Paris was sobbing. "No, please Bleu you don't understand-"
                          
"Let go of me!" Bleu yanked her sleeve away from Paris and she grabbed it again quickly, annoying Bleu. "I don't want to have anything with you!"
                          
"Babe?" a knock sounded at the door, Dean's voice muffled behind it. "You've been in there a while. You ok?"

                          
"Yeah," Bleu wrenched her arm away from Paris and looked at her with resignation. "I am now." She breathed hard, anger clouding her senses at the sight of the girl who made her question her value. 

                          
She turned to leave and felt a hand gently hold her wrist. Her heart stuttered at the smooth, light touch as she looked back at the brunette.

                          
"What?"

                          
"You're dating..." Paris swallowed, fear evident in her eyes. "Dean Collins? My... bully?" It shattered her heart to pieces, knowing that not only did Bleu have absolutely no care about her anymore, she was clearly moving on with the one guy that made Paris' life a living hell.

                          
Bleu took her arm away from the other one's hold, somehow needing distance. "Yeah, well he was there for me when you weren't."

                          
"O-oh," The brunette dropped her head. "I see." Then she grabbed her backpack and walked out, but not before whispering, "I'm sorry. You don't owe me anything. I'll stay out of your way." Just as quickly and as desperately as she wanted to talk to Bleu, she was indifferent and cold.
                          
She opened the door and stiffened when she saw the dirtied-up jock leaning against the frame. She rushed past him and he looked back at Bleu in surprise.

                          
"Was that Paris Carter?"

                          
"In the flesh," Bleu murmured, those tear-stained green eyes imprinted in her mind.

                          
________

                          
The next day, the school buzzed with the news. Paris "Farter" was back. And apparently a lot hotter. Some say she did it to get revenge. Others say she got stranded on an island and starved. The rumours were typical, but they all viewed her the same. Girls wanted to be her. Guys wanted her. Heck, even a few girls wanted her like that.
                          
Bleu didn't give a shit.

                          
So why did her heart skip a beat when she walked in her Physics class the next day and a certain brunette sat at the back? She was surprised Mr. Hobbs took in Paris at such short notice.

                          
Today those long, slim legs were encased in black skinny jeans, her toes painted maroon red and in delicate sandals. She wore a silk blouse, the soft fabric molding themselves around her curves and even hanging off her bra cups. Bleu wrenched her eyes away from her ex-best friend's very appealing chest area and took her usual seat at the front. What was going on with her? 

                          
Someone passed her a note and she opened it, silently groaning and rolling her eyes.

                          
Paris Carter got HOT mama. How are you still straight?
                          
-Brookie
                          
She turned in her seat to flip the short girl her middle finger and the latter's eyes widened, her hand covering her mouth as she laughed. As she did, she caught a glimpse of Paris, smiling. Her face was undeniably beautiful, and her smile made it all even more so. Those clear green eyes were red and tear-stained yesterday, and the mental image brought a small ache into Bleu's heart. To the point where it almost physically hurt and she had to subconsciously rub her chest to ease the pain.
                          
It was so unlike Bleu to flip the bird. She even swore this morning when her toes hit her kitchen counter. And she rarely ever swore.
                          
She knew it started when Paris came back into her life, but she had no idea why. She's not worth the distraction. Not when she was all I could think about this past year. Only Dean had made me forget.
                          
During the lecture, Bleu couldn't help but sneak a few glances behind her, mentally slapping herself every time.
                          
Paris' rich, mahogany hair was tied up in a ponytail, little wisps escaping to frame her face. Her green eyes twinkled as she laughed at something her seatmate said, and Bleu felt something tug in her. No, I'm not jealous.

                          
"O-m-g, Paris, you're practically my best friend!" an annoyingly high-pitched voice giggled and Bleu growled.

                          
She was mine first. Get your own human, Susan.

                          
She shut her eyes. What was she thinking? She slapped her for goodness' sakes. She knew without a doubt that Paris Carter hates her guts now and she knows she hated her in return. Those tear-stained eyes flashed through her mind again and she clenched her jaw at how much it affected her. God, even when she's already here she still haunts me. What is she, a ghost? I hate her. 

                          
Yeah, you should hate her, she thought to herself. She left you, remember? That's not a best friend. That's not something she would do. You thought you knew her? Think again. Even the best have endings.

                          
"Ok everyone, now pay attention. We will be having an experiment on Newton's Laws of Motion, and instead of using apparatuses," Mr. Hobbs paused for dramatic effect. "We'll be using our own bodies. So I will be choosing the partners."

                          
Bleu groaned inwardly. She really wasn't in the mood to be bumping and pressing her body against someone else for the sake of this stupid-
                          
"Bleu Ivy and Paris Carter."

                          
Oh, God no. Not this stupid cliche.
                          
Bleu groaned and hit her forehead on her desk. She felt like the entire universe was against her today. She wanted to avoid Paris at all costs, even if it killed her. Anger and pride were her two main ingredients to doing just that.
                          
We'll be using our own bodies. She remembered Mr. Hobb's words and she groaned out loud once more.
                          
Bleu Ivy and Paris Carter.
                          
What a fucking joke.