Reagan never expected to see her face on a poster, let alone hundreds of them. The words, "Missing Dog," in bright red letters marked the poster's intent. Even worse, the picture was of her school ID, she looked like she was high as a kite with the stupidest toothy grin and half-closed eyelids from the flash, her short bob made her look even more boyish.

Reagan heard an abrupt snicker from behind her, crackling like a lit firecracker. Lee said, "'Missing Dog!' That's got to be the best thing ever!"

"Stop it, Lee! It's cruel and unwarranted for someone to do this!" proclaimed Ken as he moved to Reagan's side. Nearly in tears, Ken asked, "Do you know who did this?"

Calmly, Reagan placed a hand on Ken's frail, shaking shoulder. "I have a good feeling of who it is. Don't worry, Ken, it's just a dumb prank."

With a sniff, Ken wiped his glasses with a handkerchief and said, "It's them, isn't it?"

"Yup," Reagan faced Ken and gave him a good hard look, "Don't engage them on this. Three little girls aren't going to control your emotions because you're better than they are. You know that, right? Never worry about me. I can my own against those brats. If need be, come to me if they bother you again."

Determinedly, Ken gave a nod, uncertainty still wavering in his green eyes.

Lazily, Lee said as he sauntered up to the two, "God, they're such douche-canoes, aren't they?"

It's been two weeks since the trio started school in Sweet Amoris and throughout those two weeks, Amber and company spent every present moment to harass them. There were the snide remarks behind the trio's backs, rude shoving across the hall, and, the most pettiest of all, stealing of the lunch money. Being naturally sarcastic and quick witted, Lee usually agitated the group the easiest, feeding fuel into an already strong flame. Ken made the easiest target because he was so frail and the least willful, practically broke from being robbed so much. Whereas, Reagan was the most intimidating, she had a certain look in her eyes that was unafraid and almost brutal as if she had nothing to lose, which was the most dangerous quality anyone could have; at certain points, Amber seemed to be slightly frightened when confronting Reagan. Unfortunately, Reagan had a few classes with the girls and had to tolerate their tricks in silence, even when they started tossing small scraps of paper at her head. Most of the things they've done to Reagan were on the smaller end of the spectrum, but as they kept going, Reagan's patience stretched thinner by the moment. In fact, this prank was the first infamous act that Amber and her friends pulled against her, after Reagan called them something particularly nasty after she discovered that Ken had been hit by one of them in an attempt to steal his lunch money. Despite their kindness, many of the adults turned their gaze from the abuse Amber's group dealt when Ken begged them for help, even the adults seemed to be afraid of Amber, a demon spawn of a wretch.

"God," Reagan groaned, noting the abundance of the bright posters, "They're everywhere."

"Well, look who it is, girls, the giant, the little wuss, and the dog." Amber Hawthorne strutted down the hallway with the arrogance that reflected the megalomaniac that she was. Charlotte and Li trailed behind her hurriedly, failing to catch even footing with their leader's pace. Holding up the poster in one hand, the other hand on her hips, Amber sneered in a pretty voice marred by her vicious nature, "Hello, little doggie, lost?"

Reagan said evenly, staring into Amber's eyes with unblinking black eyes, "Hi, Amber, always a pleasure especially in the morning. I'm guessing this was your work? Looks a bit shoddy to me with its low quality image and unimaginative slogan, plus you missed the opportunity to call me a 'bitch' publicly without the actual consequence of detention from Shermansky. Petty nicknames go with time and patience and if you haven't noticed, I'm very patient, patient enough not to punch you in the throat yet. So, Amber," Plucking the poster from Amber's dainty hold, Reagan ripped it in her face, throwing the bits in her face. "I think it's you, who's 'lost.'"

The smirk on Amber's face faltered at the sight of Reagan's dead glare. Amber glowered at Reagan, pushing her face so close to Reagan's that Reagan could feel her snarl, "I never lose, dog. Also," Amber added sharply, "Stay away from Nathaniel or I'll do much worse!"

With a snap, Amber beckoned her girls to follow her away from the trio. After the girls left, Lee pretended to swoon as Ken clapped Reagan on the back. Despite her hard exterior, Reagan felt shaky and timid, barely aware of her words.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Ken said to Reagan in awe, "Wow, I wish I was as cool as you, Reagan. You sure put her in her place."

Reagan shook her head slightly, saying, "Not really, it was barely a dent on her ego. There'll be something worse eventually, but I'll be fine. I can only hope they don't hurt you guys."

A part of Reagan meant that, however another part of her was reeling in fury and bewilderment. How had Amber even gotten to her photo ID? She couldn't have snatched it off Reagan because it was safely encased in Reagan's wallet and the only other was a photocopy in her student file, which was stored in a file cabinet in the teacher's lounge. The only people who could reach it were the administrative staff and Nathaniel, but, despite their willful blindness of Amber's bullying, Reagan doubted that the staff would aid the little brat since those files were carefully guarded. Which could only mean that Nathaniel had something to do with this stunt, he'd been the last one to handle her file according to Shermansky, and unless Amber were capable of hypnotism then Nathaniel had to have some hint or idea of the prank; Amber did seem protective of Nathaniel, which added to Reagan's suspicions. It didn't bother Reagan that Amber had seen her file because it was pristine, with top marks and honors, but the idea that Amber could have even got her grubby hands on a school file, something private, rattled Reagan's confidence.

