Paulo rode his bike briskly to school the next day, having overslept, again. If the teachers didn't give him so much homework that he blatantly disregarded, then perhaps he'd get a better night's sleep! Perhaps he could be a better student if the work wasn't so mind numbing repetitive. Also David decided to pop in for a little visit, which may or may not have contributed to his lack of scholastic achievement. Regardless of the reason, he was going to be late if he didn't hurry.

Fortunately there was little to see that morning, the normal houses painted their normal colors, the normal streets made of their normal asphalt, the normal birds chirping. It was a pretty average day in Roseville and somewhere that comforted Paulo after his tempestuous last week. He yearned now for how things used to be, and the thought brought him back to better times, those with less drama. In fact, he just let his mind wander then, which is why he didn't see the student in his path until it was almost too late.

Paulo saw him at the last second, his mind immediately focused while his heart hammered in his chest. He hit the hand brake fast, angling the bike to arrest his movement. Time seem to slow down as he decelerated, his bike turning away in the face of the startled pedestrian. It nearly seemed that his maneuver succeeded, however his momentum was enough to carry him forward, crashing to the right of his target and sending the Somali sprawling into a heap. He was successful on one front however, he did succeed in avoiding a collision, but he paid the price.

"Woah! What the fuck man! You almost fucking killed me!" the would-be victim cried, fuming.

Paulo lay there, groaning from the impact. His left leg was scraped and bloody along with his left arm. He was disoriented from the sudden fall and making a response beyond, "wha?..." was too much for him. He tried looking up at the man he almost hit, placing him as a Siamese cat before looking back to his leg and groaning again.

"Are you not going to say anything? Huh? No apology? Nothing?" the cat cried before kicking Paulo in the stomach, eliciting a cry from the Somali as the heel slammed into Paulo's ribcage. "People like you make me sick. I don't even know why…" he stopped, taking a close look at Paulo before scoffing. "Oh, it's you. Hmph. I suppose there's no point in beating you up, since you're a wreck anyway." The cat paused. "Phaw, I don't have time for this." With that he walked away leaving the broken and confused Paulo to put himself back together.

Paulo was late to school of course, unable to ride his bike without pain, so he was forced to drag his bike along with his bloody body. Immediately he was sent to the nurse who bought his excuse that he fell off his bike doing a sweet trick and once patched up he was sent to class. Paulo was in no mood for learning however, and sat there, fuming the entire lecture, at one point snapping his pencil so loud that everyone in the class went silent and stared at him, but he was too angry to care. There was only one reason he even bothered to come to class and it was because he knew who had done this to him. There could only be one person who fit all the criteria, and he intended to confront them.

When lunch rolled around, Paulo was nowhere to be seen at the table. No one but Lucy paid it much mind, for they knew he was probably off gallivanting outside or something. He'd turn up sooner or later and drink five cans of Blasto as usual. It was just a Paulo thing to do, and thus everyone got along with their lunch, none the wiser at the Somali's true reasons for not being present.

The truth was, Paulo was outside as his friends may have guessed, however for a reason they would have no inclination to suspected. His leg ached as he moved purposefully behind the school, passing by some kids smoking cigarettes or other activities generally illegal on school grounds, taking little heed of their actions. This was exactly the kind of place he expected his quarry to be. It took him a good twenty minutes but he eventually found who he was looking for.

Sitting by himself next to a well hidden section of wall was Augustus, the Final Fantasy cat. There had been many rumors about this cat, things he had heard about what he had almost done to Daisy. It made a certain kind of hate well up in Paulo, different from the one he already kindled and he stoked the flames of his as well. All the better for what was to occur. Oddly a song about an angel with one wing started playing in Paulo's head and he was unable to dispel the noise. He was undeterred however and confronted Augustus, his mind determined and his fists clenched.

Augustus stirred, as if awakening from some slumber to look up at Paulo with disdain. "Tch. The dumb orange one? Really what do you want?" He didn't really seem interested and made an overt gesture of yawning to emphasize the point.

"Hey asshole, I'm here to thank you for this morning."

Augustus looked Paulo up and down before shrugging and waving dismissively "I have no idea what you are talking about. Now run along so I can go back to my thoughts."

Paulo pushed forward however, looming above Augustus. "Oh like hell you do. I'm sorry I almost hit you with my bike, but why did you not look out anyways? And why did you have to be such an asshole and kick me?"

Augustus began to look aggravated now, his eyes narrowing. "I told you, I don't know what you are talking about."

"Like hell! It was defiantly a Siamese I almost hit and to top it off you said, 'Oh, it's you.' Yeah you're the only Siamese I know who manages to make life hard for my friends. So yeah, I'm going to have to say it was you."

Augustus blinked, the frustration replaced with confusion as he cocked his head slightly. "Siamese?... wait, wait you think I'm a Siamese?"

It was Paulo's time to scoff at the ridiculous question. "Of course you are, everyone knows that."

Augustus sighed, exasperated before pointing at his face. "No, why does everyone say that? Siamese have points on their face, does it look like I have points?"

Paulo's bravado seemed to falter in the face of this unrelenting logic. "Uh. Well. I just kind of assumed your breed could uh, well like, change colors or something. I mean, everyone calls you a Siamese and…"

"Wow, you are as impulsive and dense as Daisy described you. Now, think for a moment, if I don't look like who kicked you, and heaven forbid I sound like who kicked you, then perhaps it was someone else."

Paulo was silent, looking down and feeling a complete fool for falling prey to his anger. He had just assumed that Augustus's nature made him a natural choice for the villain and he was glad to know he had a focus for his rage. Now all he was left with was disappointment in himself.

"I… I'm sorry, I didn't. I wasn't thinking."

"No, but I don't suspect you do that very often anyways." Augustus chided before sighing. "Still, if it helps, some of the louder delinquents around here were talking about some uppity freshman who was almost killed by a crazy Somali." He shrugged. "Maybe that will help you in your quest for revenge."

Paulo was momentarily stunned by Augustus's helpful nature. "Why would you tell me this?"

Augustus merely leaned back, closing his eyes and smiling. "Because I like seeing people get what's theirs is all, oh but do be gentle, I hear the lad's got himself a new girlie."

Paulo nodded, and left unceremoniously. He didn't need to give any farewells and knew none would be received. He was glad he didn't have to fight Augustus, yet he was dismayed that his true target was now shrouded from him. A freshman Siamese? That's like finding a needle in a haystack! Still, he supposed that he could recognize him on sight if need be, although since his initial impetus was gone he didn't really feel the need. He supposed there were more important things to deal with than some wild goose chase, despite how much he'd like to grab that goose by the neck.

Not bothering to re-enter the school he picked up his bike from the rack and mounted it, ignoring the pain that shot up his leg. He didn't have a reason to be here anymore and frankly he was tired. Making sure to look for pedestrians he rode home, thoughts of an angry Siamese still in his mind no matter how he tried to dispel them. No, he couldn't let this consume him, but by that same token, if they next met there would be words. Words neither of them would forget.