I dreaded going to school. I have no friends, not even acquaintances. Everyone was either hating me to death or was terrified of me and I didn't understand any of them. I didn't know what was it about me that made people feel the way they did. Some of them avoided me at all cost like I had some kind of infectious disease while some looked me into the eyes with pure hatred. I just didn't get why. It was not like I was a monster or something. Oh right, that huge scar on my face. Awesome. I sighed as I felt the weight in my heart heaved.

The scar was something I got last year. Trina, a girl from my previous high school gave it to me. I was flushing the toilet bowl when I heard the sound of glass broken and people screaming. The moment I stepped out of the stall, I saw Trina slashing the huge shard of broken mirror at something in the empty space in front of her, yelling at whatever she saw to stop pestering her. I was scared cold feet. If I haven't peed a moment ago, I would definitely pee my pants. 

My only thought at the moment was to get out from there as soon as possible. But our eyes met before I could move. The next thing I knew, a sharp pain burst on my face as her high pitch scream ringed endlessly in my ears. 

That was the reason for my transfer of high schools. To have a new start in life. Besides, mum and dad were paranoid about my safety ever since, so they made this decision. Everything was nice. There were no more crazy Trinas around to bother me. Except that didn't actually eliminate my danger. Although my presence was made unknown by half of the school's population, leaving me peacefully alone, the other half were out there to get me.

A soft clicked sounded after I put in the right combination to the dial on my locker. Giving myself three seconds before swinging the door open, I braced myself for some gifts from the haters or bullies. 

Maybe it was a tradition in Ashmoure High, just like what the posters on the notice boards said: No one gets left out. So even losers like me were included in the gift receiving list. Every day, if it weren't notes about how ugly I was, it was half eaten food or candy wrappers thrown into my locker. Maybe students here didn't know the difference between a locker and a rubbish bin.

Pathetic.

I sucked in a deep breath and pulled the door open. A yellow post-it note was laying on top of my belongings.

"Hope you like surprises!" Was written in red ink, the dot of the exclamation mark was replaced with a little heart. This handwriting looked familiar.

A chill ran down my spine. The last time I had a surprise, three long, fat earthworms were making themselves at home in my pencil case. For the next two weeks, I was terrified of digging into any place that could hide worms which to me, was everywhere.

"Giselle!" A voice chirped from behind, making me gasped.

The note fell from my grasp as I jumped away from the locker. Looking up, I saw Steve. His dirty blonde hair looked tousled as if he just got out of bed. Despite that, his pale blue eyes seemed to shine with electricity against his slightly tanned skin, making him looked like he just woke up from bed like how people did in advertisements, fresh and awake, ready to kickstart the day.

He chortled.  "You looked like you've seen a ghost or something."

"I—" My breathing was suddenly difficult like there wasn't enough air in my lungs. My lungs felt like they were burning as I feed them with big gulps of air.

He put a hand on my shoulder, his smile fading away as concern filled his face. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Calm down. Just—just breath," he said, inhaling deeply before giving a long exhale. "Like this. Yeah, there you go. Feel better?"

I nodded, breathing slowly and deeply like he suggested. Like Nurse Priya suggested. A while later, my breathing slowed to a normal pace. "Erm...thanks. "

"So what scared you so badly?" he asked.

On the floor, next to the pair of blue Nike sneakers on his feet, was the note. He spotted it and picked it up before I could.

"Hope you like surprises!" he read. "Wow, there's even a heart exclamation mark! So this is what freaked you out? A secret admirer?" He laughed. "I didn't even know you have another friend, let alone a secret admirer. Uh...no offence."

I felt my ears turning warm. "None was taken."

It was the truth anyway. I didn't have anybody who enjoyed my presence, let alone secret admirers.

"So, any idea who chucked this into your locker?" he teased, handing the note back to me.

So it was confirmed. The note wasn't from Steve. An uneasy feeling crept over my shoulders once again. What kind of trouble was I in again?

"Hello? Is Giselle here?" He waved a hand right in my face. 

I took a step back. "Erm, I don't know. It's probably just a prank." I forced a smile at him.

Steve's eyes darted away from mine. For a second there, I thought I saw his body tensed up and something washed over his face. Something like uncertainty and remorse. The next second, he returned his gaze to me and flashed a warm smile. 

"Giselle, just ignore those bullies. They're not worth your time," he said, putting his hand in his hoodie's pocket. "And uh...you're not ugly, you know."