"It's stupid to hope for that," Lee said as he opened his locker. "Amber's a bitch and she's going to keep bitching as long as you exist but she won't go too far 'cause you scare her. However, for Ken and I, what hope can possibly help two cowardly wimps like us, we're like puppy chow? Amber will never stop when it comes to worms like us, she'll come for our jugular because she knows that we can't touch her."

The passivity in Lee's pessimistic words unsettled Ken, who became nervous again. Reagan held Ken's shaking hand firmly in an effort to calm him.

She spoke up, "Hey, what's got into you? I know you're cynical and all but even this is too much for you."

Nonchalantly, Lee shrugged. "Sometimes the truth is cynical."

"What's cynical, Lee?" Iris approached the group, her cheerful aura brightening the mood somewhat. Curiously, Iris's wide eyes looked up into Lee's as she smiled sweetly at him.

"Um…" Lee looked to Reagan for his voice.

Casually, Reagan said, "He was just talking about Castiel. You know how Castiel can get sometimes."

"I do, it's true that he can get a bit too sarcastic. Well, for my taste."

"Thanks, Iris, I'll keep in mind to be as cheerful as a unicorn farting rainbows whenever I see you from now on." In classic Castiel fashion, Castiel glowered as he greeted Lee, his reticent friend, Lysander, hovering behind him. "Yo, Lee, what up?"

"Nothing much, still thinking about your offer. Hey, Lysander."

"Hello, Lee, Reagan, Ken, Iris." As he said each name, Lysander bowed his head slightly in what seemed to be a sign of respect. Unlike his hotheaded friend, Lysander was reserved and mysterious, a complete oddity complete in an outfit belonging in a steam punk Victorian-era theme. Reagan had a few classes with Lysander but he sat in the back with Iris and Castiel while Reagan sat dead center in the front, wanting to pay clear attention, so she knew virtually nothing about the quiet boy.

Then, with a smirk that Reagan dreaded, Castiel pulled out Amber's masterpiece. "Hi, doggie, looking for your master?"

Reagan snapped, "Oh, shut up, Cassie."

"Geez, someone's got a mean case of the rabies."

"It wouldn't be so ha-ha-funny if it was your ugly mug on a bunch of 'missing dog' posters." Angrily, Reagan fanned out her arms at the many students who were now picking up, observing the posters, and staring at her afterward. It was hard for Reagan not to feel like a circus spectacle when a majority of her peers were gawking at her like she was a freak.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, holding up his hands defensively. "Calm down, it's just a joke."

Composing herself, Reagan frowned at the amused boy. Hiking up the strap of her backpack, Reagan turned away, saying, "Whatever, it's obviously not your problem."

As she stormed off, Iris followed after Reagan, linking their arms together.

Gently, Iris said, "Please don't be so mad at him, especially at lunch. Castiel acts like that with everyone, even with people he likes."

Reagan looked at her friend in disbelief. "That boy does not like me. He's made that much clear."

"Of course, if that's what you think." Iris decided to change the subject. "So, any plans for the weekend?"

"Not really. Honestly, I'll probably be locking myself in to study for the history test and chemistry quiz. You know, start the year with some good grades." When they approached Reagan's locker, which was coincidentally beside Iris's, Reagan opened up her locker, Iris following suit.

Casually, Iris commented with disappointment, "Ah, then, you're not coming to the concert tomorrow night?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, Lee didn't tell you? Winged Skull announced on their website that they're holding a small gathering in a club. The club's ten minutes outside of Sweet Amoris and without age restrictions, so Castiel, Lysander, and Lee made plans to go. They asked Ken and me if we wanted to go so we said yes."

"But didn't you say that your parents won't allow you to go out at night?"

"On school nights, other than that my parents are pretty cool with whatever I do. I'm pretty sure if you wanted, you could come too but if you're too busy we understand."

Nothing annoyed Reagan more than being purposefully excluded, especially by her brother, and despite herself, she heard her voice say, "No, I mean I'll have plenty of time to study tonight and the rest of the weekend. I'm sure that I'll be able to have a couple hours for some fun."

"Really? That's great!" Iris gave Reagan a tight hug before dashing off to her first class. "I'll see you later, Reagan, and don't let Amber and her friends get to you."

"I won't." called Reagan in response. Since her study hall was nearby, Reagan found it easily and sat in the front like she always did. Even before her foot crossed the threshold, Reagan could feel the gawking stares of her classmates, wide-eyed and fingers pointed. Now, she knew what it was to be a spectacle and she hated it.

A voice sang Reagan's name in a light, off key melody. "Reagan!"

Turning to her left, Reagan greeted the owner of the voice, "Hey, Rosalya."

Then, Smith Jefferson, a class clown if there ever was one, barked in response.

Rosalya Remington was a lovely girl with stark white, impossibly glossy hair, in addition, Reagan supposed, to being her friend.

"Shut the hell up, Smith 'Shitty Pants' Jefferson." Turning away from the flustered Smith, Rosalya focused her attention to Reagan. "I'm taking a gander here and assuming that your family didn't put up those posters, huh?"

In response, Reagan groaned and collapsed into her desk as if someone cut the strings controlling her marionette body. While Reagan may have put up a brave face in front of Amber, she dreaded the impending future being known as a "dog." "I hate that girl so much."

"Relax, I think half the school hates her. If you think about it, Amber doesn't go out of her way to be particularly likeable."

"It's easy for you to say when you don't have a bunch of posters littered around the school claiming that you're a missing dog."

"To be frank, it doesn't seem that…ruff."

"Very 'punny' of you," Reagan said, mildly annoyed, "I'd hardly say it's the purr-fect way to start the morning."

Rosalya made a face. "'Purr-fect' isn't a dog pun. Girl, you got to work on your pun game."

