Tate~

"Mr. Langdon? Get up."

Tate's head shot up when he heard the revolting yet familiar voice of Principal Jude, his boss. His sleepy eyes hazily drifted to the clock on the wall, it was half past 4 already.

"Mr. Langdon, detention is over you can go home now." She was right in front of his desk, how had he not noticed this at first? This woman was a frightening lady as well as an annoying sex symbol. You're either aroused or fearful near her, mostly the latter. Except in Tate's case he couldn't stand the woman. She reminded him of his very own godforsaken mother.

"Thanks Jude, I'll see you tomorrow then." He finally replied to ease the dragon before him. Though she did not seem too pleased.

"Very well; but just so you know, I'd keep an eye on that Violet girl from earlier if I were you. That girl just spells trouble."

"With a capital T that rhymes with P that stands for pool?" he murmured to himself while she was leaving. Apparently she heard when she turned on her heel to give him the evil eye.

"That's right, right here in River city." She snorted. So the beast had a sense of humor…

When she finally left his classroom relief flooded through him like a gush cold shower surging through his head to his entire body. It was refreshing, yet very unpleasant.

This was his life now, an evened schedule of strain and serene, all amounting to a very boring existence. It was maddening.

Tate checked his phone, 3 new messages and 4 missed calls-all by the same person. He groaned back in his wooden chair and placed a hand over his temples, soothing out the headache that the memories brought with them. Deciding now was the best time to gather his shit and get the hell out of this school. It would only add to the migraine that was coming on.

Once he reached his car in the parking lot he started to read through the texts. Staring at the 'from' region of the message, repeating the name in his head as if it were a chant. One if said too much could summon the demon herself.

Hayden.

They met in college, he was getting his degree in teaching while she in Psychology. At first glance he felt as if he was in love. And for a while he thought he could actually love. They just seemed like a good idea in his head. A smart, pretty, sarcastic girl who shares similar views on the world with him…(well not exactly but pretty darn close.) And he, a protector to his seemingly dainty flower, it was perfect. She was perfect.

Her auburn hair sprawled throughout his pillow while his arm gripped her curvy, sleeping figure. The white linen sheets the only thing hiding their decency. Whenever she'd toss or turn a smile would creep to his lips, she was his perfect, beautiful thing.

He'd replay that scene over and over in his head, even when he was yelling at her for being a goddamn, filthy cheater. With all the rage that rested at the bottom of his core, he must've been a frightening sight. Never had he had genuine hate pump through his veins, all because of one person. Of course he despised people, but she was the first he actually hated with all his demented being. As well as the first he loved with his psychotic passion. And he hoped to never love again to avoid the shit she put him through. From all of the drugs he'd ever screwed around with, she was the worst. And so far he's been 2 years sober…that is until she called him last week.

She got his number from god knows where and drunk called him. At first he was completely livid with this she beast having the audacity to call him. Once his anger settled to stark somberness he finally gave in to meeting her at her location and drive her home as a designated driver.

When she walked out of that club with the bouncer holding up her clingy body to his arm, he scanned her body in awe. She had definitely grown into her once lanky figure. Needless to say this girl turned out to be his sin of the night, his guilty pleasure. Within the 3 weeks after that he kept in touch with her. She told him that she moved into the area and would love a little 'house warming party,' and for him to join. He knew that meant she would invite a bunch of her old frat boy friends, which he once was, and get them all drunk off their ass and high as a kite. Funny story, they met at a frat party for his house- she walked in on him doing a few lines.

"Aren't you a good boy, taking your medicine?" Her voice like velvet slurred and dripped with seduction. That sultry look in her eyes caught his full attention. Suddenly this magnificent feeling of high mocked him, he had never felt so satisfied as he did with just one long look at this pretty face. He put down the 20-dollar bill he rolled up into a straw, and wiped away the remaining powder on his desk.

