[Revised] 

Max sat at the back of the room, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he leaned back in his chair. He rested his head against the wall and remained with his eyes closed, tuning out the yapping from everyone in the class except his two friends—Jeremy and Sebastian.

"Dude, have you heard about what happened?" Jeremy's desk was in front of Max's, but he was currently sitting on his chair back to front. His Finnish heritage had blessed him with natural Sunflower-blond hair, which he had taken to the edge with 'The Mainstream Hipster' haircut. Girls fawned over his ice-blue eyes, along with his lip-, eyebrow-, and ear-piercing—his skate punk attire gave him the green light to behave like a complete miscreant both in and out of school.

"What do you mean? Are you talking about the bus ride?" Sebastian, the mellow one of the trio sat on Max's right, effectively creating a cage around him in the corner of the room. He was the only African-American baseball player on the varsity team, and his skills as the utility player had earned him the respect he deserved. He was more conservative with his attire: he wore a white hoodie with black jeans and Nike sneakers.

But you know what they say: don't judge a book by its cover.

"Yeah, dude. Can I tell him, or would you like the honours, since you're on the team."

"Jesus Christ, do you two ever listen to yourselves? Just tell me what the hell happened already before Skullet gets his panties in a twist." Max huffed, opening an eye to cast a look at Mr. Lawrence.

It doesn't take a genius to understand how Mr. Lawrence had earned that lovely nickname.

The two boys look at each other for a moment, and then Jeremy nodded.

"Robert got his ass beat today," Sebastian said bluntly, clicking his pen while he looked at Max.

Both of Max's eyes flew open and he fractionally turned his head towards Sebastian, "Robert? There are about a thousand fucking Roberts at this school. Give me the details."

"Robert, the pitcher—Uh, how can I describe him without sounding homo... he's going out with that ratchet Samantha."

"Oh yeah, that guy. He talks a lot of shit, but he's actually just a pussy. Who jacked him up?"

"What's her—Jero, she's in your Math class."

Jeremy raised an eyebrow at Sebastian before his face blanked in thought. He then slowly began to nod, "Zara? That dweeb. She's in this class too— sits right over..." He twisted on his chair to localise her, but when he couldn't he turned back to the two boys. "She's not here right now. I don't have to tell you what she looks like, right?"

After the mention of her name, Max almost fell off his chair.

Zara? Are these guys serious?

"Dude, are you sure we're thinking about the same person?" Max had to be sure that he hadn't misheard what they had said. 

Jeremy rolled his eyes and dragged a hand through his hair.

"So I guess I do have to describe her to you—"

"That chick over there, the one with the glasses." Sebastian pointed towards the front of the room. Both guys looked at the same time.

There she was, standing in the doorway, her hair perched on her head in a messy bun, while her glasses were on the verge of falling off her nose. Her oversized hoodie seemed to swallow her petite frame whole while her purple bag resembled a turtle's shell for how packed it was. This can't be her. Yet it was Yet it was her—the only thing that had changed about her attire was the glasses. Either this was a failed attempt to disguise herself, or she was wearing contacts that night.

 His brows furrowed.

"Yeah, that's the one. Crazy how Bob got his ass kicked by a smurf."

"Don't call her that..." Max said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to Zara. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights—her rosy lips were slightly parted as she frantically looked around the room, probably looking for an empty spot.

"Say what?" Sebastian grinned, punching Max's arm, "Don't tell me you like her! I'm pretty sure she plays for the other team if you know what I mean." He chuckled and then high-fived Jeremy, who joined in on the laughter.

"Shut the fuck up Seb," Max said, dragging a hand through his hair before he leant forwards and smacked the back of his friend's head, "I don't even know her. I'm just trying to understand how she did it."

She was a thief, not a brawler. Isn't a thief's speciality to run away from trouble, not get into it? Zara must've learned how to fight during her time in foster care; par contra, it was just a punch, and Robert was most likely caught off guard.

