"Must we go before school? I am late to class way to often! My mom is beginning to realize that I am in need of some stronger punishment," I argued as Riley sharply cut the next turn. I was thrown to the side, seatbeltless because my backpack added another body to the chair. It's a wonder some whackjob ever let Riley lay a finger on the wheel, much less allowed her to drive legally. That's like inviting Freddy Krueger over for a sleepover.

"You- shush," Riley said, scoffing, "Just sit back and envision the faces of his schoolmates when they see what you've done." She threw in a Muahaha. All this evil laughing was getting to me. I was actually starting to feel guilty for my crimes. Was this taking it too far? Would his badly damaged reputation leave a permanent scar that could essentially ruin his life?... Nah.

We rounded a little grove of trees. The high school was right in front of us, in all its glory, students flooding into the building, buses hissing, cars honking. We pulled into a lousy parking spot furthest from the school and cut the engine. Riverton High... This is uncharted territory here.

I slammed the door shut, earning a glare from Riley. Oh, sorry, didn't mean to damage your precious sports car. You poor poor thing. Riley flipped her hood up, as to conceal her beauty from the crowds of bypassers. She was guaranteed to draw attention otherwise.

The school was bigger than ours, and much louder. Hallways looked like they extended miles long, and the unfamiliar people lurking about set me on edge. Riley and I brushed arms, as if quietly saying I'm here for you bro.

"Be on the lookout for those band members you met. A friend of mine told me the society of good looks and large egos lies in the core of the school, near the stairs. Lets head over there." We started at a steady pace, my eyes darting through the faces, looking for any features I could recognize. It was a good thing Riley was here to talk me through this. I probably would've chickened out by now. No, I'm positive I'd have chickened out.

A couple minutes passed of aimless wondering. I was fretting on the inside, knowing we'd never find him among all these people, even if he was praised by every single one of them. Me and Riley exchanged a look, displaying the hopeless mutual feeling. She turned to the nearest girl and smiled, eyes brightening.

"Do you know where Jaxon Bennett hangs out? I'm trying to find him." The girl was small and petite, with brown hair and jealous eyes. But she answered all the same.

"In the mornings, he usually is by the stairs. They're down this hallway to the left...." She said with a touch of insincerity. Riley thanked her quickly and picked up her pace. We turned the corner and both saw the gray staircase beckoning our way. And there they were.

All of his other band members, plus a couple more competitors, were lounging in a group closed off from other human life. Everyone else naturally kept a two foot radius from their gang. We cautiously got nearer, blending with the other ladies flocking around them. Disappointment settled in. He wasn't with them.

"He's not there." I sighed, tapping on my leg with impatience. Don't even tell me we came all this way for nothing.

"Okay, well, we'll just stay here until he.... oh Oh OH!" All at once, she pulled me back behind some people. I searched the bodies, trying to find him. Then I saw, along with every other student with eye range. Something some would consider beyond reality.

Jaxon pushed through the crowd, but before long, they had created an aisle for him to walk down. Well, more like trudge. The boy had steam coming off of him. Who could blame him? His hair was a thick tuft of the purest white.

I had no idea it was going to come out that blonde! Riley and I intinctively covered our mouths, knowing we were on the verge of a full blown laugh attack. He reached his friends and started mumbling something, trying to act casual. They stare at him blankly, unresponsive, all eyes on that hair.

"Dude, what did you do?" one of them finally said. Jaxon grumbled, keeping his eyes low. Getting a closer look, you could make out the sparkles gleaming as the light catches it. I cracked up behind my hand, at the same time trying not to attract others interest.

"It's nothing," He muttered, shoving a hand in the pocket of his jeans.

"Nothing?? Dude, you're hair is white." Another guy chided. A look of anger flared in Jaxon's face, and he suddenly stood straighter, giving him a chilly glare. The other boy shrunk a little, probably knowing how Jaxon tended to be when he felt provoked, and what he was capable of.

"Yes, I am aware of that. Say another word about my hair and I'll dent your face," He spat, his hands clenched into fists. The blonde one I remember from yesterday shuffled closer to him.

