But Seriously. [o1] I Hope Something Eats You.

"What's he doing here?" I hissed, glaring across the dance floor at the gorgeous boy who had just walked in. His jet black hair fell into his face and his icy blue eyes scanned the room. His lips, the bottom right side pierced twice, curled into a scowl as his gaze landed on me. "Damn."

Jenna Lanky, an acquaintance of mine, rolled her eyes. "Emma, don't be so dramatic. It's a public party for everyone who graduated. You shouldn't be so surprised."

It took some effort to ignore her snide tone. In the two years that I'd known Jenna, I'd never really liked her. I'd hardly been able to tolerate her and I had no idea why she tolerated me. We clashed like oil and water.

Zoe Stone - my cousin and best friend - ignored her, too. "Uh oh. Blaine's dragging him over. Oh, look! Ace is with him. Oh... And Bryce." She sighed glumly.

Ace and Bryce Talbot were twins; thankfully, though, not identical. Ace kept his golden blond hair chin-length, the tips dyed red, while Bryce kept his short and close to his scalp. Ace had his eyebrow pierced and barbed wire tattooed around his wrists, while Bryce wouldn't let anything sharp ten feet near him. Ace was the strong silent type, Zoe and I believed, who kept to himself mostly and didn't bother too many people. Bryce was actually a bit of a jerk and was almost always drunk. We had no clue how he'd managed to make it out of high school with the rest of us. Seriously.

Whatever. I could contemplate Bryce Talbot's obvious alcohol addiction later. I currently had to worry about Blaine Rivers, who was dragging a very reluctant Tucker Stryke this way.

I crossed my arms over my chest. Blaine was okay; really. I had no problem with him having a visit with us. His dark, tinted blue hair was a medium length and always managed to fall into his green eyes. Aside from being attractive, from what I could tell by talking to him occasionally he was a pretty nice guy.

Tucker Stryke, however, was not.

He was gorgeous, I'll admit. Tucker was at least a foot taller than I'd ever be, and slightly tanned. He had an athletic build and calluses from playing his guitar a little too often. But even with his good looks he wouldn't be winning my vote for Person of the Year.

Tucker made Scar from The Lion King look like a fluffy tabby cat.

"Hey, girls." Blaine grinned toothily at me. There was already a beer in his hand and I tried to restrain from letting my lip curl in disgust. "You look nice in that dress, Emma."

"Thanks, Blaine." I smiled slightly at him. This dress was one of my favorites, and I was getting pretty uncomfortable in it with the way Blaine was looking at me. "Hey, guys."

Bryce nodded in my direction before heading over to the refreshments table, Blaine following him. Ace lifted a hand and gave a slight wave to us, remaining silent. And Tucker...

Tucker was Tucker, of course. "Yo, Ems." His voice was velvety. "Missing something?"

I narrowed my eyes to the point where they were mere slits. "What do you mean, Tucker?" I was instantly paranoid. He had something of mine? What, exactly, was I missing? I racked my mind, thinking and tallying up everything I owned.

He smirked, knowing automatically the effect he had on me. "You expect me to tell you? Now, where's the fun in that, Ems?"

"Don't call me 'Ems', Tucker. I hate that." I hissed at him. "What the Hell did you take?"

"Pssh. You love it when I call you 'Ems'."

I felt my blood boil. I closed the space between us and stabbed him as hard as I could in the chest with my finger. "You know what, Tucker?" I spat out at him. "I hope something eats you. I hope something big and dangerous that won't even chew you up eats you!"

He smirked wider, but before he could make a comeback Ace elbowed him. "Dude." Ace said in his soft, quiet voice. Tucker sighed, shrugged, and closed his mouth. Ace usually came to my rescue where Tucker was involved. Thankfully.

Tucker smirked slightly again, just as they were walking away, before tossing my favorite pen to me.

Ugh.



Once-upon-a-time, I was a pretty adorable little kid. At the age of four, I had curly hair that was almost always in pigtails, slight freckles across my pale nose, those chubby cheeks most kids have, always wore frilly dresses. Every day was pretty much the best day ever. You know the drill.

And then Tucker freaking Stryke moved in next door.

He constantly tried to make me eat bugs, threw my favorite toy - a stuffed elephant my older brother had gotten me when I was born - into the dirt, and pulled my hair. Every chance he got.

I, of course, am not the type of girl to just ignore things and walk away. I retaliated - by hiding his toys, pulling his hair, and screaming in his ear. Every chance I got.

Now that we're older, though, things have pretty much not gotten any better. We're always pushing each other down the steps leading into and out of the school building, putting gum in each others desks, and taking each others things.

I'm sure you can see why his mere presence makes me paranoid.

So, really, from past experiences with Tucker Stryke, I should have said no when he asked me to dance about an hour later. I should have just walked away from him. Really.

But, of course, I didn't. Because I am, apparently, insane.

And, because of past experiences with Tucker Stryke, I shouldn't have been surprised when, after dancing with me for a minute or two, he somehow managed to squirt this ugly brownish red colored ink from out of a water gun onto my dress.

"What is this now?" Tucker's voice was highly amused in my ear as I breathed deeply, trying to see straight. I was now so angry that I saw spots. "About... score 1,573 for me? Ha. See ya, Ems. And thanks for the dance." He turned to walk away from me.

He didn't get very far. While he'd been enjoying my annoyance and anger at his newest win on me, I'd been unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

Oh, yes.

I smirked as he began to walk away...

And nearly tripped as his pants slid down, revealing his bowers. Which, by the way, were patterned with dinosaurs.

"I guess that makes that about... score 1,574 for me, then, Tuck." My smirk grew as he narrowed his eyes at me.

After clapping his hands slowly, about three times, he pulled his jeans back up to his waist. I tried to ignore the fact that more than a few of the girls around us deflated in disappointment and went back to whatever they were doing before. "Nice one, Ems. But don't worry. I'll get you back."

My smirk faltered slightly.

Wonderful. Welcome back, Paranoia.