Crestfallen

Head up for this book:

Always play the song because they are always good.

That's pretty much it so yeah.

Oh and don't plagiarize this book because there's like copy right stuff and some fines so that would suck for you, so I'm all honesty, I'm helping you out here.

I don't know why you would plagiarize this book anyways, there are plenty of better books out there.

Hope you enjoy! :

Casey's POV

"Hey, nutcase!" My best friend called from the other end of the hall. Half the students looked up at her and then over at me. I mentally face palmed myself as I walked down the hallway with my head down. My hand subconsciously tightened around the strap of my backpack.

"Thanks for that." I muttered, angrily running my tan hand through my golden blonde hair.

Her big brown eyes held innocence as she shrugged. "Thanks for what?" She asked with a malicious smile on her glossy lips.

"As if you don't know." I sneered playfully, tucking my backpack into my locker. "You know, you'd think the school would build lockers wider than the average width of a backpack. Then again, maybe they're just trying to decrease the amount of kids that get shoved into lockers."

"Yeah, maybe." Macy replied, shutting her locker with her binders in hand. "Or they didn't pass geometry because they had Mr. Labonte as a teacher." She snapped, holding out her math exam which was marked as a 46% in angry red marker.

"Ugh, so true." I agreed, giving her a sympathetic look. A loud yelp echoed through the hallway and I looked over to my left. Lo and behold, a kid was behind shoved into a locker by none other than Jeremy Storm, the school prick.

Most people consider him to be the resident bad boy, but in my eyes, he's just one of the many bad guys who seem to rule this world by walking all over people.

"I guess my locker assumption was inaccurate, you win." I said, smiling at Macy. She leaned against her locker which was conveniently beside mine.

Her eyes however, weren't on me. Her brown doe eyes were trained on the figure who was currently smashing some poor kid into the lockers. I turned around and watched him, cringing every time there was a crunching sound.

"He has so much pent up anger, I actually almost felt bad for him for a moment there." I told her, unable to remove my eyes from the scene. No one dared stand in his way. Everyone loved him and he loved them as long as they didn't get on his bad side.

"I'd help him get rid of all that pent up energy any way he wanted." She purred, lust pooling in her eyes. I cringed so hard as I turned around to fully face her instead of craning my neck.

"Please tell me you mean that you'd be willing to be his personal punching bag, not what I think you mean." I tried, pleading with my eyes. She smirked at me and let out a small laugh.

"Nope, I'd let him park his car anywhere he wanted." She cooed, putting her hands on my shoulders, purposely trying to make me uncomfortable. She was very successful.

"Oh, look! I think I hear Mr. Labonte calling me for some geometry, I'll see you for second period!" I lied as I shuffled away from my sex-addicted best friend, I was pretty sure we was a virgin though... I shivered as I replayed her words in my head. Ga-ross.

I headed into French class and sat in the back of the class. It's too early in the morning for another language.

The bell rang and students started filing in. Mme. Breault started teaching us subjunctive verbs and how to conjugate it. Yes, it's just as boring as it sounds. Ten minutes into class, someone opened the door without warning.

I stopped my heavy note taking to see who it was. To my surprise, it was Jeremy Storm. He handed her a bright pink slip of paper and watched her as she read it.

"Transferring from Spanish halfway into the first semester? That's quite risky, isn't it?" She questioned aloud. When he made no move to reply, she simply smiled. "Bienvenue a notre class de fran?ais, j'espère qui vous parlez au moins un peu de Fran?ais." [Welcome to our French class, I hope you speak at least a little bit of French.]

"Nope, not even a little bit." He replied with a smirk. I was confused. Did that mean he understood French because he knew what she said, or he didn't because he said he didn't?

"Well, take a seat. Since Mr. Pearson isn't here today, you can take his spot." She told Jeremy. I looked to my left, the only seat beside mine, and silently cursed Carter for not being here today of all days.

He strode over to the seat like he owned the place, which he probably did because rumour has it that he's almost as rich as Bill Gates. Okay, maybe not that rich, but it gives you the gist.

Mme. Breault continued teaching and Jeremy ruffled through his pencil case, making a surprisingly loud ruckus. Soon enough, he gave up whatever he was doing with a huff. Next thing I knew, his finger was poking my elbow. I flinched away and he looked at me amusedly.

