Two freshman girls backed into their lockers in fear, scurrying to clear the hallways as she came. Glossy black heels hit the floor as she moved, her fitted skirt moving with her hips and light pink shirt ruffling with the breeze. Flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder – she focussed on her destination.

Nobody would dare interrupt her and she passed by.

Whispers began as she walked by, all the usual rumours.

"I heard she fought a wild lion once - and won." whispered a sophomore to her friend.

"Hottest bitch in heels, coming down the hallway." a senior said as he nudged his friend nearby.

"I heard she even gets fan mail." another student whispered.

She'd reigned supreme in this school since the moment she set her five-inch heels in the doorway. Fearless, they often said, she was strong enough to win a fight and beautiful enough to win a pageant.

Beauty had never previously been her thing, much preferring to prove her dominance with a tom-boy appearance and a fiery mouth. Somebody had taught her along the way that beauty was powerful too.

Everywhere she walked, people talked – quietly. Usually, nobody was brainless enough to find themselves on her bad side.

"I wish I had curves like that." jealous girls would utter.

"I wish I was that resilient." others would murmur.

Ultimate control over an entire school population had honestly not been her objective – but she'd found it nonetheless. She was passionate and fiery, not only had she earned their fear, but their respect too.

"I think she's headed over to that trash talking freshman!" a nervous onlooker watched.

"I cannot believe what that freshman girl said." her friend whispered in return, as others nodded their heads.

"I mean, that's the one most important thing you NEVER say to her!" the girl responded.

Suddenly, the clicking of heels ceased and stood before their trembling victim and she began to speak. Onlookers held their breath.

"I heard you about what you said yesterday." the fiery vixen said, her tone soft but chilling.

"I, uh, no... i-it was an accident." responded the trembling freshman.

Moving closer to the worried girl, her tone grew colder, "I'd like you to repeat to me what it is you said yesterday." her eyes icily glared at the young girl.

"I-I said that, uh, I s-sai-" the girl began to stutter.

Behind them a tall male figure approached, he carefully placed his hands on the tall blonde girls shoulders, "Helga" he said patiently, "I think you should let her go."

Slowly her eyes flickered from the petrified girl before her and up to meet his gaze, "Arnold, did you not hear what this girl said about you?" she asked, her tone both affectionate and determined.

"I'm sure she is sorry" the tall blonde boy began, as he turned his gaze to the freshman student, "You're sorry aren't you?"

Eagerly the frightened girl nodded, shaking with fear but grateful for his arrival, "Yes" she whimpered.

"See? Let's go." Arnold said softly, offering his hand to Helga.

Sighing, Helga casually flipped the books from the young freshman's hands and shot her a wicked glare – ensuring she proved her point. Smiling gracefully she took Arnold's hand and they disappeared down the hallway.

Students throughout the hallways stared in horror at the shaken freshman, she had made the ultimate mistake. No matter what you should never, never, ever, say things about Helga Pataki's boyfriend.