, not my mom; as sweet as your concerns are you don't need to worry. Besides, if Misty tried to stir trouble we all know who would win,"

"Me," Misty commented nonchalantly; she smirked to cover her bursting happiness. Hell, the last sentence didn't matter—Ash had told her off and said he didn't mind working with her!

"What the Hell?" Misty whispered, her eyes widened and she quickly buried her head away from anyone. She sounded like a fangirl; why should she give a damn if Ash didn't mind working with her. She didn't care, he didn't care—God forbid the squealing thoughts were due to her happiness.

"Sure, of course Mist—Misty,"

Most people wouldn't bother with pondering on a slip-of-the-tongue; but Ash proved himself to be below normalcy... as Paul loved to say.

Mist was her nickname; her close friends or people she didn't dislike called her that. He wasn't close to her and Ash knew they sparingly got along—a few moments they had understood one another, but for the most part... there's usually an average of one fight per day.

To him—she was Misty, or shouldn't be referred to as a name at all.

Paul, what do I do? Oddly enough, Ash turned to Paul for nearly all his problems—this called for a Paul job.

Except that Paul wasn't in his class, which sucked. Remembering a little technique he had seen numerous times on television; he began to imagine what Paul would say and do:

"Idiot, she doesn't care, does she? You give a damn because your relationship with her is fragile and you secretly desire something else blossoming from it."

He jerked in his seat; a few people noticed but shrugged it off—he thought—no it was Paul, Paul was the one who said it; Theoretically speaking. Ash was trying to picture what advice the ever-so-mighty Paul would bestow him with; it was not Ash thinking—it was Paul.

Ash quickly shook his head; it wasn't hard for someone to fall in love with Misty anyways. She was unlike other girls; outspoken and opinionated —sassy, sarcastic, and other characteristics mixed in with a certain mystery. He wouldn't lie; she was beautiful with an orange-red haired shade that worked. Her eyes were especially astonishing; especially when she's mad—

"You are a horrible liar, please, just get out of my sight and straighten your priorities —I'm trying to read a book."

The Paul in his head dryly insulted him; and once again, it was Ash imagining Paul's thoughts, not his own subconscious feelings.

A stack of papers explaining the assignment were being passed around.

Ash grinned; he glanced over at Misty and was glad that of all the people—he was going to be with her.

"You could eat that," said Dawn.

Misty had been looking temptingly at a bowl of red jello; she knew that adding an extra fifty cents today would eventually become a habit, and then, she would have wasted a hundred dollars that could have been spent on something else instead of getting an extra desert.

"Fifty cents today would mean fifty cents tomorrow, then all the other days when I don't bring a home lunch. And by my calculations, I would have blown a hundred dollars for a sugary desert by the end of the year! I really should bring a home lunch, but it's a burden to carry around, especially with the short amount of time we have to get to class," Misty sighed before walking to the cash register to pay for her lunch.

Dawn rolled her eyes before giggling, "Paper bags are disposable," She cupped her hands over her lips and loudly pointed out; Misty's peculiar logic was running through her best friend's brain. The logic contrasted Dawn's logic —if you like it, get it, but try to control yourself too. Misty's was better defined as, "overthink everything, whether it's a small or big problem." A kid behind her complained that she was holding up the line, she was flustered from embarrassment and quickly apologized before jogging behind Misty's footsteps. The two girls set their trays on the vacant counter before leaning against it and doing as normal high school friends did—talk.

"Those things can break, I don't trust them. And don't suggest plastic bags, when I was in kindergarten that thing decided to break and ruin my Hello Kitty bag," Misty felt the embarrassment come back; the kids laughed while the teacher lectured her about how heavy the food was for the bag and without the support of fabric-made containers, it was easily cut open and spilled.

"You had a Hello Kitty bag? Lucky," Dawn gushed as she searched through her wallet. The old thing was tattering; but she loved it, it had sentimental value to her. She decided that over the weekend she'd fix it up; it was just too special for her to replace, her Sobo had given it to her. While her grandmother was still alive; she has had depressing thoughts about the day she did— Dawn wasn't in the mood for a swing from a creative and ambitious feeling to one that's overly emotional. Story cut short, she loved her grandma and it was one of the only things she could have brought from home. When Ursula stole it, she was secretly upset about that too, but Dawn knew she was sixteen, and showing child-like emotions was an unwritten no-no for teens her age.

