WESLEY CHRISTOPHER JERALD was many things. He, like Blake and I, grew up to be a perfect rebel one way or another. I guess how you turn out to be is really dependent on the friends and the people you mix with because even though we spent most of our teenage lives apart, we still came together as the same type in the end.

Technically, I wasn't a bad girl until recently. I was a good girl, the golden girl. I had wonderful grades, wonderful friends, and a wonderful life. Charlotte Brooke came in without any warning, swinging around a figurative machete, and destroyed my entire life. What I've worked so hard to achieve, my entire empire, broke down because of a stupid, little wallflower.

My friends soon became her friends, and Blake, my boyfriend, soon became her boyfriend. She took absolutely everything away from me, except for three things. Summer Dollen, my love for high heels, and last but definitely not the least, Wesley Jerald. I was hopeful that this list would just keep getting longer on with the days to come.

Over our bonding session, which consisted of chocolate and cookies 'n' cream ice cream, he came into mutual agreement with me that Charlotte was nothing short of a vile and despicable human being who had something wrong with her mind. He sat there and listened to my whole story without interrupting once, unlike my so-called ex-best friend or ex-boyfriend, who didn't even bother listening to me finish saying, "Hear me out," before deciding that all between us were to be cut off.

I guess now that I was spending time with Wes, I noticed what a perfect match Blake and Charlotte were. They came into my life like huge fireworks and exploded everything that belonged to me. They ruined me. They destroyed the person I was.

But of course, I had to give it to them. If they hadn't done what they did, I wouldn't be the Avery Chase I am today. I would still be in Blake's arms, listening to his sweet nothings. I wouldn't be sharing ice cream with my other childhood best friend, and we wouldn't be laughing. I would still be under Blake's nefarious spell. So, sure, Charlotte, in some cruel, twisted way, was a blessing in my life.

But that didn't mean that I didn't want to rip her throat out. She still played the role of the lead actress in the play that ruined my entire reputation and life, so I still hated her. I still wanted her to rot under my shoes. I wanted her to feel what I felt, to have everything she ever had to be completely ripped away from her.

I want her gone.

And I knew just exactly how to do it.

Tucked under a giant willow tree just outside our favorite childhood ice cream shop, I fished out the heavily drawn-on notebook just as I finished up my ice cream. I dusted my hands off lightly on the fabric of my pants, flipped the notebook around, and examined each drawing with utmost curiosity. Scribbles and quotes adorned each little corner of the notebook, curling and trailing on like vines of a tree as they curled into something more. Each doodle seemed so filled with life although color lacked from it greatly. My heart pumped bitterly when my eyes ran over the initials of Blake and Charlotte's names.

"So, what is that?" Wes gestured to the little white notebook I held in my hands while licking his ice cream cone. I tested its weight, lightly tossing it in the air, and my lips curved into a sinister villain-worthy grin.

"That, my Igor, is Charlotte Brooke's notebook. She apparently had been crushing on Blake since middle school and writes love songs about him. You will not believe the amount of information these pieces of paper hold."

At my words, Wesley faked as an exaggerated gasp. Slapping the palms of his ice cream-covered hands over his cheeks, his proclaimed in a faux shocked manner, "Wow! I didn't know that people actually thought of storing information on paper! Such a wonderful discovery!" Upon seeing my unamused expression, he gave me a simple, lopsided grin. "I admit, though, that is absolutely disgusting and stalker-ish." Wesley laughed before dusting off the remaining crumbs off his hands and cheeks.

"Your sarcasm was not appreciated. And yes, I know. This was like a diary to her. And this will be her downfall."

"What do you plan to do?"

"You'll see. You'll see." I grinned, a wonderfully diabolical plan forming in my mind.

***

"You're in school early," Summer commented as we made our way toward our lockers.

"I know. I had to be," I vaguely replied to her while opening my locker.

"A little bit more information would have been nice," Summer grumbled, and I laugh slightly. "I miss those times when you told me about absolutely everything and anything. And that includes that juicy little tidbit about that junior, Mason Pil—"

"Patience, my little munchkin. You'll know soon enough." I chuckled as I cut her off mid-sentence, patting her cheeks lightly, and slammed the locker door shut.

I was walking to the cafeteria when a scream came from behind me, followed by an all too familiar voice I recalled on many sleepless nights. "Avery!"

I spun slightly on my heels to face Blake as he came stomping over, a piece of paper in his hands. "What is the meaning of this?" He held up the paper in front of my face, and I smiled innocently.

"What is the meaning of what, Blake?" Sticking to the tried and trusted same old routine, I batted my eyelids as daintily as I could, a small flattered smile shaping the corners of my lips. Deciding to play innocent had never been a better idea. If this were a cartoon, fumes would have already been shooting out of Blake's ears. He looked livid as the paper in his hands crumpled slightly from his tight grip.

"This! You stole Charlotte's notebook and pasted photocopies all over the school!"

"I did no such thing, Blake. Such false accusations!" I smiled and lightly took the paper away from his hand. Pretending to examine it, I smirked as another idea formed in my head. Clearing my throat, I began to read, "You're the light of my world, the one who lights my sky. You're the star, glimmering with your eyes. My heart brightens upon seeing you, my heart flutters when you're near—" He ripped off the paper from my hand, and I laughed, my voice echoing through the school's hallways as Charlotte came into my view.

"Char! I didn't know you write songs about Blakey here! And would you look at the date? My? Did you write this in middle school? You've been crushing on Blake since middle school?" I mocked, placing both hands on my hips as Summer stifled a laugh from behind me. "Well, at least we know that the writing belonged to a child and, thankfully, not a teenager. I mean, your writing skills can't still be that awkward now, can it?"

"That's enough, Avery. You have no right to do this to Charlotte. She had done nothing to offend you. So back off," Blake growled, taking a threatening step forward after shoving Charlotte behind him and what he thought was away from the crowd's view.

"On the contrary, Blake. She did. And I will make her life miserable. This—" I dramatically gestured to our surroundings "—is only the beginning." I winked at him, turned on my heel, and walked away. Charlotte was a crying mess.

***

"What you just did was epic!" Summer laughed, giving me a high-five as we sat down and placed our trays in front of us.

"I know. That's why I was in school so early today. I had Wesley help me with all this. So technically, I wasn't lying. Remember him? Real tall, shaggy brown hair and always left scorpions on your front door with his siblings when we were younger? Wes did all the work, and I was just the brains." I laughed and munched on my apple. Just as I was about to bite into it again, someone took away the apple from my hands, and I heard a crunch from behind me.

A wave of cologne hit me as I frowned slightly, disappointed about the disappearing fruit. "Wes! That was my apple! Get your own," I grumbled, snatching the apple back.

He grinned and then shrugged slightly as he pouted fakely. "Sorry, princess, you owe me now. Do you know how much work it took to spread those sickening love notes? I lost my breakfast because of it, so this is payment." Laughing, Wes took the apple from my hands once more and bit into it in an exaggerated manner, his laughter echoing in my ears even after he had long left the cafeteria.