"Bonjour, mademoiselle," Oli said in a rather impressive french accent as he opened the passenger door of his silver toned 1968 Chevy Impala for me. I only knew the make and model of the car because Oli kept me up last night texting me pictures of his 'baby' and telling me random facts about it. For example, his car was only one year away from being the exact model that Dean Winchester drove in Supernatural. I think he thought it'd impress me, but I was always more of a Sammy kind of gal, so it didn't do much for me. "Your chariot awaits."

"Thank you, peasant," I said gratefully as I stepped in, causing him to burst out in laughter. His head flew back and he grabbed his stomach as I took my seat, chuckling along.

"Okay, that was not an invitation for you to call me a peasant," he managed to get out in between his laughs.

"I know," I smiled, ruffling his hair when he got back in the car. "Don't worry. You'll always be my prince."

"Why not your king?"

"'Cause, that spot's reserved for my incredible lover, young Leonardo DiCaprio."

As expected, we started laughing again.

"Honestly, though, Oli. Thanks for coming this early to get me. I appreciate it," I said, looking at my goofy best friend as he acted like he was about to cry.

Sobering up his act, he shrugged his shoulders. "No prob, Bee. I figured there was only two things that would make you want to go to school early. Either the cafeteria was serving breakfast dogs with hashbrowns, or you've got a prank to pull off."

Grinning evily, I nodded my head. "You know me so well, minion."

"I know," he agreed, smugly. "But, isn't it kind of funny that I'm 6'1" yet you call me 'minion'. I mean, I'm almost a foot taller than you."

"Pfft, crazy masterminds don't care about height."

"Hmmm, touché."

"Yup! Now drive, boy!"

"Right away, master!"

The ride to Kingsley High was, dare I say, wickedly hilarious. I filled Oli in on my scheme and he was ALL for it.

"Do you see anyone coming?" I asked, peeking over Matty's open locker door to where Oli stood, a few meters away.

Turning around 'til he checked every direction, he shook his head. "Nope. All clear."

Holding in a squeal, I did a short happy dance before getting back to what I was doing—hanging up waaaaaaay too many pictures of Justin Beiber that I printed out last night. I even had a bobble head sitting on the little shelf up top.

Fun fact: Matty hated Justin Beiber. I'm pretty sure he could acknowledge that the dude had a nice voice, but mention the Beibs and he'd want to cut all ties with you.

Oh, and you're probably wondering how I got into his locker. Easy. His memory's so bad he kept the combo taped to the back of the lock. Dumb move, if you asked me. I mean, anyone could just walk up and start taping pictures of a handsome Canadian all over the place.

Hehehehehe.

"Aaaaaand done!" I smiled, skipping back to Oli and linking arms with him. "Now, let's get some of those breakfast dogs before they run out."

Was anyone else extremely grateful whenever school food was actually good? I swear, it's not often enough that I could actually go back for seconds, pay the outrageous price they charged for the small serving sizes, and not want to choke the lunch lady out with her hair-net.

I guess I said all that to say...the food was delicious. My tummy was full and my mood was soaring. The only thing that could make it better was literally unfolding before my eyes as Oli and I turned the corner where our lockers were. Looking further down the hall, I tried not to grin too wide when I saw Matty putting in his combination with Reese and their other friend, Cooper, next to him.

"And so it begins," Oli smirked, wiggling his eyebrows before pulling us closer to the action.

"...and we can keep the good snacks in my room for us. I don't want a bunch of drunks wasting my-"

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing out loud when Reese stopped talking, his eyes huge as he looked at what I did to Matty's locker. Even Sean, the smartest out of their group, was rendered speechless as he walked up. Oh, and Matty? Well, let's just say the angry face he was making didn't help dispel the constipation rumors.

Hmmm, might as well rub in my success.

"Wow, Matty!" I exclaimed in fake shock, placing a hand on Reese's shoulder so I could lean in and see my work clearer. "An 'I Love Justin" poster! I think I had the same one when I was twelve!"

Oooo, his brow is twitching. Nice!

"There's so many pics of him!" I gasped, giving even his best friends a hard time as they tried not to be amused by the latest act in the rivalry they'd been witnessing for years now. "OMG, you're a belieber, too!?"

His dark brown eyes went from a deadly glare, to wide in horror as he realized just how many people were listening.

"No! Hell no! I'd rather die," he grunted, stepping closer to me with his fists closed.

Don't worry. Matty was lot of horrible things, but he would never hit a female. I mean, I was probably the only one that came close to pushing him that far, and he still never had. I had to give him props for that, because I knew I annoyed the hell out of him.

I also didn't know when to stop sometimes.

"It's okay, Matty. Justin loves his male fans, too."

"Alright, babe," Reese chuckled, wrapping an arm around my waist and leading me away, back to Oli. Leaning down so he could speak into my ear, he said, "As much as I love this side of you, I need Matty in a good mood if he's gonna help me set up for my party, tonight."

"Fine, just one more thing." Turning back so I was facing Matty, I stuck both my thumbs up and grinned at him. "Okay, I'm done. Just had to rub it in a little more."

Shaking his head, he asked, "So, you coming tonight, or am I gonna have to dance with someone else?"

"I'll be there," I said, watching as he grinned at the news. "But, you'll still be dancing with someone else."

"We'll see about that," he smirked, letting me go once we reached Oli. "Later, Oliver."

"Reese," Oli stated, exchanging eye contact with the handsome Pakistani boy.

When Reese was gone, Oli walked with me to my locker, showing me the video he took of Matty's reaction. This was one of the reasons I kept Oliver James in my heart. He knew I loved reliving my successes, and he also loved helping me do that. He was the freakin' Pablo to my Picasso.

"You're the best, Oli," I smiled when my phone chimed, showing I received his text. I had to make sure I had that video saved in multiple places.

"I know, which is why you're gonna help me later tonight," he smirked, causing me to pause and look at him with interest.

"Help you with what?" I questioned, amused by my best friend, even more so when he blushed.

"Well...there's this girl in my Math class that I kinda—"

And that's when I squealed, slapping him silly and swearing to be the best wingman he could ever wish for.

"Let's get you laid, buddy."