I stood in front of my school, it was Monday morning and I was not looking forward to all the shit I was gonna get today.

I looked around and sighed, approaching the school, sidestepping kids and classmates, keeping my head down, marching to the beat from my ear bud that was in my ear playing music. I took the steps by twos, bounding up them, entering through the double doors.

Immediately things went wrong.

~~~~~

I was in gym sitting, facing my two friends, on the top of the closed bleachers, taking a break from running. I had my hair up in a tight, neat, ponytail, in red booty shorts and a red and white jersey.

Bernadette was in the same thing. Basically like me, but two inches shorter, dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and thick black rimmed glasses.

Derek had on longer, basketball, shorts on, and instead of a red and white jersey he had a red and black one on. He was two inches taller then me, had black hair that always got into his face, icy blue eyes, and I think he had a crush on me.

While my friends kept to the wall I was facing the wall, my back to the rest of the gym.

Bernadette pushed her glasses back up on the ridge of her nose. "I'm sorry about you're mom, D, if I knew I'd of let you spend the night at my house."

I shrugged. "I'm living with my Dad now, its cool . . ."

"You're dad?" They both exclaimed in unison.

I nodded. "We found him, surprisingly, shortly after I found out mom was . . . gone." I still couldn't say dead. It was a touchy subject to me now. "He's not that bad . . . I'm just . . ." I fiddled with my fingers. "Just surprised on who he was."

"Who?" Derek asked. "What is he, a famous rich guy?"

I shrugged my left shoulder. "Something like that . . ."

Both their eyes bulged out of their heads, they looked at each other then back at me. "Who!"

I looked down at my hands, biting my lip. "Mmmm . . ."

"C'mon, tell us."

"Dean . . . Ambrose."

"WHAT?!"

It was my turn to have my eyes pop out of my head, I stared at them, taken aback by their outburst. "What?"

"Dean Ambrose? Nah uh, that! That can't be true!" Derek yelled, awestruck.

"Well it is . . ." I muttered.

"What are you losers yelling about over here?" A snide comment came from my right, I looked up to find Mrs. Popularity aka Susan Gauguin.

I sneered, rolling my eyes. "Nothing that concerns you Sue-an."

She rolled her eyes in disgust. "Hardly, now get out of my way, Anderson."

She walked by and shoved me off the bleachers, I hit the hard floor with a loud thud, pain flaring up from the back of my head. I stayed there, sprawled out on the floor. I blinked, momentarily stunned.

As I got up I heard people laughing and calling me a klutz, I felt my face get beat red with anger. I glared up at Susan as she sat on the bleachers, giggling with her friends talking about me and my friends. I snapped. "You little motherfucker . . . "

I leaped onto the bleachers and grabbed her by ankle, dragging her off them and threw her too the ground. She screamed as I attacked her "precious" little face.

I felt the couch's large arms wrap around my waist and drag me off the bitch, I shoved him away, and stormed off to the office, already knowing where I had to go.

"Office Anderson!" Couch Buchanan called.

"I know! I was already going." I grabbed my gym bag and pushed one of the double doors open, marching to the office.

"I'm never the innocent one am I?" I asked myself, sighing, I rubbed the back of my head and flinched. "I hate my life, thanks bitch for the bad impression for my dad . . ."

~~~~~

I sat in the office, arms crossed as I listened to Jon and the principal, Mr. Href, talking about what happened, but as I listened it was definitely not what happened.

Mr. Href said I had fell on my mistake and randomly took it out on Susan. . . God I wanted to straggle that fucking bastard.

When Jonathan walked in he looked at me with a blank look and beckoned me to come to him, I did, not looking up at him as I stood in front of him.

"Drew."

"Yes." I said through clenched teeth.

"We're going home."

I looked up at him finally, feeling dreadful. "I'm suspended aren't I?"

"Only for the rest of the day." I nodded slowly and fixed my strap on my shoulder, hissing as it hit a sore spot from my fall.

Screw you boney shoulder blades.

