Author's Note: It's been about a week [and a half?] since I've last updated. I'm so sorry! I've been so busy busy that I barely remembered how old I am. Well here's the next chapter! PLEASE Review and Subscribe. Reviews mean a lot to me! They make me smile!

P.S. This was a long chapter and I really didn't wanna re-read it and edit it and such, so please forgive the grammar errors!

The whole class is staring us as we walk through the door. For the first time in my life, all eyes were on me. Maracelle is glaring insanely at me, her eyebrows narrowing.

Mrs. Wieber jumps up from her desk chair and runs over to us.

"My Good Lord! Where were you two?" She does that whole adult kneeling thing next to us. She squishes me and Zach together in a breath-taking squeeze. "You guys got me worried to the bone! What have you been up to?" I fidget awkwardly, staring at Zach for desperate help.

"I got sick," He replies sadly, his eyes bubbly and puppy-like. He looks up at Mrs. Wieber and she's in a complete trance. Oh how absolutely, adorably convincing Zach was! "I felt sick to my stomach and ran towards the bathroom." He says, staring innocently down at his white sneakers, "I didn't want to throw up in front of everyone on my first day, so I ran outside. Cammie saw me, and ran to my rescue." My stomach twisted as everyone turned their attention to me. Of course, the entire class was listening, and it made me feel awfully nauseous when Zach said that 'I ran to his rescue,' He blinks sadly up at Mrs. Wieber, who was smiling empathetically.

She brushes her hand on his soft cheeks, "Oh that's alright, dear. I understand," She turns to me, her smile big and proud, "and Cammie, sweetie, you've been a great help!" I couldn't help but grin like an idiot, it's not everyday that you get praised in front of the entire class, you alone.

Mrs. Wieber always praises us, but never as an individual. We were all one, and she never wanted anyone to feel left out. She always said things like, "My, my! Aren't these drawings wonderful!" instead of, "Your drawing is amazing Maracelle!"

Which, indeed is usually true. Maracelle usually excelled more than everyone else [excluding me]. Even though she was more spoiled than a year old milk, she was very competitive and self-centered. Either she was the best, or nothing at all.

Even though during Art, I draw lop-sided circles and scribbles, I am actually pretty good [not that I'm bragging whatsoever].

Even though Maracelle get praised for those 5 lined star drawings, I could have drawn a 3D version.

Even though it bothers me that Maracelle looks down upon me, I know that it wouldn't make a difference.

She'd still hate me, this way or that.

It's recess, the sky is blue and the sun is shining like Maracelle's hair. [Yes, the sun was compared to Maracelle's hair, not Maracelle's hair being compared to the sun!]

There's an oak tree in the far corner of the playground next to the soccer field. I run wildly towards it. I always love this oak tree. It was so tall, that it overlooked the entire community. Reaching the oak's trunk, the green grass blows welcomingly at me. I look around, making sure that no one was looking, before reaching for the first branch. I hoist myself up, digging my toes into the trunk.

I've climbed the Oak Tree about a million times, almost every single recess. I've sat up on the top branches, leaning against the soft leaves, the wind blowing my hair.

It takes me exactly 2 minutes and 38 seconds before reaching my favorite branch.

I look out at our playground, looking out at the kids running around screaming like there's no tomorrow.

"I wish-" I said allowed, my voice hollow and clear in the clear, I wish I had a friend. Finishing the thought inside my head. I lean against a big branch, like a usually do, and close my eyes gently.

Nobody dares to go to the Soccer Field. The 5th graders would KILL us! The 5th graders were a bunch of soccer playing freaks. They always "called" the field, as if they owned it. Even though it was our recess hour, whether the 5th graders were there or not, the field was theirs.

5 months ago, a 2nd grader name Dobie Carlson pitched his baseball onto the soccer field. Of course, all his friends convinced him that going into the soccer field was a bad idea, he just shrugged, thinking the 5th graders will never know, and ran to grab his baseball.

Somehow, the 5th graders did end up finding it.

The next day, Dobie came to school with a mission baseball, and a black eye. The teachers tried talking to him about it, but he just shrugged and said he fell down the stairs. Of course, Dobie didn't have stairs. A couple of years ago, his mom got into a really bad car accident, and Mommy would often come over to bring dinner for his family. Sitting in the car, I could measure the house inside my head. No basement, no attic. Only idiots would know, that Dobie Carlson, really didn't fall down the stairs.

Being the "Cheetah" that I am, rushing across the soccer field and climbing up the tree like a monkey, really wasn't as hard as it was; and being the "Chameleon" that I am, no one really paid attention to me.

Until Now.

I'm leaning gently against the Oak Tree with my eyes closed. I could feel the soft, cool wind against my hair, blowing it behind me. And then I felt it. Someone was looking at me. I could feel their sharp eyes watching me. I bolt upright, looking around insanely.

And then he was there. Sitting right next to me.

"Hey," Zach said calmly, as if we're not 40 ft above the ground.

His legs dangle lightly underneath him, his brown, caramel hair swaying across his green, green eyes. I jumped up slightly. My legs slip against the curve of the branch, and that's when I began to loose balance. I let out a little yelp as I begin the shift to the right, 40 ft bellow a broken neck.

Zach reaches out quickly, his hands gripping my shoulders holding me upright, "Whoa there, Cammie, careful," He's smirking charmingly at me. He's finding me amusing! I shove his hands off my shoulders. "I am very much capable of holding myself upright!" I said a little to snooty.

He lets out a soothing chuckle.

"You sure about that?"

I give him a playful punch in the arm and couldn't help but laugh along with him.

I look into his eyes, and he looked deep into mines. Our laughter died slowly, and we just sat there, staring at each other like fools.

There was a soft, pitching voice bellow.

Oh no, it was Maracelle and her crew. They were all around her, even some of the other boys gathered around, trying to see what the commotion was.

"Hey everyone!" Maracelle screamed, "Zach and Cam-mie! Sittin' in a tree!" Then everyone synced in with her, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

My face turns red and I could feel the heat rising up my throat. I look at Zach, and his face is once more, idle. There was no sign of embarrassment, no sign of anger.

Without hesitation, he climbs down the tree without mission a single beat.

Everyone crowded around him,

"Zach-ie! Zach-ie!" Maracelle cried, her voice almost pleading, "You're not really with that girl, are you?" She grips his arm slightly.

Zach didn't even bother to look up at me, and laughs out loud, "Her? Of course not! She got stuck up there and called for help, I only climbed up there to help her down," My stomach drops, my heart completely crushed. Zach leaves the crowd and walks away from everyone, from me. I could feel the anger and sadness rushing over me. My palms began to get sweaty, and the world started to spin insanely. I grip the trunk for support as everything begin to tumble.

As the bell rings the crowd bellow slowly began to leave, with me, completely alone.

A big, fat tear rolls slowly down my cheek, sliding off my chin, dripping off the tree like a lonely raindrop.

Once again, reality hit me. Why did I care? I liked being alone, I liked sitting alone at recess and having the Oak Tree to myself. Nobody likes me, especially someone like Zach. And I didn't care. Right….?