Frankly My Dear, All's Fair in Love and War

2. Deceptions and Debaucheries

But with Desmond, it was all a whole different matter.

First of all, he was real. He was a living, existing human being, and he existed particularly excessively at school, the place where she spent most of her time. Knocking into him at the hallways, seeing him at the school cafeterias, having him in her class, his presence was everywhere.

But the worst part was noticing the way he deliberately not looking at her every time their path crossed. He did say that nothing happened between them that night, and the whole school sure did believe him. Everyone thought that Desmond Arrington cheated on the redheaded soccer girl, a pretty hot chick with defined abs and calves. Nobody knew about the incident between him and Cassie in August' Mother's room, nobody even noticed that she had been in the party. Even August had stopped talking to her.

Of course, for her own sake, Cassie tried her utmost to forget it. But it didn't seem that Desmond had done his part well.

It was the only thing that kept her going. That he still held on to that night, that he still hadn't forgotten her, that he still, if possible, maintained the previous desires he'd had for her.

With every new day, her hopes came up, and at the end of the day, her hopes were crushed into minuscule of pieces by the iron feet of Desmond Arrington.

Yes, he was that much of a monster.

After a full two weeks of that routine, Cassie felt almost numb. She knew that she was beyond stupid to let this thing bothered her this much, but her heart wasn't in her grasp anymore. She even went against her own policies and started downloading rock metal songs to ease her mind.

And it did, in a way.

It gave her a new hobby, though, and it was writing dark lifeless poems. And that was what she was scribbling about at History Class when all of a sudden; Mr. Flynn snatched her notebook off her hands.

"And what are you writing about, Cassandra?" Mr Flynn's high-pitched voice echoed as his eyes followed the words on the book.

Cassie looked up; she hadn't even the slightest energy to be surprised, much less embarrassed. The whole class stared at her, and strange as it may sound, she wasn't even in the slightest bit fazed by that. She looked at Mr Flynn's face, which was looking back at her in pity.

Fortunately, he didn't read the poem onto the class, and gave it back to her. "I suggest you seeing Ms. Humblewood in her office," Ms. Humblewood was the alumnus of St. Pulkeria who now worked as the student's counselor. "You can go right now."

Cassie heard whispers growing from among the students. Usually, the children that were sent to Ms. Humblewood were the troubled ones: thugs, potential dealers, would-be-whores, and in some rare cases, cheerleaders who had gone fat over the summer. There was not a single history in which a golden student such as Cassandra Bellington going to that place!

Ignoring all the developing rumors, Cassie held her head down and dragged her feet out of the class. The way to Ms. Humblewood's office was unfamiliar in Cassie's eyes. The halls were darker, some lamps were broken, and there were faint traces of graffiti all around the walls.

Well, it was expected. After all, the ones who ever bothered to come here were the bad boys and girls. Obviously it would hurt their pride if they didn't mark the places they'd been somehow.

The door that led her to the young counselor's office was even worse. It had been repainted several times more than any of the school's other doors, and Cassie could see dents and scratches on the wood. Ms. Humblewood must have made a lot of enemies.

Carefully, Cassie knocked on the door.

"Oh, is that you, Cass?" a sickly sweet voice came from behind the door. "Come on in, don't be shy."