Another sort-of filler.

The girls get into a bit of a fight in this chapter, and Mich gets angry at Frollo.

Read on :)

Did you make your bed?
Did you lose your head?
Are you still awake
From the things you said

You close your eyes
But the sleep won't come
`Cause you can't escape
What's said and done

Did you draw the line
In the sand again
Did you make a stand
Out on a limb

Don't be so hard on yourself
'Cause you can't change the world
You can't change the world alone
Just be

'Just Be'- Styx.

Walking in the school gates that morning, I was greeted by the sight of my three unusually sober-faced friends standing there waiting for me. I nodded to them and headed into the grounds, hearing them follow me quietly. Out of the corner of my eye I could see them exchanging glances, as if they wanted to say something but were afraid of what my reaction would be. But I decided to ignore it, and we walking silently up the path together.

I didn't blame them for being weary of me. I was sure I looked like a thundercloud- if not my sour expression, then my clenched fists definitely gave away that I was not happy. At all. Plus they had more than likely all seen the video, and they knew what my reaction would've been and how angry I could get about things. So they had every reason to be cautious.

As the winter breeze stirred the leaves on the path and lifted my hair, I wrapped my arms around myself and looked around, noticing as we entered the main building that all the other students there stood in groups of two or three, staring at phones and iPods. Tinny music blared out of one as we passed it, and I immediately recognized it as that hateful song that I had heard earlier that morning. Almost everyone who was watching the video was discreetly bopping up and down or giggling madly, and I was tempted to snatch the devices out of their hands and throw them on the roof or something, but instead I stared resolutely at the ground and kept walking, clenching my teeth.

"So," Em started quietly as we approached her locker, carefully dialing her combination and not looking at me, "I suppose you went and watched the video, then?"

I looked at her as if to say 'Duh!'.

"It's had a few hundred thousand views already, you know, and almost as many likes." She shook her head, dumping her books in the locker. "This thing has gone viral."

"Poor guy," said Bex, sounding surprisingly sympathetic. "Picking on someone for their looks is one thing, but what Esme did was really mean."

Really mean. Huh. That, and a whole lot more words I'm not allowed to say. I pursed my lips, suddenly feeling the need to blame someone, and turned to Em. "You should've done something."

"Me? What could I do?"

"Maybe tried to speak up, stop what was going to happen?" I was careful lower my voice so as not to attract attention, but the intensity of my whisper belied my frustration. And, to Em, was pretty much as good as yelling. "You were right there, you knew what she was planning and you knew how I feel about it! Why didn't you do something?"

She looked at me as if I had suddenly grown an extra head. "What, like run up on stage and get slimed with him in the process?" She held up a hand, counting off with her fingers. "Ok, first of all, I didn't know exactly what she was going to do, and secondly, everything happened too fast for me to do anything. And thirdly, I prefer to keep my reputation intact and under Esme's radar, thank you very much."

"Do you realize how freaking selfish you sound?" I was beginning to get worked up, but I didn't bother trying to calm down. It was too late for that now. "All you care about is staying invisible and ignoring the bad stuff around you- never mind that Kaz was going to be publicly humiliated and then bullied for the rest of his life, as long as you've got your precious little reputation, everything's fine and dandy!"

"Michigan!" Dez reproached sternly but quietly, frowning at me. "That's enough!"

But the damage was done. I had meant everything I said, and Em knew it, too. She slammed her locker shut and took a step towards me, crossing her arms and glaring at me. "Well, I'm sorry if I don't live up to all your grand expectations and inspirational standards, Mich, but some of us would like to get through high school without our lives being made a living hell. If you're so obsessed with helping that boy and you knew what was going to happen, why didn't you do something last night?"

"Because I couldn't go to the dance, stupid, otherwise I would've."

Em rolled her eyes, her tone sarcastic. "Yeah, right. I bet if push came to shove you'd just stand there in the crowd looking like a fish, too afraid to put your words into action, because that's the way you are."

My eyes widened in outrage, then narrowed at her, giving her a penetrating evil eye. "Maybe I want to change that. Maybe I'm over being a selfish prig and want to help people instead."

Em set her mouth in a firm line, eyes glinting. "Fine. But don't expect me to follow in your almighty footsteps."

"Believe me, I don't anymore."

"Good."

"Good," I said back, staring her down until she finally took a step back and looked away.

"Come on, guys," she said coolly, hoisting her bag on her shoulder and turning away. "Let's get to classes before the bell rings."

And without waiting to see if they were following, she headed down the hallway. After a moment of hesitation, the others followed her, leaving me shocked and shaken, feeling empty. I had never fought with any of my friends before, and I found I had no idea what to do now. What happened next? Was I still part of the group? Should I go and apologise? After all, I had accused her of being a selfish prig... not a crime punishable by death, since we often exchanged playful insults. But I hadn't been joking this time. I had insulted my friend for real, and it seemed the right thing to do to go and make up...

NO. I squared my shoulders and forced myself to start walking, ignoring those around me who had heard some of the argument and were looking on in interest, wondering if there was going to be a catfight in the works like the bored, stupid high-schoolers they were. Em was always like that, afraid of what others might think and stubborn as hell. I had meant what I said- every word of it. And she had insulted me, too- she had accused me of being a coward, which totally wasn't true... was it?

I shook my head forcefully, my nails biting into my palms as I walked down the hallway. I was shy, not cowardly, and I could prove it if I wanted to. Em was wrong about me, and I didn't need to let it bother me anymore. She would come around soon enough. Meanwhile, I had more important things to worry about- like finding Quasimodo before Esme did...