I waited for him to say something, but he seemed mesmerized by something. I looked behind me to see if Tiffany, the queen bee, was standing behind me for some reason, but she wasn't. When I turned back around, he seemed to have snapped out of it.

"Can I borrow a pencil?" He whispered, making direct eye contact with me and flashing me his pearly whites. I nearly fainted on the spot and it was a good thing I was sitting down because otherwise I would've fallen due to how wobbly my knees felt. His bright green eyes reeled me in until I swore I could see the stars in them.

Snapping back to reality before it was weird, I coughed like the weirdo I am. Well, no. I choked like the weirdo I am. I started coughing uncontrollably because I was choking on my own spit. I've never cringed so hard in my life. Once I finished, half the class was looking at me and the teacher was eyeing me wearily.

"Ms. Hall, are you okay?" She asked me, only further embarrassing me.

"Peachy." I replied, giving her a cringe worthy thumbs up. I turned back to see Jeremy on the verge of laughter. Hilarious.

I angrily opened my pencil case and whipped out a freshly sharpened pencil. I frustratedly slammed it down on his desk, making a louder sound than I thought it would've made. Again, I wanted to crawl into a ball and die.

For the rest of the class, I kept my head down and I hardly even looked up to see the board. When the bell finally rang, I got out of there as fast as I could, rushing to biology so that I could tell Macy how I ruined my life in the span of one French class.

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So here is the new version!

The other one wasn't funny enough for me and I didn't like the plot line. I wanted to write something more humorous, y'know?

We'll still do these though! ~ Question of the chapter: First name? - Natasha.

Casey's POV

"You did all that, in 108 minutes?" Macy asked me incredulously.

"It's a talent, I know." I replied. I'd just finished explaining the events of the previous events to my best friend here, and this is the reply she gives me.

"Okay, just... Breathe. Yeah, breathe." She said, taking deep breaths for herself. I think this is stressing her out more than me. Since we worked in pairs for biology, Mme. Sutherland had allowed us to pick our partners for our senior year. It was a tradition of hers.

"Ah, fuck." Macy exclaimed suddenly. I turned to face her and saw her using two fingers to peel her eyelid off of her eyeball.

"Oh, God, what are you doing?" I questioned, turning my head away from her and putting my hand on the side of my head so that I couldn't see her.

"I'm trying to get this damn eyelash out of my eye. It's been bothering me since P.E this morning." She stated irritatedly. "You remember last year, when we learned that eyelashes were the body's adaptation to protect your eyes?"

"Yeah." I replied, looking back at her to find her furiously blinking her eyes.

"Well I can't remember the last time I got something other than an eyelash in my eye. What a great defence mechanism." Macy said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"It's sad because it's true." I agreed, smiling at her pain. Sadistic, I know. Mme. Sutherland began teaching while Macy and I engaged in a frivolous conversation. The class flew by and lunch came faster than I'd anticipated.

"I'll meet you at our lockers, I just gotta get my pencil back." I told her once I remembered that he hadn't given my pencil back at the end of French class and I knew I'd forget by tomorrow.

"You're actually going to go?" She asked, clearly astounded. Her eyes had even widened a fraction.

"Yup." I said, popping the 'p'. I waved goodbye and she watched me nervously. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tad nervous too. Actually, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't super nervous.

I wandered the halls and made my way through the hundreds of students until I finally saw a faintly familiar blob of brown hair. Who am I kidding. That fohawk wasn't a blob, it sat on his head so perfectly that it was impossible to deny it.

As I reached him, I realized that he was in a circle with his friends. Fabulous.

I took a deep breath and pushed my way through two of the skyscrapers who were clearly over six feet tall. My height of 5'8" was pathetic compared to theirs. The people I'd pushed aside were Liam and Chris. The only other people in the circle were James and Jeremy.

They'd all stopped their conversations to look down at me expectantly. "P-Pencil." Was all I sputtered. Queue the face palm. The boys all started laughing in sync and it creeped me out. "I'm cringey, we've established that, pencil please." I said with a surprising amount of confidence. The boys finished off their chuckles and watched me.

"I lost it." He said with a certain nonchalance that ticked me off.

"You... Lost it?" I repeated, staring up at him blankly.

He nodded and said, "Are you deaf too?"

I ignored his comment and addressed the issue at hand. I was no longer afraid, I was just pissed. "How could you lose it, it's been one fricking class since I gave it to you!" I exclaimed, thankfully not attracting a crowd. What? Did he lose it in between some girl's boobs as he was screwing them in the janitor's closet?