"I was young, what do you expect?" Noticing Dawn's wallet, Misty began to remember an event from last week, "I hope you aren't spending all that money at once,"

The bluenette shook her head, "Not all at once, but the guy gave me like five hundred dollars' worth of cash. I feel a little guilty, it could have been an accident, but it seems like a sincere event. Five hundred dollars, Misty: Am I supposed to let it collect dust in my room?"

"Pretty sure dollars can't collect dust," Misty's turquoise eyes lifted up and immediately beamed.

"You know what I mean," Dawn lightly hit her friend's shoulder. It wasn't Misty's fault she had to be literal; it was due to study habits picked up that gifted her knowledge. Oh, and it was the result of absolutely adoring the feeling of being right.

"Money," The cafeteria lady grumbled sourly. Not much was known about her; the elderly woman had worked in the school for maybe twenty years and was bitter—unless it was an athlete (with the exception of swimmers and less-popular sports), she immediately brightened when they came and the students fulfill their stereotype by kissing ass.

"Dawn, go first," Misty shifted behind the bluenette and stuffed her wallet back into her small, blue and black, bag. Unsure of the exact name, she referred to it as her long carry-on bag.

"Did you realize you could get a better deal if you bought something else?" Dawn raised an eyebrow; through the years spent together she had picked up Misty's speech and the meanings to her action. Frankly, it was a bit scary how she had analyzed and interpreted the redhead —Dawn admitted to writing down a few notes to assist herself in the mission.

"No," Misty denied.

"Lying voice, lying actions, I can feel your heart pulse increase just by looking at you, honey," Dawn smirked and handed her money to the bitter lunch lady, who snatched it roughly.

"Okay, fine, getting the pasta may be the same price as getting a salad—but it isn't. Salad is healthier, and will make me generally fuller. It also has more pieces than the pasta, about three hundred more! Salad with light dressing can be tastier than greasy pasta too—" Misty reasoned out.

"Either way it'll be fine," Dawn assured, "Let's just take the pasta and pay the nice lady for—"

"And this milk really is a one-time deal; it's like eight ounces and you can't go up to a water fountain to refill. The water is not only cheaper, but more storage for the liquid!"

"Okay we can switch the two—" Dawn was cut off as Misty prattled on.

"But what if I cut out the water? I could go up to a water fountain—"

"Most kids worry about their hair or make-up; this one here is worried about economics. Decide and get out, you're holding up the line," The woman rolled her eyes before returning them to the glaring position.

"Okay I'll take the salad and skip the water," Misty decided, she grabbed her tray to notice only a single plate of salad remained with the utensils and napkins. She swiveled her attention to Dawn; whose lips extended into a shy smile.

"I figured," The bluenette winked, stepping out of the line to wait for her friend to pay.

Misty picked her wallet out of her packet and carefully opened it up to extract a neat and still crisp five dollar bill. The woman returned her change-two dollars and fifty cents. Misty grabbed her tray to finally eat lunch; she swore she'd never buy one from the cafeteria again: it was too expensive.

"Please tell me you aren't thinking about what you could do if you stopped buying cafeteria lunch; it's your free time, use it instead of inventing Algebra problems," Dawn advised, they both settled with a small table farther off than the other ones. The two girls both agreed with liking the isolation feel; it was a nice privacy.

"It sure helped take my mind off writing a skit," Misty stabbed her fork a little deeper into the lettuce.

"Skit?" asked Dawn, her mouth half full. She finished chewing, then swallowed before she looked at Misty, head cocked to the side, asking a million questions voicelessly.

"English," Misty explained; answering the first mental question.

"Don't you dislike everyone there? And they dislike you too?" Dawn reminded, she finished her pasta and grabbed her bottle of milk.

"Yes. I was partnered with Ash; guess it can't be that bad," Misty said optimistically. Though she had no preference for English, as it was one of her least favorite classes; but there could have been worse things happening; at least Mr. Brown was fair. At the least, she repeated in her head. And like one of Dawn's numerous mottos said, "Think positively!" Her friend's cheery voice rang through her head.

"What's the prompt?" questioned Dawn.

"I haven't read it yet, we got it at the end of class so I neatly stuffed it into my folder," She emphasized the word neatly because she was, well, a bit of a neat freak. Though her friends may argue and claim she was germophobic —it wasn't that exaggerated. She just got a little upset and cringed when a teacher forgets to erase a little whiteboard mark, or if something is slightly tilting the wrong way, or if there's a speckle of dust she might grab wet wipe and sanitize the whole thing to the point where the point-one in ninety-nine point-one is nonexistant—but nothing too drastic.

