Class seemed to drag on, the last period of the day taking an eternity to end. I tapped the end of my pencil on the wooden desk in front of me, waiting for the last few seconds of Friday to tick away.
The final bell jolted me out of my seat, ringing the sweet sound of freedom in all of our ears.
I walked down the fluorescent halls and headed into the student parking lot, while everyone chaotically tried to leave and start their weekend. October in the northern part of California wasn’t usually as warm as the other parts of the state, but this fall had been as nice as our summers usually are.
Suddenly, a red Chevy Camaro barreled towards me, swerving and screeching to a halt right at my feet.
“Hey b****! We’re gonna be late to get our nails done!” A female voice called to me from the open car window, flipping her shiny blackish violet hair onto her tan shoulders, the wild color perfectly framing her bronze face.
Octavia Devixen pulled her oversized Juicy Couture sunglasses off her perfectly sloped nose to reveal her icey blue eyes. Anyone who saw her could immediately tell she was high school royalty, the queen sitting at the very top of  Scargrove High’s popularity food chain. Every girl wanted to be her; every guy wanted to date her.
And she was somehow my best friend.
I smiled and rounded the front of the glossy car, slipping into the leather interior. The smell of Chanel No. 5 filled my nose as she sped out of the parking lot.
The UltraViolet Spa was only 20 minutes or so away. I followed Octavia in the neon themed salon, heading to the racks of nail polish to choose a color, as she signed us in.
“Did you pick out a Halloween costume for the party tomorrow?” she asked, coming up behind me and scanning the rows of polish.
“I just picked up some Cleopatra costume from Party City.” I shrugged, picking a gold color.
“Typical Charlotte Lofting, playing it safe.” She sighed.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Oh, nothing. I just should’ve known you’d go with a middle school Halloween costume.” She rolled a matte black polish in her hands.
“Well, what are you going as?” I asked, trying not to sound hurt.
“A Playboy Bunny.” She smirked with a wink, turning on her heel to head for one of the mani/pedi chairs.
Of course she’d go with a more risky costume decision. If anyone else would have picked a costume like that, they’d be named a slut. But not Octavia.
When you’re the face the student body adores, you basically set the rules and trends everyone seems to follow. And if you thought she couldn’t get any more perfect, she happens to be crazy smart, too. I envied her confidence and power.
I settled in the massage chair next to her as two ladies went to work, starting with our toenails. We giggled about the latest drama and discussed makeup ideas for the upcoming party.
“So, any boys on the radar for tomorrow’s party?” I finally asked, a little mischief in my voice.
I was amused to see her cheeks growing red with a blush.
“Not really.” She tried to shrug it off
“Yeah, right. Are you sure one special guy didn’t ask to hang with you at the party?” I asked, seeing right through her cover.
“Will you shut up?” She rolled her eyes at me as the nail ladies moved to our hands to start our manicures.
I knew not to push the matter any further. Even if she wouldn’t admit it, I knew the truth. I just wondered who the lucky guy was. Octavia was the girl who played hard to get, all the guys striving to find ways to get a chance with her. 
It wasn’t like her to actually get embarrassed over one guy.
After paying for our nails and leaving the salon, Octavia stopped at the Dunkin Donuts on our way back into town.
“Am I dropping you off at your house?” She asked me. 
“We’re not gonna go to the game tonight?” We always went together, since my mom usually took the car on the weekends to visit her boyfriend and I had no other ride.
“I need to pick up the rest of my costume.” She turned up the radio.
“Oh. Yeah, take me home.” I said, brushing off us missing the game, sipping my iced coffee, mentally thanking God for my best friend.

The crowd roared with excitement, our student section erupting in cheers as Seth McClain caught a 15-yard pass for a first down. The game between our undefeated Mustangs and the opposing undefeated Westgate Dragons was now at 35-31, Westgate in the lead, with less than two minutes to go in the last quarter.
After a final timeout, our boys took the field once again, 29 yards from a touchdown that would win the game for us. My eyes were set on number nine, praying that he’d get a big catch. They lined up and tried to run the ball, only gaining a yard.
Another try, our quarterback, Blake Rosden, tried to fire a pass to McClain again. The defender broke up the pass, giving us a third down with only 16 seconds.
Rosden lined up to throw one last time.
The play snapped into action and I saw a certain receiver break away from his corner, leaving himself wide open. Blake saw him, too.
