Ah lunch, a time for people to congregate in one miserable hall and enjoy rotten food.

Yes, I have friends to sit next to, but more importantly, what idiotic fuck decided diarrhoea was edible? For the sake of your stomach, I won't go into the specifics here, but that wasn't an overstatement when it comes to the food.

Sandwiches are some sort of golden standard around here for anyone who eats canteen food.

This place in its totality is terrifying if you think of it, forget the food. The canteen ladies look like psychopaths who would use your meat for their so-called burgers, and that's already enough or put someone off coming here.

But that's not all, I always refrain from sitting anywhere close to the walls with the fear that a spider will crawl out of one of its holes and plant its sack of baby spiders in your lunch. It's truly an arachnophobe's worst nightmare. They do clean this place, but it's an irrational fear that I can't shake, especially with those many holes in the wall. Worst of all those holes were intentional.

Who the hell does interior designing and goes, ''yeah, you know what I would really dig? Having some holes in the wall, let's put some fucking holes in the wall. It'll minimise on the amount of wall we actually have to pay for too."?

Lastly, there's the fact that this a prime time for someone to decide they want to make me miserable thanks to the lack of adult supervision. All the staff avoid this place like the plague, choosing to retire to their marginally better equipped staff room with their functional coffee machine.

Can you blame them though? I would ditch this place for a room with no holes in the walls.

I mean, the cafeteria isn't that bad, we have tables and chairs. We may be a school of rich brats, delinquents, and idiots, but we're not savages.

Lo and behold, my beloved school.

Alright, enough about my anxiety inducing surroundings. I've got my wraps, and I'm sitting with the group. My best friend, Rita, isn't here so I remained largely quiet.

Until Axel, sitting opposite me, intentionally pours an obnoxious amount of ketchup on top his chips, while staring me dead in the eye. What's worse is he then starts eating them with his hands, making me cringe with each ketchup lathered fry.

"Mm," he moans. "Oh my god, unh, this is so good. Holy-"

"Dude, shut up, this isn't a bloody porno," I snap. "You look disgusting and disgraceful. You were raised better than this."

He smirks at me, having gotten the reaction he wanted, and raises a finger full of ketchup to his mouth and sucks it off. "Periods ain't nothing but the end of a sentence, baby," he coos.

I gag and shoot up to get some water, assuming that at least the bottled water is drinkable. Speeding away from the table, I hear Axel laugh from behind me. I fumble for some coins in my pocket, walking towards the cashier.

And for the second time that day, I collide into someone. Except it wasn't my fault this time, and the collision was deliberate. I sigh as the "spaghetti" slides off my clean hoodie.

You look like Carrie impersonated. Minus the awesome telekinesis powers.

Ready to punch this child, I fix my glasses and look up, "Real classy, Mandy. Real. Classy. I can't wait to see what your next endeavours in the 'make Ashley miserable show' will be."

"Aw, have I upset you babes?" She asks in mock concern, pouting a perfectly shaped lip with perfectly applied lipstick, and arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Damnit. Why can't she look like the Wicked Queen from Snow White post the make-a-hot-woman-a-hag potion?

I just glare at her; my self-control being tested to the limit. Just you wait, one day karma's going to get you good, you little brat. I've killed her approximately three times in my head, though no sound escapes my mouth.

"Ha, thought so," she sneers as she turns to her little wannabes, moving to leave.

I clench my jaw as she begins to saunter away from me and, without thinking,

wait for it,

slam my boot into her stilettos.

Holy shit, that was cooler than telekinesis.

Her scream resonates throughout the whole cafeteria. Scratch that, the whole flipping school.

She limps and turns around like as if she's just been shot, her perfect face contorted into absolute horror. "These are Prada, you bitch!" She shrieks, and I smirk.

The devil wears Prada, how fitting.

I come closer to her, "Next time you'll know expensive shoes don't mean you're on a higher level to me, you narcissistic whore." I wasn't loud, but the place was so silent, you could've heard a pin drop. An overused, but accurate, metaphor.

Holy shit. This has got to be the first time you've stood up to her in... ages. Go big or go home. Or you know, expensive.

