Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Hello, hello!

I bring you Chapter 19.

Chapter 19 is loosely based off of She is the Sunlight by Trading Yesterday

The lyrics do make an appearance later and they are in bold and italics.

I'm in the process of writing Chapter 20 right now, so hopefully that comes out sooner rather than later.

Enjoy Chapter 19 in the mean time!

(Ps. It's a Rhonda and Curly story!)

"Your assignment today and for homework for tomorrow is a poem about something, or maybe even someone important to you. The thing is, you can't say in the poem what it is. Let us, the audience figure that out. We'll read our assignments out loud tomorrow. Start writing!"

For Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, there were a lot of important things to her. The walls and walls of clothes and shoes in her closet, her fabulous wealth, her lovely parents who let her do whatever she wanted, like throw parties and trash their entire summer home and not punish her for it. She had been…poor…before when she was younger, getting a taste at the lives of her fellow classmates. Her family had lost all their money and lived in Arnold's boarding house. She had been miserable the entire time. A princess and a snob. Sure, she was living the life that just about every girl in her freshman class could only dream about, but something wasn't right about it. Was it enough?

"Rhonda. Psst. Rhonda."

She heard a whisper beside her, turning to see her blonde best friend with an overbearing grin on her face.

"What are you writing about?" Rhonda paused.

"I'm not sure yet."

"I'm writing about butterflies. You know, because of how…"

"That's nice, Nadine."

Nadine shrugged and turned back to her notebook, scribbling wildly across the page where as Rhonda continued to stare at the blank notebook in front of her. She sighed and attempted to doodle on the sides of her pages as the bell rang and her classmates filed out of the classroom and into the crowded halls. Rhonda soon found herself surrounded by unpopular suitors and dramatically shook them off before leaping into the safety circle of her other rich and popular friends. She was a Hillwood High all-star. Girls envied and secretly idolized her; boys wanted her, seniors even made attempts at talking to her.

But she had a secret.

If her friends only knew, they'd shun her, never being able to live it down.

"Hey Rhonda, you ready to go?" Nadine stood beside her.

"No, I have French tutoring after school. I'll call Henry later to pick me up."

"Okay, see you tomorrow!"

She would stand by her locker every day until the hallways cleared, where she opened the door to a nearby janitor's closet and slipped inside. In a 8 by 10 dark room, she was still able to make out the shadows of a tall figure lurking from the back of the closet, a small smile creeping onto his face.

"Hello beautiful."

"Gammelthorpe, I told you. No compliments. No words. None. Just give me."

She pulled him into her arms, crashing her lips onto his. He tasted like cigarettes, cigarettes and cinnamon chewing gum. It was not matching well with the pineapple lip- gloss she slapped haphazardly across her lips the period before. They would crash against mops and brooms as she pushed him against the wall, keeping their lips and limbs intertwined. And then she would usually let go. She'd let go, wipe her lips with the back of her hand and walk out the door without a word, all to repeat the process the next day. This time was different. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, but as she reached for the doorknob, an arm reached out to stop her.

"Rhonda."

She turned to face him.

"I…I don't wanna hide from people anymore."

"Yea, well, you agreed to this. You can get this if you keep it a secret. That was our deal."

"I know. But can't we do this where I'm not constantly trying to avoid stepping in buckets?"

"No way! Do you know what this could do to my rep if someone saw us together? I'd be labeled a freak for life!"

"Is being a freak such a bad thing?"

"When you're popular like I am, yea."

"But don't you get it, you're so much more than that."

"Yea, I'm rich, pretty, sophisticated…"

"You're more than just a pretty face, Rhonda. There's so much more than that."

"Oh yeah, like what?"

He moved himself out of the dark and pulled her closer to his chest. She stood, looking up at him and noticed the long dark and slightly curly hair waving over his eyes, his tanned face and strong jaw. He has definitely gotten attractive since he had come back from juvenile hall, well for a dweeb. But the only thing on her mind was what everyone would say as they walked down the hall. She turned away from him.

"Rhonda…"

She turned her eyes to the floor.

"Look at me, please."

She looked back up at him.

"You have me."

He reached up to touch her face but she pulled away.