I held my breath, watching Blake pull his arm back to throw another pass. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion; the ball leaving Blake’s hand, soaring up into the football lights, and falling towards the receiver.
Please let him catch it, please let him catch it, I thought over and over, almost too scared to watch.
He lept into the air, the ball rocketing just over his left shoulder, and stretched to catch it. His body dove and slid into the endzone as the football landed right in his outstretched arms.
Time caught up to speed as the whole home side of the stadium burst into celebratory cheers, the whole team rushing onto the field.
Our student section jumped out of the stands and stormed the field to celebrate our victory with our football team.
I weaved in and out of the parents clapping their sons on the shoulder, saying how proud of them they were, friends saying, “You did it, dude,” and the girls hugging their boyfriends. I was searching for him.
A gold number nine finally caught my eye. His sweaty, dark brown hair clung to his forehead, the ends that were usually kept neatly spiked up on his head hung in his green eyes. Even from a short distance, I could see every sculpted muscle, all of them tight with post-game adrenaline and exhaustion.
My eyes drank in his 6’1” figure before he noticed me. I was thankful his family was distracting him while I gawked at him.
My heart melted even more when his gaze finally landed on me.
“If it isn’t Scargrove’s finest, the Octavia Devixen.” Noah Cursner smiled brighter than the lights above us as he made his way over to me. After two long months of flirting, he finally made a move on me.
“What is the most beautiful girl at our high school doing at a silly little football game?”
“A certain guy may have honored me with the privilege of wearing his football jersey.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s more honored that you agreed to wear his jersey. I’ve heard you’re quite the catch.”
“Speaking of catches, look at you snagging that pass to win the game,” I complimented him, nudging into his side as we walked towards the school.
“I haven’t had a catch like that in forever. You coming must’ve given me some good luck.” He nudged me back.
“Maybe I should come watch you more often then.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth.” He stopped right in front of the locker room entrance, taking my hand in his. “As long as you agree to keep wearing my jersey, I think it looks way better on you than it does on me.”
My knees went weak, his hand warm in mine. “I think that’s a fair enough deal.”
“It’s beyond fair, I like when my girl wears my clothes. Reminds everyone that the last name on the back is the lucky guy that she belongs to.” His smile grows, flecks of gold sparkling in his green eyes as he looked down at me.
“Your girl?” I try to hide my blush.
“Yep, you agreed to wear my jersey and I don’t let just any girl wear that. I know for a fact I like you and the blush on your cheeks means there’s no denying you like me, which officially makes you mine. No excuses,” he proudly stated.
“Well, I guess you could say that I’ve also had my eye on you, so I guess it does only make sense that I be your girlfriend.” I try and act cool on the outside, but, on the inside, I’m trying to remember what breathing is, a million thoughts racing through me.
“Well in that case, you know girlfriends do reward their boyfriends when they score touchdowns, especially when their touchdowns win games. A score for a score, if you know what I mean.” He winks at me, making me giggle.
“We’ve been dating not even 5 minutes and you’re already trying to get in my pants. Perv,” I joke, punching his arm playfully, hoping he couldn’t hear the worry in my voice.
“Hey, now. I was just thinking like a congratulations kiss or something. I’m offended you’d think of me as some testosterone driven animal. I’m actually quite the gentleman and I’m very good to the girls I date.” His lips brush my ear, his breath hot on my neck. “But just so you know, the last few months, I’ve been dreaming of the day I get to see you with nothing but my jersey on.”
My breath catches in my throat. I quickly try to think of how to respond to that last phrase, but I forget what talking even is when his lips crash onto mine. My lips speak for me as they move against his, without having to say a single word.
But for some reason it felt as if other eyes had been watching us.

The bright, noon sunlight poured into the room, making me pull my zebra print comforter up over my head. I nestled deeper into the warm sheets, set on sleeping in as long as I possibly could.  Until my phone rang, making me groan and drag myself out of bed.
I padded across the shaggy black carpet, swiping my phone off the huge, white makeup vanity.
“You couldn’t just text me and ask what time we were going to the party?” I groaned annoyingly, yawning into the phone. I swear, Charlotte calls me for the smallest, dumbest things.
“I didn’t know we were going to a party together.” A deep voice chuckled on the other end of the line.
“Noah?” I couldn’t hide my shock and excitement.
“Hey girl, you just waking up?” I could hear the smile in his voice, too.
“Yeah. sorry for like screaming at you. I figured you were Charlotte since she always calls me over stupid things.”
