The Luckiest I've Ever Been

Who?

Sting's POV:

"STING OVER HERE!" A familiar voice was heard.
I grinned and ran toward one of my friends.

"What's up." gave a couple of high fives and bro-hugs to everyone. After the last person the bell suddenly rang, making the group laugh except for me.

"You always manage to come at the nick of time." Rufus said before tipping his hat then leaving towards the school.

"Not my fault that Lector won't go to sleep and keeps waking me up." I scratch the back of my neck in embarrassment.

Orga laughs and gets up, bag over his shoulder, "If some stranger heard that, they might think you can't win, against a cat." Then he bolted before I could give him a piece of my mind. Rogue rolled his eyes at us and followed him.

"DON'T YOU ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME!" I ran after them into school. Immediately I regret running in without a plan.

"STING!" Crap its the rabid, wild, savage, insane, wtf is wrong with them, fan girls.

Um hello?

Who are you?

I'm you stupid, now should you really be standing there?

Huh what do you mean . . . oh yeah

RUN YOU DIMWIT!

So I obeyed and ran as far away as I could, looks like I'm going to be late for class . . . again.

But isn't it better for you to be alive?

True, very true my life is important.

I ran into my class just as the second bell rang and the teacher stared me down.

She sighed,"Mr.Eucliffe that was the third time you were late for class today."

Sting might as well might have died right there and then at the teacher's glare. She pointed at the door and demanded for him to stay there until called.

I ran all the way here only to be punished, GREAT!

Just as I closed the door behind me, my crazy-insane-stalker-like-desprate-thirsty-fangirls-who-don't-look-like-they-love-but-like-they-want-to-kill-me senses were tingling.

Goddamit, guess I have to use the secret weapon.

SUPER FAST AF SANIC SPEED ACTIVATED GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!

Then everything just turned into a blurr around me, as I ran for my life.

Everything happened waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too fast and I can't remember much, but I do remember bumping and possibly knocking down someone. I don't know who she was though . . . how do I know the person was a she? I have met and seen every guy at Sabertooth high and not one of them have silver hair . . . someone could've dyed their hair, but I highly doubt they would also dyed their hair, sliver with a tint of light blue. And, I'm positive that no guy that I've seen before carries more than three textbooks with them . . . especially not five.

So after careful analyses of the database of the knowledge of people that I have in my head, I can conclude that I don't know this person, and I'm going to suffer from guilt for not saying sorry like the good child I am. If I don't suffer from that, she'll make me suffer.

Cue the flashback of scary af mom yelling at you because you never say sorry, thank you, please, excuse me, . . . , and other stuff that you're suppose to say, but you never do.

Never again with that nightmare, never again. So main thing to do in my life, apologize to that girl . . . problem detected.

Who is she?