"I just can't…"

"But why?"

"I…"

"Does this not mean anything to you?"

"I…I don't know."

"Well…maybe I don't know if I can do this."

"And why not?"

"I don't understand why you have to hide from people. Let me know when you aren't too concerned with your popularity."

He walked out of the closet as she watched from the doorway, closing the door in front of her and sliding to the floor and put her head to her knees.

+_+_+_+_+kayhampster+_+_+_+

She laid in her bedroom in her silk pajamas, staring out the window at the night sky. She was attempting to fall asleep but she couldn't. Her eyes were betraying her, her thoughts betraying her because as soon as she closed her eyes, he flooded her mind. The way that he looked, the bad boy reputation she had always been attracted to, the way he called her beautiful, the things he was willing to do for her and the things he was willing to do to hide his feelings for her, just to make her happy.

But she couldn't be with him. Her friends would leave her, she'd never live it down, and people would judge her in revenge of all her previous judgments on them. So she continued to lay in her bed, moving her head from the ceiling to the window in restless sleep. And then she pulled out her English notebook and wrote until the sun rose.

+_+_+_+_+kayhampster+_+_+_+

Sitting in her English class, just waiting for another 20 minutes was going to make her explode. Her classmates were reading their assignments out loud, stupid poems about their best friends, families, material objects. It was surprising how annoyed she was with the topics. But the one poem that stood out was his. It wasn't an angry poem or a poem about grief. It was a poem about a rose, sure a simple flower in reality but she couldn't help but keep her attention on him as he read. And he would look up at her occasionally before putting his eyes back to the paper. She frowned and drew shapes on the side of her notebook as it ended.

"Very nice, Mr. Gammelthorpe. Our last poem is Miss Wellington Lloyd's."

She looked at the teacher in front of the room.

"Rhonda?"

She scrambled the papers around her desk before moving slowly towards the front of the classroom. The entire class stared at her, some rolled their eyes and scoffed, others dropped their gazes to their notebooks, like they knew. Like they knew that she would write a superficial poem as per usual. But she turned the page and began to read.

If all the flowers faded away

And if all the storm clouds decided to stay

Then you will find me each hour the same

Cause he is tomorrow and I am today

She stopped to breathe, looking around the room for a reaction, but got none. She continued.

Cause if right is leaving, I'd rather be wrong

Cause he is the sunlight and the sun is gone

And if loving him is heartache for me

And if holding him means that I have to bleed

Then I am the martyr and love is to blame

Cause he is the healing and I am the pain

She looked around the room again, noticing several classmates' passing notes to each other and whispering. Just whom was Hillwood High's "princess" talking about and why now? But she kept her gaze on a certain someone, who wasn't looking back at her, but instead kept his focus on his notebook. She sighed.

He lives in a daydream where I don't belong

Cause he is the sunlight and the sun is gone

As she finished the poem, it remained silent until her teacher cleared her throat quickly.

"That was wonderful, Rhonda. You can take your seat."

She stiffly moved back to her seat as she heard a chorus of giggles around her and slumped her head into her desk, her cheeks bright red. But she sat in silence, in the same position, until the bell rang and she was the first one out the door, afraid to deal with her classmates attempted to pull her aside.

"Rhonda!"

She walked faster and turned her head quickly to see Nadine and several other girls attempting to make their way through the crowds. She felt an arm pull her away from the crowd and she was almost relieved. Almost.

"Rhonda."

She looked back into the same pair of eyes that inspired her.

"I wrote it about you." She whispered.

"I never asked."

"You needed to know." He smiled.

She leaned up and kissed him out in the open for the first time, pushing him against the locker. He wrapped his arms around her waist, smiles permanently plastered on their faces. He kissed the top of her forehead. She could hear the gasps and the whispers as people walked by them and she didn't care. She was finally happy, happier than her things and popularity could ever make her. And that was all that mattered.

Hope you guys enjoyed Chapter 19!

Here's your hint for Chapter 20! (Updated as of 4/7: I changed the song...found one that's a little better for what I'm writing)

"Standing where I am now, standing up at all, I was used to feeling like I was never gonna see myself at the finish line..."

See you soon!