The girls scream-fest didn't last long once they noticed Eddie bolt up the stairs; barefooted. "Piper," The name slipped out of his mouth with a dumbfounded tone. "I thought you weren't coming until Christmas Eve?" The perky redhead didn't waist a second and ran to hug Eddie. They wouldn't admit it, but they had some kind of brother-sister relationship.

"So did I," Patricia grinned, genuinely happy again.

^.^.^.^.^.^

Mr. and Mrs. Williamson weren't incredibly please that their daughter had broken a windowpane, all due to forgetting her key at school. They weren't too upset about the picture frame—considering it wasn't too precious. However, the murderous look in their mother's eyes told them she was not happy when she caught a glimpse of her prized vase. Much to Patricia's surprise, Piper had been grounded for one week; much less than what would've happened if it was Patricia.

A few days passed since Piper had broken into her own home, and Patricia and Eddie were whispering a prank for the principle. "All I'm saying is that you should be the one to unlock the door," Patricia argued at their usual lunch table. Eddie threw a glare directly at her.

"And all I'm saying that Jerome should be the one to do it. What makes you think I need to risk it?" Eddie sneered as he lifted watery mashed potatoes to his lips.

"Well, he is your dad." Patricia spat. "Why should we risk it if he's your father? It's a fifty-fifty chance that one of us will get caught; why not his own son?"

"Well, how would it look if the principle's son was trying to break into his office?" Eddie leaned across the table; so only their group of friends heard.

"A heck of a lot better than his son's girlfriend," Patricia leaned in also, but her voice was the same volume as earlier. "Honestly, I don't think you guys should do it." Nina stated popped a French-fry into her mouth. Amber, Mara, and Fabian nodded in agreement. "Awe, come on, guys. If it actually works, do you know how hilarious this will be?" Joy smiled widely at her scheme-full friends.

"See, Nina, Joy's in." Aflie loosely slung his arm around her shoulder. Joy turned her upper body toward Aflie. "Who said I would help? I just think it'll be funny." Joy tore Alfie's arm off of her. Amber giggled at Alfie's hurt expression and kissed his cheek. "I still think Jerome should do it." Eddie spoke, once again bringing up the subject. Patricia absentmindedly groaned and spoke, "Y'know what? I'll just do it if this going to turn into such an argument." The spunky teen grabbed her lunch tray and began to stand up. "If we want it done, it's going to have to be done now." Without another word or waiting for a response, she began her short journey toward the lunch tray stand.

^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^

Patricia Williamson jammed and re-jammed her black bobby-pin into the lock of Mr. Sweet's office. She turned her head left and right, watching for the principle. Eddie, Jerome, and Aflie hid behind the wall to the right of the door; following the fool-proof plan.

"Come one, come on." Patricia mumbled looking to her right once again.

"Patricia Williamson!" A voice boomed to the left of her. Her hand froze as she was jiggling the hair clip in the stubborn lock. I'm dead. Her mind registered the voice of none other than principle Sweet. Eddie, I swear to God, if your dad tells my parents about this… She wasn't able to finish her death threat—that was threatening to burst out of her mouth and travel down the hallway toward Eddie—because Mr. Sweet had reached her hand and yanked it from the lock.

"Patricia Williamson, I expect to see you after school; in detention."

^.^.^.^.^.^.^

Patricia sighed as she dramatically set her book bag down on a scuffed wooden desk. There were multiple signatures messily scribbled into it. However, the one that stood out the most was her own name.

Patricia Williamson – Queen Bee of Detention.

She hadn't written it, though; Mike had. They practically ruled detention together. That was until he ditched her for some bleach-blonde preppy cheerleader. She hasn't seen him in detention since, and she was teased for that.

The large Arabic numeral clock that hung above the class door ticked like there was absolutely no tomorrow. Tick, tick, tick, tick… the continuous sound almost enough for Patricia to begin tearing her hair out; almost. She clicked her nails on the rusted bar underneath the table. Her head swiveled backward and caught a glimpse of some regular detention-ies. The three troublemakers gave her their best death glare, but it was no match for Patricia's. Her face molded into the perfect glare and the impact of the look forced the three to immediately look the other way. Smiling, satisfied with her work, she heard the bell ring; signaling detention was finally over.

She was last to grab her bag and walk out of the door, but she wished she had left first. A large, rough hand caught her wrist tightly as the anonymous attacker dragged her toward the wall behind a wall of lockers. "What do you want?" Patricia sneered as she tore her wrist from the mysterious person's hand. She rubbed her sore wrist and pulled it to her chest. Her head shifted upward and her eyes landed on a pair of deadly ones. "Mike?"

"Hey, sweetheart," Mike smirked and brushed his thumb over her cheek. She whipped her head away from his reach and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "If you dare call me that again, I swear on all that is holy, Michael, you will never have kids." Her hand loosened and she stepped back, adjusting her bag strap, as if nothing had happened. She turned on her heel, hoping to escape the on-coming scene, but his hand yanked her wrist; once again.

"Listen, doll, if you let me explain, maybe I'll take you back," His voice was full of demonic venom.

"Let me go." Her voice was imperative and contained much more deadly venom, that he released her hand and stepped back as if he'd been slapped. He quickly recovered and grabbed her forearms tightly. Her eyes swelled with unusual tears as she could already feel the bruises rising among her pale skin. "If you tell anyone about this, you will regret it Williamson." He threw her hands back toward her and stepped past her, walking away. No, I won't let it happen again. Patricia reached forward and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. Once his body faced hers, she lifted her fist and it harshly collided with his nose. A red crimson color dripping from her first tow knuckles, she dashed from the scene, and rushed to the bathroom.

Surely, if she had stayed much longer, she would've been granted another detention this month. She turned on the room-temperature water and rinsed her throbbing knuckles. As she splashed water onto her hands, she got a look of her arms. They were covered in blue, purple, and black bruises, just as she suspected.

She sighed as she dried her hands on a loose piece of scruffy bathroom hand-towel. How was she going to explain this to her parents? Oh, don't even get her started on Eddie; that would be terrible. She pulled her leather jacket out of her bag and slipped it on before headed for the after-school busses. She climbed the stairs quickly and stalked to the back of the bus. She took her seat and pulled her ear-phones up to her ears. She blasted her music and thought about how she would hide all of this from everyone.

Hi! Long time no see, huh? Well, I'm on fall break this week and I hope to catch up on updates! I just want to thank you all for being so patient with me! And I especially want to thank YackAttack for practically giving the plot for this chapter! I am completely grateful! Credit goes to her for the plotline! See you guys soon, hopefully!

~Torispeace