"C'mon Drew." He opened the office door and let me out first, following me out. We walked down the hall filled of kids, most of the kids watched us with wide eyes, muttering who my dad was, I looked up at Jon. He looked down at me and slung his arm over my shoulders. I smirked as I saw Susan, her smug look slowly disappearing as she looked up at Jon, her jaw dropped and her followers mouths were left agape.

I saw my friends and they stared at me. 'Told ya so' I mouthed to them, they just nodded.

'Call me later.' Bernadette mouthed back, I nodded curtly and gave her a thumbs up. 'I'll try.'

She nodded in understanding.

When we exited the school I let out a small hysterical laugh. "That was awesome . . ."

Jon touched the back of my head gingerly and walked ahead of me, staring at his hand, turning towards me. "You're bleeding."

"I am?" I asked, astonished, touching the back of my head and looking at my fingertips. "Huh . . . I guess I hit my head harder on the floor then I thought."

"How did you fall anyway, because I don't really believe what that old man said."

"Susan Gauguin pushed me off them, I was talking with my friends on the top and she came by and shoved me off." He gave me a incredulous look and I shrugged. "Like anyone would believe me though, I'm never the victim I'm always the attacker, psst, attack my ass I'm never innocent when it comes to popular people and me. Ha! I'm never innocent with stuff I never do too, like once I was blamed for stealing Alexandria stupid DS from her locker, when I don't even know her comm nor her and why would I want a stupid little pink DS? I hate pink. Yuck."

"Harsh." Was the only thing he said, I shrugged.

"I got used to by . . . mmm . . . third grade?" I tapped my bottom lip with my pointer finger, thinking. "Yeah I think so. Third grade . . ."

Jon helped me into the truck and closed the door for me, pointing back at the school. "I'll be right back."

I watched him walk back to the school my stomach sinking slowly. "Oh no . . . I'm such an idiot . . ."

Jonathan's P.O.V

I headed back to the office, to speak with the principal whatever his name was. When I saw the blood on Drew's neck I was pissed, what made me snap was her mindless rant to no one in particular about what happens to her here.

The kids moved out of my way as I pasted, giving me a wide berth of space as I stormed into the office. Mr. Href looked up from his papers. "Mr. Anderson."

"Its Good asshole. Jonathan Good let me see the recording camera from the gymnasium."

"Sir that's school - "

"Does it look like I give a fuck? Let me see that frickin' camera or I'll raise hell in this school."

"How will you do that?"

I grabbed the mic to the school announcements. "Is this thing on?"

I heard screams from classrooms and outside the hall as kids began to peek inside the room. "By the screams I just heard down the hall I'll take that as a yes."

More screams.

Mr. Href snatched the mic from my hands. "Ignore him school, and continue your day." He sat the mic down and sighed.

"Let me see the camera."

He pointed to the back of the office and I nodded, bowing to him, heading back there.

I sat at the desk playing footage of kids in the gym. I messed around and rewound the tape.

"Ah, there we are." I murmured as I recognized Drew in one of the shots, sitting up on the bleachers with two classmates. My guess Bernadette and Derek, her back to the gym.

I watched them talk, only seeing her companion's facial expressions.

Then they all looked over in the same direction where a preppy, snubby girl stood staring at the three like they were trash.

Drew said something and the girl rolled her eyes, approaching them. As she squeezed past them she purposefully pushed Drew and she lost her balance, falling off the bleachers.

When she hit the floor, I didn't need audio to know she hit it hard, I flinched.

She sat up after a minute or so, people obviously laughing at her. She turned around and probably glared at the girl that pushed her.

Then with amazing speed, she jumped onto the bleachers, grabbing the girl's ankle and dragged her to her, throwing her off and climbing onto her to punch her repeatedly in the face before she was pulled off her by the couch.

She shoved him off her and walked away, the couch called after her and she replied, grabbing her gym bag and pushed the door open, disappearing into the hall.

I looked at the hall monitor and at the recording of Drew leaving, sliding the headphones on, my ears greeted with words I wasn't suspecting to hear.

"I'm never the innocent one am I?" She asked, talking to herself. Sighing, she messaged the back of her head and flinched. "I hate my life, thanks bitch for the bad impression for my dad . . ."

My jaw slacked.