• This is part 5; If you have not, go back and read the other 4 before this one, please.

    Robert and I turn and head towards the school just to be frozen in our steps.

    Bobby: Get your a** away from Camille!
    Robert: Excuse me?
    Bobby: You heard me, a*****e. Get away from her!

    Crap! Crap! Crap!

    Robert: What did you call me?
    Bobby: Huff..


    Robert: -sigh-Camille, I don't have the energy to waste on your
    boyfriend, here, so I'm going to leave.
    Camille: He's not my...
    Robert: Thanks for allowing me to spend lunch with you. I hope
    to see you around.
    Bobby: Hey! I'm not finished with you!

    I watch in utter disbelief as Robert walks straight in the double doors, not caring
    at all about Bobby or this whole situation. What in the..?

    Okay, in the meantime, Bobby's ranting and raving like a spoiled little four
    year old who didn't get his Spider Man for Christmas. I would rather spare
    you, guys his excessive choice of words.

    Camille: Bobby, just shut up!...please.

    Shockingly, he obeyed. Aww, good pet. Ha Ha

    Bobby: Camille?

    Dang, I just hate it when he gets like this. I really don't want to even look at him
    because I know he has those puppy dog eyes. Instead, I speak to the grass.

    Camille: What, Bobby?
    Bobby: Why?

    I look up

    Camille: Why, what?
    Bobby: Are we really over?
    Camille: I have to go to class, Bobby.

    Do I actually sense emotion and care in his voice?

    Camille: See you later.

    I pat his chest as I walk past him.
    I mean, he cheated on me. Shouldn't I be upset?

    At this point, I really don't know what to do. I mean, there is no way Bobby
    can still have feelings for me. He cheated on ME!! And on top of that,
    he dated that girl for a while. So, I don't care. He can say whatever he
    wants to say...I'm going to be strong, and hopefully, I won't buy his act.
    I hope I have some Tylenol in my backpack, because my head is about
    to explode blood and guts all over these lip-locking teens.

    -opens locker and a note falls out-
    Camille: Hmm?
    Notes contents:
    Camille, I did not mean to cause more tension between
    you and your boyfriend. If I may, an apology needs to be
    given and accepted.
    P.S. Forgive me for my nosiness, but you can do so much better than him.

    ...I can do so much better than him? I am not dating him, anymore!!
    Okay, two more classes left. What's next?
    -retrieves schedule and unfolds-
    Ballroom dance? Geez, this school is getting weirder by the minute.
    -five minutes later-
    Where is the darn class?
    -major sigh-
    I had a semi-fight with my ex-boyfriend, I almost got the London guy
    pummeled to near death, I have a headache, I have to take a flippin'
    dance class, and I can't find the darn thing..
    Could this day possibly get any worse?

    -turns corner-
    Yes, found it.
    -taps on the door-
    Ah, you must be Miss Waters, correct?
    Camille: Yeah.
    That would be Yes, ma'am to you.
    Camille: Oh, yes, ma'am.

    This is Mrs. kingsmore. She is ultra pretty, but don't let the looks fool you.
    She has the nastiest attitude in the world. I guess having danced for
    twenty-five years really messes you up.

    Mrs. Kingsmore: Why are you late?
    Camille: I got lost.
    Mrs. Kingsmore: Well, I don't accept tardiness, young lady. Since today is
    the first day, I will excuse it.


    Mrs. Kingsmore: Come in, child.
    -walks in-
    Mrs. Kingsmore: I have already assigned partners earlier in the period.
    Luckily, we have one other student that is a single. Camille, for nine weeks, you will be assigned to dance as Mister Smith's partner.

    Oh, no...

    Camillel: I am going to be Bobby's partner for a whole nine weeks?
    Mrs. Kingsmore: Yes. Is that a problem?

    Ugh, sadly, I watched a few episodes of Dancing With the Stars. I have
    noticed that the guys get entirely too close and personal with the ladies.
    I mean, they touch, and grind and be all, 'luvvy duvvy.'
    This can't be happening.

    Mrs. Kingsmore: Miss Waters?
    Camille: I think I'm going to be sick.

    To be continued...