Ten minutes. I stared at that world-ending picture for a total of ten fucking minutes.

I didn't dare screenshot, didn't show the Barbie's that I had any interest in the matter. Every time my phone began to fall asleep I'd tap the screen again, hoping against everything that it would refresh into someone's else's face, trying to convince myself this was some awful dream.

It had to be.

It wasn't.

I felt more stunned than anything else, the moment feeling oddly surreal. Was I entirely sure this wasn't just some fucked up dream?

Part of me simmered below the underlying shock, the unresolved anger at Xander still there, always there. I'd been so upset at what he'd did that I'd ignored him for weeks, refusing to have anything do with him. The first week it was easy, spring break had been my shield from him, my excuse to keep him away. While he'd still lived next door, I'd become adept at avoiding him, at avoiding anyone.

I'd always wondered how easy it was for him to burn the bridge between us as he packed up and left. Had he ever felt for me what I felt for him? Had I been as disposable as so many others before me? His betrayal had left me with burning questions, his actions rubbing salt onto my still open wounds.

After everything that we had done for each other, after all the times he'd stood by me and held me in my moments of weakness, he'd thrown in all away. I was originally in denial, my mind refusing to believe what was right in front of my eyes, but I couldn't escape the way my friends constantly ground at me that he had been horrible for doing it, that I should never let myself near him again. I'd heeded their words and kept away, putting walls around my shattered heart.

I didn't know which thought was worse. That he'd never really loved me, or he had, but his feelings had abated over time as he'd begun to tire of me.

Xander was nothing but a boy to which I had too many strings with. Once attached, but long since cut off. All I saw was the empty promises  and him leaving, staring at me from where I stood on my front porch, our eyes meeting as he slipped into the car and drove off with his family. His face was filled with something akin to pity, but I looked away before I could think too much of it.

He'd thrown away what he had and didn't look back.

Yes, I felt absolutely irate, but there was no denying the presence of another emotion. One of...anxiety. While all that he'd done upset me, I still remembered the happy memories we'd shared before. No matter what, what he'd done couldn't seem to eclipse those, and that made me weak and pathetic. A type of vulnerable I was sick of being.

What was he doing back here anyway?

Him and his family had made their new life in Florida, they'd gotten their happy fresh start. From what I'd heard and seen, Xander's dad was doing well in business, and they'd been well off ever since it picked up. What could possibly encourage them to come back?

I let out a sound of frustration as I tossed my phone onto the bed, holding back the urge to throw it against my wall with all of my strength. I'd yet to see any trace of Xander so far in person, and as long as it stayed that way I was fine.

I wanted to hope they were only here for a reasonable visit, a quick and short trip before they'd be heading back to their lives in Florida.

But deep in my gut I knew that it wasn't going to be that easy. It never was.

***

Mondays are shit. Fucking awful. Absolutely horrible.

I groan as I slam my hand down on my alarm to turn it off, burying my head in my pillow and curl under my sheets, planning to sleep for about fifteen more minutes as I contemplate whether I'll be going to school or not.

It was usually at this point in the morning that my brother walked into my room, shaking me awake and telling me to get ready, threatening to leave me to walk if I wasn't downstairs in time for him to drive me.

But for several reasons, it's no longer the case for me. Mom is always up early in the weekdays so she can get home earlier and attempt to spend some time with me. And besides, she doesn't care if I actually go to that hellhole anyways. It's not that she doesn't care about my education, she does, but my situation with the school and the agreement I hold with my uncle is one she's always found odd and unnecessary.

But I still hold the agreement with my uncle regardless, and part of the deal is actually attending when I'm supposed to. While on paper, I don't technically go to that school anymore, my uncle (the principal incase you've forgotten) would not hesitate to enforce their rules onto me, providing detentions and suspensions when necessary. Whether it was official or not, I went to that school and that was that.

