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The one where I'm slapped down.

"That didn't go over so well, did it." I look up from my crouched position on the floor.

"I know you," I say, to the girl in front of me. She is poised, with an unruffled air. She looks close to my age, and her blond hair is cut close to her scalp, bringing her gorgeous facial features into stark relief. She's wearing a black crop top paired with black cargo pants and combat boots.

"No, you don't" she retorts

"Yes I do, you were with him"

"Oh yes," she chuckles, "you saw us, in your school, and then ran away like a hell itself was on your tail"

Colour rises in my cheeks as mortification fills me. I close my eyes and let out a groan.

"Just go away please," I say to her.

"No can do sweetheart" she replies crouching.

For some reason, her calling me sweetheart makes me see red. My emotions fine-tune themselves into a solid blade of anger.

I rush at her, screaming, hands outstretched, hoping to choke her, but with surprising and frankly embarrassing ease, she slaps my hand away.

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