Anyway, thank you all for your reviews, please continue with them! I hurried with this chapter because you guys wanted it so much =-) Enjoy, I think you'll like this chapter =-) Xx

I tried my best to sink into the plastic of my chair, but somehow I don't blend with it that well. My heart is thumping fast and heavy. Static electricity runs it's way through me, making me wish to the high heavens for me to be somewhere else right now.

I can't make out the expression on her face because I'm not looking at her, but I can tell that she's scanning the filling room for me. My classmates are filing in after her, laughing and sniggering- some of them at me- but surprisingly, I don't particularly notice. I'm too focused on Chloe. They pass by her to go into their seats, but she still stands at the front of the room.

I have no interest in ever being friends with Chloe again, or even be on speaking terms with her. The pain is just too much. Every time I close my eyes, I can see her and Brady on that bed together; kissing, touching...

I gulp down tears. I know Brady isn't my boyfriend or anything, he barely knows I exist, but Chloe knew that I had strong feelings for him. I know she didn't actually sleep with Brady, but she would have if I hadn't walked in. She also blabbed to Samantha and her cronies, and who else knew what she had blabbed to them about? Everyone knows my mother left when I was little, but that's common knowledge. It's terribly lucky that I've never told her about my dad's drinking and abuse.

That wouldn't have become common knowledge- it would have been a weapon for everyone in the school to ridicule me.

I shuffle to the right a bit, hoping that she won't see my face. I don't want to look at her. I don't want to hear her voice, or hear her even start to apologize to me. She had obviously not been drunk that night- I would have noticed it in her motions.

Why can't the floor just gobble me up? My preparation for this moment has obviously done no good whatsoever. I knew that I'd have to see Chloe and Brady sometime, but I'm still not ready.

Thankfully, Chloe moves on to her seat- she didn't see me sitting in the front corner of the class. It feels like I'm in a horror movie and the murderer has just passed the me, the unnoticed victim- relieved that the fear has past. I sigh, feeling my heart throb with the sudden departure of adrenaline. My head feels clear of the static fog that had past over it. I sigh shakily, feeling the unshed tears in my eyes become easier to hold in.

Mrs. Higgins begins the lesson by shrieking for some boys to stop throwing paper airplanes at each other. She hands out pieces of paper to all of us- we're going to do some sort of test.

I can hear people talking about me from behind- I can hear their sniggers and muffled laughs. Most of them are guys, but there are some girls joining in. A few people say my name, wanting me to turn around so they can ridicule me. Thank god I chose to sit at the front, otherwise I would have had no escape from both sides.

If you've ever been ridiculed by your classmates, you'll know how I'm feeling right now. My heart keeps pounding hard. I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks and making me go flame red. As much as I try to keep concentrated on my work, they're starting to get to me. My eyes start to water up, thank god no-one can see that, and I keep them focused on my notebook, doodling with my pen to keep me busy. I can't imagine how bad it's going to be when the bell rings and they're free to mock me without getting told off.

I want to just die right then. I'm a sensitive person, as you've probably noticed, and Chloe has hit me where it hurts: my crush on Brady.

In that moment, I realize that I can't wait for lunchtime to talk to Jordan- I need to do it sooner.

I have no idea how I got through Chemistry. The mocking didn't get easier to handle. Every once in a while I felt a finger prod me in my back, then muffled giggles and laughter. Every time that happened, I wanted to burst into tears- but I couldn't, I had to be strong, just for this one lesson. I didn't even want to think about English- that would just be ten times worse. When the bell rang, I darted out the door as quickly as I could, surprised that everyone was so slow. Then, just when I was away to stop 'darting' and walk to the office to phone Jordan, I heard shouts behind me, followed with laughter. Oh, god- I had thought. I had to basically run to get rid of them, dodging past people coming out of their classes.

And now, here I am standing outside the office, partially out of breath, with tears starting to run down my face. I've never felt this rubbish before in my life, even when they told me I had to live in the Orphanage. At least then I had known where I stood.