Eventually, I did somehow manage to drag my lazy ass out of bed, falling to the floor when my foot got tangled in the comforters I'd been too dazed to notice. I groaned in pain as I lugged myself up, rubbing my eyes as I yawned.

I wasn't anywhere near awake after having spent last night binge watching Netflix once I came home from spending time with a few friends at an ice cream parlor.

To my relief, Xander's appearance on the Barbies' story had been seldom brought up, as if everyone had already told each other not to mention it out of respect for me. While it did come up in conversation once, and I was sure at least a few people were having side conversations about it, I convinced them I wasn't affected by it. They'd tried to keep the real events to our inner circle, and no one attempted to talk about what he'd done openly, no longer able to remember who knew and who didn't.

I groaned as I thought about it. The Snapchat story's odd caption was definitely going to raise some brows when it came to the last line. Rumors were bound to be flying just as much as anything else those plastic teenage girls had decided to put up.

I shook my head at it all, putting it aside, setting my priorities straight. I needed to hurry up if I wanted to avoid being late. I curse as I take a glance at the clock. I took a nap for too long and I'll have to rush through my regular routine if I want to avoid the detention.

I grab a pair of jeans from off the floor, figuring they're not that dirty if I've yet to put them away properly. I've only got them up to my knees as I waddle to my connected bathroom, doing an odd dance with too many hops before I finally to raise them to my hips.

I momentarily disregard the button and zipper as I scrounge around for a brush and a hair tie, putting my face away before I quickly wash my face and rub at it with a towel. I move on to find a toothbrush right afterwards, desperate to rid of my morning breath.

I plug my hair straightener into a plug, turning it on before running back into my room in search of a good shirt as it heats up. I don't bother with any hair products to keep my locks from frying, probably a bad choice on my part. But I simply don't have time to go through details. I half ass my way through the straightening process, producing a semi decent look in around ten minutes, which is a hell of a lot quicker than the time it would usually take.

I grab some socks from my drawer even though I notice that they don't match as I slip them on, not caring as I take the steps three at a time and jump past the last five before running into my kitchen in search of food. I quickly eat my cereal while simultaneously making sure I don't ruin my outfit and have to go back up and scrounge for a different set of clothes.

By the time I've considered myself finish, I'm at the regular time I'd start my way out the door, but pause for a breather as I stand in front of a mirror for a small assessment to make sure I don't look absolutely ridiculous.

I ran a hand through my still partially wavy hair, trying to make it look better than how it actually does. I look a little crazed, as if I haven't touched a brush in ages, but I quickly run my hands through my strands in an awful attempt to remedy the problem. I sigh when it barely does anything, but I really don't mind that much anyhow.

I frown as I look at my dark circles, prodding at the skin around it. They're a little too obvious for my liking, and I hadn't the time for make up today. It doesn't matter much, I suppose, because I quite frankly don't give a shit. Yeah, it's not to pleasant to look at, but it's not lol I'm trying to impress anybody.

My lips are a little chapped, but I haven't got the slightest clue where my chapstick is and I don't feel like digging through my stuff for carmex or vaseline. I lick my lips even though I'm well aware it won't do much, holding back from the urge to pick at the half dead skin.

Moving down past my face, I do a quick overview of today's outfit. I threw on a cropped Calvin Klein shirt with blue, ripped jeans I was positive I'd worn just two days ago. But I'd probably keep wearing them until I spilled something on them that's noticeable.

I grabbed a pair of white adidas, which thankfully rose high enough to hide my mismatched socks. I considered for a moment grabbing a different pair. Nothing I had that was white ever stayed clean for long, especially after dealing with the trials of high school. And while I'd love to preserve my expensive shoes, I didn't have the time to look for something more suitable.

All in all, I don't look like total shit, which is a success in my book.

I quickly grab my mug of coffee - my mother had thoughtfully made a pot before she left - and hurriedly slung my backpack over my shoulder with all the homework I'd had someone else do for me, grabbing my keys from a hook and locking the front door behind me.