"I'm aware." He said, watching me with his green eyes that I no longer found oh so attractive.

"Next time I see you with a pencil, I'm ripping it out of your beefy hands!" I cried angrily, stomping my foot.

"Aww, she's cute. Can we keep her?" The guy to my left spoke. I realized that it was Liam. His features were quite similar to mine except he was as pale as a sheet. His golden blonde hair matched mine though, same with his blue eyes though they were a bit lighter than mine.

"I'm not a possession." I nearly growled, glowering up at him.

"Of course you're not." The other boy to my right said, wrapping his arm around me. This boy was Chris. His hair was shaggy and platinum blonde, he reminded me of a surfer dude. His brown eyes reminded me too much of Macy for me to be interested though.

The only boy who hadn't said anything yet, was James. He was usually the quiet one of the group. He was still outgoing, just not as outgoing as the rest of the gang. Of course, they all played on the football team and just to make everything even more cliché, Jeremy is the quarterback.

I grabbed one of Chris' fingers and lifted it a little. "How much do you value your arm?" I questioned aloud. This question caused him to remove his arm faster than I could say 'move biotch'. Their attention was giving me a confidence boost and I was liking it.

"Yeah, we can definitely keep her." James finally spoke from across the circ- square, I guess.

"Well, I look forward to collecting that pencil, Jeremy." And with that, I turned on my heel and left, feeling like a goddess. I met Macy at my locker and spilled all the information before I even sat down.

I had a 'salad sandwich' for lunch again today. At least that's what my dad called it. It was lettuce and mayonnaise on multi-grain bread. It's an acquired taste, but you get used to it.

We never had much money, but dad got demoted because when mother left he just couldn't handle much. She left four months ago for another man. I didn't have time to be sad about it because I had to comfort dad. I didn't mind her not being here, it was better than knowing that she was cheating. At least she had the balls to leave.

I think dad is getting better, but I'm not sure. He's seeing a shrink, but I don't know how much that'll do for him.

Macy and I fell naturally into a random conversation about how to eat pizza. Apparently she eats it from the crust to the tip and I almost slapped her.

Granted, I take the cheese off my pizza so if I slapped her, she'd slap me back.

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That was a reference to the Hooded Figure if you've read it :P

I like writing this so far, but I'm gonna go to bed because it's 12:44am. I probably can't update until Wednesday because I'm grounded from all internet until then. The reason for that is because I was drinking with my friend when my mom wasn't home. It was stupid, I know, but I'll live. (I'm 14 btw)

Question of the chapter: Tell me one thing you regret. - Drinking with my friend.

AMAZING COVER BY @NERDFPIPER !!

Casey's POV

The class I dreaded the most - social studies.

School's way to force you to learn about some ancient civilization from centuries ago that everyone secretly knows will have no relevance in the future.

I hesitantly opened the door and it opened with a creak. I've never skipped class before, but the idea had planted itself in my mind.

I wandered into the classroom and lost myself in thought.

How does that milkshake and fry thing work? I mean, I understand the sweet and salty appeal, but it's a milkshake. And a fry. I cannot comprehend the complexity of the mixture.

I took a seat in the back row and kept thinking.

What if someone ate their pizza from the sides? There's no safe place to hold onto! Either the greasy cheese or the hard bottom. Sure, they could hold onto the crust, but then the other side would droop.

The shrill of the bell pierced the air and students took their seats. Mme. Kingston started droning on about a topic that no one gave a hoot about and I looked around.

Why wasn't anyone else sitting in the back row?

Suddenly, the door bursted open, revealing two boys. Chris and Liam. With a silent groan, I remembered that only they sat back here. I was too caught up in my head to remember. They strolled in and looked right at me before sharing a smirk. I shut my eyes and prayed, please don't sit here, please God, I'm truly a nice person. I swear I'll do well in school, never curse, never break the law...

Of course they say beside me. I was sandwiched in between them actually. They were the multi-grain bread slices and I was the lettuce. You see, the rows were 5 X 6. Six seats going forwards, and five across. Of course, instead of sitting beside each other like they usually would, they decided to make me uncomfortable like this.

Well, now I'm not going to do well in school, I will curse, and I will definitely break the law.

Okay, maybe not that last one, but I'll follow through on the other two!