Someone slams something onto a desk, and that snaps me out of my sad reverie. I hurriedly wipe my eyes gently with the backs of my hands, hoping that my face isn't red.

When I'm inside the office, I can see the same receptionist from this morning on the phone, pen in hand with a notebook on the table. She's normally a tough old woman, saying all the right things but her eyes are always betraying her.

I walk up the desk, and try and smile. I'm sure that my eyes are red, or my tears have left marks. "Can I call somebody?"

To be honest, I expect her to say that I have to wait and get permission from the Head or something, but she surprises me. Her beady eyes take me in, tear-streaked face and all, and she kindly tells me: "You can use the phone in the back, dear."

For once, she seems sincere. Or maybe she's just mastered lying with her eyes.

Confused, my eyebrows knit together for a second, stunned by her kindness, and say thank you. I've never been through 'the back' before, and I've always wondered if they keep children prisoner in there.

I'm not in the mood to be hesitant, and walk straight through the door to the right. It's just an ordinary office- papers everywhere, keys, desks, computers. And a telephone.

I immediately walk over to it, noticing that the room is empty, and dial Jordan's mobile number. My fingertips tap anxiously on the buttons while it rings.

"Hello?"

The sound of his familiar voice somehow comforts me. I slump to the floor, clutching the phone to my ear with both hands. Through the glass window, I can see the receptionist tapping at her notebook with her pen, arguing with someone on the phone.

"Hello, anybody there?"

I realize that I haven't answered yet, and my eyes dart away from the window.

"Jordan? It's me," I say, knowing that I sound shaky. There's no point hiding it from him- he can always tell.

"Kayla? What's wrong? Aren't you supposed to be in class?" he throws question after question at me, the last one sounding disapproving, confused, and slightly angry.

"It's breaktime," I sniff.

"Oh, right. What's wrong? Kayla? Are you crying?" he sounds angry, but I know it's not at me. More at the thing that's making me cry.

"Yeah." Tears run freely down my cheeks, and I'm glad that no-one can see me. All I want right now is a big hug from Jordan, and one of his specially-made hot chocolates.

"What's wrong?"

I tell him everything, still crying on the floor of the school office. Jordan's known about my crush on Brady since... well, forever. He's not exactly been thrilled about it, especially since it upsets me whenever Brady shags a new slut, but he's never put me down over it. I can tell that he'll be furious about all this, but I need to tell him. I need to tell someone that understands me.

When I finish, there's silence on the other end. In it I can hear the rumbling of a car engine.

"Jordan?"

"Yeah. Why didn't you tell me all this in the morning, Kayla?" Jordan sounds sympathetic and sad.

"I... I don't know. I didn't think to," I stutter, sniffing. Maybe it's better not to tell him that I fell asleep in the woods and slept at a stranger's house just now...

"I think you should just go back to the Orphanage, Kayla. Especially since Brady and Chloe are going to be in English, it'll be doubly hard on you."

That was not what I expect him to say. I blink through my tears. Distantly, I can hear the receptionist telling someone firmly that she can't give another student's timetable to a student. I do my best to ignore her, and wipe my cuff against my cheeks in confusion.

"What? But I have to deal with this," I insist.

"Do it tomorrow, sweetheart, it'll still be there then. I'm coming down to see you- it was going to be a surprise, but that's gone down the pooper now. We'll spend some time together, and then you can go into school tomorrow with a clear mind and determination."

I'm stunned, but smiling through my sadness. Jordan's never called me 'sweetheart' before, but somehow, it didn't feel weird at all.

"You were coming down to surprise me?"

"Got your favorite chocolate in the trunk, too," I can hear that he's smiling. It makes me feel so much better, talking to him, that for a second I forget that my best friend is a slut.

And then, sitting on the floor of the office with drying tears on my face, I smile.

"You go on back to the Orphanage. Once I'm off the line to you, I'll phone the school and the Orphanage that you've had some sort of emergency. I am your legal guardian, after all," he says the last bit smugly, and I laugh with him.