As the day progressed it became abundantly clear that Kaz was not at school. Once again, I had to deal with strange feelings of loneliness and disappointment, made all the stronger now that there was no guarantee that I had any friends left. Whether he was sick (from the slime? Maybe he had caught a cold form being out late at night?) or just hiding out of shame, I knew that he couldn't stay away forever.

Surprisingly, Esme was also absent. I found out through the course of the day that she had been suspended- what for, I never completely understood, but it seemed the teachers thought she went too far and this was her punishment. Some punishment suspension was, when all it was was a day off school, but it meant that there was peace in the school for once, instead of perpetual fear.

The next day, though, she was back. When she entered the school that Thursday surrounded by the boys and a few loyal fans, they were greeted with cheers, whistles and applause, and she smugly basked in the approval of the student body. I stood at my locker, watching her go past, fully aware that though they were cheering her on, the majority of the students were tense and expectant. A fearful atmosphere had appeared, and I knew that everyone was waiting for the inevitable torture to begin. But it wouldn't happen yet, for Kaz was still away.

To my relief, my friends were not avoiding me. We met at the gates as usual and walked in together, but the playful banter between us had almost completely ceased, and the friendly atmosphere had turned decidedly frosty. Bex and Dez were quieter than usual, and Em hardly looked at me, let alone spoke. Privately, I was beginning to feel that I should apologise, try to set things straight, but I didn't, hoping it would blow over soon. Besides, she had insulted me too and she had been completely wrong, whereas I knew I was right. Why should I apologise first?

Such reasonings did not make me feel any better about it, but stubbornness was a trait we seemed to share.

When Friday came around and Quasimodo still didn't show, I knew what I would be doing that afternoon. By now, however, it was something to look forward to, since I really wanted to see him and offer some kind of comfort before Esme got her claws into him. The fox had been making the most of her fame, and the prank was the most talked of event since the first one. She was basking in the glory and attention, surrounded by half the school at lunchtimes as she shared her plans for dominance and general enemy making with her 'friends'. I spent half the day in my sanctuary, the art room, but my creativity was all but nonexistent, stifled by my anger at Esme. When it did appear, I made use of it by imagining the most creative ways to kill the evil witch.

At the end of the day I was approached by a teacher with a familiar pile of papers in her arms. I took the from her without needing any explanations and told her they would be delivered, and got out of there quickly. Mum was all too happy to oblige, and soon we were heading into Boronia, looking for a street that would quickly become very familiar to me.

Mum drove us into Notre-Dame Ct and parked a little further away, under a tree, and I made my way over to the little, almost abandoned-looking house. The police car was there, and the yard was still overgrown, but as I climbed the fence I saw that the pile of bottles was gone and some of the rusty junk had disappear, although whether it had been kicked under the grass or completely removed I couldn't tell, and and frankly didn't want to find out. Although I was quaking inside at the thought of meeting the man I had met before, I held my head high and forced myself to walked confidently up the path towards the door. I was not a coward. I was not going to show my weakness. But all the same I really hoped that Kaz would answer the door instead of the scary-looking policeman.

Ha. When had luck ever gone my way?

The door opened on my third round of knocking, and there stood the policeman, uniform and all, even the badge. 'Officer Frollo', it read; faded and chipped, pinned onto a faded uniform, worn by a tired, faded man. Or that's what it looked like to me, anyway.

In the second or two before I spoke, I tried to size him up and found the results a little confusing. He didn't look drunk, exactly, but he had the air of a drinker (or maybe the smell, i couldn't really tell) and there was a glass in his hand instead of a bottle. I knew he was rude from the last time we met, but there was also something dangerous about him that made me feel like shrinking into the ground, tucking myself into a ball and crawling away to hide. Most policemen were authoritative, maybe stern and rigid, but nothing like this. I could imagine this Frollo person striking fear into any heart he encountered, even hardened criminals. That's what he was doing to me, anyway.

"Yes?" he grunted, staring down at me.

I gulped, trying to find my voice. What was that I had thought earlier, about not being weak or cowardly? "I've, ah, brought Quasimodo's homework again. It's been a little while and he's missed quite a bit of work, so..."

Frollo took the papers from me without a word and went to shut the door, but I wasn't finished yet. No matter how scary this man was, I need to know about Kaz.

"Wait, please..." I held up a hand, catching his attention. "I just have to know: how is he?"

"What?" He squinted at me as if it was weird for me to be asking about his son. And for some reason, that kinda bothered me.

I shrugged it off and elaborated. "Well, it's just that I saw what happened on Tuesday night and I wanted to know if he's ok. It was horrible, what they did, and I wanted to-"

"He got what he deserved."

I stared at him, shocked. "What?"

"It was his own fault, what happened." The man glared at me as if I was the one to blame. "I forbade him from going. I told him what would happen, how he would be treated, and I expressly told him he couldn't go. But the stupid boy disobeyed me. I have no sympathy for him. He got what he deserved."

Although I privately thought that there was a little truth in what he said, I wasn't about to let it go. "You knew this would happen?"

Frollo laughed, a harsh, croaky sound followed by a cough. "Of course I did. He is ugly, deformed- the perfect target for bullies. How could it not happen? I knew that he would be treated like something less than human, like a monster. People like him do not have friends, only enemies."

"That's not completely true- I'm his friend."

"Oh, a do-gooder." Frollo laughed again. "Quasimodo does not need your pity, silly girl. He needs to learn to stand on his own two feet and see the world for what it really is. So stop pretending and go home."

The door began to close again, and I tried to stop it. "But if I could just see him-"

He looked at me coldly. "He is being punished for his disobedience and can see no-one. Goodbye."

And despite my best efforts, the door closed. I glared at the wood and mottled glass as if it was at fault, my hands clenched at my sides, before turning around and stalking back to the car, fuming.

Not much to say about this. Leave a review? Cuz i kind of need them at the moment.