"Hey, can I borrow a pencil?" Chris asked from beside me, smirking. I turned to face him and his mop of hair.

"Can I borrow a comb?" I asked as if he actually owned one. His eyes narrowed at me before he turned and pulled out his own mechanical pencil from his binder. Dude.

"Do you have an extra pencil?" Liam asked from beside me, full on smiling. I almost shielded my eyes from his bright teeth, honestly.

"No, Jeremy has it." I huffed, facing the front. They left me alone for the rest of class and I was very thankful.

My last class of the day was P.E. I wanted to die to say the least. I was not an athletic person. In fact, if there was a contest for least coordinated, I'd win.

I changed into some track pants and a pink tank top that outlined my curves more than I'd want it to. I tied my blonde hair into a high ponytail before exiting the change room. I wished Macy and I had P.E together. Unfortunately, she's in some sort of AP P.E class, whatever that is. Unlike me, Macy was extremely good at sports.

I entered the gym and sighed as I noticed all four of the boys in the corner of the gym. I crossed my arms and walked over to the bleachers, taking a seat. Occasionally, one of them would look over at me and I started to feel a little self-conscious. Was my tank top too tight? Were my C-cups a little too compressed against my chest? Could you see my underwear lines through my pants? Were my shoes as ugly as I thought they were?

My shoes were sketchers, but hey, it's all I could afford.

I saw Tiffany making her way over to the boys in her spandex shorts and... Bra? There is no way that could be considered a shirt.

She started talking them up while twirling her vibrant red hair around her finger. She grabbed Jeremy's bicep and obviously complimented him on them as she squeezed them. I would've cringed if her attempts weren't successful.

The boys were all eyeing her boobs with gratefulness and lust. Wow, I bet for thanksgiving their prayers are like this: 'Dear Lord, I am thankful for all the ladies around the world with butt's like Nicki Minaj's and boobs like Tiffany Manchester's.'

I was to lost in my thoughts to notice a presence beside me. "Casey, right?" They asked me. I shook my head to bring myself back to reality.

"Yeah." I said, looking up at the boy. "Oh, hey James." I'm not going to lie, being around the boys does make me a tad nervous, but I try to cover it up as best I can.

"Mind if I sit?" He spoke, his voice deep like the ocean.

"Yes- wait no, sorry, that question always confuses me." I admitted sheepishly. He just grinned at me.

"So does that mean I can sit down or no?"

"Oh, sorry, of course you can sit." I blushed profusely and looked away shyly. He sat down and looked at me. I started to feel awkward so I decided to start a conversation.

"I thought you'd be enjoying Tiffany's company over there." I stated with a small laugh, watching her cross her arms over her chest to push up her already gigantic boobs.

"Oh, right. I have this rule: If her butt is bigger than mine, I'm not interested." He told me, causing me to laugh really hard. I swear I started to cry at some point.

Once I could breath, I said, "And you'd rather sit with me?"

"Well, yeah, I mean we've never really spoken before, but you seem pretty cool." He replied. I looked into his brown orbs, searching for a sign of deceitful intentions, but I found none.

"Why is your hair pink?" I blurted all of a sudden. It was an honest question though. Why die your hair pink when your jet black hair made girls dive at your feet?

"It's kind of personal." He answered, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

"Oh, sorry. It's okay if you don't want to tell me." I said, trying to console him. I saw that Liam would occasionally look over at us and I suddenly felt cynical of James being here.

"No, it's fine." James stated before taking a calming breath. "My mother died of breast cancer three weeks ago."

I gasped and looked at him, really looked at him. He did in fact look like something traumatic had happened recently. Losing your mother would definitely count as just that.

His appearance was quite dishevelled, though most people - including me, would just think that he was going for the 'I don't care' look. His clothes were fine, but his pastel pink hair looked like he'd just woken up and left it that way. He had a bit of black stubble growing along his face and his eyes... Well, even though he did a good job of hiding it, he was mourning for her. The sadness in his eyes made me want to hug him, but I hardly know so that would be kind of weird I guess.

Instead of showing him the sympathy that most people probably showed him, I gave him understanding.

His face was a mask of confusion, but he didn't have time to ask why I understood because Mme. Drinnan blew the whistle, signalling the start of class.

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I like this chapter, it makes me happy.

Question of the chapter: Who's your favourite parent? - Mother.