Old Friend

o2

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picture: alex (maia mitchell)

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Tubby.

Tubby.

Tubby.

It was my old nickname that he used to tease me all the time. The thought of him being back is haunting me. Did I ever do something wrong that I got this punishment? Was God punishing me for dyeing Kian's hair pink? Or what if it's because I turned down Tyler's invitation for the ball? That can't be it.

I don't deserve this and neither does he. He doesn't deserve talking to me after all of the things he's done to me. Does he think that he can suck it up to me and say all the sorry's in the world and I'd forgive him just like that? I don't think so. I've changed.

And as for me, do you really think I deserve this fate?

Tristan Carson, the guy who ruined me, is back for good. The person who made me suffer and changed me to something different. Bad different.

I wanted to cry at this point. I want to sulk in the corner of my room and cry, but that would break the promise I made to myself when I left New York. I felt like I was going to puke, as well as having a panic attack at the same time.

That's how bad it is.

I should be strong for my own sake. They said that your mistakes are a stepping stone to fixing them when they happen again. That only means that you should learn from your mistakes. I've learned from my mistakes long ago and left it behind.

This is completely absurd. I've talked to my old bully and he hasn't changed in one bit. Does he know that I studied here? Did he plan this all along?

My elbows were resting on my table while I buried my head in my hands, groaning quietly.

"Lara Forrest, instead of sulking there in the corner, would you share your thoughts with the class about our lesson?" Mr. Lambert interrupted my thoughts and laid the spotlight on me.

Wow, when I thought my day couldn't get any better. Mr. Lambert was my favorite teacher, but one of his traits was to do this all the time to anyone in this classroom. The term, "Teacher's pet", doesn't exist in his vocabulary.

Written on the board was everything that I needed to know about World War I and I took a deep breath, getting ready for what I was about to say. "Why is Germany being the one who's constantly getting blamed for everything? It's not their fault. Serbia and Austria-Hungary originally started the war, so why is it blamed on them? Not to mention, Serbia wasn't even in the war! It had other countries to fight for them!" I lashed out while all eyes were on me.

I sat back down in my seat. It's like I wasn't even ranting about the war, I was ranting about Tristan.

"That's true, Lara," He agreed. "But let me ask you one thing. what country started picking on others and declaring war against them?"

When I didn't respond, he said, "Germany. Although I agree with you on what you said. I'm just not sure if what you're saying is about the war itself and not about someone else."

The whole classroom was quiet. Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. "Class, eyes on me. Back to the lesson-" Mr. Lambert started getting their attention again when the door opened and everyone's eyes, even me, was on Tristan.

Great! This is the best day ever, huh? "Sorry. Got lost and went to a different classroom." He started to chuckle and everyone started to laugh. Except for me. I was eyeing him carefully, watching his every motive.

He planned this. He definitely planned this. "Looks like something died in here." He muttered, but since the whole place was quiet, everyone heard it.

By now, I was glaring into his soul. If only I could really shoot a dagger into him, that would be fun. Mr. Lambert cleared his throat and said, "Please introduce yourself to the class and sit down at the back of the girl wearing the white sweater."

I skimmed the whole classroom and I was the only one wearing a white sweater.

My luck has turned a complete 180. He caught my eye and smirked. "Hi, my name's Tristan Carson. I'm from New York and I like strawberry ice cream."

Another thing I hate about him. He likes strawberry ice cream while just the thought of strawberries make me puke. And he knows that. He's starting to fucking piss me off.

He's doing this on purpose. "Something wrong, Lara?" Caleb asked me and gave me a worried glance.

"Nothing." I gritted out. "Perfectly fine." I forced out a smile and gave it to him.

Of course there's something wrong. Tristan started walking towards me and I flinched in my seat, backing away. His presence annoys me, but it also scares the living shit out of me. He knows my weakness and I know he's not afraid to use it against me.

He was inches away from me and I'm sure he won't hurt me now. There's people here.

But that didn't stop him before right?

It's true. "Are you crying?" Tristan's voice interrupted my thoughts and I brought my hand to my cheek and felt my tears on it.

Shit, I didn't even notice I was crying. "G-Get away from me." I told him weakly.

Then the bell rang.

As fast as I could, I grabbed my things and went out the room before anyone else did. Thankfully, the crowd was starting to form in the hallways so Tristan didn't follow me.

I was becoming my old self again. Stuttering. Being vulnerable. Next thing I know is that I might come home crying like I used to before. I don't want that to happen again.

The girl's bathroom was where I went to. I took my pen out and started writing on the door.

Life is unfair. So fucking unfair.

"ALRIGHT! Lara Brittany Forrest, you better come out here now." Alex shouted.

I remained silent, crossing my fingers that she leaves soon. I brought my foot up and resting it on the door so she can't see it.

"You're my best friend for four years, Lara. I think I know where you go everytime you're upset." She chuckled lightly but soon knocked on the stall.

Opening the door carefully, I bowed my head. I looked like a disaster now. "Dear God." She muttered under her breath. "What happened to you?"

She led me out of the stall and I looked at myself in the mirror. I was becoming that girl again. That girl that I despised. The girl who's so weak that she couldn't even defend herself from her parents. The girl who's alone. The girl whom I left in New York.

My make-up was smudged and my hair was messed up. My eyes were puffy and red, as well as my cheeks. I couldn't even look at myself again. My pride's got me messed up. I'm ashamed. "The thing that I was telling you about earlier," I sighed tiredly. "Tristan's back."

"You mean that hot piece of ass during History?" She asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Not helping."

"Damn, then what's the plan now?" She cried.

That thought never occured to me. I was too busy being paranoid about the whole thing that I haven't even thought of getting my revenge. "I haven't thought about it yet."

"Are you kidding me? When my boyfriend breaks up with me, you're literally a walking criminal." She complained.

I wiped my tears away and looked down at my shoes. Speaking of boyfriends, I think I've got the perfect plan.

I started to smirk. "They say that heartbreak is the most painful thing to experience and what better way than to crush him is by making him fall for me." I said it slowly, grinning. The feeling of knowing that you're going to finally get your revenge after all of those agonizing years to someone is amazing.

Alex was silent but her face broke into a devillish grin. "When do we start?"

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a/n

Okay this sounds v evil