The look on her face is priceless, I don't care if she gets one of her lackeys to beat me up later, I win this one.

A laugh pierces through the deadly silence, causing heads to turn to the noise. I lean to the right to see past Mandy and see another narcissist. Mandy herself looks absolutely furious at his presence. I wave at him for no other apparent reason but to piss Mandy off.

The laughter continues, coupled with some unusually pleasant-sounding snorts, and then clapping. As he walks to us, the applause continues. When he reaches us, he declares, "That, that was some of the most dramatic shit I've seen in ages."

Mandy's eyes narrow at him, while I look on in confusion. Since when is he part of the drama?

"Seriously, did you lift that off a soap opera? What even was that?" He continues to cackle, hands on his stomach.

I furrow my brow, dramatic times, dramatic measures? When you're dealing with a drama queen, I don't think anything that ensues could be subtle.

"I mean, throwing lunch on the unsuspecting Nerd? So clichéd. But wow, then she really presented something new." He gestures to Mandy incredulously, "Look at Mandy, you got her where it hurts most, the heel! Genius!"

Ugh, he had to go and call us a Nerd. Even Mandy knows our name.

And there goes any nice perception of him. I roll my eyes; I didn't ask for a critic. What makes this guy think he's entitled to my attention? Turning around I give the canteen lady my coins and get my water. There really isn't any point in staying here, not anymore. I turn on my heel and storm out the cafeteria, entirely unimpressed.

Looking down, I groan in annoyance. That was my favourite hoodie. My inner voice starts whining too,

Your favourite hoodie out of a solid five. Those five being half of your entire wardrobe. Go to the bathroom and cry.

I roll my eyes, it's not like I wouldn't be able to clean this up, right? Why is my conscience so goddamn dramatic?

"Nerd," his voice calls from behind me. I groan, what more does this guy want? I've got nothing, and after this morning I don't see why our paths are continually crossing.

Nope, I'm not answering, I don't need him breathing down my back every minute.

"Ner-"

"What do you want," I snap. He stares at me, "I haven't got all day, spit it out."

"Um, well, do you want to borrow one of my spare shirts?"

I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what kind of sick joke he's playing. Is he bipolar?

"No, thank you, I'll be fine."

He scratches the back of his head in confusion, "Are you sure? It doesn't really look like it to be honest."

Why is he the one that's confused, this is more male attention you've gotten for months, maybe years. Wait, probably your whole life.

Hello, I'm friends with CJ and Axel, and I know a bunch of other guys. I think.

We both know that's not what I meant. And we both know you never go out, what other guys do you know?

"Um, Nerd?"

I blink, "Ashley, my name is Ashley. Don't call me Nerd."

"Sorry, I- uh- actually didn't know your name."

Well that's embarrassing, to say the least.

I scrunch up my nose, uncomfortable and confused to no extent. Why is he talking to me?

"Well? Are you going to take my shirt?"

So, the notorious bad boy is being nice. Tell me I'm not the only one who finds that shady, it is.

Am I next on his hit list? And when I say hit... you get what I mean.

No, you dumbass, you look like a fucking mess and he's just trying to help. Take the goddamn shirt and be done with it.

I groan internally, I don't want to. I don't want to have to owe him for helping me or anything. Hell, I don't even want to be here right now.

Take the bloody shirt Ashley.

"Yes, I'm sure, I'll be fine without your shirt, thanks. Bye," and I beeline the hell out of there, irritated.

I hear him make a noise behind me, almost like he started to say something but then decided to not say it in the middle of saying it.

Way to be confusing. For the smartest person in the grade, you're a real fucking idiot. Why are we stuck in the same body, I can't handle you?

If I could slap myself in the head and get this voice to shut up, I would do it without a second thought.

You never think anyways, what is your point?

I let out a groan that is halfway there to be an eardrum bursting screech and begin pulling at the hairs on my head in anger. I don't even bother to check whether Ethan is still behind me, he'd be undoubtedly wondering why I'm not in a mental asylum if he is. I can't even get a break from myself, let alone anything else.

God, I hate my life.