I run out of the class as fast as my tiny little feet can take me. Normally I am extremely slow and start having asthma attacks after five minutes of running even though I don't have asthma.

But the fact that I just slapped the guy who is considered a God in my school is really motivating me to run faster. I mean seriously, people don't get in his way or talk back to him, let alone slap him across the freaking face.

I run straight down the hallway and jump into my ugly vomit green van in the parking lot, switching the engine on. I see Dylan run out the school after me and I hit the gas pedal, driving away as fast as this useless van can take me.

I know Dylan says he wouldn't hit a girl and all that but he looks so mad that I am not taking a chance.

He has never left me alone, almost every day he comes and tries to flirt with me and his persistence needs an award. It felt really good slapping that smirk off his face. Although I am probably going to have to avoid him for the rest of the year, until I graduate and never have to see his Greek God-like face again. Knowing that fact makes me feel about a billion times better, until I start thinking about what would happen to me if Dylan actually finds me.

I'm so dead.

---

The next day I wake up praying to God that I can become a chameleon and become camouflaged into my surroundings like the chameleon from Rango.

I change into black clothes to be as unnoticeable as possible. I have a black hoodie on and nobody even glances at me as I walk through the halls with my hoodie over my head.

I wear black and pink most days anyway, those two colours are my favorites and I know they are complete opposites but they also go really well together.

As they say, opposites attract.

I thank the bubblegum princess that nobody else notices me either because then I would be dead meat. Why? Because they would tell Dylan is what I am wearing and he would find me and kill me.

The only lesson I have with Dylan is English lit so I am hoping he doesn't notice me.

It seems like everyone is talking about the same thing from what I can hear of the whispers. Me. Well, me slapping Dylan and not being dead yet. I emphasize the word yet.

I somehow get through all my classes without my blood being smeared all over the floors. Maybe he thinks I stayed at home because I'm scared of him. Ugh, I'm not scared of him.

Okay, that's a lie. I'm terrified. Although I would never admit that. If there are three things you should know about me it is this:

1) I am always sarcastic AF. It is basically my second language and I am fluent.

2) I would never admit to anything that would embarrass me and I would rather go down fighting as a cocky bastard than as a coward.

3) Dylan O'Brien. That's all I need to say about that.

Yup, that's me, the sarcastic, little, cocky, fangirl. Nice to meet you.

I walk out the school when I see Dylan; he is talking to one of his delinquent football friends.

His football friend looks at me and his eyes widen. I realize that I am not wearing my hoodie. Oh pickles.

"Hey Dylan, isn't that nerd the one that slapped you?"

Dylan swings around faster than a cheetah that was injected with caffeine and his pretty brown eyes meet mine.

Dylan stares daggers at me at clenches his fists at his sides, his jaw clenches as his lips set in a hard line. He is going to kill me.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

I should run now.

Qotd: "Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former."

- Albert Einstein