Until I notice that Brady is the one talking to the receptionist, head down grimly. His eyes look so sad and bleak as he tries to convince the receptionist to do something. I hear the last sentence that the receptionist says before the shock hits me:

"... can't give you her timetable, dear, it's against the rules."

My smile disappears, breath catching in my throat and heart thumping hard again- I'd forgotten how gorgeous he is. I'm frozen, sitting there with my mouth open and tears falling freely down my cheeks again.

Oh god, I have to get out of here before he sees me. As soon as his eyes meet mine, they'll be filled with ridiculing laughter. And then, with the receptionist watching, he'll make fun of me.

"Jordan, the receptionist needs her phone back, I'll see you tonight," I lie, keeping my eyes on the floor. I'm terrified that if I look at him, he'll feel someone's staring at him- you know, that weird feeling.

"Okay, but you're going straight home, right?"

"Yeah. Look, I have to be quick, love you," I hurry, hanging up.

Darting a glance at Brady, I see that he's staring at the receptionist and speaking urgently. Placing the phone back onto the table, I crawl under a desk under on the opposite side of the room. Yes, I know, you may be thinking 'that's a bit far-fetched', but what else am I supposed to do? It's not like I'm planning to stay here for a while, but I need to find a way out of the office without bumping into Brady.

I look around the room in panic. Damn, there are no doors!

"I can't give you her timetable, young man, I don't know how many times I have to tell you," I can hear the receptionist's muffled voice from my current embarrassing position underneath the desk. Hopefully nobody will come in. Oh god, this is insane, how am I going to get out of here?

I know my eyes are wide with fear as they dart around the room. Maybe I could leg it out of a window? No, that's insane. They're too small, and the receptionist will wonder where on Earth I've gone.

"But I need to find out where she is!"

At the sound of Brady's voice, I freeze, clutching my chest. I'd forgotten how gorgeous and deep his voice is. Is he looking for my timetable? Oh my god, he's planning on barging into my lesson and making fun of me there. He's that desperate to make me hurt?

Instead of sitting there to wallow in my sadness, I push everything to the back out of my mind and focus on getting out of here. There's only one door, and that's the way I came in. Oh, god, and where Brady is standing right now.

I close my eyes, taking a few deep breaths. My hand hikes my bag strap onto my shoulder again, and I just hold onto it for a second. Think about Jordan. Just think about Jordan, and how much you've missed him. When this is all over, he'll be there- I tried to tell myself. And don't look at Brady.

And with that, I stand up.

Without looking through the glass window, I keep my eyes on the floor as I walk to the door. My heart is pounding the hardest it's been all day, I can even hear it in my ears. I don't think he's seen me yet, but I can't be sure- my eyes are fixed on the floor as if it's the most riveting TV show on Earth.

I can tell that my hand is shaking when my hand slowly grasps the door handle. I feel a little better now knowing that I'm hidden by the door and he can't actually see me. Everything's about to get worse though, I can feel it. Something inside me is saying that I'll never get by him unnoticed.

I take a deep breath, think about Jordan and all the other things I've battled in my rather short life, and push down on the handle.

Just knowing that I'm in the same room as him makes me feel so electrical that it makes me cold. The blood running through my veins seems to have trouble getting about my body, and I can feel it throb. I don't look at him as I close the door of the office behind me, but I can feel someone watching me- whether it's the receptionist or Brady, I have no idea.

A faint feeling seems to creep into my brain, but I push it back somehow and turn round.

Straight into the eyes of Brady.

{{{{{{{{{}}}}}}}}}

My breath seems to stop. This is the moment I've been dreading. I'm too stunned to move, and through my current terrified state of mind I wait for the mocking.

But the laughter never comes. And Brady doesn't look... well, good at all. I never noticed before through the glass window, but he has shadows underneath his eyes, as if he didn't go to sleep last night.

I'm too scared to say anything, but I can't look away from him either. His eyes just seemed to catch me with a net, holding me prisoner. They're extraordinarily brown like a little puppy's. They look stunned, matching my own, but after a few moments they become desperate and adoring.

