It Would Be My Guilty Pleasure

He Saw. He Definitely Saw

"Okay. Now that everyone is finally here, what happened out there?" Mrs Rayzel asked the five of us. Presley, Liam, Tristan, Trevor, and I were all currently sitting in the office. The guys let Presley and I take the two-seater bench (forcing Tristan and Liam to sit in a chair, both on either side of Trevor) Oh, the sacrifices the boys make for us. Anyways, Mrs Rayzel was the principal of West Dartwell High. And as far as I knew, she was pretty reasonable and well-liked. I wouldn't consider her mean exactly, but she was stern at appropriate times. Times like this one I guess.

"Well-" Trevor started. Presley laughed and cut him off.

"Excuse my manners." She starts, glaring hard at Trevor. "But there is now way in... heck that I am going to let him tell this story." Trevor muttered something and tilted his head back towards the ceiling dramatically. I just smirked as his hands fidgeted. He was nervous. I almost couldn't even believe it. Trevor Hilter was nervous. Scared even. I wasn't aware that he had enough heart to realize that he had clearly stepped over the line. It was his word against the four of ours. We have you now. I thought. In response to his mumbling Mrs Rayzel hushed him.

"Not now Trevor, Presley's talking." Like I said, that woman can spot a snake from a mile away.

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We all walked out of the office, smirking at Trevor who was asked to stay. Presley technically didn't do anything wrong, and Liam and I could blame our actions on self defense. Though Tristan was stuck with a week's worth of detention, we all considered this battle a win. He'll live. However, our victory was short-lived when Tristin ripped a copy of Gossip Guilty off a nearby locker. Crumpling it into a tight ball, he chucks it into the trash can. Presley glances at me as I glance back.

"We'll figure it out Tristin." Liam said, nudging his friend's shoulder. Yeah. I thought to myself. We have a lot to figure out Liam.

We all said our goodbyes and started heading to our classes. Ugh. I hate math.

Soon enough though, it was time for lunch. Depending on the mood I'm in, my attitude towards the hour wavers. I'm not going to lie, and you should stop lying to yourself as well. The occasional fights and hissy-fits that take place in the cafeteria are fun. Especially at West Dartwell, the tension between certain groups of people is overwhelming. Here's a quick rundown on the social status.

First up; the jocks. You know them. Trevor Hilter leads the goons, followed by Tanner Zendler and Alex Mairies. Those are the main three, but trust me there's more. Next is the pussy cats as we call them. They earn that name because that's what all of them try to sell, and trouble follows everywhere they go. When paired with the jocks, you better get out of their way. The head devil herself is none other than Hailey Ravenson. The girl is a heartthrob. Hailey drags around Marcie Bellows and Avery Lienals.

And then there was Kristie Webbers. Sucked into the pussy cats. If you ask me though, she's nothing like the other girls. She's kind and caring, not at all manipulative or deceiving. She's taken advantage of, but still refuses to leave. It's almost like she's tied with the girls, a curse that has yet to be broken. Anyways, the crackhead guys usually hang with the goth chicks, and the theater kids and nerds stick to themselves. And us? For some reason, the "it" crew doesn't seem to get that we want to be left alone. We have the nerves to fight back, and we somehow always end up in the middle of trouble. High school is kind of like a huge terf war. Any second, the cats will bail on the jocks or vise versa. And guess who will be there to take the blow? Spoiler alert. Us. It's always us.

The moment we step into the cafeteria, it falls silent. I look down at my shoes, hating the feeling of being stared at. Liam nudges my arm and whispers