Shrugging, Reagan admitted, "Sorry, I'm no good at puns. I'm too much of an old dog to learn new tricks."

With a grin, Rosalya said, "That much is obvious."

Interrupting them, another voice casted over the room, announcing, "Reagan Lucas come to the principal's office. Repeat. Reagan Lucas come to the principal's office."

Rosalya and Reagan shared an expression of confusion before Reagan rose from her desk. Jeers were jokingly called after her as she walked out of class, ignoring them in her bubble of confusion. What could Shermansky want with Reagan anyway? She reasoned that it could have only been the posters littered around school. Reagan resolved to tell the truth, wanting Amber and her friends to take full responsibility.

Walking into the principal's office, Reagan remembered clearly of the harden edges in the principal's eyes that warned her to behave. At the very thought, Reagan gulped nervously.

Without looking up from her papers, Principal Shermansky beckoned for Reagan. "Come in, Reagan."

Strangely, Lee was seated as well as Ken, both looking at Reagan in confusion.

Impatiently, Shermansky urged, "Hurry on now, I assure you that you're not in any trouble."

Seating herself in a stiff chair, Reagan asked, "So, you haven't called us to talk about the posters?"

"No, darling, I've already dealt with the culprits at hand and they shall be punished accordingly." The principal said that statement with such finality that it discouraged any further questions. "Now then, on to business. The three of you have been here for two weeks already and I see that none of you have signed up for a club. As a way to keep students active within school, the district requires that every student have an extracurricular." Shermansky passed around a pile of sheets, one for each of them. "This is the list of all the extracurriculars, the times they meet, and the teacher who supervises them. You have until the end of next week to join a club or I'll personally have to choose for you, a personal joy of mine."

When Reagan saw it on the list, she knew she immediately wanted to join the student council. Forgetting herself, Reagan raised her hand.

Annoyed, Shermansky asked, "Yes, Reagan? You are aware that I'm not a teacher and this is not a classroom, correct?"

"Oh," Quickly, Reagan lowered her hand and cleared her throat. "Actually, I was planning on joining the student council for a while now but the list doesn't say who the supervisor is."

"That would be me, actually." Principal Shermansky smiled, her hands clasping together in an iron grip. "Fine choice, Miss Lucas. I suggest that you talk to Nathaniel or Melody to add your email to the group contacts so that you may be up to date. Any further questions?"

The three stared blankly at the principal until she dismissed them with an impatient wave.

As they walked out of the office and into the hall, Ken sidled up to Reagan's side and asked, "Are you really considering the student council?"

"Yeah, I mean that's what I did in Merion and I liked it so why not?" That and she wanted an excuse to talk to Nathaniel, a possibility to figure out his connection to Amber.

"I just thought that you'd like to join the gardening club…"

Frankly, Reagan couldn't think of anything more abysmal than the gardening club. "No thanks, but if you want, you can join me in the student council. There's no rule against having more than one club, right?"

"I suppose so, even though it really isn't my cup of tea."

"You have plenty of time to think about it, so don't sweat it." Reagan turned to Lee. "Have you considered a club yet? Like Douchebags Anonymous or the Asshole Committee."

"I don't know. The music club seems fun and basketball and gardening too. Oh and did I miss the part when you ate a big bowl of bitch-flakes for breakfast this morning?"

"Oh I don't know. Did you drink a two-liter bottle of Douche when you chose not to say anything to me about your little plans for tomorrow night?" Even though they had practically a feet in height difference, Reagan forced her face up to Lee's, both unblinking and furious.

"Guys, don't fight please." Ken pleaded as he wedged himself between them.

"Listen, you hate Winged Skull, that's obvious with your not-so subtle eye rolling and snobby snorts whenever it's mentioned in passing. I didn't want to bother you, your Highness, with an invitation you were going to piss on anyway. Besides, Castiel really didn't want you to come. He tried to make sure that no one would spill this to you, which was obviously futile considering you fully well know."

"What? Is that true?" Reagan looked from Lee to Ken, who averted his gaze in shame.

Ken admitted, completely confounded with the possibility of anyone hating Reagan. "It is. He's pretty obsessed with you in a hateful kind of way."

Well, screw you too, Cassie, Reagan thought bitterly. "It still would've been nice to be asked. Whatever…"

"Are we good now?" asked Lee, quite annoyed with the discussion at hand.

"I guess." As they passed the student council room, Reagan stopped. "Listen guys, I'll see you later. I'm just going to tell Nathaniel my contact info because you know the sooner the better."

Pathetically, Ken mewled, "Maybe I'll come too."

For a moment, Reagan paused; she had wanted to capitalize on an opportunity to get to Nathaniel alone. However, she reasoned, there was always an off chance that he wouldn't be alone, considering Melody was attached to his hip, and there would be other chances too, Reagan hoped.

"I don't see why not." Hesitantly, Reagan gestured for him to follow. "See ya later, Lee."

"Yep."

Then, the trio parted ways, Reagan and Ken to the student council room and Lee to his study hall. For once, the door was opened and Reagan knocked on it to signify Ken and her presence.

"Come in." By himself, Nathaniel had his back to the pair, squatting as he searched for something through a file cabinet.

"It's just Ken and me."

Looking over his shoulder, Nathaniel mustered up a smile. "A pleasure to see you guys. How can I help you?"

"The principal told us about having to join a club and we decided to join the student council, if it's not too late."

"No problem, I'll take note of it. If you'd be so kind as to give me your contact information, I can add you to our mailing list." Swiftly, Nathaniel rose up, whipped out a piece of paper and a pen, and strode over to Ken and Reagan without missing a beat.