Yes, I'm confused. And scared. I'm the most confused and scared that I've ever been in my life. But I can't look away.

"Kayla," he croaks, gulping in desperation. The receptionist is staring at us both, but I can't bring myself to care right now.

He just said my name. Brady said my name. And it sounded like a caress, so beautiful coming from his lips. For just a second, I feel myself go soft and velvety, forgetting every little bit of hurt that he's done to me. I'm just a girl with a stupid crush again. That second is bliss.

But I can't forget. The memories come flying back like a jet plane and invade my mind like Hitler- all the cheap trips to the bathroom with a popular girl, him and Chloe on that bed together causing my classmates to ridicule and embarrass me with the knowledge of my crush on him, and the fact that I'll never be good enough for a popular like him. Not good enough for anybody.

I manage to tear my eyes away from him and rush to the door. Humiliation is strong in my mind. My ears hear him shout my name again, but my mind just doesn't seem to take it in. But it sounds almost as if he's crying. Why is Brady crying? Brady never cries, ever. And why is he crying now? Oh god, it's one of his jokes, isn't it. He wants to pretend to cry to make fun of me. I bet he's smug right now, with fake sadness in his eyes and a mocking smirk on his stupid perfect lips.

I'm so confused and hurt that it takes every ounce of determination in my body not to look round as I hurry down the stone steps. Oh god, I had forgotten that it was breaktime- the entire school is watching me with smirks as I hurry down the path to the sidewalk. I'd been wrong earlier- this is the worst I've ever felt in my life. I hate being the center of attention, and this is the wrong type of attention too. This isn't some birthday party with me as the centerpiece- this is me

A few people laugh at me as I clutch the strap of my bag closer to me, tears in my eyes. I sniff hard.

Then I can hear the entrance doors crash open after me, and heavy footsteps approaching my hurrying figure. I know who it is without turning round, and that makes me tear up even more because he won't leave me alone. A popular sitting on the bench with a cigarette in his hand, flicking ash and laughing at me with his friends, starts to look amazed and stunned. I know it's because of Brady following me.

Oh god, everyone is watching. Everyone is seeing me cry. And it's just about to get worse.

"Kayla, stop!" he says desperately from behind me.

I don't stop, just keep going. Like I do with everything bad in my life. This is a different hurt from the one I felt when my dad had hit me, or when I got taken away from my home, or when Jordan told me that our mother had left us by choice when we were younger. No, this is a very different pain- the stab right in the heart with a sharp knife, sort of pain.

"Kayla!" I feel his hand on my shoulder. It makes me snap.

"Just leave me alone, don't you think I feel shit enough?" I snap, turning round. As much as I try and sound angry and cold, I'm just not built like that, and can hear my voice waver with tears.

He looks as if he's... heartbroken. He's a good actor.

There's probably no point telling you how horrible I feel right now. You can probably guess. I feel humiliated, scared, sick, and emotionally and physically tired.

"I need to talk to you!" he says urgently. It's strange, but I think I can actually see tears in his eyes. They look heartbroken- as if he can barely contain his hurt too.

Oh my god, is this really happening? It feels like a dream. Right now, I just want everything to go away. My tears keep running down my face, and although I will them to stop, they just won't. It's as if I have no control over my own body anymore. My feelings are crushed- as if they have no life anymore. The blood running through my veins feels like electricity once again, and I'm certain that if I had Jordan here with me I could cope better with this.

But here's not here. Just like my mother's not here. I'm always on my own. And now Brady wants to play his stupid Make-The-Girl-With-A-Crush-Cry-Even-More game.

"Just leave me alone," I stutter/yell, sobbing now, and run off down the street in the direction of the Orphanage.

At the end of the road, when I don't hear any footsteps running after me, I dart a glance back, whimpering. I'm stunned and freakishly confused by what I see. Brady is on his knees in the dirty road, shaking, and Embry is running toward him and lifting him up. They seem to be running into the woods, though Brady is stumbling shakily.

I whimper once more and run to the Orphanage, practically hysterical. My heart has officially broken into a thousand pieces.