He laughs. “It’s all good. So I take it you’re going to Brooke’s Halloween party, too?”
“Yeah, it’s not like I have anything better to do.” I tried to make it sound like I got invited to better things than high school parties.
“Well, you should definitely go to the party with me instead. Unless you have better people to go with.”
Oh, s***. I already felt kinda bad for blowing off Charlotte last night and lying to her. But, now that I’m thinking about it, she didn’t even text me last night. Do I go with my hot boyfriend or my crappy “best friend?”
“No, I’d love to go with you.”
----------------------------------------
I tiptoed down the wooden hallway as quietly as possible in black stiletto heels, making sure my parents were asleep.
I crept down the staircase, thankful for the carpeted steps, and went into the kitchen. The clock on the stove read 10:34. I ducked into the bathroom.
I pulled up my black fishnets and hooked the black cotton tail onto the back of the midnight colored PlayBoy costume, completing the look with a black bow tie and matching ears.
By the time I finished fixing my mascara and putting more perfume on, it was 11:59. I pulled the door open as carefully as possible and slipped outside. Noah was waiting for me at the bottom of the long drive way.
His mouth fell open the minute he saw me, clad in my Black PlayBoy Bunny getup. And, I have to say, he looked super hot in his fireman costume.
The thump of the bass could be heard, and felt, from outside the Poltune’s house. Colored lights swirled and flashed over drunk, sweaty bodies that danced in the living room. We were in for some fun.
After making an appearance, saying hi to people I actually liked, and scanning the room for a glimpse of Charlotte’s bland brown hair, Noah presented me with a red cup of booze and pulled me onto the dance floor.
Letting the music and alcohol take its toll on me, I pressed into Noah, my world a blur of nothing but him. I was on top of the world. Minutes turned to hours, song after song carrying us to the early hours of the morning. Everyone was beyond drunk.
Noah decided to walk next door to his buddy Mark’s and crash for the rest of the night. In the spur of the moment, I decided I’d just walk home. Scargrove was far from dangerous and there was no harm in a less than ten-minute walk.
After saying goodbye to the people that could still comprehend reality, I walked out into the chilly night. The cold nipped at every inch of my bare skin, the world around me like black ink spill on a white canvas.
My heels clicked along the concrete sidewalk, the full moon casting an eerie glow on the blacked out town. Besides the heel clicking, not another sound could be heard. Everyone and everything was quiet with sleep.  In the back of my mind, I wished I was at home sleeping, too. But I only had a few more minutes to go. I could basically see my driveway.
A soft pop rung loudly through the silent streets, scaring the s*** out of me. I had the odd feeling someone was watching me. I snapped my head around to look behind me. Absolutely nothing. I was just paranoid.
I sped up my pace, hugging my arms tighter around myself.
And then I heard the footsteps. I spun to look behind me again, but couldn’t see whoever or whatever was following me. A shudder racked through my body, chilling me to the bone. Two more minutes and I’d be home. I just had to make it two m-
A cold hand clasped around my mouth, making it impossible for me to scream. Not that I could anyway; I was overcome by fear. I tried to kick and wiggle my way free as the other hand bound my wrists.
A scratchy fabric replaced the cold hand, a strong smell I couldn’t place wafted through my head, making everything foggy.
I don’t know if it was due to being drugged or if I just fainted out of sheer terror, but I just went limp. My body gave up and failed me completely.
And the world around me disappeared entirely.

She thought I wouldn’t know. That b****. Thought I was too stupid to catch her in the act. She was the stupid one for underestimating. Thank God for Kenzie Silkner, who was nice enough to take me to the game. Unlike some “best” friends.
And the little slut betrayed me over some boy. The very boy that I had a crush on since 6th grade. Noah Cursner had been one of my best friends since the 4th grade, way before the name Octavia Devixen ever mattered, before we even knew she existed. He was always there for me and I could tell him anything. Except that I was head over heels for him, praying that one day he’d come to his senses and realize that he belonged with me.
But that rich shady b**** whore, the all mighty Octavia Devixen, had to have her way and snatch him up. She couldn't even bother to tell me that she had a thing for him. It wasn’t like I confided my love for him to her because, God knows, that b**** can’t keep her mouth shut for two f***ing seconds.