Taking the sheet and pen, Reagan scribbled down her email address and passed over the materials to Ken, who dropped them unsurprisingly. As Reagan waited for Ken to finish, she observed the student council room, taking in the limited sights. It wouldn't be difficult to break into the room with its bare security, no doubt a sweet piece of cake for Amber with her cunning and wiles. However, Reagan severely doubted that someone as uptight as Nathaniel would just leave the files in an insecure room. In addition, Nathaniel seemed to be linked to the brat through one way or another, which bothered Reagan oddly enough.

"All done," Ken handed over the pen and paper to Nathaniel and said to Reagan, "Shall we go?"

"Yep." She allowed Ken to link his arm with hers as they made their way out of the room, carefully noting the strange expression that flitted on Nathaniel's face.

"I'll see you guys later." Nathaniel called after them.

As the two reached the bisection at the end of the hall, Ken asked, "Do you want me to walk with you to your class?"

"Nah, I don't want to burden you with that. But thanks." said Reagan kindly, unlocking their arms.

"Are you sure?"

Reagan said firmly, "I am."

"Alright." Ken hesitantly pulled away, walking away. Reagan watched him carefully until she was sure that he was out of sight, and then she made a beeline back down the hall.

When she made it to the student council room, she shut the door behind her quietly. Afterward, Reagan said, a bit too loudly, "Nathaniel, we need to talk."

"Reagan, what!" said Nathaniel with a yelp, hopping up on his feet in surprise.

"Sorry, I just have to ask something and I know if I don't say it now, I'll probably never say it ever."

Amusement played on his lips and Nathaniel rubbed his chin, deciding to play along with the odd girl, "Um, okay?"

Nervously, Reagan remembered how much she disliked confrontation, how her thoughts turned to incoherent mush whenever she was faced with it, and just how easy it was for her to lose herself in it. She knew that she'd just have to come out with it, without a single inhibition. "How is it that a photo of me, specifically from my private file, is plastered around school?"

"Excuse me?"

"Please, don't give me that slack-jawed look. You know very well what I mean."

"You mean those posters?" When he comprehended her words, Nathaniel palmed his forehead in annoyance. "Listen, I have no idea how that happened but don't assume things without evidence."

Indignantly, Reagan exploded, "What am I supposed to assume then? That a teacher willingly helped Amber and her friends steal my photo from my file to help them? According to Shermansky, you were the last one handling my file! What am I supposed to think?"

"I'm not responsible for my sister. However, I would never willingly allow her access to the files without sufficient reason. I'm not dumb."

Exasperated, Reagan asked, "What are you even talking about, your sister?"

"Who do you think? Amber is my twin sister. I know she's incorrigible and unruly but I would never encourage her behavior or her antics. Besides, Amber never came to me about your file or your picture, so forgive me if I know nothing about her pranks."

Even Reagan, as paranoid as she felt, could see that Nathaniel was telling the truth, his indignation and disbelief so real that it was palpable. Exhausted, Reagan said, "Sorry, I shouldn't have accused you so quickly."

"I understand you're angry and I'm sorry for my sister's malicious behavior. She really should know better but she's wild. I'll talk to her if you'd like."

Reagan didn't need another reason for Amber to hate her so she waved off his offer, "It's fine. I just hate the idea that she could touch something as private as my student file. That's all."

Running his fingers through his glossy woven gold hair, Nathaniel sighed, "She wasn't always like this. She used to be kinder and sweeter…"

"I believe you." Then, Reagan said, "I might as well go then."

"Wait." Pulling out a slip, Nathaniel asked, "I hate to bother you with a favor especially after what happened, but do you mind getting Castiel to sign this cut slip? I know that you two are friends and Castiel doesn't particularly like me, not that I mind. In addition, there aren't many times that I see him throughout the day."

Wary, Reagan hesitated but accepted the task, taking the slip, which felt leaden in her hands. "Sure. Why does he have to sign it though? I thought the parents were responsible with signing it."

"Ah, technically, Castiel is legally responsible for himself, having been emancipated from his parents due to their work, which requires them to travel frequently."

"Oh." Reagan never figured that Castiel would have been alone, although he fit the bill of a lone wolf pretty well. She felt a pang of sympathy for him, albeit a fleeting one, for the absence of the parentals; though, she was still angry with him for trying to ice her out of the group. She never thought that she'd have anything in common with that boy and it was discomfiting to discover that she did.


Reagan never thought that she'd find the bready smell of burnt fishsticks comforting but liked that she did. Stacking the fishsticks, she began extracting a log of fish product and delicately stacked it on the very top in a game of edible Jenga.

"Ooh, can I play?" Setting down his tray of pale, grey food, Ken reached over, before Reagan could protest, and knocked over the tiny tower in one accidental sweep. Blushing, Ken said sheepishly, "Sorry, Reagan. Let me fix it."

Gently, Reagan pushed away Ken's eager fingers, feeling low in spirit and utterly done.

"It's fine." Reagan nipped at a fishstick, dusting off the crumbs.

"What's wrong? You can tell me, if you want."

Subtly, Reagan allowed herself to smile; Ken always knew when to push and when to leave alone. "It's just not a good day with the stupid posters. Discussing the significance of the yellow wallpaper in a crazy lady's house doesn't have the same charm when half the class is barking at me."

"To be fair, discussing literary symbols aren't that fun in general," said Lee as he set down his tray besides Ken, Iris and Castiel in tow.

