Kat's POV

I angrily barged into the cafeteria; causing some terrified freshmen, whom were lingering by the doorway, to rush off a mile or so away from me like frightened rabbits.

I was pissed because Joey had pulled down my hair-band in class today. He sat behind me in freakin' English, and out of the blue untied my ponytail, causing my hair to flow down! What the hell gave him the right? When Mr. Morgan inquired him about that disgusting behavior, he merely said "Haven't you ever wondered what is so hideously bad about Kat letting her down for a change like all the other girls?"… As usual, all he got was a "Contain your curiosity, Chachie." And if I had done such a thing, what would I have got? Oh, I'd only have got kicked out!

I scanned the place for Mandella… I wanted to tell her that I got ahold of the tickets for club-skunk! Damn she's nowhere to be seen. Then something, or should I say someone, caught my eye. I scowled at some imbecile sitting at a table near the place I was standing. He looked like some kinda gangsta, what with his unruly hair and all. But what angered me was that he was bloody smoking! Smoking on school premises in the cafeteria where people sit and eat, for crying out loud.

Unable to resist the urge of saying something to him about this outrageous action, I approached the asshole.

"If you insist on ruining your own body, make sure you don't go destroying other people's too." I hissed, glaring at him.

He raised an eyebrow and turned to face me briefly before casually going back to puffing the wretched cigar.

"And the reason you give a shit about other people's health is because?" he asked indifferently.

I recognized his voice. He's the quiet guy in my English class. Patrick Verona. He doesn't speak unless he's forced to and skips half the time.

"When it comes to passive smoking, it's my business. Can't you read?" I pointed at the school rules board… rule number 15 read 'No smoking whatsoever on campus.' Not that I heed rules myself…

But his preppy-wannabe cohort Scurvy interrupted my interrogation by tapping me on the shoulder. I spun around to face him.

"This seat is reserved for me, you're blocking my way!" He drawled, gesturing to the chair across from Patrick in which I was standing right in front of.

"It's all yours," I huffed bitchily, stomping to the lunch line. Students literally had to wait here for ages just to grab some possibly toxic mush they apparently had a right to call food. I bet Mandella's dog Poochie's droppings taste better than that stuff.

I glanced once more at Patrick's table, but it was vacant. So much for the 'reserved' seat. Then my so-called sister and her troops merrily occupied the table instead. A bunch of admirers surrounded them to chat them up. I sighed wearily. It's a cruel world, where people admire you only for your selfishness. Think about it, what do athletes do for you? Apart from fifteen minutes of entertainment, nothing! They play sports and only their body fitness benefits. Yet everyone loves them. And 'geeks'? Geeks are who invented electronics, they are the reason miracles like television exist! Yet does anyone heed them with any admiration, as they do ditsy/beautiful/athletic people? Not even close to an ounce. It's an unjust world.

It happened during these train of thoughts. I felt something smarmy making its way up my leg. So I looked down to see what the hell it could be. A hand. I was being groped! Without even thinking, I lifted my foot up with the utmost force and kicked the pervert right in the balls!

It was Bobey Ridgeway, the dude who attends Art Textiles & Photography with me. He yelled at the top of his lungs, clutching his crotch. I smiled triumphantly, sending him brain waves 'Next time think twice before taking me by surprise, hmm?'

The cafeteria had gone silent as everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the scene with fascination. And with remorse I noticed some people eyeing me with intimidation. Great, something new to gossip about. And further proof on how frightening my presence is.

Next thing I knew, a teacher had come running up to me, berating. All I kept repeating in defense was "I was provoked." The nurse conveyed Bobey out of the place.

Off to Miss Perkey's office, for the fiftieth time this year.

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