"She punched him in the face. Right in the eye," Jeremy stated, miming a blow in the face, "It's all purple and shit now. He looks like a complete moron." He laughed again, shaking his head.

Damn, this girl has got more guts than I thought.

Max watched her cross the room and take a seat at a desk in the centre, next to a guy with red hair and a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. His name was Saffron, Max remembered his picture from his father's files. By the look on his face, Max knew that the guy was faker than a three dollar bill, except that Zara didn't seem to care. After their little conversation, he had hoped that she would stay away from the people she called 'friends.' Either she was a damn good actress, or she was an idiot.

"That's hot," Sebastian muttered, looking over at her. "If she didn't look like Ugly Betty I'd bang her."

Max shot him a glare and was about to swear at him when suddenly, a loud clap resounded across the room, interrupting his thought process. Mr. Lawrence was now standing at the front of the room, a clipboard in his hands and a grin on his face as he waited for the class to quiet down.

It was too early in the morning to be this enthusiastic.

"Good morning, students!" He said cheerily, his smile growing impossible wider despite a crabby greeting in response. "I'm assuming that everyone did their reading last night, am I right?"

A few nods.

"Excellent! Well before we get started, I shall call attendance..." As his voice drifted off into a ramble, Max crossed his arms and rested them on his desk, channelling his indignation into the daggers which his eyes threw at the infamous pair. He bristled when he saw Saffron 'subtly' pass a note to Zara with a smile, one which Max wanted to rip off his face.

She hadn't given him so much of a glance since she had walked into the room. Yet, she was perfectly aware that the two shared the same class. She had been scared shitless when he had informed her of his identity. Max forced himself to look away from the scene; it was pissing him off.

"Rubair?" Mr. Lawrence called out, making eye-contact with Max. The two shared a moment of mutual acknowledgement before the teacher resumed to roll-calling and the student returned to his brooding.

"Alright class, let's get started!" He exclaimed, flinging his clipboard onto the table. He then pulled out a stack of papers from his leather briefcase. "For those who have kept their copies of the homework list, you will know that today you shall receive your group assignments!"

A few groans ricocheted around the room, and Jeremy banged his head on the table.

"Before asking for a volunteer to pass these out, I shall briefly explain what the task will consist of—"

"Seb," Max whispered, looking straight ahead.

"What's up?"

"I need you to do something for me."

At this, Sebastian turned his head towards Max, his eyes narrowing to slits.

"I'm listening."

"Volunteer to pass out the assignment sheets. When you pass by the ginger, I want you to elbow him in the face." That will get her attention.

Sebastian's eyes widened, and he turned towards Max's victim: Saffron. He dragged his desk a fraction closer to Max's and leaned towards him, "Why? Can't you do it?"

Max rolled his eyes, opening and closing his fist, "Just do what I say, and stop wasting time."

"—and it will be done in groups of twos or threes, which I have already assigned. Now, who volunteers as a tribute?" Mr. Lawrence finished, raising the stack of papers over his head. Max cringed at the Hunger Games reference, but still managed to subtly kick Sebastian's shin. When he swore in response, Max jerked his head forwards, indicating him to follow his orders.

"I'll do it." Sebastian declared, standing up before the English teacher could pose any objections. A few people turned towards him, a startled look on their faces, but Sebastian just lumbered towards the front of the classroom, glaring at them like a tiger watching his prey. "You owe me for this," he muttered as he walked past his friend, but Max just winked in response, picking up his pen and putting it in his mouth.

Jeremy looked first at Sebastian, then at Max, raising an eyebrow.

Max brought a finger to his lips.

"Watch Seb put a bitch back in his place," Max said in a low voice, a smirk on his face.

When Sebastian reached the teacher, he rudely snatched the assignment sheets from him. "It's nice to see someone taking initiative around here," Mr. Lawrence said optimistically, ignoring his student's impertinence.

"Whatever." Sebastian turned and began distributing them, a pearly smile glued on his face.

When he reached Saffron's desk, however, that smile vanished.