At the sight of Castiel, Reagan's temper flared and she stuffed a few more fishsticks in her mouth to prevent saying anything nasty.

"Are you okay, Reagan?" Delicately, Iris placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

Through a mouthful of fish, Reagan said distractedly, "Just peachy, why do you ask?"

"Well, you're talking through a mouthful of fishsticks and glaring pointedly at the clock." Iris pointed to the large, possibly ancient clock in the general direction of Castiel, who hadn't paid any attention to either of them.

After chewing and swallowing, Reagan said, "Really, I'm fine." Then, she changed the subject. "I see you chose the mystery meat brick."

Iris made a face. "Well, when you call it that it sounds less appetizing."

"It's a browned block of unknown meat, Iris, hardly tempting on its own."

"I suppose so," Setting her fork down on the tray, Iris announced jokingly, "I'm going back to get a sandwich and I hope when I come back, you don't call it anything for the sake of my appetite."

Amused, Reagan grinned slyly. "I'll try."

"Hey, wait for me, I need a couple napkins." Lee said as he trailed after Iris like a hapless puppy.

Afterward, Ken proclaimed in a rush, before running off, "Ah, I have to go to the bathroom."

It was as if they were all aware of Reagan's task and wanted nothing to do with it.

Casually, Reagan pushed the cut slip to Castiel and said, "Playing hooky? I have a cut slip from Nathaniel for you to sign."

For once, Castiel smirked and responded, "It's much better than having your brain actively become mush, learning about historical bullshit." Pushing back the note, Castiel said defiantly, "But I'm not signing that. You can run back to little Mr. Student Council Pissant and tell him to come to me like a man if he wants shit done."

With a huff, Reagan said, "Look, I know what an uptight guy Nathaniel is and how annoying he can be with his variety of rules, you'd think he was a terms and conditions form. If you just sign it, it'll all be done with, no visit from prissy Nathaniel, who would just whine at you. Now, wouldn't that be nice?"

Not remotely convinced, Castiel shook his head. "No thanks. Although, it's interesting to see you like this, I figured you'd be up his ass because you both seem so uptight."

Reagan snorted. "Please. I'm not Melody."

Then, Castiel laughed, a sound so unnatural and jarring for Reagan who was used to his snark and general snootiness. "That's true. The girl's so thirsty for him, I feel embarrassed."

"So, there isn't even a snowball's chance in hell that you'd sign this." Reagan held up the slip.

Abruptly, Castiel became sour. "Not even a snowflake's chance. So, quit it."

"Fine." said Reagan, who didn't feel like pursuing it much anyway.


"Hey, did you get him to sign it?" Nathaniel asked curiously, as he sat down besides Reagan, Melody taking a seat beside him as if she were his shadow.

Reagan hadn't really known how to address him other than directly saying it, so she said it honestly, "He's not signing it. He's made that much clear." Then, she made a crude imitation of Castiel, hoping to shed light on his stubbornness, "He said, 'If you want to get stuff done, come to me like a man.' Or something to that effect."

Surprisingly, Nathaniel chuckled, "That does sound like him."

"I'm sorry that I couldn't do much for you other than aggravate him."

"It's fine, but do you think you could just try one more time?"

"Uh…" Reagan would rather be Kiki's babysitter than go back to Castiel but she figured one more try couldn't hurt. "Fine."

Once class was dismissed, Reagan headed over towards Castiel, who was preoccupied with Iris and the reasons why death metal will never be mainstream.

"…Because biting off the heads of various animals during a performance will never be sexy for tweens…"

At that moment, Reagan was tempted to leave, however Iris spotted her and waved, leaving her no choice but to come over. Walking over, Reagan said, "Iris, do you mind if I talk to Castiel…alone?"

Nodding, Iris said as she backed away, "Sure, I'll see you in chem."

Castiel leaned against his locker with his arms crossed and his face annoyingly arrogant. "So, what do you want now?"

"He's insisting…" Wearily, Reagan waved the cut slip in Castiel's face.

Pushing it away, Castiel snapped, "Damn, you're persistent! Do you ever take 'no' for an answer?"

"I know what I am, but enough. It's a cut slip, not a death sentence. I don't understand why you're so afraid of having a blemish on your record, it's not like you aspire, or even have the possibility, to get anywhere prestigious so what's the point of resisting a consequence of your actions?"

Castiel's tone tasted bitter. "Oh, very astute of you, Lucas. I don't want to sign this stupid piece of paper because I don't want to give that prick any more ammunition to get me expelled from school, if you haven't noticed that's precisely what he wants. Besides, I think I have the right to have that prick at least deign his presence unto me if he wants his stupid piece of paper signed. You can go tell that to Mr. Student Council President. If you come back to me again with that paper, I'll promise I'll make you regret it."

Without so much as a snarl, Castiel stalked off, his body stiff and on edge like a furious cat. Reagan was more frustrated than anything but she supposed that he had a point. If Nathaniel wanted it done, he'll have to do it himself. She sighed to herself, confounded by the amount of drama in her life. It was completely ridiculous that this was her life now; Merion never had this kind of bullshit.


There were three scenarios she imagined would happen when she told Nathaniel of her failure: the first, he would laugh it off and take care of it himself; second, he would chew her out and take care of it himself; or third, he would chew her out and force her to try again. After Castiel made his point, Reagan decided that he was right, this wasn't her business and she had tried at the least, so it was Nathaniel's turn to face the grump. Predictably, Nathaniel was in the student council room, shuffling around papers per usual.

Knocking on the open door, Reagan sidled in, with a smile that was faker than her interest in organized sports. "Hey, buddy. How's the old grind going?"