When I'm outside, I see Chase standing by his own car, just about to open his door and step in. When he notices me, he immediately stops what he's doing and jogs over, leaving the car door open. I'm not sure for what reason, since after all, I'll be seeing him ten minutes from now at school. But I don't comment on it (I doubt I really have he energy to) and stand somewhere in the middle of my driveway, not quite to my car as I wait for him to reach me.

His bright blue eyes wander over my person once he's within three feet of me, though I know it's more judgmental than sexual. I roll my eyes and take a sip from my much needed coffee, waiting for Chase to say something first.

"Hey, you look tired."

I groan.

Thanks, Chase. I'm sure that's what every girl wants to hear when they just woke up.

Granted, I woke up around thirty minutes ago, but it's still too early for this shit.

I wrinkle my nose at the almost-insult. It's not nice to look tired, everyone knows that. It implies dark circles and bad posture and crappy attitude—not that I have any less attitude when I'm not tired—and is just overall... bleck.

Chase's eyes narrow in on the wrinkle of my nose, which had always been a tell for me whenever I wasn't paying attention. It was a habit I'd had since childhood, something the boys used in order to know when I was bothered or thinking hard without having to ask me. I could immediately tell that he understood what had bothered me, but he only smirked at the thought.

"Gee thanks," I say, a little bitter. I cover my mouth as a yawn came on, shaking my head and blinking a few times to fend off my sleepiness. Chase isn't wrong; I'm pretty tired right now and the coffee isn't kicking in yet, but it's not like he had to point that out.

"Sorry, just telling an observation." I glare at him, wanting to smack that stupid smirk that's always on his face. I don't respond, ignoring him as I take another sip of my coffee. If me standing there and staring at him off puts him, Chase doesn't say anything, picking up the conversation in stride. "Want a ride?"

I don't know why he's offering, but it seems to come from the same place he decided to walk over here for. I've done nothing to illicit a favor, and while this is something we would've done years ago, it's not the same now.

Something in my thought process strikes me with intrigue, making me hesitate as I begin to lose myself in thought, the gears in my mind turning to think it all out. The way Chase has been acting lately, it's the same way he would've acted back before he'd left. He's picked up right where we left off, but I can't do the same thing. It's not that easy for me.

I stop myself before I can get too distracted, keeping in mind that standing here and staring will make him uncomfortable. I want to ask something, but I'm not sure how to phrase it. Something about us and him leaving and us friends again. But what question would I ask? Where would I even begin?

I go back to the topic at hand before I can slip into my thoughts too deeply. I'm sure as hell not about to turn down a free ride. It's the perfect opportunity to nap an extra ten minutes added onto this morning's fifteen. "Yes please," I say, already heading to his car before he can fully process my answer.

I slide into the passenger seat without looking back, already adjusting it to my preferences as I throw my backpack into the backseat. I buckle my seat belt and cradle my precious caffeine into my chest as Chase slides in moments after. I want to make some type of witty remark like "what took you so long?" But I'm too tired to offer up unnecessary banter. I guzzle down more coffee before I slide it into the cup holder between us.

Despite the caffeine that's just recently entered my system, I curl up a little and get myself comfortable, eyes fluttering shut without a problem. As a kid, I always slept in the car so easily. I'd often fallen asleep in the middle of conversations, or even on short car rides. My family used to tease me all the time, but I found it a blessing.

"Well just go ahead and make yourself at home," Chase comments sarcastically as he starts up the engine, amusement lacing his tone.

"One, you live like twenty feet away; It's practically still my home. Two, this is a car. Three, shut the hell up." I roll my eyes under closed lids as I slip into a restful state, using my last waking moments to mutter further of my argument. "And besides, you made yourself comfortable at my house, it's only fair I return the favor."

"Touché." He turns on the radio, lowering the volume out of thought for me. He thinks it's a little ridiculous how easily I fall asleep, but he respects it and does little things he thinks I don't notice to accommodate me. Almost like old times.