Sebastian feigned a stumble, and he flung the assignment sheet at Saffron, elbowing him hard in the face. The guy squawked like a bird.

"Sorry bro, I tripped." After Sebastian recomposed himself, he pouted and mimicked a tear rolling down his cheek.

"It happens..." Saffron said feebly, his lips slightly turned downwards as he picked up his sheet from his floor and placed it on the desk.

"I know that was no accident, Anderson!" Mr. Lawrence bellowed, his eyes and finger following Sebastian as he returned to his seat.

The three boys in the corner of the room broke into a guffaw.

"Calm down, sir, it was an accident! Sebbie here must've tripped over his shoelaces." Jeremy chuckled, slapping his friend's back.

"Yeah, man," Sebastian concurred, lifting his foot onto the table to prove a point, "I keep having to tie these babies back up. They are so rowdy! Sometimes they cooperate, other times they don't. I'm telling you, they love the attention..."

"Sebastian, I think Mr. Lawrence gets the picture," Max said, the sides of his eyes crinkling in amusement, "You're all good, right Saffron? Seb didn't damage that pretty face of yours too much, I hope. It would be such a shame."

"It's fine...he's fine," Zara spoke for him, squeezing her friend's hand.

That wasn't the reaction Max was going for. She knew that he was the one behind that little charade. It should've been a reminder for her not to mess with him.

"Yeah, I'm alright guys. Don't worry about it."

Saffron turned with a grin towards Max to give him a thumbs-up. Max returned the smile and showed him the middle finger.

Ha.

Fortunately, Mr. Lawrence missed that little exchange—probably because he was too occupied in asking himself why he even bothered coming to work at times—and instead, he sighed and sat back down behind his desk. "Well, I don't want it to happen again. Sebastian, tie your shoes. You aren't ten years old anymore."

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. Well now that that problem has been taken care of, let's move on. I'll call out the names of the groups and you will each go and interact with your partner or partners. You may use the last twenty minutes of class to discuss the assignment with them, and you can work either in here or outside. Just inform me before you leave the classroom."

Max straightened, his eyes glued to the back of Zara's head. "Marcus, Jonathan, and Irene. Elena and Maria. Jeremy, Brandon..."

The names continued to roll by, the anticipation shimmering in Max's veins growing exponentially with every completed pairing. Finally, after what felt like ages, Mr. Lawrence ended the list with:

"Maximilian and Zara."

He waited for a reaction from her. Her shoulders tensed. It was so anticlimactic, Max had to close his eyes and run both hands down his face. Jeremy and Sebastian snickered, gathering up their writing utensils before they simultaneously stood up and nudged Max.

"Damn, boy. You sure are a lucky bastard—getting to be with the love of your life and shit." Jeremy grinned, leaning against his desk. Max dragged a hand through his hair and pulled out the hair-tie, flicking it at his friend, who swatted it away with a chuckle.

"What did I tell you about saying stupid shit like that? Don't even go there. And you Sebastian, shouldn't be laughing. I suggest you prepare yourself for two weeks of extreme ass-kissing."

"Fuck, you're right," Sebastian sighed and rubbed his eye with a fist. He took a few steps backwards, "Shouldn't have made me do that! Now I'll have to do some work, otherwise, the baby will squeal."

He shook his head before he turned on his heel and jogged to the other side of the room.

"Speak of the devil," Jeremy said in a low voice when he saw Zara approaching. He wiggled his eyebrows and jumped off his desk, raising a hand. "Have fun, homie."

Then, he too walked away.

A moment later, Zara was standing before him, her posture stiff and her mouth set in a thin line. Max looked up at her, returning her grim expression. He made no move to stand up from his seat. "So..." He started awkwardly, unsure whether Zara had seen through the 'coincidental' pairing or not.

He was furious with her. Not only was she blind to Saffron's amateurish attempt at flirting, but she had also felt pity for him. It was the Roman and Jasmine scene all over again, but this time, Max wasn't going to lose her attention that easily.