"Fine, I suppose." Nathaniel's eyes bore into hers eagerly. "Did he sign it? Assuming, that's what you're here for."

"No, he didn't. I tried but he really would appreciate it if you had the respect to come up to him yourself." Her eyes wavered briefly as she anticipated the onslaught coming her way.

"So, you didn't get him to sign it?" Patronizingly, Nathaniel said this slowly as if Reagan had misunderstood.

Annoyed by his tone, Reagan admitted frankly, "No, but I figure that Castiel has a point. At least have the respect to ask him in person. He doesn't even like me as a friend, so you might as well have gone yourself. However, he's not as horrible as the rumors make him out to be."

A pang of irritation twitched in Reagan as Nathaniel palmed his forehead, presently as irate as she felt. "Then, why did you even bother…"

"I was trying to be nice." Knowing what he was going to ask for next, Reagan said, "No, I won't go back to try again. He's made it clear that if it's me that comes back, it'll be the most lost cause in the history of lost causes."

"Are you kidding me? How hard is it to get one signature?"

"If it's from someone as stubborn and paranoid as Castiel, I'd say it's the hardest thing I've ever done."

"Fine," Nathaniel's tone became sarcastically unforgiving, "I'd hate to burden your gentle soul with such tasks as asking for a signature. I'll do it myself, like I should have earlier."

The nasty tone in his voice infuriated Reagan and she stormed out the room, refusing to dignify his statement. Then, remembering that she had the slip, she crumbled it into a ball, slipped back into the room, glared, and threw the ball of cardstock square into Nathaniel's chest. She never remembered being a hateful person but boy did she hate a majority of the students in Sweet Amoris High.


Reagan loved school, she honestly did, but now the relief of it ending for the week was quite sweet. She hated to sound so whiny about something as insignificant as school. Three years, counting this. Technically, two years and nine months and two weeks. Quietly, Reagan reminded herself that she wasn't a child, she was better than that Amber, that Li, that Charlotte, that Castiel, and that stupid, condescending Nathaniel. She tried her best to do a favor and that was what mattered. Now, she had a whole weekend to herself, to do whatever she pleased; there was that concert but she decided to cancel, it's obvious that Castiel didn't want her there and she needed a break from him as well.

It seemed that luck would never be in Reagan's fortune as Amber and friends sauntered up to her, keen to spoil the end of the day for anyone.

With a flip of her hair, Amber smirked. "Going home, doggie? I hope you don't get lost."

Reagan thought that Amber was a beautiful girl sharing her brother's beaten gold locks, bright blue-green eyes, and possessing a shapely body, but also how easy it was to forget all that when Amber sneered and spewed out the vitriol in her spirit. Amber was a testament to the very idea of inner beauty by being the case of the exact opposite; her inner ugliness was just as revealing and obvious as Iris's inner beauty was apparent.

Wearily, Reagan said, "Well, I'd hate for you to worry, so don't. I'm a big girl, I can find my way home."

Giving Reagan an onceover, Amber laughed, her friends snickering behind her. "I can't deny that you're big. By the way, you might want to check on the 'love of your life' by the stairway. We left him a small present to remember us by, you know for you tattling on us."

What the…, Reagan prodded her mind for the meaning behind Amber's words.

At the sight of Reagan's confusion, Amber said smugly, "Wow, I had no idea your little gremlin was just as forgettable to you as he was to everybody else. Anyway, I'll see you on Monday, tattling little doggie."

The three girls skirted past Reagan as pondered on her mystery admirer. What weirdo would…wait.Swallowing a groan, Reagan made a mental note to tell Ken she was not the love of his life, not even close. When she made it to the stairway, Reagan was more than ready to chew out Ken until she actually saw him, slumped against a corner, his head buried in his arms.

Looking up, Ken said shakily, "Hi, Reagan."

At the sight of Ken's face, Reagan clapped her hands together in shock, exclaiming, "Holy crap!"

Shyly, Ken tried to cover his bruised face as much as he could without touching it; his face no longer a lovely peach but a bruised remnant left in the wake of Amber's malevolence. "It's nothing…"

"Ken, I know about Amber. C'mon, I'm taking you to the nurse." said Reagan as she grabbed Ken's arm and started leading him to the nurse's office.

"It's not a big deal, I don't need the nurse." Ken pulled away. "Please, don't tell anyone especially my aunt."

Despite herself, Reagan agreed. "Fine, but what happened exactly? I know Amber had something to do with this, Charlotte and Li too."

"Well, after lunch, all I could think of was how sad you were because of that mean prank. It wasn't fair for you. So, I gathered all my courage throughout the day until I saw Amber and her friends in the stairwell after school ended. I went up to them and asked them to apologize to you but they just laughed at me and pushed me around. They left when I started crying and that was it." Taking off his glasses, Reagan could see Ken's eyes were wet and brimming with shame. He begged her, "Please, Reagan, if you have any respect for what I did, please don't ever tell my dad or my aunt about this. They can't know or my dad will take me away."

She knew it was wrong to brush this incident under a rug but she had to respect Ken's decision. Nodding, Reagan held him, holding him close to her chest. "I do Ken, what you did was very brave. Thank you." Patting his back, Reagan said, "Come on now, let's get you home. I'll help you with that nasty mark. But, first, we'll need to get your stuff."

"Ah, that's right."

As they walked down the hall, Reagan asked Ken, "Hey, what's with this 'love of my life' crap you've been telling everyone?"

"Oh, that…well, it's nothing more than honesty. I'm being honest when I say you're the love of my life."