He leaves me be for a few minutes, until he whispers, "Why are you taking a nap?"

I want to lift my head and glare at him for disrupting me, but I'm a bit too gone to bother. "Sshhh," I say, my voice coming out lightly, "Just let me nap in peace."

Chase mumbles something inaudible, and I'm sure it's something about me being weird. But he leaves me alone nonetheless, and that's all I asked for.

***

"Bianca." The calling of my name is followed by an obnoxious poke to my shoulder that makes me groan. I swat away at the source haphazardly, still wrapped up in my cocoon of sleep.

"Fuck off," I growl, more moodily than I'd expected it to be. I didn't bother to correct my tone before I curled back up, wanting more than the ten minutes I'd had. "Circle around the block or something." I can already tell Chase won't do that, but I had to try.

"Bianca." He poked my ribs next, making my body jerk in surprise. I frown and clutch my side while he lets out a chuckle at my irritation. I try to hit him without looking, but it lands weakly on his arm before I go back to sleeping. "Bianca." His voice is a little more urgent now, poking me in the cheek. "Bianca Veronica White. Please get out of my damn car."

"Screw off," I retorted, even though my eyes slowly fluttered open, squinting to see Chase in the seat next to me.

"Bianca," Chase repeated. I'd lost track of how many times he'd said my name trying to get me to wake up. Couldn't he see it was ineffective? Just chill out, dude and let a girl sleep. "We're at school. You need to get out of my car and go to said school." He gives me an odd look after he says it, almost as if he was expecting me to obey like some lap dog and immediately launch myself out of this car.

I offered a false smile. "Sure thing," I said through a yawn, stretching out my body the way I would if I were actually planning to wake up. It was leading him to false hope that I'd been getting out any time soon.

"For fucks sake, Bianca, you better not be getting ready to take another nap." The tone of his voice makes it seem like he's losing patience with me, but I know for a fact he's just a little frustrated. He's known me for ages, and he's dealt with far worse from me. This is nothing. "Bianca, I know this trick. You better be getting out for real."

I ignore him, stretching out a little more before I let out a sigh of content and curl back up.

He is having none of my bullshit.

Chade continues on by proving that chivalry truly is dead, grabbing my by the shoulders as he violently shook my entire body. I let out a small shriek of annoyance, almost positive I'd received whiplash from his actions.

My body immediately reached out to hit him,
My hands flying at his arms, and chest, whatever was in my reach while I slumped in my seat. "Chase!" I exclaimed, glaring daggers at the blue eyed boy beside me.

He leaned back into his own seat, away from my small fists. I made no move to get closer and resume my attack, still a little hazy from my sleep. "Good, your awake," he murmured as he turned the engine off.

He looked at me and smiled innocently, like he hadn't just disturbed me and made himself high up on my hit list. I frown at him further, not appreciating the way he enjoyed how bothered I was. The boys had always enjoyed making my life hell when we were younger, and I suppose part of Chade hadn't quite grown out of it.

The asshat takes enjoyment in my suffering.

Fucking sadist.

Chade suddenly drops the smile, replacing it with a flat look, one that still oddly holds hints of amusement. He point to car door I'm currently curled up against, and I can already tell what he's going to say before it slips out of his mouth. "Now get out."

I pout at him, choosing to be difficult for the trouble he's been this morning. I reach a leg up to lick at him, something a child in a tantrum would do. I let out a sound of frustration when he easily caught my ankle, his fingers wrapping around it to keep it there. He looks at me challengingly, that ever present smirk on his face. I try and tug my leg free, but his grip his firmer and stronger than I am, and with the limited space in the car, I don't have much options.

He's won this fight and he knows it.

I unbuckle, my nonverbal cue of surrender. "All right, fine," I grumble, pulling my leg again. This time Chase gives way, returning my limb to my control. I ignore the satisfied look of his face from the small victory, already salty about coming to school in the first place.

