(For Y/N's POV, I write in first not second person. It honestly makes more sense because it's supposed to be her POV, just like everyone else will be in first person not second or third.)

Y/N's POV

I file into history, sitting down in my normal seat. Professor Wade wouldn't notice if the kids in his class sat in different seats, anyways. Constance Strong sits beside me on the left, I don't know her well other than the fact that she's a great student, never late, honor roll, etc. I was paired on an assignment with her once, and it was great working with her. She just joined the start of the school year, it's now February. We talk sometimes, but she's got her life and I've got mine. My loner life, that is. Maya Violette, the girl who hates me for no reason, sits in front of me, her two trouble making friends beside her. Most teens know Maya, but of course not everyone does. The whole school being known and run by three mean girls is an overused and incorrect stereotype, and I prefer not to perpetuate it. To my right is an empty seat where a sick Ellie Saunders should have been, and behind me sits Rhodes Callahan, the handsome African-American quarterback for our school, Cyber High. 

"Good morning, students." Professor Wade walks in, just as the clock turns to eleven sharp. I honestly think he must stand outside the door for a second after going to the teacher's lounge for a snack because he always walks in on time. 

"Good morning professor Wade." The class choruses back in the most monotonous tone in the world. He starts by telling us what we're going to be learning about, when Darren Swipe strides in. 

"Mister Swipe, you're late." Professor Wade tells him. 

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Darren grins, and winks at me. My cheeks burn. What the heck? 

"Detention, Mister Swipe." Wade tells him, and Darren rolls his eyes once the professor's back is turned. He walks over and sits in the empty seat by me. I ignore him and try to take notes as Wade drones on about World War II. I risk a glance in Darren's direction. He's doing something on his phone, his tall, spiky bright red hair the same as it always is. His bright blue eyes are reading a reply from whoever he's texting, and his tall built frame is just that: tall and built. He catches me staring and shoots me a grin. I roll my eyes and get back to work. A moment later, I feel something against my foot. I look down to see a pencil with bite marks all over it. I wrinkle my nose and glance at Darren. He gives a stupid grin and points at it. Rolling my eyes yet again, I stoop down to retrieve it. I sit up and hand it to him. He mouths "thank you" and I nod, turning back to my notes. 

But there's something else there. 

A note from--well, guess who? 

NF. 

Just kidding. I wish. Darren Swipe. 

It read, "I saw you checkin' me out ;)". 

I resist the urge to throw up and pick up my pencil to write a response. But what was I doing? Did I really care to reply? But it was already done. I found myself folding the note when I felt someone standing beside me. 

Professor Wade. 

"Excuse me miss L/N, may I see that?" Cheeks aflame with embarrassment, I hand him the folded note. "Ah," he reads it. "Passing notes, are we? Well, I'm sure you'll have much more time to 'check out' Mister Swipe in detention." The class roars with laughter, and I feel like crying. I've never gotten detention before. Wade frowns. "I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." 

That makes two of us. 

I keep my head down, taking notes until the bell rings. Even when it does, I'm slow to pack up my things. I walk out silently, and see Darren Swipe out of the corner of my eye. He looks sorry, but I turn away. I don't want to see him again today. 

I put things up in my locker, and grab my lunch money. It was out of my own small job I used to have at McDonald's--except I was fired three days ago because some idiot complained about how bad I screwed up, claiming I messed up his order (he ordered wrong, happens all the time--he just blamed me), spilled his drink on him (he spilled it on himself), along with many other complaints, but that was because I said no to going out with him, the thirty-year-old creep. I had a job interview today, but now it would be hard to get there after detention. And my father expected me home on time. After my mother passed, I moved in with my father and his ever-changing girlfriends. I didn't get to know any of the poor girls personally enough. I couldn't wait to grow up and get my own life, so I didn't have to be stuck with my father anymore. 

I trudge off to the lunchroom, and wait patiently in line. When it's my turn, they're out of F/F (favorite food, like the main meat course) and I have to settle on the alternative: the murder meatloaf. It's not really called that, but there's a legend that one kid is fated to die from the poison that is placed in one hunk of meatloaf every year. Being a senior, I've gone here three years and have witnessed people getting expelled numerous times, but never any meatloaf fatalities. As I'm walking away, I trip over something, causing my tray to clatter to the ground, spilling my food, and landing face first in the murderous meatloaf. I groan, sitting up and wiping my face with a napkin, and I see Allie Schwartz, Maya's buddy, laughing as she saunters back to her little pack. Humiliated even more, I clean up the mess and walk over to an empty table with no lunch. I had no more money with me, and I told myself I wasn't even hungry. 

Putting my face in my hands, I let out a sigh. I told myself to look up so it didn't look like I was crying, when I met two blue eyes. 

"Hey," Darren says awkwardly. 

I glare daggers. "Here to get me in more trouble?"

"No!" He shakes his head quickly, "I came to apologize. I'm sorry. I really am. . ." I turned away. I didn't care. I really didn't. "I also think you dropped this." He hands me a wrapped tampon, and my cheeks burn the color of his spiky hair. He holds it out, like a child who doesn't know what it is. Is this a joke to him? How could he not know what it is? I snatch it back, and turn away. This morning gave me enough humiliation for a lifetime. 

"Okay. . . Then. See ya later." He gets up, and walks towards Grim Lock, his friend. Grim Lock is a huge, tall, muscular guy with tan skin, green eyes, and black hair. He used to be on the football team, but got kicked because he missed too many practices. It's not too far away, and even though the cafeteria is loud, I hear Grim's loud voice say in what I guess is supposed to be his version of a whisper, "Steeljaw's gathering his pack tonight." 

What the frick?

Darren whispers something back--quietly--and they walk out. Before I know what I'm doing, my feet are following them out the cafeteria door. What the heck are you doing Y/N? I demand of myself, but I keep following them down the hall. As I slip out from behind the water fountain, I'm met with a most awful sight: Frank Thunder. 

"Hey Y/N." He grins, his tall form leaning against the wall. 

"Oh, hey Frank." I laugh nervously, knowing what he wants. 

"How about a date later? You and I? I know the perfect place." His slimy voice oozes. I shudder. "Uh, sorry, but I've got a job interview, soooo. . ." 

"What about a kiss to suffice then?" He asks, leaning closer. I shake my head. "I need to go. . ." 

"It'll be just a quick peck," he grins, and grabs my wrists. I try to shake free as he leans closer, so instead I just scream as loud as I can. He narrows his eyes, and I knee him in "the spot". Then the next moments blur together: Frank is punched in the face, and I'm inching away from the wall. "Don't touch her! Respect a girl's space," I hear Darren's voice. Grim was gone, and Frank was on the floor. 

"Well, 'bot, we know this fight isn't over." Frank snarls. 

Bot? 

I catch Darren's gaze. 

Then I just bolt out and back into the cafeteria, but the bell rings and I have to walk out to my locker. I shakily put my stuff away, trying to gather my thoughts. Before I know it, school's out, but I'm not. I grab my stuff and head to detention with a sigh. I find a seat and sit. There's another girl in here a grade younger than me, who's playing with her chewing gum. Two bored boys are asleep in the back, and of course, Mrs. Turner, the ancient woman who watches the kids, is asleep, too. Darren pops in a moment later. Geesh, he's even late to detention!

He sits beside me, and I want to turn away. 

But I remember what he did for me. 

In the hallway, of course. 

"Um," I start, glancing at him. I take a breath, straighten my shoulders, and force myself to look him in the eyes. "Thanks for what you did back there." Then I add, "You're a good fighter." I remember his form, his strength, his speed. 

"Oh, yeah no problem. And thanks. I took lessons." He nods. "Thunderho--" he breaks into an awkward cough. "Thunder, uh, Frank Thunder can be a real jerk." 

I nod, adding his stuttering to my list of weird things going on today. Which was a different list than my embarrassing moments one, of course. 

"Fighting lessons?" I ask after a moment, and glance around to see that no one cares we are whispering. Well, the only person who's awake, the girl, is absorbed in her phone.

"Well, more like self-defense," He whispers back. 

