Picture Perfect ✔️ [Slowly Editing]

18:"You. Me. Homecoming on Saturday."

After the bell rang, I put my notes in my bag, rummaging through it on top of my desk. "Hey,"

I turn around to find Lance way too close for comfort, smirking at me. I didn't have to look up at him, in fact, I had to look down because he was so short.

I ignore him, turning back to my bag.

He places a hand on my desk and rests his weight on it, looking at me "sexily". In reality, he looked constipated and drunk.

Maybe he was high.

"So... Homecoming is this weekend. There's a big game, and I'm on the football team, which automatically makes me like, a million times hotter. So, what do you say? Go to Homecoming with me?" He attempted to smirk, but it just came off too forced. He looked like a child predator.

"No. No no no. No." I visibly cringe, trying to get away from him. Pulling my bag over my shoulder, I begin to walk off, but Lance grabs my wrist hard, pushing me into a desk. "Dude, back off!" I exclaim, my eyebrows knit together in anger.

When would this dude realize he's gonna get into serious trouble one of these days because of how constant he is?

"You're going with me. Sorry, kitty." He whispered groggily in my ear. He began to approach me, pushing me into the desk.

"Get off of me," I grunted, pushing my knee into his crotch. Lance doubled over in pain, but recovered rather quickly and grabbed at me again.

Tears brimmed my eyes as I hit the edge of Mrs Russo's desk with my hip. Pain seared through my side, causing me to cry out. "Shut up." Lance sneered, covering my body with his.

I cover my mouth with my hand as he attempted to plunge down on them. I reached around Mrs Russo's desk for something - anything - to harm him with. My hand found something cold and hard. I pick it up and hit Lance over the head with it. He immediately falls to the ground, unconscious. In terror, I look to see what's in my hand.

A stapler.

I just hit Lance with a stapler and knocked him out cold. Running out of the classroom crying, I run for a teacher. I find no one, so I go to the Principal's office. "Mr Matherly, Lance." I say, crying, as I open his office door. In a chair in front of his desk, along with Mr Matherly himself, was Brody.

They both jump up. Brody takes in my appearance - which I'm sure isn't too nice - and rushes over to me. "What happened?" He asked coldly.

"H-He came onto me, pressed me up against a desk... I hit him w-with a st-stapler. I'm so sorry. Please. Help." I sobbed. Mr Matherly ran to Mrs Russo's classroom, but I stood still, crying loudly.

Brody slowly tries to wrap his arms around me, but I shove his hands away. "No. I'm not doing this." I hiccupped, wiping a tear off of my chin.

"Doing what?"

"I'm not going to come running back to you like everyone else does. And where the hell were you?! You were supposed to protect me! You were supposed to save me! And be my hero! But no, no you bailed. You left me. And about yesterday, I apologized! I said sorry, yet you were petty and cold-hearted and just turned on me. So no, I won't accept your hugs. Don't hug me. Don't hold my hand. Don't act all sweet, because that's all it is - an act." The entire time I was speaking, my voice became weaker, and I felt worse with each word.