I huff as I open the car door angrily, stepping onto the asphalt with a look on my face like I'm Sharpay Evans and someone's just stolen all my Star Dazzle Awards. I slam the door behind me harshly.

The sound from the action is what I'm assuming catches several students' attention, heads snapping over to me in surprise. They know this isn't my car, and it's not any of my friends' cars either. The way they whisper about it as they linger or head in is loud enough for me to get the gist of their conversations.

"Who is she with?"

"Walk of shame?"

"She doesn't do walks of shame, she isn't ashamed of who she lays."

"Is it some new person to their group?"

I ignored their whispers as best I could, used to their voices constantly saying my name, referring to me and my choices and my life. The people in this school didn't ever seem to have lives of their own.

I swear I could hear gasps when Chase finally stepped out of the car, and I leaned back against the metal to take it all in. He slides out of the car as if he's in an Abercrombie commercial, and I'm hardly surprised when one girl grabs her phone to point its camera in his direction. Ray Bans have been slipped on as he suavely closes his door in a a far calmer manner than the way I'd done it.

He pauses to open the back door to grab my backpack and his own, walking over to my side and gently handing it over. "Why's everybody looking at us like we're part of the circus?" He shifted, looking uncomfortable under all the attention.

"Probably because of your stupid face," I retort playfully, tapping my nail against the rim of his Ray Bans. "Those sunglasses are useless, there's barely even any sun." I think we both know it's not about his sunglasses, but I'd rather not talk about the real reason.

He lowers the glasses to the bridge of his nose, looking at me through his lashes and raising one dark brow. "It's plenty bright out. They're just looking because I'm hotter than the sun, princess."

The sudden appearance of the nickname surprises me for a moment, but it doesn't keep me from snorting at his antics. I thought he'd drop the nickname thing, especially one so childish.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Michaels," I murmured, smiling to myself when Chase nudged me playfully with his shoulder.

We start walking towards the school, Chase heeding my advice to take the Ray Bans off and put them somewhere safe. So far, I'm managing my crappy morning fine. I left my coffee in Chase's car and I'm too lazy to ask him to unlock the car again so I can grab it, but other than that, I should survive.

That is, until I see something that shakes the foundations of my life.

I'm officially shook.

I halt in my steps, tripping over my own feet as the sight before me sends me reeling. I don't even check to see if I've scuffed my shoes, not when the problem in front of me is more concerning.

I curse, immediately slipping behind Chase's tall figure. Did he see me? Would he even care if he did?

I tug at chase's shirt before he can keep walking, keeping him in front of me as my shield. My hands rest around his biceps, gripping a little too hard from anxiety as I slowly and timidly peek over his shoulder.

Xander Sharp is there in the flesh, standing by the front entrance, talking and catching up with a few guys from the football team. I watch as he smiles and laughs along, looking comfortable to be around the people he used to call his friends.

I'm going to die, that's it. My life's over. I'm done for.

Somebody tell my mom I love her because nothing good is going to happen from here on out.

•(edited)•
One major change: Bianca does not kiss Xander. The original version had that, but that was also created like what, a year ago? My thought process was very messy and actually having that scene was just bad.  I also noticed a lot of people stopped reading after that lol I don't blame anybody. It was a bad move on my part and now I have to be very careful with the upcoming clean ups.

And it's smaller, but I also rewrote how Bianca knew about Xander's arrival and his reaction to seeing her at the school. Originally, Xander had messaged Bianca, and two, Xander had fully expected Bianca to be there. But with the new version that doesn't make sense because Bianca completely blocked him from all social medias and Bianca doesn't technically go to school (which is a mystery explained later ;) )

Me reading the scene I wrote where Bianca and Xander kissed despite all the shit that happened and the time apart and the fact that it made zero sense:

Me looking at all the holes in my story that me from a year ago completely ignored:

Me wondering why anyone could've possibly been able to follow this story because it was a total mess: