Miles was worn down by the previous day's activities. He'd come back from an exhausting day at school, had another round of exhaustion from work, and was exhausted as he got home. He could've sworn he passed out on the couch and just wished he wouldn't wake up. But wake up he did, and just in time for the alarm clock upstairs to go off. Slowly lifting his head from the couch, where a blanket was spread across his body which he could've sworn was his mother -- it was impossible that his sister could've even lifted a finger to do something nice like that. At least, that was what he'd thought. But these thoughts were trivial to him. Shaking these thoughts off, and wiping off the spit that had partly soaked the part of the sofa he slept in, he got off the sofa, made his way upstairs to turn the alarm off before marching his way into the bathroom, hoping to get a refreshing shower. Instead, what he got was a younger sister attempting to shave her legs. Luckily though, she didn't even let the razor touch her legs yet as this was her first time and really quite hesitant to do so too.

"Ya know," he started, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he watched the surprise rack through Jane as she immediately turned around, dropping the razor onto the floor. "That's my razor. Your leg could get infected if you cut yourself. And besides, what the heck were you doing?"
"I was trying to shave my legs!" she groaned, a frown coming onto her features as she looked at her older brother with her stink eye. "Like those other girls at school."
"Jane, you're eleven. Girls like you, they don't shave their legs yet."
"Oh, yes they do."
"No they don't. Okay, there are. But if you wanna look like a whore, then be my guest. I ain't the one lookin' out for you here. Mom is."

Jane immediately groaned and sighed at her brother, just dropping whatever she was doing and going out of the bathroom, much to his pleasure. He picked up his razor and with a gentle clean of it and some shaving cream, the eighteen year old was shaving his face, his facial hair, well, grown in the night. His blonde bedhead hair was sticking out in all different directions, but that was easily solved thanks to a shower and breakfast. He set off not too long after to school, where Andrea, his head cheerleader girlfriend and the guys from the soccer team were. At school, he wasn't treated like trash. He was one of the kings of the hierarchy. Popular, good-looking, dating the hottest girl in school. What more could he want? Well, nobody really knew he wanted nothing more than to get away from it all. And all because of a certain girl in several of his classes. One who apparently hated his guts.

"Miles!" a certain brunette called out, her long brown locks bouncing along with her as she ran up to him and practically tackle-hugged him, wrapping her arms around his upper half. To this, Miles could only give a chuckle, a sweet hug back and a kiss on the forehead, taking her by the waist as they walked in the direction of the school, which wasn't too far away. He could've sworn that in that moment, he was fine. The day seemed to start off well. He saw his girlfriend early in the morning today with a big smile on her face and what seemed to be her 'good news' face, something which both bothered him and delighted him at the same time. If it was something about her and the girls, it was delight. If it was about him, it was mild annoyance and a bad day throughout. It was nothing really. He just didn't like being the subject of majority of the female population at his school, most especially if it was from Andrea.

"Hey, babe," he greeted her with a slight chevalier air as he pulled her closer to him, the school just being several steps away from them. Giving a contented sigh as she snuggled up to Miles, two particular girls caught her eye. No, three. Three girls. The third one was a particularly strange, weirdo blonde, as she knew her to be. In Andrea's mind, she was nothing, even if she did have that posh car that she'd always wanted her daddy to buy her. If she didn't click with the popular crew immediately, she was immediately put on their blacklist, and well, she was blacklisted in her eyes. Miles's girlfriend turned into the stereotypical queen bee as she approached two of her girlfriends and gave them their own cheek-to-cheek greetings as they practically laughed after just spending a minute with the two.
"Mikki, Taylor, oh my gosh, you'll never believe what just ha--" she said, then being cut of with Erin's 'distracting' presence.
"Oh. My. Gosh. Look at her, girls, she's so... Ugh. She's so not meant to be like us."

An evil smile crept onto Andrea's face with a certain idea popping up in her calculating head, looking at the girls and them seemingly giving her an understanding look, almost as if they'd mentally communicated their intentions.

"Come on, girls. We've got a job to do," she said walking toward Erin flanked by her girls, and gave Erin a simple tap on the shoulder.
"You know what, whatever your name is," Andrea said flicking the sleeve of Erin's shirt with a long, slender finger distastefully. "That outfit looks sooo last two decades. And if you're gonna decide to flaunt around in your... Whatever you call that clown getup, I'd suggest that you'd stay away from us. Loser."
Noticing the necklace, she eyed it with fascination and looked at Erin slyly, giving the necklace a touch.
"Mind if I borrow this?" she said, then yanking it off her neck with an evil laugh. Once she'd gotten what she wanted, she walked away with a "thanks" and totally ignored Miles, who'd seen the entire thing.

He tried to get near Erin for some time now, but it just wouldn't work. She'd rebuff him with harsh words, ignore him completely, give him death stares, and he didn't even know what he'd done wrong that made her feel that way towards him. But this time, he'd try not to avoid her as he'd done those other times before when she wanted him to buzz off.

"I... I'm sorry for Andy taking your necklace and all," he started awkwardly, his face full of seriousness, but awkwardness at the same time. "I promise I'll get it back for you."

He then immediately walked away from Erin before she could have a chance to say anything back. He didn't need any other bull today. He just needed to clear his head as he saw another one of his guys bully another helpless bottom-of-the-social-foodchainer.

The look on Erin's face as he turned back surprised him greatly. In fact, what shocked him more was that she was even talking to him. He thought that she'd hated his guts. He thought that she didn't ever want to see his face. Every time he passed by Erin, he questioned himself if he really deserved to be on top of the school's social hierarchy. He couldn't pass by anywhere without getting kissed in the ass first, or followed around by a bunch of girls wishing they were Andrea Maria Cortez. And yet here he was, talking to a member of the lower social scale. A 'yeah' was all he uttered back, followed by a brief "See you in History" before he went inside the school building with butterflies in his stomach, a flush on his face that quickly disappeared and a countenance that quickly returned to his usually calm and collected state, off to meet the guys from the team again before classes.

He had no idea how and why Erin Hargreaves made him feel that way. He couldn't even concentrate on his game much less go about everyday if she was in his thoughts. Maybe it was something about her that just... Stood out from the rest. He didn't know, and he didn't understand yet. But one thing was for sure -- he would try to understand why. It was all too confusing.

He tried to ignore the feeling of embarrassment as he sat there after having turned back from glancing at Erin. Maybe he shouldn't have entered the room at that time. Maybe he should've just stayed outside until everyone crowded around the door arch to get in. But that was something he hated to do in the mornings. Mrs Harding was going to excuse him for sure, since he was out, but Mrs Harding also had a habit of not excusing absentees from missed quizzes and such, so he had to catch up as much as possible. The page he was on right now was something about the French Revolution. Bastille, Louis XVI, sans-culotte... All of that. Sighing as he was stuck near the end of that part of the book, he hesitantly got up and slowly approached Erin as her head was ducked onto her history book, and gave her a gentle tap.

"Erhm... Erin... What was the last thing you guys took up?" he asked in a sort of awkward voice. "Uhm... It's okay if you don't answer. I'll... Err... Just leave you alone now."

The hit came just as unexpectedly to Miles as it did to Erin. It didn't hurt, no, but it did startle him a bit. He didn't even stop to notice the small red mark on his skin that the hit left. Erin seemed okay just reading the book but when he lightly tapped her, she seemed jumpy for some odd reason. He noticed the embarrassed blush on her face and couldn't help but think what he did wrong to make her feel that way. Miles tried to get back to business, having only approached Erin to ask a question. Was that the only reason, however?

"No sweat," he said, rubbing it a bit before letting go of the part. "I would've thought it was because of what happened this morning... Or what I said... But anyway. Reign of terror. Got it," he said, trying to smile but ending up with an awkward smirk instead. "T-thanks."

"So you think you've got it bad? I've had more than enough ingrates in anyone's entire lifetime come through my life than yours, so don't you ever go down that path," he angrily, and silently, hissed at her when she came back from passing her homework. "And yes, I would've said 'you're welcome' back, but..."
For some strange reason, Miles had stopped. He gave himself a mental slap, thinking that what he'd been doing was so stupid all along; he'd almost let out his own little secret about her. Squinting his eyes just to get rid of any sort of rage that might've been pent up inside, he finally let go and stopped squinting. He let out a deep sigh and opened his eyes to look at Erin properly.
"Nevermind," he sighed. "You'd never understand anyway."

"Miles? Why weren't you at class the other time?" Mrs Harding asked.
"I was out sick," Miles replied in a polite tone of voice. "Did I miss a lot?"
"No, not really. I gave them an essay to do. You can pass yours tomorrow."
"On what, Mrs H?" he asked.
"Oh. Bastille."
"Thanks."

"King of the school? You must be joking. You actually believe I got here just by walking in and taking the spot for myself? You think I just marched in and declared my position? No. I was once like you. I had it worse than you. School books I could pick up myself. Did you ever come home with bloody shirts, broken noses and bones, a scarred mentality, only to have fucked up parents kick dirt in your face and get mad at you for not doing the chores or not being good enough or just being drunk assholes? Huh? I bet you still have it good, a good family, a good home, and you don't even have to work for the clothes on your back. Here, it don't matter. It's just how you're gonna feel like out there. No one's gonna bow down to you when you get kicked out into the streets."

Miles felt pure annoyance towards this girl. What he felt when he was around her was like a million little butterflies in his stomach, but when she spoke to him, it felt like a million bees. This girl shoved reality back into his face and she didn't even know a single bit about how it hurt. Even as she was asking why he didn't say 'you're welcome' properly, it was like being kicked in the stomach. Why would he tell her now? She wouldn't even believe him, much less listen to him. Sighing dejectedly, he gave her a severe look and said "you're welcome" flatly, with a tiny hint of an irate tone.

"What? You happy now?" he said with angst in his voice before he turned back to read whatever was in his history book. Luckily, Fred had come in and sat right next to Erin, clearing off the tension between the two teenagers. It diverted Miles's attention away from his anger at whatever Erin had said and only smirked at the guy before turning back again. Miles felt a tapping sensation on his shoulder, however, and he turned back surprised.

"I told you that she wasn't," Fred whispered.
"It was worth a shot," Miles whispered back defeatedly. He never wanted to argue, but it was unavoidable.