"You don't have to lie to make me feel bet—"

"Yes, I know you have a scar that's kinda obvious on your face, but still, you're not ugly like what they say. In fact"—he pulled his hand out of the pockets while holding my gaze—"in fact, I think you look really good."

I laughed. "You're a horrible liar," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I could be." He smiled. "But I seriously don't think you're ugly. So don't let them make you think that you are. "

"Thanks," I said, feeling butterflies in my stomach. "So where are we hang—"

"Steve! There you are!" A black girl called out.

Oh great, the evil squad was here. 

It was Joanna, who I assumed was the leader of this horrible little group of people. She was walking with her boyfriend—a tall, black guy who was the football star of the season—while leaning her body against his firm arm, giggling like an overly excited child as his hand moved to her buttocks. Her plump, red lips switched from smiling to frowning in a blink of an eye when she noticed me, giving my direction a sideway glance whilst twitching her narrow nose in disgust. She detached herself from her man, Evan, and crossed her arms over her ample bosoms.

"Well, well, well, look who's here trying to hit up with one of the cool kids," she mocked, her boots making crisp clicking sounds as she walked towards me. "Shameless much?"

Behind her, was the rest of the gang. A tall, towheaded guy was running his fingers through his thick hair, trying to style it into one of the latest hairstyles that were currently in trend. He grinned at me after looking up from the reflection on his phone's screen, making me shiver internally. He was Logan, The Master of One Night Stands. The only thing in his mind was sex. I didn't even know an eighteen-year-old boy can be as lewd as him. And I definitely couldn't understand how a guy like him was still so well liked by everybody.

Standing beside him, was Nicki, a redhead who was staring at me, unmovingly, like she was studying every cell on me. Her grey eyes lingered on the piece of note in my hand for a second or two before casting a downward glance at Evan's red sports shoes, looking at it as if there was something interesting about it.

"Oh, Joanna, give her a break," Steve said while giving me a dismissive wave.

Joanna rolled her eyes at him. "Ugh, why are you and Nicki always so nice to her? Don't you guys remember all the times she almost got us in trouble? All the time as in every two or three days?"

"Of course I remember. And so does Nicki," Steve said while pulling her away from me. "Come on, you don't want to be late—"

"So stop defending her!"

"Well, if you and your friends never bothered anyone in the first place, how am I going to get you in trouble?" I challenged, an eyebrow raised.

The second I finished, panic raised within me. That was a bad move, a horrible one to make with this group of people, especially Joanna. I didn't even know why I did that. A quick glance in the hallway told me we had an audience. Well, at least I would have a few eye witnesses if she killed me now. I swallowed hard.

"Ooh, someone got a confidence boost today," Logan said in a sing-song voice.   

Joanna's brown eyes narrowed into a slit, her hand pushing Steve's away. "Excuse me, but did you just talked back to me, scar-bitch?" she retorted, emphasising on the nickname she gave me.

"Uh...the bell's gonna ring soon. It's our senior year now, I really need that good reference letter at the end of the year to get into my dream college, so that means I can't be late," Steve said before giving Evan a look.

"Chill, Steve. Your excellent reference letter won't be going anywhere," Joanna said before shoving me into the locker.

Getting slammed against a locker was painful, but it was always bearable if the locker was closed. A nice flat surface. Unfortunately, I had an opened locker behind me and Joanna did her calculations. My left shoulder made contact with the frame of the opened locker door before my weight slammed it shut.

"Jo-jo babe, don't lose your temper on a ninny." Evan put an arm over her shoulders and started whispering into her ears.

A moment later, a bright smile appeared on Joanna's face.

"You're right, darling. Let's not waste any time on a ninny like her." She beamed at me before displaying public affection with Evans as they walked down the hallway.

After they disappeared around the corner, I let out a huge breath that I didn't even realise I was holding. With the drama ending, the crowd started to disperse, going about with their own business as they whispered about what just happened.

Sighing, I turned around and reopen my locker, but the action sent an ache to my left arm. I bit back a groan. Carefully, I massaged the sore shoulder and grimaced. When would I escape this hell?

I didn't get how things like this could go on. How could people like them just do whatever they wanted and walk away like nothing happened? It was like consequences played no role in them. And what was Steve doing with them? It baffled me that they were such close friends. He was so kind and nice, the complete opposite of Joanna and the rest of them. 

Vexed, I slammed the locker shut with my good arm. As I passed by a rubbish bin, I threw the note into the opening with forced, attempting to discard the anger in me along with the note.