She thought lying to me would work, that I would have no other way of getting to the game if I wasn’t going with her. Just thinking about it made my stomach twist and drop, followed by hot rage pouring through my whole being when I saw him with her, looking at her like she was the only girl he’d ever seen.
After three years of putting up with Octavia, this was the final straw. I should’ve done something a long time ago. I should’ve removed myself from her, shouldn’t have let her power control me, but it wasn’t too late. Better late than never, actually. I had to give her a taste of her own vile medicine.

A strong, metallic smell assaulted my nose as I came to my senses. I couldn’t tell if I was actually blind or if it was so dark that I just couldn’t see. The feeling of destroyed cloth in my mouth was almost suffocating.
I couldn’t feel the ground. My arms were throbbing with pain. I tried to move, only to find myself slightly swaying. I felt the ropes that held me up by the wrists cut deeper into the thin skin. I was hanging from the ceiling.
It wasn’t dark for long.
Too bright fluorescent lights flicked on. I pieced together that I could only be in some type of hospital room. But it was empty, and I couldn’t see the door. A blank wall sat in front of me.
I heard footsteps approach from behind me, the same thudding footsteps that followed me down the sidewalk. I froze, paralyzed with fear. I had no clue why anyone would want to kidnap me.
Maybe someone wanted ransom money from my parents. Or my dad f***ed someone over again and this was their way of getting back at him.
I realized I had been crying, suddenly feeling the wetness of tears on my face. A small, inhuman noise gurgled from my mouth under the cloth that kept me quiet.
“Oh, Octavia, you drama queen. You shouldn’t be crying. Yet.”
What? I knew that voice. I’d known that voice since 8th grade. I didn’t understand. This couldn’t be right. My body slowly turned away from the wall, turning me to face my captor.
“Aw, you look so scared. Don’t worry. I promise the worst is yet to come.”
Charlotte. Charlotte, my best friend of three years, smiled wickedly at me, a crazed look in her eyes. I tried to scream, ask her why the hell she was doing this, but the disgusting rag in my mouth hindered me from doing so.
“What was that? You seemed surprised to see me? Oh, right. I need to fill you in on why you’re here,” She hopped up on a counter in the corner of the blank room. “Well Miss Not-So-Sneaky, let’s just start with I know all about how you lied about going to the game just so you could see my Noah.”
Her Noah? What the hell was she talking about?
“Now you’re probably even more confused because while you’ve been spending the past three years at Scargrove basking in the glory of having every boy's attention, you missed the small detail that Noah and I have been best friends since way before you came along. And if you were a loyal friend, you’d know that I've had a crush on him since the sixth grade. But knowing you, that probably wouldn’t matter, since you have to have what you want. Well, I’ve had enough of your s***.” She got up and came eye level to me. “I’m gonna take this off.” She tugged at the covering on my mouth. “And if you dare scream, I swear I will torture you more than I already planned to.”
It felt like ice water was poured into my veins. She ripped the gag from my mouth with great force. I instantly tried to plead with her.
“Char, I swear I had no clue. But Noah doesn’t like you like that. He talks about how you’re like his little sister and-”
“Shut up! You don’t know a damn thing,” she screeched, smacking me clean across the face, my cheek stinging from the harsh impact.
She quickly turned and picked up a glinting object from the counter. A sharp scalpel gleamed at me. “And now you’re gonna pay for all the hurting and suffering you’ve caused me.”
She crept up to me again, turning the small medical tool in her hands. I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t think straight. Charlotte was trying to kill me. She was going to kill me. Who would stop her?
She disappeared behind me and I couldn’t hear her moving; the only sound was my ragged, terrified breathing. My heart raced, wondering what she was going to-
The cold blade sliced slowly down the back of my exposed neck. I screamed in pure pain and struggled under the knife, making the cut worse. I felt warm blood pool down my back.
As badly as it hurt, I knew the cut wasn’t deep. She wanted me to suffer. Since I was strung up, my blood ran faster down my back, escaping the open flesh freely and easily. I heard it begin to drip on the tile floor.
She didn’t reappear just yet. I tried to recollect myself when suddenly the blade was stabbed in the middle of my back. I screamed out again, feeling her wiggle the blade further underneath my skin until she hit what I could only assume was a bone, pulling the whole surgeon’s tool out of my back with a gross sucking sound. .She repeated the same action two more times on either side of my spine, making sure I felt every bit of it.
I heard her shuffle and kneel down. The scalpel was then cut along the skin on the back of my heels. Animal-like shrieks left my mouth. When I flexed my foot, I could feel my skin separating in half like a gigantic papercut.