"Let me see!" Dawn cheered, "I miss acting classes; best elective next to psychology!"

Misty dropped her blue folder on the table; she opened it and scuffled through the pristine pages, "Here," She carefully slid a packet out of the right pocket; Dawn snatched it out of her hands, wanting to see what the theme was.

"Oh, Jesus," Dawn threw the packet on top of the folder and began to chuckle. "I can't, I honestly can't even —oh God, I totally have to help! He is so coming to our house to work on it. And I'll be there! I'll have a cam—"

"Are you high or something? God, Dawn, I don't see why you're—what the Hell?!" In the description; three simple words caused Misty to hope this was a horrible dream —they couldn't, she didn't want an 'F' but she valued life too. However, this was because Ash was her partner —and she minded this.

The prompt was a romantic tragedy, and Dawn's "Think positive" motto was clearly fading in her head, being replaced with:

"Damn it."

May's day had been splendid, and unlike others who would mouth the word, she did not have any sarcastic intent: her day was fantastic.

Nothing made a student feel better than to receive an 'A' on a test or quiz; or to have close to little homework, or….

To suddenly receive a rose the second you enter the school doors.

May's back was aching, courtesy of the studying she had done the previous evening. Drew was leaning against a wall and casually threw her a yellow rose with red tips. It was sudden, but landed gracefully on her right shoulder. May started to twist her lock around till the occasionally-frustrating locker opened; the rose was taped to an area guaranteed to ensure it wasn't squished by any of her books or notebooks.

After taking a moment to admire the beautiful rose, May gathered her materials for the next classes and softly closed her locker.

She walked, unfocused and unaware of the majority of her surroundings, along the edges by the right section of lockers.

Without warning, she collided chest-first with a student; it took May a few minutes to notice that she was laying on the cold floor and the other one with whom she collided with was too, trying to gather all the lost pieces.

"Oh goodness, I'm so sorry! I didn't notice I'm really sor-," The other student stood at or shorter than May. She merely smiled as May explained the situation:

"It's okay," The girl responded.

She was innocent-looking with just slightly falling from shoulders red hair; but not the type like Misty's—a more crimson shade. Her mint-colored eyes glowed as her mouth quirked into a sweet smile.

"I'm really sorry," This instance was one of those days when a person would want to crawl up into a ball, hide in fear, and die. May had that feeling, and she felt her face flustering with embarrassment.

"It's okay! It happens, and it's my fault too. It takes two to crash, doesn't it?"

The girl laughed as May embarrassingly nodded her head; after gripping and reorganizing the loose papers and other school items, May neatly stacked them together. She handed the girl the dropped supplies, "I really am—"

"Sorry? It's alright, I don't hold grudges," Another one of her wide-grinned smiles came about.

"Sorry—I mean, I tend to apologize a lot, but I feel bad. I'm May Maple, junior," May extended her arm out.

"Oh nice to meet you," she shook hands with May, following the polite greeting ethic "Do you have lunch about now?" she asked, her head cocked to the side

"Yes, actually I do," May replied.

The girl winked, "Me too then, shall we go together?" Her eyes looked pleading, as if a 'no' would cause tears to spill out.

"Of course!" May grinned, "Feel free to,"

"Wonderful!" the girl said, "You can call me Anna; I'm a junior too."

This feels so short; I'm used to writing about 3,000+ more words lol. But, as busy high school is, I have sucked finding time. This is part 1..it's also sorta a filler. Next chapter will be the second part. I was going to do all of the events in chapter 12..but it would have been: 9,000 words, 28 pages—so yay for me writing a short chapter and getting it in not as late as it could have been.

Question, other than the obvious, (Paul, Reggie, Dawn)

Who do you think will know who "M.W", "Cinderella Man", Prince Charming", and Dawn (nickname less, lol) really are next? And if they don't already know about the situation... Who will know?

Drew

Ash

May

Angie

Leaf

Misty

Ursula

Anyone who gets it right will get a preview for it sent via PM. I won't say when it'll be yet but soon. I think you all will know in chapter 14-16. And right after I post the chapter before the answer is revealed; I'll write the next part immediately after and PM it.