I bet that sweet note was another one from Joanna and her gang. That would be what, the hundredth or something note from them? Maybe I could make a collection from all the notes they had given me since my first day of school. What have I done to ever caught their attention? I just wished they could leave me alone. If only Steve wasn't one of them.

"Hey, watch where you're going, dumbass!" an Asian girl with jet black hair yelled at me after I bumped into her.

"I'm sorry," I said.

Instead of granting me forgiveness or just walking away in annoyance, she glared at me as if I killed her whole family. I hugged the Chemistry textbook tighter in my arms. She had the deadliest stare in this entire school, I could guarantee that. Every time she stared at me like that, it felt like invisible lasers were shooting out from her eyes, cutting straight through my skin and freezing my blood.

"I really am sorry," I repeated.

"You make me sick!" she growled before walking away, her shoulder slamming into mine—the sore one—as she passed by me. 

A sharp pain screamed from my left shoulder, numbing my whole arm. I winced while pressing a hand on it, praying for the pain to go away.

What was wrong with all the people in this school?

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Despite the well-known rule in every library, the place was still as noisy as a market. The table next to me was playing Snap, screaming and slamming their hands on the deck of cards whenever there was a matching pair. Two tables down was a group of juniors chatting non-stop—their voices becoming louder as they got more and more excited—about the party they went last weekend. On the other end, was a bigger group of seniors who seemed to treat the library as their home, snacking on various tidbits and flirting with each other. The librarian, on the other hand, was so infuriated by the situation that she stomped out of here in tears half an hour ago.

"Giselle." Steve sighed after tossing his pen on the history worksheet.

"Are you angry with history homework or the noise?"

"Both. I can't decide." He chuckled briefly before letting out another sigh. "But that's not the point. I, uh...I'm sorry for this morning. About what Joanna did." 

His pale blue eyes turned soft when they landed on my left shoulder.

"Does it still hurt?" He gently put a hand on it.

I recoiled in pain and winced.

He retracted his hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I...I shouldn't have touched it. What am I thinking? That I have magic healing properties?" He laughed nervously.

"No, no, no. It's okay. I mean, I know you didn't mean to. Anyway, I wasn't expecting it to hurt so bad either, but it just gets worse as the day goes by."

"Do you need to see a doctor? I could go with you. It's my fault, after all."

"No, no more doctors, please. I had enough of them before I started school." I gave him a weak smile. "I'll be fine after tomorrow. And you don't have to apologise. It's not your fault."

"But they're my friends. If it wasn't for me, they wouldn't even find you this morning."

"Exactly. They're your friends, not you. They hurt me. Joanna did, not you. So you don't have to blame yourself, okay?" I sighed. "And it's not like they wouldn't come looking for me on purpose if they could."

"I...I'm still sorry."

This was getting awkward. Every time Steve apologised for the wrong doings of his friends, it made me wonder why he was still with them. Or why he was protecting them. The hands on the clock hanging at the beam just above the librarian's desk showed that it was five. Perfect timing for escaping this awkwardness. I stuffed my history worksheet into a yellow folder and started packing my stationeries.

"Erm...so where are we hanging out?"

His eyes darted between mine and my hands keeping my belongings.

"The note you left for me yesterday? Along with the revision cards? The invite is still effective, right?"

"Oh, that!" He clicked his fingers. "Yes, that. Of course, we're still doing that. Why wouldn't we? Just, uh, let me pack my things and we'll go."

"Okay." I smiled. Was he being nervous?

"But first, we're going to get your shoulder checked out."

"I said—"

"At least, the school's nurse." His fingers brushed mine when he took the ruler I borrowed from him. "Just to make sure it's really fine."

It hurt a little when I moved my left arm. And the pain was cutting through my bones when I proceeded to carry my bag. Bad move. Trying my best to ignore the pain, I switched hands to carry it. Maybe he was right.

"Fine," I said, smiling.

The school's nurse was shocked to see the big, red, swollen shoulder of mine she almost called my parents. She must have figured out the truth about it but decided to give in to us after our twenty minutes speech about how I slipped in the toilet stall and knocked my shoulder on the toilet seat. Yes, it was a lame excuse, but I knew if I make any further complaints on the evil squad this week, I might as well just jump off the building before they came for me.

We were walking to the parking lot together. The place was deserted since it was after school hours. The only place with human presences on our way to our destination was the field where sports practices were ongoing.