I nod, and something buzzes on his phone. "Ack, I gotta go. Cover for me? Great, thanks!" Then he's gone. Just like that. Openmouthed, I take in all of that. Then I sigh and face the rest of my doom until detention is over. 

"Miss L/N, where is Mister Swipe?" A waking Mrs. Turner yawns. 

"Oh, he threw up and had to go home." I report, and she nods unsuspectingly. 

Now then, off to that job.

❤❤❤

I get off my bike and look up at the junkyard. This must be the place. 

A kid opens the door and smiles. "Hey, you must be Y/N! I'm Russel Clay." He sticks out his hand through the small opening and I shake it. "It's a pleasure Russel." 

He glances back. "Okay, come in." He opens the door. Strange. 

I see a man with light brown hair, a hint of orange in it, with a beard and a Hawaiian shirt. He walks over. "Hello I'm Y/N, I'm here for the job interview?" I ask, putting my hand out. He shakes it. "Denny Clay, it's a pleasure Y/N. But there's no interview required. . . Sorting valuables isn't that difficult." We laugh, but I feel confused. "I thought I was sorting. . . This?" I motion to the large amounts of junk. 

"You are, but my dad thinks it's all valuable." Russel rolls his eyes. 

"They are valuable, Rusty!" Denny exclaims, and Russell protests, "Don't call me that!" 

Denny turns back to me. "Let me show you around and give you the rules today, then tomorrow you can start working." 

"Okay!" I nod brightly, putting my bike up. 

"And hey, I can show you to my old cars. Maybe you could fix one up and I'll take it outta your pay." 

"Really? Thanks Mr. Clay!" 

"No problem, but call me Denny." He smiles, and motions for me to follow him. He gives me a tour of his super large junkyard. "A friend of mine told me I had to start picking up and organizing, but I don't have the time." He explains to me, handing me a list of inventory which proved to be the only piece of paper longer than a CVS receipt. "Here are my old cars." He showed me the lot. "Wow!" I exclaim, going around to each of them. 

"This one's cool, and this one, and this one!" What can I say, I'm a car girl! 

"Oh uh, I dunno about that one. . . Or that. . ." Denny starts going into I-can-never-part-with-my-junk-mode. 

"You have to let it go, dad. You can't keep everything forever." Rusty rolls his eyes. 

"I know rust--er, son." Denny sighs. My eyes widen as I see a red Chevrolet Corvette Stingray.  "Whoa. . ." I whisper, moving to the parked car. "It's beautiful!" 

"And not for sale, nope it's a bit of a fixer upper yet." Denny leads me away, and I blink. Well. I hadn't really thought he'd give me that one anyways. 

"Something strange is going on." I mumble. I eye Denny and Rusty, who swallow nervously. I snap my fingers. "That's it!" 

"Wh-What's it?" Denny asks anxiously. 

"You were the one who moved my mom's old family car business in here!" I point to it. "Moved piece by piece and refurbished. I remember seeing you when they were about to knock it down!"

"Oh yeah!" Denny nods, remembering. He quickly sobers. "I'm sorry about your mother." I nod, my mom had passed a few years prior. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then!" He shows me out and I thank him before pedaling off. I hear something Denny says as I leave, 

"Phew, that was a close one."

I'll add that to my strange things list.

❤❤❤

I creep in quietly to see my father is out. I missed him today, good. Maybe being in detention had saved me from whatever he had in store for me today. I grab a bowl of cereal, and realize how hungry I am now that I spoon it into my mouth. I hadn't eaten yet today. Quickly, I do my homework, and brush my teeth, slipping silently into bed. 

I ponder today's events, going over my utter humiliation and the strange things that happened. But the last thing my mind replays is Darren Swipe's blue eyes looking into mine. 

(2,470 words! Wow that is longer than any other chapter I have on wattpad! Hope you liked it, this one is longer cuz well that's my imagination right now, also like the first episode in some series, this chapter is just longer. Btw did ya like the title? It hit me like a transformer and I had to work around it, isn't it a funny chapter title to start with? I don't know how long my other chapters will be. Please comment and vote to show your support, it really means a lot to me! I hate asking that so sorry by the way. Anyway until next time flames! Ash)