A/N: Hey everyone! Welcome to chapter 32 of We Were Merely Freshman. As a short disclaimer, the poem Catherine reads is mine, it's a song from my band. If you want to use it or want the full lyrics, email me. Also, I've been getting like zero reviews, but since it's only been like 14 hours since my last post, I'll let you off the hook. Anyway, pleasepleaseplease review and I will love you forever! Thanks!

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Catherine yawned. She opened her eyes and found an unfamiliar scene. Instead of her comfortable pillow, her head rested on a hard, wooden desk, one she recognized it immediately as the one from Poetry class. She could see the small drawings she and Gil had done together on one corner of the wood. "Gil!" she thought, turning her head to find not her giant Hello Kitty doll but Gil Grissom, smiling sarcastically down at her, the look in his eyes clearly stating that he knew she'd fallen asleep.

"Good morning, Sunshine," he said, grinning. Catherine's hair was rumpled, sticking up a little, and her cheek was pink from where it had been pressed against the desk. She blinked and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, looking to the head of the class for the hellish teacher that usually stood there. Surprisingly, no one was behind the desk. "He's off making photocopies of something. It's a good thing now was when you decided to end your little nap, or you would've been in some serious shit."

She took a few moments to compose herself, and had just pulled a compact out of her pocket to touch-up her eyeshadow when Mr. Absgarten walked in. He raised an eyebrow at Catherine, but didn't say anything. "Maybe he didn't know I fell asleep," Catherine said, doing a mental victory dance.

"Catherine Willows," he said gruffly, and Cath immediately stopped mind dancing, "Would you be so kind as to read your free verse poem aloud to the class?"

Toying for a moment with the idea of saying "No, sorry," Catherine stood up, grabbing the paper with the poem on it and taking it to the front of the class. She stood nervously, hands shaking, and began to read.

"You're holding on to me, making it so I can't breathe," she started. "You locked me in this cage, so when I sing, can you feel my pain, my rage? I'm breaking away, siezing the day, I'm gonna fly away on my broken wings. Now I'm letting go of all that I know, I'm gonna make a difference, I'm gonna sing." She took a deep, shaky breath and kept speaking. "You're squeezing me so tight, telling me it's gonna be all right. But I don't want your kind ways, I'm gonna fly, fly from these old days. I don't need you, I'm so sorry, I won't be your endless worry. I can't be your broken bird anymore."

She finished with confidence, sweeping an extravagant bow and tipped an invisible hat to her audience. She was met with loud applause, even kids she'd bullied in middle school were giving her a standing ovation. Mr. Absgarten smiled uncharacteristically. He'd know all along, since he accepted Catherine Willows in his class, she had the gift.

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The large, red, rubber ball came hurtling toward Sara, smacking her hard in the arm with a resounding thwack. Arm stinging and eyes watering, she took her place on the bench.
"Dodgeball has got to be the most pointless, idiotic sport ever dreamed up," she thought angrily. Her arm hurt like a bitch, and it didn't help that she was the only one out in the elimination round. Hell, even the girl in the wheelchair had managed to hold her own.

Sara watched as Nick threw a ball, hitting the star player on the other team sqarely in the stomach. He was so athletic, his arms roped with muscles, he was easily the best player on the team. "He's smart, athletic, and he's even good-looking," Sara thought, almost jealously. "He's got to have girls throwing themselves at him, why doesn't he have a girlfriend?" She was just speculating, though. Something occured to her at that moment. "Maybe he doesn't think the girl he wants likes him back?" Her mind drifted and she allowed it to think of girls he might like. "It would be one of his friends..." Her eyes widened when she's reached the conclusion. But no, it couldn't be. "Does Nick like Catherine?"

It made sense to Sara. "She's gorgeous, great body, and she's so tough but super nice. Why wouldn't he like Catherine?" For a moment she felt a little sad, thinking that her friends were all going to be coupling up soon enough, leaving her alone. Then she remembered that Catherine was madly in love with Gil, and so Nick stood no chance. "Ha!" she thought victoriously. She felt immediately guilty afterword, though. After all, shouldn't she want her friends to be happy? She wondered why it bothered her so much that Nick liked Catherine.

"We're all in these love triangles," she thought sadly. "Archie, Warrick and Mia, Nick, Cath and Gil, and whatever that thing is with Jim and Natasha. But who does Greg like?" She puzzled over it for a moment, concluding that it was probably Heather, a girl he'd seen him chatting animatedly with the other day. "But where does that leave me?"

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At lunch that day, Greg brought someone new to the table. "Everyone, this is Heather. She just transfered here. Heather, this is Sara, Nick, Gil, Catherine, Archie, Mia, Warrick, Natasha and Jim." He pointed to each person as he said their name, and Heather pulled up a chair and took a seat next to Jim.

Sara watched the new girl with interest, noting the intense, black eyeliner around her large, light green eyes. Her shirt looked hand-swen and was complete with lace trim and black straps with buckles. A long, black skirt and heels completed her ensemble, very different from the normal t-shirt and jeans that was the uniform of every other student.

"So, Heather, where're you from?" Catherine asked. She smiled pleasantly, having taken a liking to the new girl already.

"I went to Henderson, but I've always lived here in Vegas." Heather's voice was smooth, seductive. Catherine knew what she could do to a boy just by speaking to him.

"A private school, huh?" Mia said. "Your parents have got to love you or hate you."

"I can tell you, it's not love," Heather replied, laughing. "They don't approve of me."

Sara smiled. "The clothes, right? They think it's too racy for a high school kid to wear?"

"That's the understatement of the century."

For the rest of the lunch period, they went over their schedules with Heather. She was in Sara's French class and Band after lunch with Greg and Archie. Grinning, the three of them set off together. The newest edition to the group, Heather smiled. She was glad to have found some friends, and she wiped a tear from her eye as she grabbed her violin from her locker, trying not to let anyone see. She was glad to have worn waterproof mascara.