Mate I Think NO!

Chapter 7-Forced into Fate?

Dedicated to TheNinjaSmurf because that name is awesome :)

============================================================

Chapter 7

After spending all weekend crying and trying to not let it show in front of mom, it was finally over. This means I will have to face school and Dylan, and worst of all Rodney. Well might as well get it over with. Just then Sarah appeared. “Ah!” I screeched. She said she was sorry to scare me but she waited all weekend to give me some space and privacy.

“Let me help you get ready this morning, ok?” she asked. But it felt more like a command.

 “Sure” like I cared I just wanted to get the torture over with. She fawned over me until it was time for me to leave. “Sarah I got to get to school. You are making me late.” I told her.

“You look breathtaking, Tiffany,” she exclaimed.

“Whatever,” was my brilliant reply. As I walked to school it was like I could feel something coming, like something had changed. Feeling like a zombie I just walked into my first class and sit down in the first seat I found.

“Hey,” I heard someone say. I look up and it was a guy, a different guy. He was about 6’5” with light blond hair and hazel eyes that bordered on green.

“Hey,” I said back to him.

“Your name is Tiffany, right?”

“Yeah it is,” ah another clever reply from me.

“Would you do me the great honor of sitting with me at lunch today?” he asked.

“I don’t even know you.” I said.

“I’m Brock!” He said excitedly. Like I should already know this.

“Why not,” I told him.

“Fushizle,” he yelled. That was a bad impression of a rapper if I ever heard it.

I didn’t really think too much about his invitation until lunchtime came. I thought about just trying to find a quiet corner to cry in. Just about that time he was running down the hall in my direction. Crap! There will be no escape then.

“Tiffany! Wait up!” he caught up to me then. Even running all the way down the hall he wasn’t breathing hard or anything. We walked in silence to the cafeteria. We got our food and I followed him to the table. He really was something to look at from the front or back.

“Brock over here,” I heard a familiar voice say. Please don’t belong to who I think so. We sat down at the table with Dylan, Cynthia, and other beautiful people.

“Well Brock how did you score such a sizzling lunch date?” Dylan asked Brock in an almost resentful tone. This made Cynthia glare at me. If looks could kill I would be 9 feet under the dirt. Instead of just the mere 6 feet.