A/N: Chapter 4!

Do you have any idea how hard it is to avoid someone in a school of over four thousand students? It's nearly impossible.

Of course, some of my difficulty might be linked to the fact that my beloved hair colour is very hard to miss and also that I have to loudest friends to have ever graced the earth. Some people have no talent whatsoever for invisibility and being at the right place at the right time, and I'm one of those people.

Wherever I go in this godforsaken school, I inevitably attract attention, and Sasuke is inevitably standing close enough to notice it, which results in me fleeing the scene as fast as I can, also inevitably forgetting something of importance there and having to abandon it to the mercilessly thieving student body until I know the place is cleared and devoid of any Sasuke, which is when I can go try to get it back.

Last time (read: just now) was in the cafeteria, somebody dropped his tray (that held extra-saucy spaghetti and a bowl of soup) all over my newly acquired agenda, that I'd been minutely filling with every appointment, soccer game, birthday and other important date I knew of for more than an hour just to keep my attention away from Sasuke, who was sitting just two tables away from mine, and in my rush to pick up my stuff in order to go buy a new agenda, I left my cellphone on the table.

Don't ask me why none of my friends picked it up and brought it to me, they just didn't do it. And now, I'm cellphone-less. I have no change to use a public phone, and I'm in a class where none of my friends was assigned, so calling my own phone is out of the question right now. I guess that at best, the person who finds it will call the contact called "Home" and tell my parents he's found my phone, and at worse, he'll keep it an reboot it. Which would suck. Balls.

Argh, and what if someone texts me something... well, inappropriate for public viewing and that dude (or girl, whatever) sees it? I mean, I'm often a subject to booty calls, and the guys who text me don't use very subtle vocabulary. Of course, there are worse things than traumatizing a random stranger, but this could easily get around school (although nothing about college is as bad as high school) and my reputation as a wallflower would go caput.

At best, Sasuke gets word of it and decides I'm too much of a bicycle to bother with, and at worse, my number is shared around between friends and friends of friends and my text and vocal inboxes get flooded. In retrospect, this is not too bad a situation.

Still.

Can't. Text. Ugh.

And no clock, either. No one bothered to put clocks in the classrooms, and I lost my watch a while ago, so there's no way to tell when a class of mine is about to end. Like right now. No matter how down-to-earth, hard core hipster you are, not knowing what time it is is the most frustrating thing in the world, and you feel kind of blind. Ah, what has technology done to us? (It's been phantasmagorical, that's what.)

Man, this class is just draaaaaagging aloooooooong...

Zzzzzzzz...

SLAM.

"GAH!"

Who the fuck just-... Oh. It's my teacher. He looks pissed. I'm pretty sure, had he had better aim, he would've smashed that dictionary on my head instead of on my desk. It's ridiculous, though. Even while being consumed by anger, he's still boring. He reprimands me for a good three minutes ("If you don't like my class, you can leave right now!"), during which my eyes go all droopy again, and he only stops once I've picked up my things, waddled out of the room and closed the door behind me. He invites me to leave, I leave. Simple.

Maybe I should go check the lost and found box at the student association, just to see if someone brought my phone back. I doubt it, though. A phone is an easy target for any broke student desperate to get in touch with civilisation without having to pay too much for it, and in a school of four thousand broke students, one was bound to pounce on my poor little phone.

The student association's lost and found box is completely empty, of course. The janitors haven't found anything (really nice people, the janitors. We should give them more credit for all they do, even when students are complete asses to them), the kitchen ladies either and still no sign of any of my friends, because a) they can't call me, I don't have my phone, and b) I left my three hour-long class after fifty minutes, as I was able to see on a clock in a hallway.

At least the school's peaceful at this hour. Pretty much everyone is either in class or going back home, and the rest of them are sleeping in the cafeteria. Walking through the tables, I try to spot the one I was sitting down at. Perhaps if I sit there, my phone thief will recognise me as the legitimate owner and return it to me. My fantasy's as wild as it gets, but it can't hurt to try.

Oh.

My.

God.

My... My phone... My phone's there!

My phone's there!

My phone's there!

My phone's there!

As gracefully as possible (read: awkward and clumsy), I run to the table, occasionally running into every single freakin' chair in between, and I pick up my baby, pulling it close to my heart. As I cradle it, I hear someone pushing chairs around behind me. He can do whatever he wants, really. He could commit murder right now that I wouldn't care.

Okay, maybe not. But still.

I've found my phone! It sounds incredibly selfish, shallow and material, but man, I thought I was never going to see it again, and that would've literally meant that my life was over. The dude (or girl, I don't know) can play around with chairs all he wants, there is nothing he or she can do to pull my attention away from my precious (insert Gollum impersonation here).