I gritted my teeth to hide some of the pain she was obviously thriving on, watching her circle back to me like a wolf circling its prey. My body shook with fear and pain, exhaustion making my arms burn from holding my weight up. I saw her lips curl into an evil smile as she went back to the counter that held her instruments of torture.
Next, she picked up a small saw looking thing, pushing a switch that made it spin furiously. She slowly stepped towards me, putting the saw up  near my wrists. I winced, ready to take on the impact. When no pain hit me, I opened my eyes. I saw that she was cutting away at the ropes that held my arms up to the speckled ceiling.
I fell to the ground with a loud thump, pain splintering through my weak body.
She pushed me to get up after grabbing the remaining rope on my wrists. I struggled to keep up, my wounds making it difficult to keep pushing forward, as she drug me behind her into what I could only assume was an operating room. She slammed me against the cold surgeon's table and made me lay flat on it, turning on the blinding light above me.
She quickly tied me down to the table the second I laid down and rushed away. Blood stuck to me, clotting in my hair and oozing out of all my open cuts. I could see the trail of blood on the floor that led out the door from where I had just limped moments ago.
I shut my eyes, my cheek resting on the ice cold metal table that felt like a blessing on my scorching, sweaty skin. I was losing whatever hope I had left.
This was really it. She was going to kill me. It all was sinking in.
I heard her muffled steps and snapped my eyes open to see her holding a longer knife.
As she approached me again, I noticed how calm she was, how mechanical her movements. Minus the crazed look in her eye, it was like she kidnapped and tortured people all the time.
She stood over me, giving me chills as she observed me.
“I can’t wait to cut up every feature of your perfect little body. But where to start?” She tapped the point of the knife to her cheek. “Oh, I know! Everyone always talks about how stunning you were…,” She trailed off. “I think it’s time we did something about that pretty face of yours.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as she raised the knife. I felt the tip lightly trace out from the corner of my mouth, feeling her start to cut into me.
“Now, either you finish it off yourself or I can do it for you. Either way, I’ll get the satisfaction of seeing your face ruined,” she said with a sickly sweet tone, tapping my nose.
Then, a plan hit me. She’d have to free one of my arms to allow me to cut away at my face. No, it wasn't the smartest, most efficient plan. But I had to try. So I quickly said I’d do it myself.
“Don’t try anything stupid,” her eyes narrowed. “Or I will make you pay for it.”
I nodded, and, with that, she went to work cutting the ties off of my wrist. Charlotte was never the brightest.
When she undid my left restraint, I acted as if I was going to do it. And to be honest, I actually thought about it, thought about sparing myself the added pain and cutting up my own face to just get my suffering over with. But I was a fighter and wasn’t going to give up just yet. There was still a bit of strength in me.
With the knife centimeters from my skin, in swift one motion, I turned my wrist and threw the knife away from me. I heard it make a soft thud. I quickly turned to see it hit her right in the gut. When she doubled over in pain, I jumped to undo the other arm and leapt off the table. I limped toward the door.
I made it out into a long white hallway, barely able to stagger through the dimly lit hospital, coughing, sobbing, and leaving a trail of red as I went.
Somewhere in my three minute pitiful and painful escape, a foot tripped me. I hit the cracked tile with a smack and every ounce of my being was seized with pain. I immediately knew something was broken, most likely my ribs.
My vision was spotted with black and blurred. Bile was rising in my throat. All feeling began to drain away. My body was numb. I didn’t know how much blood I had lost.
Charlotte was suddenly over top of me. I sputtered and choked. Her forehead was covered in a thin sweat from chasing me. The knife I threw was still lodged in her gut, another one in her hand.
“No more games, Octavia. You’re through,” she roared at me, the sound echoing through the abandoned halls.
She raised her arms above her head and I waited to feel the final jolt of pain before meeting my death. I guess I really deserved all of this. I never really was the nicest person. I was just another pretty high school b**** that thought she was queen of the world.
Everyone wants to be you, kiss you, or kill you.
A loud bang snapped me out of my final thoughts. I thought I was dead until I saw Charlotte’s body sway and fall dead to the ground beside me. My eyes searched past the spots of black, until a figure could be seen, sprinting toward me.
My mangled and torn up body was lifted up off the deteriorating floor into strong arms, arms I knew I was safe in.
“Noah?” ~