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I backed away a little from Blake, not breaking eye contact.

According to my daddy's one-oh-one fighting tips, you had to look at your opponent in the eyes, that way you could see him completely and not miss any move he would make.

My dad might have been out of it but he had always taken seriously the whole a-girl-gotta-know-how-to-kick-some-butt. I guess it made him feel better to know his little girl could defend herself.

Another advice from my wise father was that if you ever hit a guy and he was on the ground, you had to beat him up until he could never get back on his feet otherwise he'd chase after you and do it himself.

The metaphor wasn't lost on me here. I shouldn't have hit Blake and let him get back on his feet. Now I was a dead girl.

Blake's glare turned into one of his own personal smirk as he took a handful of spaghetti.

Alright that's not so bad.

I could easily run away from him. Unfortunately, I couldn't turn my head to see if I had a clear shot to run the hell away, because I would break eye contact and I just knew he would throw it the second I did.

Anyway, I really shouldn't be too confident about this. Blake was a freaking running back after all. He could probably easily catch up with me if I did run.

And then I saw his hand, full of spaghetti, coming towards me.

My automatic reflex was to grab his hand to stop him which was really stupid of me because that was when I lost eye contact. And totally didn't see what he was really going to do.

Blake grabbed his Gatorade and spilled it all over my shirt.

My screaming answer was spontaneous. "YOU ASSHOLE!".

Luckily, my shirt wasn't white and see-through, but it still clung to me uncomfortably.

Next thing I knew, Clark jumped on the table and yelled, "WET T-SHIRT!"

Everyone in the cafeteria stopped what they were doing and turned their attention towards us.

Alright, Lexi is mad now!

"Oh you want a wet t-shirt?" I asked him, while grabbing a can of soda on the table and started to sake it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy girl," Clark said raising his hands in the air.

"You asked for it babe," I said and grabbed the lid.

"Be reasonable! Eaton's the one who spilled the Gatorade," he kept on pleading.

I smiled, and I think that for a second he thought I wasn't going to do anything. "Don't worry, he'll get his punishment soon enough. For now I'm just giving you what you want—a wet t-shirt," and at the same time I said that, since he had his guards down, I pulled the lid and the soda pretty much instantly drenched Clark.

The guys were up from their seats laughing at the scene, Clark dripping wet with soda everywhere on his shirt but also on his pants and in his hair... Maybe I had been a little mean... Whatever Clark was a pig!

"Nice tits!" I caught Shawn yelled.

Everyone were screaming things at him, seeing he wasn't jumping off of the table.

"You'll get a job at Hooters in no time now!" I heard Connor said.

I started to get hysterical, which was weird because it really wasn't that funny but I think I was just too on the edge lately.

But before I lost it too much I turned towards Blake who was staring at Clark, laughing and pointing him.

"Dance for us Clarky! Come on take that top off and show us your boobs!" Blake yelled, his deep voice echoing throughout the cafeteria.

Taking advantage of his distraction, I snatched someone's glass that was filled with ice, grabbed Blake's jeans and poured all the ice into it.

"FUCK!" Blake squeaked grabbing his crotch.

Alright now that was funny, and I was really hysterical.

Blake kept jumping up and down, trying to make the ice slid out of his pants but kept squealing.

"Scream for me Blaky," Clark laughed, clearly enjoying this.

"You shut the fuck up!" Blake said his voice strained, his hand in his pants trying to retrieve the ice.

I was slowly backing away from him, trying to stay inconspicuous. I had to get out of here and I had to do it quickly. Plus I was starting my shift at the library in ten minutes... and I had to find a dry shirt.

"Where do you think you're going Grayson?" Blake asked, the second I turned my back.

Shit!

I turned around slowly, trying to simply smile and not giggle every two seconds but it was hard not to when I looked at Blake, with spaghetti sauce still on his face, and almost doing the pee-pee dance.

But before either of us could say anything else a teacher made his way through us.

"What's all this supposed to mean?" Mrs Bull, or like Tyler and his friends like to call her; The Torrid Mrs Bull, asked.

Mrs Bull is the living definition of a bitch. She's the meanest teacher you can come across. I blame that on the fact that when you looked into her eyes, she seemed dead inside, like when Brady loses a Super Bowl.

The year after she had Shawn and Clark in her class, she actually took a sabbatical for health reason, but everyone knew it was because she had a nervous breakdown.

Shawn and Clark weren't angels. And they decided that if she was going to be a bitch to them, well they would make her life a living nightmare. And they succeeded.

So now, it was easy to understand how much she hated all the football boys...

"DETENTION! Every single one of you," she yelled and her face was getting red.

"Aww come on Mrs Bull, it was an accident," Shawn said.

"Detention!" she yelled again.

Damn...

Her stupid detention slips appeared in her hand; like they had always been there and then she started to hand them to every one of us.

I took mine with a frown.

"I want everyone in the detention room at three thirty or else this is going straight into your files!" she screamed and then she turned around and wiggled her big ass out of the cafeteria.

Bitch much!?

Sometimes it felt like some teachers really had nothing better to do with their lives than making their students miserable.

I sighed loudly and prepared myself to walk to the library when a squeal stopped me.

I turned again to smirk at Blake who had a big chunk of ice in his hand.

"I bet having your balls on fire by Clamedia sounds good now," I said with an evil grin.

"You know we're not done here!" he told me his eyes narrowing.

"Oh but we are," I said nodding with a little too much enthusiasm.

I turned around again, but I decided I wasn't quite done yet.

"Oh by the way, you should have that checked," I added pointing his crotch, "if you don't want it to turn black and have it cut off."

Then with a smirk, I kissed my palm blew him a kiss, winked and walked away.

When I was out of the cafeteria, Alex caught up with me.

"I'm going to destroy you Alexander Parker!" I told him, anger boiling up.

"What?" he asked, confused

"You invited him!" I hissed

"Aww come on. Everything's not always about you. Blake's my friend you know, even though he's a total douche and annoys the crap out of you I actually enjoy his company."

"Die!"

He laughed. "Fine. Be like that."

"Did you see what just happened in there? Did you see what he did," I asked him, taking the hem of my shirt pulling it away from me to emphasis what had just happened minutes ago.

"If I recall you're the one who pushed his face in his plate. You started it," Alex said shaking his head in fake disapproval.

"Oh sure! Protect your little boyfriend! He was smirking at me! What did you want me to do," I whined.

I knew I sound like a five year old but I didn't care. Blake was annoying! And yes, I was pouting.

"Whining will get you nowhere," Alex said and sighed.

"Whatever! I'm not going in the same car as him!, I said pouting and crossed my arms over my chest.

Damn. My shirt was still full of Gatorade.

Gatorade was sticky!

"You never minded being in the same car as him before."

"But before he wasn't talking to me and annoying the crap out of me. He simply ignored me and it was perfect that way," I said and pouted more, "I don't want to get in a car with him now."

"We'll you're going to have to deal with it or find another car or not come at all," Alex answered not giving in.

He was used to whiny me.

"Bad Alex!" I said and tapped his forehead.

"Ouch!"

"You asked for it!" I said and turned around.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Alex asked.

"To the library!" I said a duh voice.

"With that shirt?"

Ugh!

"I'll find something!" I said and walked away.

"By the way I'm not your dog! You're my Kitty!" Alex yelled after me, his voice wicked but I just gave a small wave of my hand, not looking at him.