*Michael's P.O.V.*
I was okay. I was suffering in complete agony watching this girl live the same life as every other girl in this high school, but I was fine. It just went to show that I was right. Love isn't real.
I was in the back of the school with everyone else, smoking. There were times that disgust would come across my face when I saw Pete and Heneretta, and I didn't bother to hide it. They knew how I felt, and there wasn't any changing it.
"Did you talk to (Y/N)?" Pete asked.
I took another drag. "No, there was no need to. I don't have feelings for her. I came to that conclusion. She is honestly just a Brittany wannabe."
Neither of them pressed the subject. No one really said anything after that. I finished my cigarette and lit another one, but the first drag I took my lungs rejected it, causing me to cough uncontrollably. It was a probably I would sometime face when I would cough a little bit, but this was so much worse and wouldn't go away. It got to the point that I couldn't breath.
"Oh my God. Michael, are you okay?" Heneretta asked.
I couldn't answer, though. I struggled to even stand. I could feel myself losing air, so I lowered myself to the ground to avoid falling to it.
"Pete, go get someone," Heneretta demanded, as she made her way over to me.
*Your P.O.V.*
Class was just dismissed when teachers blocked us from going out into the hallway.
"What's going on?" Bebe asked.
"My dad told me that the ambulance was dispatched to the school," Red commented it.
"Oh who do you think it is?" Wendy questioned.
"He said he was coming here to get a tall kid with curly hair. They were having breathing problems," Red added,
"How do you know?" I narrowed my eyes.
"He's on the EMT," she replied with attitude like usual.
Michael? Where are you? Please be okay...