"It's a good thing we visited the nurse. It could have been worst if you just leave it as it is," Steve said as we turned the corner into the parking lot. 

It looked a lot more lively the last time I came here. But now, it looked empty which was kind of sad compared to the bustling mornings and when it was right after the bell rang and students—at least those who had cars and a driving license—rushed out to get home or wherever they were headed.

"Yeah, good thing you were quite persuasive." I tittered.

"I could say the same about you," he muttered.

"What?"

"Uh...I mean, you could say that about me." He smirked, ruffling a hand at his dirty blonde hair. 

I giggled with a shrug. What does he mean by that?

"Did you forgot where you parked your car?" I asked when we were back by the signboards stating a "no smoking" rule, "no littering" rule and Ashmoure High's proudest slogan. "We've been walking around in circles and we're back here. Again."

"Where Everyone Is Included" read the slogan of our school. Well, the principal made sure people from all walks of life were accepted. He just didn't make sure to check on their wellbeing. Or maybe that was the point. Everyone was meant to be included, after all, said the inanimate slogan.

"What? No, just, uh..." 

"Just..." I eyed him questioningly.

"I forgot where I parked my car."

"Seriously?" I giggled. "Okay, tell me your car's number plate, colour and build."

"It's—"

A series of heavy metal music sounded from Steve's handphone, making us jumped. Steve was into heavy metal? That was unexpected from a guy like him. I always thought he was more of an ordinary pop music kind of guy from his social websites. Not that I was online stalking him.

"Sorry," he said before picking it up.

After a few protests and sighs and finally a nod later, he stuffed his handphone back to his pocket. "Just my mum."

"If you're busy, we can reschedule."

"No, it's okay. She's just reminding me to be home by seven," he said hastily. He wet his lips and inserted his hands into his hoodie's pocket. "Uh...anyway, you're going to help me find my lost car, right? It's a blue Toyota."

Turning around to face the parking lot instead of the signboard, I scanned the assorted cars. Although it was long after the last bell rang, there were still a number of cars waiting for their owners to be done with practice. There were a few blue cars and Toyotas around, but none had both characteristics together. Out of sudden, I felt a pair of strong hands grabbing me from behind. One was holding a handkerchief over my mouth and nose while the other was holding me firmly against a sturdy body.

A foreign, sweet, chemical-like odour charged into my nose. Instinctively, my hands started beating on the pair of olive-skinned hands. When it didn't budge, I started crawling frantically at it. I heard someone winced. Tears were squeezed out from my eyes as I felt my heart racing. I tried screaming for help, for Steve, anyone but to no avail. My voice came out muffled from under the handkerchief. A moment later, I felt my muscles losing strength. Then, a realisation hit me.

Was this the smell of chloroform?

Focusing on the black BMW directly in front of me, I tried to resist the increasing dizziness in my head and continued to struggle against the person. I kicked my boots backwards, aimlessly targeting the legs of my attacker. More footsteps came from behind. Harshed mutterings were exchanged before I felt another pair of big hands wrapping themselves around my ankles, holding them in place, preventing me from my last defence. 

My brain was sending instructions to me, commanding me to keep trying, but my limbs grew tired and I had trouble just keeping my eyes open. My breathing grew heavy. I was breathing in more of the chemical despite knowing the thing I should be doing was the exact opposite. Soon, my hands slipped off from the one in my face. 

Just before my eyes closed, I saw a tall figure opening the door of the black car parked just beside the signboard. And I felt myself being dragged to its direction.

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Little Note:

I know, I know. I published this chapter a while back without any pictures and also a few typos that I almost couldn't make out myself. *cringes* Anyway, now that I FINALLY have time to sit down and chill, I'm back to editing and corrected those mistakes(I'm sure there's still some mistakes here and there that I'm too blind to notice, so if you found any, don't hesitate to tell me) and I also added a few pictures! I know, the posters are probably really lame, but I'm better with cover(given that people gave me the ideas) than making posters that are attractive. But still, hope you enjoyed this chapter! 

And, if you noticed, I also changed the name of the town from "Westerlea" to "Ashmoure". Why? Because from my last NBR review week, people suggested that "Westerlea" is too "fantasy" and I kinda thought so too, so I changed it into a name that I hope is more mysterious and spooky. xD So, what do you think of it? Oh, and who do you think left that note in Giselle's locker? Is it the evil squad or someone else?

If you enjoyed this chapter, remember to give it a vote and maybe share it out too. Thanks! :)