Except maybe tap me on the shoulder. I turn around, ready to explain to him (or her) how awfully untimely his interruption is. He (it's a he. A very unfamiliar he, I might add. Why is he trying to socialize with me?) doesn't give me time to talk. With a friendly smile plastered on his face, deep brown eyes piercing through mine and a large, strong hand suspended in mid-air, he towers slightly over me, obviously not aware of his height and how intimidating it is.

"Hey, are you Sakura?" he asks, and his voice surprises me.

Now, picture him for a second. Bulging muscles, large shoulders, strong features and impressive height. That's the kind of guy you imagine having a really deep, rumbling voice that reaches the bottom of your spine and twists your stomach because you can't help but think how horrifying it would be to hear that voice in a haunted house or an empty alley.

Well, this dude right here has the voice of an Ethics and Religious Beliefs teacher. You know, the soft and gentle kind, that makes you think of a short, round, slightly balding man with glasses and a beard and a friendly smile. Ah, well, he has the "friendly smile" part down, at least.

"That is my name, yes. It's very common, though, so I might not be the one you're looking for," I answer as politely as I can, trying very hard not to burst out laughing. Because, really, that voice? I can barely resist.

"Are you Uchiha Sasuke's Sakura?" WHAT!

"Excuse me?"

"Well, he just left that phone here, and he told us that some girl named Sakura left it at his house last night." Last night! "He asked if we could make sure she was the one picking it up. I'm just checking if you're the right girl."

"Oh... Well, I am." I turn the phone on and search through my photo files. "See? That's me." I show him a self-taken picture of me (the least blurry, which isn't saying much) with a male friend of mine.

"Oh, good. Will you go out with me, then?"

"Uh... what?"

"Don't you want to be... comforted?"

"Comforted? What for?"

"Well, everyone knows Sasuke only does one night stands." Oh, everyone does?

"I think you mean Sasuke only does easy girls. And for your information, last night-"

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.

I jump with a start and almost drop my phone. I hold a finger up in front of the dude's face while looking at the screen that just lit up to announce a text message.

"Hold that thought." (Okay, so I know it's my thought we're holding, but let's not get into petty technicalities.)

FROM:

Sasuke

Meet me at the cinema at 3.

I'm buying.

12:49P Thurs Jan 21

. . .

How-

Wha-

I...

I don't even-

I send back a confused "What!" and report my attention to the other dude, who obviously took my order way too seriously and looks almost blue from holding his breath. Apparently, muscles and brains really actually don't coincide.

"What was I saying?" I ask him.

"You were talking about easy girls," he answers matter-of-factly.

"Right. Well, I didn't sleep with Sasuke last night. I don't even know how come he had my phone," I reply dryly.

"Oh. Good. You'll go out with me, then?"

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.

I look at my phone again. It's Sasuke. Again.

FROM:

Sasuke

I want to talk to you.

Be there.

12:51P Thurs Jan 21

He wants to talk to me. Well, shit. Thank you, Karma, I really needed that. Can't he just be like any other college student and respect the privacy of his one night stands? I'm not his booty call, we don't need to talk. I shouldn't even know his name.

I need to vent.

"You," I point to the dude in front of me. "What's your name?"

"Uh, Juugo," he stammers.

"What are you doing in the next thirty minutes, Juugo?" I ask, stretching my lips in a flirty (and extremely phony) smile.

"I don't know, I-" I grab his wrist and pull him toward the entrance of the cafeteria.

Once we're out, I stomp my way through the hallway and up a flight of stairs, dragging Juugo behind me. We emerge on the second floor and power-walk down a few other hallways that haven't been used since the beginning of the term for cause of imminent rebuilding (so I've heard from the lunch ladies). I stop to try a few doors and when I find one that's unlocked, I yank it open and pull Juugo through the doorway. The classroom is devoid of chairs or desks, and a thick layer of dust covers the floor. I slam the door closed with my foot, toss my bag and coat aside and push my kidnappee against the wall next to the blackboard, near a window. He grunts from the impact and raises shocked eyes to me.

"What's going on?" He asks without a hint of nerves in his confused voice. I lunge for his neck and slide my hands under his shirt.

"I'm just Sasuke's silly one night stand, won't you comfort me?" I whisper in his ear, mentally slapping myself for being so ridiculous, and then I proceed to pull his shirt off.

Somewhere deep down inside, I know shagging some random dude in an empty classroom, no matter how kinky it sounds, won't make the Sasuke situation go away, nor will it keep my mind off of it. Especially since, as I'm undressing Juugo, flashes of the night I spent with Sasuke, although blurry, keep popping up in my mind and I kind of wish this were Sasuke right now. Which, by the way, I think is completely acceptable in my case, because I only want to have sex with him, unlike him, who obviously wants to go out with me. For some reason.

"What are you doing!" Juugo asks when I unbuckle his belt.