"That's fine but you do know that we're not… I'm not your girlfriend, Ken, and you're not my boyfriend."

Surprisingly, Ken responded with a quiet determination, "I know but I still love you."

"Ken, but why? Out of any girl, many other interesting girls, why do you choose someone as ordinary as me to love so deeply?"

"You're not ordinary!" Shyly, Ken blushed, surprised by his outburst, and was about to explain himself when all of sudden the thud of something heavy hitting a locker interrupted them.

Whipping her head around, Reagan saw Castiel bearing down on someone, his fists clenched so tightly that the veins on his hands were ready to burst. A small crowd surrounded them and curiosity got the better of Reagan as she raced down to the battle scene.

Fiercely, Castiel practically screamed at his adversary. "Stay the hell out of my business, bitch!"

"I wouldn't have to interfere if you did your part as a responsible student and not cut class."

Even behind several people, Reagan knew that voice, Nathaniel's had a certain uppity tone when he was particularly angry, she knew that from firsthand experience. Of course, it was all about that stupid cut slip. Seeing that nobody was going to interfere, Reagan told Ken to get a teacher and shoved her way through to the two boys, both glowering at each other with the menace of territorial wolves.

"I'll do my part in breaking your face!" Nearly purple in the face, Castiel raised his fist eagerly.

Latching onto his arm, Reagan protested, "Stop! You don't have to do this, Castiel. You're better than this, I swear that you are."

For the briefest moment, Castiel allowed himself to be shocked before he threw her back roughly, her body slamming down onto the floor. "Stay out of this. I've told you before not to interfere and now's the time to take my advice."

Angrily, Nathaniel shouted at Castiel, "Hey, if you're going to hit someone, don't hit the girl that stuck up for you, idiot! Ugh, I don't even care about that stupid slip anymore. I'll get Shermansky to deal with it so good luck with that."

Finally, a teacher could be heard roaring, "Break it up! This ain't the WWE."

As the crowd dispersed quickly, Nathaniel shoved Castiel off of him and helped Reagan up onto her feet.

Shrugging him off, Reagan said bitterly, her bottom still aching from the fall, "Just leave me alone."

Storming off, Reagan took Ken by the arm, dragging him to his locker. Self-righteous fury pulsated through her veins until she felt like she was literally on fire. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and Reagan Lucas had felt more than just scorned.


Detective Lance Harding reclined back into his chair, a smoking cigar in hand and feet resting on his shabby desk. It wasn't an easy job to scrub the streets of Niceville clean of scum, the city was infamous for its seediness. Only yesterday, fifteen died in the Gordon-McIntyre turf feud, a welcome relief for the hapless, innocent citizens. However, it would never be enough for Harding, he needed Niceville to be sterile of the filth that roamed within it and cockroaches never die. That's what he told to Sydney Kindling when he sent her away and that was exactly what he meant. Permeating the air, the acrid smoke of his cigar intoxicated Lance, filling him.

Then, his sweet reprieve ended with an abrupt knock on his door. There ain't no rest for the wicked, Harding thought sardonically, biting down on his cigar—

When a second knock rapped against her door, Reagan realized that she hadn't imagined it. Curving his back, Clinton stretched and mewled, rubbing his head against her leg. Then, he plopped off her bed and stalked off into the bathroom for his kibble. Closing her book, Reagan called out, "Yeah?"

"It's me," Aunt Aggie said as she entered, holding a plate of freshly cut fruits. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No, not in the least. Thanks for the fruit," said Reagan, noting the plethora of bandages covering her aunt's slender fingers. Plucking a grape off the plate, Reagan asked, "How's your day?"

"Ah, well, it went the same as usual. Three of them tried climbing over the fence in the playground when naptime was mentioned and another accidentally pulled on my dress, which caused my top to come off partially in what counts as my tenth occasion of a wardrobe malfunction."Crossing her arms, Aunt Agatha shuddered jokingly, "Sometimes, I wonder why I chose childcare."

In a grey cardigan and mustard dress that fell to her ankles, Aunt Agatha looked relatively normal out of her fairy costume, the only exception was the long, silky purple hair that flowed freely from her head. Despite being sisters, Aunt Agatha looked nothing like Reagan's mother, Agatha's features were softer and warmer.

Reagan gave her a reassuring smile. "Even so, you have a way with children. At the end of the day, they take their naps, eat their peas, and learn their ABCs because of you. Although, if you ever want help, feel free to call me up. I'd love to help especially if it'd give you a break."

"Thank you, I'd love that." Then, Aunt Agatha became serious. "Reagan, how is school?"

"Eh, it's school. Not particularly bad but I'm not jumping for joy every morning."

"Actually, what I meant was if anyone was bothering you or hurting you? Ken's injuries concern me and I was wondering if those same girls were bothering you and Lee."

When Aunt Agatha came home, Reagan had been playing around with her tinted moisturizer in a futile effort to cover up Ken's bruises. After a brief explanation, Agatha had agreed to help, albeit with hesitation, and brought out her theatre makeup. While layering on thin layers of the thick foundation, Agatha taught Ken the basics, how to apply and remove the makeup. Miraculously, Ken's face was free of marks and his arms were scuff free. Thanking both of them profusely, Ken returned to his aunt's home, leaving the two women in awkward silence.

Tucking her knees under her arms, Reagan said, "I'm fine, Agatha. I can take care of myself."

"You didn't answer me."

With reluctance, Reagan admitted, "Yeah, they are. But, we've told teachers and even the principal and they won't do anything about it. Can you believe a group of middle-aged adults are afraid of three adolescent girls? I couldn't at first but turns out, anything is possible."