"First the picture, and now this?" He said softly, but loud enough that his friends could here, "What's going on with you man?" Jaxon looked down, not responding. The bell interrupted their confrontment. People slowly lost interest as seconds ticked by, the hallways slowly returning to full motion. Riley tugged on my arm, and we bailed the scene, wearing kooky smiles and laughing like hyenas. Time well spent, if I do say so myself.

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I dragged my feet into class, hovering by the door for a minute or two until someone saw me through the rectangle window.

Mrs. Baggot was sitting in her desk, hawk-eyeing her pupils as they racked their brains for the answers to those dang bell ringers. I blushed when the majority of the class glanced up from their work at my arrival. Yes, I'm late; It's none of your beeswax. I handed Teach the tardy slip and retrieved a slip of paper, clambering over to my desk in the back row. She was a really nice lady, truly, she just didn't know the meaning of mercy when she quizzes us on things she forgot to imbue. And, well, Baggot is an unfortunate name, especially when you're not particularly adored by your students. You don't have to be very creative to come up with that one.

Just as I suspected, the questions were bizarre. This couldn't possibly be eleventh grade history, even if it was honors. I hoped I wasn't the only one staring vacantly at the small letters printed on the whiteboard. Once I had decided on a fairly decent answer, I unzipped my backpack and reached down to the depths to find a pencil. Whoa, is there mold growing down here? Yikes, I didn't even know that was possible!

My hands finally closed around my weapon of choice. I rose my hand and set the pencil down, then doubletaked. There was something large. And Furry. On. My. Hand.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!" I shrieked, whipping my hand around in the air. The shock caused me to stand up, moving my desk three or so inches with me. The whole entire class gasped, all ogling me, but this time I didn't care. No Siree. I have to get this thing off me.

I looked back at my hand, relieved to see the disgusting creature was no longer residing on my skin. My heart was drumming in my ear, and I tried to breath, let some oxygen back into my lungs. That's when the real bloody murder screaming started.

"GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!!!" Patricia yelped, tears slowly pooling from her eyes. The furry ball of fun had come right off me and clung to her hair. A boy whose name I did not know swatted it out of her golden locks, causing it to land on the floor where it could reach anybody. The damsel in distress fanned herself, her life evidently flashing before her eyes. The massive tarantula began to crawl around, exploring the boundaries of it's new home. This lead to chaos.

"Somebody grab it already!" Mrs. Baggot screamed, finally accepting her classroom was beyond orderly fashion, "Tyson! Get it! It's right underneath you!" The locally known football star shook his head, fear causing him to tremble. Everyone took refuge on top of their desks, seeking higher ground. When I knew I couldn't take it anymore, I covered my eyes, wanting more than anything to wake up in my safe, quiet room, under my warm flowery covers. Okay Bayley, stay sharp. You caused this mess, now would be a great time to fix it.

One look at the cluttered teachers desk and I knew exactly what to do. No time to think it through. I raced out of my chair, unloaded the mug full of pens by her laptop, and plopped it over the beast. There was a moment of silence.

Then, a beautiful calm settled in the room. I couldn't tell if I was in shock; things like this just don't happen here at Hillcrest High. But it didn't take long for me to realize the reason behind this mess. Or for the shock to transform into full-fledged fury.

Jaxon Flippin Bennett, you have crossed the line. I would insert a string of colorful swear words here, but I'm better than that. You are so going to pay for that one.

"Who is responsible for this?" Mrs. Baggot huffed, her face redder than a Tahitian sunset. I rose my hand, my own face flushing. The whole class of 27 gave me murderous looks. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I lacked an explanation. Who keeps tarantulas in their backpack? All the cool kids do these days. No biggie.

"Save your excuses for the principal." I got up and left without putting up a fight. Under normal circumstances, I might have been crying out of embarrassment or whatever. But when you are filled to the max with a passionate desire to execute, surprise! Zero tears.

So I sat clammed up in that little office, offering up dumb excuses to plead my case, all the while letting my mind drift to plan my next attack.

This chapter wasn't my favorite, but please tell me what you think of it! You're feedback means more than you know :P Vote and Comment, all that jazz.