"I'm feeding grasshoppers, what does it look like I'm doing?" I shove my mouth onto his. He responds. Good.

I mean, really, what does Sasuke see in me? He found my phone, he very probably went through my recent text messages and I gotta tell ya, that inbox ain't pretty. Texts from my mom asking me to by some milk on my way home cohabit with party invites and texts from dudes prompting me to go see them for "some Christmas fun". I can't imagine why he'd want to date such a... Okay, let's face it, I'm a whore. Or something very close to it. I mean, I've been with more guys in four months than my mother in her entire lifetime. And her first time (most awkward conversation, I swear) was when she was fourteen.

I've never really determined if I'm sleeping around to make my ex jealous or just because I get a real kick out of being a nameless chick in various guys' beds. Maybe it's a bit of both.

Juugo spins us around and pins me to the wall, his lips still locked to mine, his breath heavy. He slips his hands under my thighs and haul me up, supporting my body only with his hips. And, I don't mean that he's fat, but those are wide hips to straddle. Through the fabric of both our pants, he rubs his groin against me, and the feeling of his hardness pressed against my core sends shivers down my spine. He lifts my shirt off and licks his way from my jaw to my throat and my breasts. I tangle my fingers in his hair, trying to chase away the images of Sasuke doing sensibly the same things flashing through my mind.

My hair sticks to my sweaty forehead and my panting increases by the second. Juugo thrusts up into me and a small moan escapes from my lips. He keeps a steady pace against my pants, all the while fiddling with my bra clasp. I remember when Sasuke took off my dress. That bitchy dress that just wouldn't unclasp and unzip itself. And you know what? He took it off faster than Juugo is doing with my bra.

Still, I feel hot inside, like I'm burning. I need to get release, and I need it quickly. Finally, my bra's off. Juugo fondles and licks my breasts and goosebumps rise on my skin. My moans get louder and more plaintive as he presses up against me harder. The perspective of having, ahem... "complete intercourse" with a guy at school is both arousing and disturbing at the same time. Not that I haven't done that before (I often need to vent and this is my way to do it), but today, it feels different. It feels good, but different. As if it were more wrong than it was before.

-

CRAP.

Is that... the fire alarm?

"Daaah!" I yelp as Juugo lets go of me and I fall to the ground. He already out the door, yanking his shirt over his head while I'm still scrambling to retrieve my bra.

I get dressed as fast as I can and run out of the classroom. When I reach one of the staircases, hundreds of students are already fighting to climb down, talking as loudly as they can about how great or awful it is that the fire drill interrupted their classes. I get in line with them and hope to whoever is governing coincidences that I'm not in the same staircase as Juugo, or anyone else I might know.

I look at the students around me (because I have all the time in the world, those slowpokes would have us all killed at least fifteen time, were this a real fire case) and it baffles me how filthy and debauched I feel when I think I was just about to have meaningless sex with a guy I might never talk to while they were innocently studying or sleeping in class. Even the rational part of my brain telling me I didn't actually have complete sex with Juugo can't suppress the disgust I suddenly have for myself. I did end up half-naked, stuck between a guy and wall, grinding my pelvis all over his. Anyone passing by (although it was highly improbable) could've found us, and I was risking that, plus expulsion and eternal shame simply because I was mad at someone I don't even have a precise relationship with.

Oh, and he's to blame too. I can't ask me out after I've thoroughly expressed to him that I wasn't interested in going steady with anyone and not expect me to have some sort of panicked, reckless reaction. And, I realise that now, I was panicked and I was reckless because, the truth is, I'm slightly scared of him. He ninja'd his way into my brain and hasn't left since the beginning of the semester, and the mere thought of crossing him in the hallway or finding myself in the same class as him makes me nervous. For some reason, he has some form of power over me and it's scary.

We've finally climbed down the staircase and the way to the nearest school entrance is way smoother, now that we have more space to navigate in. I push through the crowd, trying to keep my hands over my ears to protect them from the blaring noise of the fire alarm, and when I finally stumble through the door and into the cold winter afternoon, I realise some sort of heavy pressure had been squeezing my chest like a death grip and take in a deep breath to make it go away. My shoulders slump and as soon as I reach a patch of snow, I let myself fall to the ground, exhausted.

It takes fifteen more minutes to get everyone outside. Maybe I should just walk home, since I already have my coat and my bag. Hm, no, I should talk to Ino first. She knows about what I've been through and what I'm doing. She'd be able to tell me what to do about Sasuke.

I get up and walk back towards the school. Hopefully, I won't see neither Sasuke nor Juugo until I leave again.

A/N: There won't be anything heavier than that on the sexual side of the story, I don't think. No "complete intercourse", as she calls it. If there is, I'll warn you and I'll change the rating, but for now, I'm not really considering a full-out lemon. I guess we'll see.

Review?