"That's is then, I'll go to Principal Shermansky, I mean Susan, she'll have to take issues like this more seriously if she truly wants to improve this school. But, gosh is it weird calling your former principal by her first name."

The self-sufficient part of Reagan wanted to protest but she knew that her aunt was right. "Thanks, Auntie."

Ruffling Reagan's hair, Agatha smiled, looking even less like her sister. "No problem, I just want you guys to enjoy school while it lasts. It's not all bad lunches, boring teachers, and stressful homework. I've made some of the most rewarding friendships and experienced some of the best memories back in high school."

Disbelieving, Reagan scoffed, "I find it hard to believe that school is that great."

Rising from the bed, Aunt Agatha said, "Well, it doesn't hurt to try." Playing with Reagan's hair, Agatha sighed. "You look so much like your mother when you pout, especially when you tilt your head to your side. It's even in the same direction. That's the look she always gave me when I would tell her my little stories, like she never could believe that I'd skinny dipped in the lake or that I would want to." Chuckling, Agatha smiled wistfully. "Ah, I wouldn't want to bore you with my boring old stories. Dinner's in a half hour, vegetarian pasta courtesy of Chef Lee."

When her aunt left, Reagan went up to the mirror in her bathroom, touching her face inquisitively. She supposed her aunt had a point; when Reagan looked into her reflection, her mother's almond eyes glared back, her mother's peach lips pursed tightly, and her mother's nose scrunched up. And she hated it all, she hated the coldness in her eyes, the indifference on her lips, and the daintiness of her nose. Reagan looked like the ice princess her mother was.

Leaving her bathroom, Reagan just wanted to scream. She didn't know particularly why, but a scream wanted to burst out of her right here and right now. But that wasn't possible, considering the fact that Castiel was staring at her, holding a greasy looking paper bag.

"What the hell!" screamed Reagan, backing right back into the bathroom. Her scream wasn't fulfilling at all but it scared Castiel and that in itself was satisfying. Quickly, Reagan grabbed a towel and threw it at him, making sure that she wasn't imagining him.

Covering his head with his arms, Castiel yelled, "Jesus!"

Composing herself, Reagan asked, "What are you doing here?"

Throwing the towel on her bed, Castiel said, "Listen, you're aunt said I'd be fine if I just came into here. She didn't say you were going to lose your shit."

"I'm losing my 'shit' because people don't freaking enter rooms without knocking unless they're assassins or assholes like you. Why the hell are you here?"

"Obviously, to get sassed by you." Despite muttering this quietly, Castiel was loud enough to be heard by Reagan's sharp ears.

"Oh screw you." Grabbing a stuffed animal, Reagan threw it hard into his face, which did little but amuse him. "Screw you and your sarcastic smirk and that bullshit humor of yours. Get out here. I'm done with you. You win, okay? I'll never sit with you guys at lunch, I'll never hang out at Iris's or Lee's locker if you're there, I'll be out of sight. So, leave me alone!"

With that exclamation, Reagan felt her body become limp, generally tired from it all. Sitting on her bed, Reagan brought her legs to her chest and buried her head between them. She figured if she assumed the fetal position and stayed still the room would stop spinning and he would leave.

Shockingly, Castiel had a tenderness to his voice, something that sounded foreign even to him. "I'm sorry, okay. I was being an asshole because I'm, well, a paranoid asshole. A lot of people give me shit for me just being me and I don't trust people easily. I'm a mean person and I do mean things. It's not easy for me to trust people, especially people like Nathaniel, okay? I mean I'll never forgive him for what he did to me. That's why I didn't sign it. I know it's a stupid reason and I know I was stupid to take it out on you."

Silently, Reagan absorbed his words, suspiciously at first but then suspicion gave way to curiosity.

Placing a paper bag in front of her, Castiel said, "I'm sorry. Accept these tokens of apology. They're powdered cronuts from the diner. You should heat them up if you really want them to be good."

Reagan looked at him and said, "Thanks. I accept your apology, I guess. I'll admit that I wasn't much of a saint either. What the hell are 'cronuts?'"

"They're a croissant donut hybrid and I think it's a given that neither of us were a model citizen."

She nodded agreeably. "Sounds heavenly. I'll admit that being a saint sounds like a drag. I'm pretty sure that being a saint also requires having a stick up your ass and I'd prefer for my body to be stick free."

Smirking, Castiel said, "I don't know, saintly Nathaniel has to be getting something out of having a stick up his ass. Maybe being uptight has its perks."

"Ha, I'll get back to you on that if I ever convert."

Straightening his jacket, Castiel said, "As weirdly amusing as this has been, I have to leave."

"Alright, is it bad to say that this feels pretty weird, especially the not-being-insulted part?"

"Pretty much, I can feel my insides slowly rotting from being nice." Then, he said hesitantly, "Hey, a couple of us are going to a concert tomorrow. Are you coming?"

"I don't know, considering you had an embargo against me."

When Castiel registered her words, he muttered, "Lee, that little squealer."

"Hey, don't blame him for being loyal to family, besides Iris really the one who kicked the cat of the bag."

Pushing back his long, bright red hair, Castiel grinned, "Whatever. Consider the ban lifted."

"Is this your way of offering a truce?"

"I'll admit that the verbal sparring probably won't stop, but, yeah, pretty much." Holding out his hand, Castiel was still smirking but his eyes were gentle and genuine.

She could feel a small smile spreading on her face. "Good, my mouth could use the exercise."