"Why did you do it?" Zara whispered accusingly, bringing her notebook up to her face.

"Excuse me?"

"Why did you make him do it?" Zara said again, lowering the notebook.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Max stood up from his seat and brushed past her, avoiding the question. Zara trailed after him like a lost puppy, unable to keep up with his long strides.

"I think you do. One does not simply trip on thin air."

Max ignored her and refrained from punching a hole in the wall by scratching his jawline.

"Can we go outside?" Max asked the English teacher when he reached his desk, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up when he felt Zara's presence beside him. I need to find out what game she's playing. She's acting too clueless for my taste.

Mr. Lawrence looked up from his laptop screen without lifting his hands from the keyboard. He looked first at Max, then at Zara, then back at Max. "I'd prefer that you remain in the classroom," he stated, looking back down, "There's enough space here for —"

He didn't finish his sentence that Max was already storming back to his spot at the back of the classroom, kicking the chair out and dropping his body onto it.

"I'm sorry," Zara muttered, slipping back into her seat.

Max's emerald eyes made contact with hers. "What for?"

"F-for falsely accusing you of—"

"Don't worry, I'm over it."

Zara's eyelashes fluttered, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. She delicately placed her books on the table, a blush creeping up her neck.

"Uh, Zara?" When she lifted her head, Max pointed to his hair, then to hers, "Your bun...it's kind of falling."

Zara raised her hands and patted her head, an 'oh' escaping her lips as she untied it and allowed it to tumbled over her shoulders. Max's mouth went dry for a moment, but he immediately recovered and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

Oh God, what's happening to me?

"All good?" he asked once she had tied it back into a high ponytail.

She nodded, her lips curling into a small smile.

"So I think we should start discussing this assignment," she said after a long pause, "Were you here yesterday when they started reading Macbeth? Because I wasn't."

"Me...neither. Had a bastard of a headache yesterday," He chuckled, feeling his confidence slowly return to him—he had lost it when she smiled, "must be a virus going around or something."

"Yeah, it's crazy. I'm not usually the type to get sick!"

It was all just a facade she was putting up, just to mess with his head. Or maybe he was the one that wasn't playing along like he should've been.

"You don't remember anything?"


"What do you mean?"

Now it was her turn to play dumb.

"Saturday night. Does it ring a bell?"

Zara's eyebrows scrunched up together in thought, "Nope. Why, did something happen?" Max's mouth opened and closed. He really didn't know what to say.

"Alright, cut the shit, " Max leant forwards so that he was just a foot away from her, "have you found what I asked for, or not?"

Zara's eyes widened. "What?"

Max slammed a fist down onto the table.

Several pupils looked up from their spots around the room, but no one dared breathe a word.

"Maximilian, is something wrong?" Mr. Lawrence asked, from his spot at the front of the room, but to Max, his words meant nothing.

All she did was spew lies. Lies upon lies. Maybe she was guilty after all, even if the photos didn't prove it.

Zara jolted away from him with a whimper, "I don't remember Max...I'm sorry...I—"

"Do you think this is a game? How can you not remember something that happened only a few days ago?"

"I don't know Max...that's what I asked myself as well..." Her eyes grew watery and she sniffled.

Max reached out and lifted her chin up, his eyes darting back and forth as he inspected her face. She wasn't faking this, but at the same time it was too unrealistic to be true. Maybe he had been too aggressive with his interrogation. She could be brain damaged.

"Don't cry," Max said, trying to keep the harshness out of his voice.

She trembled under his touch.

Max stood up, taking Zara's hand in his to help her up to her feet.

He had to get to the bottom of his. Max was about to pull her out of the classroom, when suddenly...

The bell rang.

Jeremy and Sebastian were in front of him, blocking Zara and Saffron from his view. They were talking to him and laughing, but nothing they said seemed to reach him—he was stuck in his own world. Saffron chatted animatedly while holding Zara's backpack open, his gaze following her motions as she lifted her books from the table and dropped them into the bag.

What the fuck is going on? 

-:-