Forewarned about the rumours going around, I have prepared my heart and mind. My plan is very simple: keep my head down and don't answer questions. Hopefully that would get me through the day without raising too many eyebrows.

Who am I kidding? I'm walking with crutches and my bandaged leg is very visible despite my skirt length. It's like I have a tramp stamp on my forehead!

Anywho, I'd still stick to my plan.

Mum drops me off at school, crutches and all, with the strict instruction to call her if something goes wrong. We haven't necessarily been on speaking terms ever since she gave me an ultimatum: love or her. Okay, it's not like we haven't been speaking. She brings me breakfast, lunch and dinner and checks up on me routinely, but the atmosphere isn't as lively as before.

Dare I say, things are tense and Sophie has noticed it too. However, Sophie being the way she is, has probably made up her mind that it's best not to comment on it because she believes we would resolve whatever it is that is going on. I'm not mad or angry at her, far from it really, but I can't tell if the feeling is mutual.

Things have been weird in the Jones' household and the sooner I got out there, even if it's for a few hours, the better.

I step into the hallway, leaning the weight of my right foot on the crutches, Paris is right beside me holding my tote bag and all chatter stops.

It is a scene straight out of a movie.

I have no idea what they're thinking. Are they shocked to see I'm alive? Are they relieved that Mariah wasn't full of horseshit after all? Is there something on my face?

The initial shock turns into whispers in a nanosecond as Paris and I saunter to my locker, uneasiness creeping into my skin. Contrary to popular opinion, I do not like to be the centre of attention. Sure, I may be popular by default because Jason is popular and we are 'Tom and Jerry', but I'm not an attention seeker. That's Mariah's job. Moreso, I do not like to be the object of discussion at Adelaide.

Maybe I should have just stayed home.

''I told you they were talking,'' Paris whispers as I put a few books and writing materials in my tote bag. ''Seriously, they need to let it go.''

I sigh, ignoring the loud whispers. ''It's high school, Paris. They won't let it go anytime soon, not after they know what they know.''

Or at least, what they think they know.

''Well well, if it isn't the head bitch of this school. You're finally back from the dead,'' a snarky voice comments. I slam my locker shut, wincing at the impact it makes. I don't even need to turn around to see who it is. I can smell her signature perfume, probably some expensive Chanel brand that makes you want to choke on your own saliva.

''There's only one head bitch here and that's you, Mariah,'' Paris answers for me. I finally turn around and she has her arms crossed on her chest. Mariah, clad in her altered school uniform and school sweater gives her the stink eye with her fake lashes. Her blonde hair looks extra long today and I wonder if she got extensions.

''Mariah, not today,'' I answer with resignation. I'm really not in the mood to fight today. Between the pain and the gossip and the stares I got once I stepped into Adelaide, I have patience the size of a mustard seed.

''I just wanted to say welcome back to school,'' she says, but I know the welcome is fake. It's written all over her face. ''We missed you.'' Liar.

''Thank you, Mariah.'' I answer politely.

Can she leave already?

''Although I find it strange that you suddenly had an accident,'' her eyes move to my bandaged leg and crutches. ''I heard something funny in the news the other day. It stated that there was a shooting at Lakedale road. Lakedale isn't far away from where you live now, is it?''

How does she even know where I live?!

Paris' eyes glaze over at me in panic but I remain calm. Keep your head down and don't answer any questions. ''What is more interesting is that they said a teenager was found near the scene, probably injured. I wonder WHO it could be.''

Per usual, a crowd has already formed around us, the hallway as dead silent as when I first arrived. I roll my eyes at her insinuation. Mariah is far from being dumb, and even though her insinuation is correct, it's not her business. ''Don't you have better things to do than make up shit that isn't true, Mariah?''

''I'm not stupid. You're the liar here.''

I haven't confirmed or denied anything.

''Mariah, leave me alone while I'm being nice. Just because I'm on crutches,'' I motion to the wooden material. ''doesn't mean I can't destroy you with a single sentence.''

''I'd like to see-''

''That's enough, Mariah,'' I hear a deep voice say from behind her. I look over her shoulder and realize it is Jason that cut her off. He glazes over to my crutches with a frown on his face and another expression that I can't seem to pin point.

Is that anger?

I hate to admit it, but I missed him so much. I missed his eyes. I missed our dynamic. I missed his lips-

Oh no.

''Jay Jay,'' Can she not call him that. He's not two. ''I was just welcoming Melody back to school since it's been a while since we saw her.'' She moves her lashes repeatedly and smiles up at him. He doesn't smile back, but instead has his eyes are trained on me. I try to look at anything but him, but it's hard not to. His eyes have such a magnetic force that I can't pull away. I don't even want to because…

Well, I don't know.

The bell rings and that bring us back to reality. The crowd that had once formed starts to disembark, each student trying not to be late for class. Paris clears her throat as a signal for us to leave and a switch turns on in my brain.

I'm in school. I have class. I need an education. I don't need boy drama.

Without warning, Jason side steps Mariah and grabs my bag which had fallen on the floor during the altercation with Mariah. He also carries the books that have been neatly arranged in my locker, walking in the direction of Mr Jamerson's class and my jaw slacks open.

Scratch that, three of our jaws slack open.

Did he just…in front of Mariah?!

Oh my God!

.........…

Classes, more classes, extra classes, and more homework for me to do since I haven't been in school for a week and I need to catch up. I really should have stayed at home. I would have avoided the stares. I would have avoided Mariah. I would have avoided Jason.

Why did he defend me? In front of Mariah no less?

He literally carried my bag and my books and placed them on my desk much to the shock of everyone. I thought I was going to get a locked jaw just by how much my mouth has draped open within the span of twenty minutes. Mariah came in to see him arranging my crutches, letting them rest on the wall. Another gesture that shocked me and probably everyone to the core. Jason has been nice to me before, he saved me from Khalil, but this is next level. In the Khalil situation, his gesture wasn't in front of everyone, but this display in front of everyone is weird in a good way.

And I like it. I like it a lot. I don't care why he did it, but it brought back all the flutters I had in my belly when he tried to kiss me on three occasions. I even had to suppress a smile when I saw the horror on Mariah's face.

Life is funny that way. Last year, I was boyfriend-less and swore off men till I graduated. Now, I have a boyfriend who has been MIA and a guy who has tried to kiss me…thrice.

I feel like a character from those cheesy telenovelas that Grandma Maggie indulges in. The heroine has a boyfriend already but there's this other guy, the side guy, as Grandma calls it, who is head over heels in love with her. As the show progresses, the side guy becomes the heroine's main love interest and despite the obstacles they face, they have a happy ending and ride off to the sunset.

Am I starring in a real life telenovela?

''What are you smiling about?'' Paris asks as we pass by main street, heading to our favourite restaurant-The Crab Shack. After the day I had, I need food in my system.

''Nothing.''

''Don't tell me you're thinking about you know who,'' she adds, her hands poised on the steering wheel. If she weren't driving, I'm pretty sure she would've wiggled her eyebrows. Maybe she's doing it now.

''Okaaaaaaay,'' she replies in a sing-song tone, totally not believing me. ''If you say so.''