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As you could imagine, the rest of class was uneventful. I wasn't told by Mr. Finley to get up and introduce myself to the class. In all honesty, I didn't care if he called on me or not. I wasn't afraid of speaking in front of a room of people-be it big or small crowds.

When it came to speaking to an audience, I never had a problem growing up and hardly got stage fright. Back in middle school, I'd even won a few district titles for my speeches at Speech and Debate tournaments. The sad truth was that I never broke a sweat while talking to a crowd of people, but I had a harder time talking to my therapist in Maine.

Let's not talk about that though. I'd rather not.

This year I knew I needed to tone down on what I said in front of people and who I said it to. So far I've been pretty awful at it if you count the last two interactions I had with Dakota. It wasn't my fault though, he was naturally a jerk and I was naturally not gonna let him just say those things about me or to me without any kind of a comeback.

Speak of him, for the most part Dakota kept his head low in class, constantly drawing on that same sheet of paper he had in the cafeteria.

Somewhere near the end of class, he brought out a sketch book and started doodling in there, too. He concentrated his attention on that piece of paper, ignoring the rest of the world around him as he added different strokes to his drawing. He was hunched forward, causing his hair to fall around his face.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't try and peek at his creation, but I didn't have a good view from where I was seated. Faye leaned forward in her seat and blocked most of the view-and I wasn't sure if that was on purpose or not.

When the bell rang, Dakota stuffed his sketch book into his backpack, sliding it off the desk and throwing it in. By doing so, the loose leaf piece of paper he'd been drawing on earlier fell of his desk, hitting the carpeted floors.

As students went for the front door, talking amongst themselves and discussing which class they were heading off to now, I was left hesitating near my seat.

I don't know why I cared about that ass-hat. He's a waste of time and patience. My thoughts snickered.

Dismissing my internal battle between what was right and was undoubtable wrong, I collected the folded up paper off the ground and brought it to eye level.

The words: To Diana was written in beautiful hand writing. Almost like calligraphy. Just as I started unfolding it, it was snatched from my hands.

"That's not yours." Dakota seethed, stuffing the paper into to his fitted black jeans.

"I uh-uh-"

"Spit it out," he growled. "Actually, from what Franklin says, you're not much of a spitter."

I gasped. "You know that's not true. You were there."

He shrugged. "I may or may not have been there. Either way, that didn't mean I'd waste my breath trying to save your reputation and tell people I was with you that night. I'd much rather pretend I was never there at all."

I could've sworn that someone had punched me when he said that, knocking the wind right out of me. My cheeks burned hot as he smirked down at me. He was satisfied with his statement, gloating like the jerk he was.

I squinted. "Go to hell."

"I'll see you there, doll. I'll make sure to save you an extra special spot there. Just for you." He winked and walked off.

...

I didn't think it was actually possible to hate someone this much. You know, other than my father and mother. And Jared.

I spent the remainder time at school trying not to replay the events of this morning. Thankfully the rest of the day wasn't as crazy as the morning had been. I'd noticed Dakota in my P.E. class, but he was placed in the far back of the class so I didn't have to see that stupid, stupid gorgeous face.

I guess what I hated the most was the fact that I found him attractive even after all that had happened.

My mind dwindled on the thought of the name of the girl he'd written on the sheet of paper. I'd seen a tattoo with the name Diana on his arm, placed between the other art on his body. Most of the things on him, from where I stood, weren't tattoos made up of letters. The large script on his left arm was the only thing that wasn't a drawing or image of something.

I was curious on who she was to him. A large part of me came to the conclusion that it must be his girlfriend's name. Or a past girlfriend.

I bet she's pretty. She's probably five foot one with beautiful red hair and freckles for days. I bet she doesn't have a family he hates like hell. She probably drives one of those classic Volkswagens--

I shook my head and pulled myself out of that thought before I got any further. This wasn't the time to hate on a fictional girlfriend he may or may not have. I didn't even like this guy, let alone care about what his girlfriend drove.

...

"Your step-brother does black magic or something. I can swear on that now," Beth said during lunch.

"I established that Maven was the spawn of the devil the second I met him," I informed, biting into my apple.

"No, not that step-brother." She shook her head. "I'm talking about Hunter. After that big stunt before first period, I haven't heard anyone talk about you."

"Everyone's quoting Carmen now and talking about Franklin's you know what." Xander said and wiggled his pinky finger. "In the end I think he ruined his own reputation by messing with you."

"How'd you do that anyway?" Beth questioned. "How'd you convince Hunter Price to defend you like that? The guy hardly stands up for his own brother half the time."

"I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine. It's not like I bribed him into it. He did it all on his own." I answered while shrugging.

"He could just feel sorry for you." Xander guessed, forcing a pout. "I'm not even related to you and I feel sorry."

I rolled my eyes. He was so full of shit. I could smell it from all the way over here.

Lunch ended with Xander parting from our little group. He had English and we had Physiology class together. I kept the dialogue between us light for the most part. But deep down inside, I knew what I truly wanted to ask her with Xander gone from her side.

"Do you know who Diana is?"

She slowed her walk, gripping her textbook in her hands a little tighter. I'd struck a chord.

Jackpot.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well. I don't know a thing about her, that's the problem."

Her tense shoulders relaxed and she went back to her normal pace. "Good. Trust me, you don't want to know. Keep it that way."

"Is she one of Dakota's girlfriends or something?"

She snickered. "No. Not even close. It's his sister."

I exhaled a little bit easier after hearing that. But I'd never admit that in front of a judge. "Oh, okay. It's his much younger or older sister I'm presuming because I haven't seen her around here."

That same pained expression graced Beth's face. "By saying she's his sister, I mean she was his sister. She died last summer. She was his younger sister by one year."

_________

please vote and comment.

. . . . . .

a/n: What are your thoughts on Dakota and Silvia so far?

Song: Everybody's Watching Me by the Neighbourhood

Lyrics:

"Where can I go? Everybody's watching me."

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