"Don't be too quick to put labels on me sweetheart. I'm rotten to the core." He replied, barely caring if it sounded cheesy or lame. She was drunk and he was high, their judgment and criticism were clouded and irrelevant. Watching as she made her way beside him, he noticed her gaze never left his.

"Ditto." Her face moved closer to his, he felt fear strike his heart like lightning, a pleasurable jolt of feeling. As if he'd been near the verge of death and she revived him. "These violent delights have violent ends." She taunted in a hushed tone. His face inched closer to hers.

"And in their triumph die, like fire and powder. Which as they kiss, consume." She cut him off with her lips on his and he tilted his head against hers.

It was probably the first and last time he'd kiss a stranger. Even now she seems like a stranger to him. Her bolder attitude and new curves are foreign. Back then she seemed well aware of her power and charm, but now she boldly walks with it in stride, daunting and desirable all at the same time.

"Hayden." He said aloud. Shaking his head he mentally berated himself. In his head he was yelling, 'Curse that name and vile woman!' His heart and arousal were in opposition.

Putting his key into the ignition he made his long and lonely journey home. Nearing a stoplight it was then that he felt his phone vibrate. Reluctantly he answered, prepared to hear the other end of the line.

"Hey there lover boy. You coming over or am I going to have to stay here all by my lonesome self?"

Tate could already tell on the other end she had was wearing her classic pouty face that he used to think was irresistible. Thinking about her elfish features made him chuckle. "I don't know, that depends." He paused, building up suspension.

"Hmm?"

"On whether or not you really are alone or if you have another man in a relationship on speed dial. Or if I'm not just some pawn in your sick game, you bitch. " He didn't know where he mustered this sudden rage; it just came out of the blue. But whatever, it was the truth that he was thinking. Not wanting to filter what he truly felt, he waited for her response.

"Well okay Tate, seems like I've caught you at a bad time. Call me later when you pull that stick out of your ass!" she retaliated, crudely cutting off their conversation from there. Tate just wanted to forget he ever met that she-devil in the first place. Damn that woman and her parasitical nature. She was a vindictive home wrecker. That bitch broke his heart yet he knew he'd never go to heaven and this part of hell burned too invitingly.

"God what is wrong with me?" he parked his car into his driveway and closed his eyes.

Slowly making his way out of his car, he grabbed his briefcase from the back and clutched it against his arms. Just today it definitely gained some weight of sophomore paper essays that needed to be graded. He internally groaned just thinking about having to grade them. These kids, honestly, were a bit dull. Not in the sense that they're colorless, un-teachable kids. It was just that they're actually the opposite, they were all cheery and smiles and nothing like how they were back when he was in school. Their clique segregation wasn't as dramatic or proud to be of. It just felt odd how they've changed yet stayed the same since he was in school. Nowadays if you're an outsider it seems like you're standing alone. There isn't a freak flag or grungy punk rock bands to embrace or cradle you through these 4 years. The only person who came to mind as a stick out from the crowd was Violet.

"Tate?" His head snapped out of his train of thought and looked to the girl who was right beside him.

"Violet? What…what are you doing here? Do you live near here or something?" he inquired. She furiously shook her head looking downwards. As if she were caught guilty of something. She wore the same flower print dress and Chucks that she did to school, if anything her eyeliner smudged a bit. Her dark blonde hair danced in the autumn wind.

"No nothing like that, I was just walking on my way home and saw you here." She shrugged. It still didn't make sense as to why she wasn't home already when she left half an hour before he did.

"Well shouldn't you be home already?" His onyx eyes tried to search hers but they refused to meet his.

"I mean I guess…" she dragged on, looking at the road and the flash of cars passing by.

A smirk threatened to spread on his lips, god damn she was the rebel girl he thought she was. He totally called it. Sneaking into a bar under 21 to do Karaoke, smoking on school grounds- this girl seriously had some balls.

"Ah, no need to explain yourself. Out on some sort of excursion through the city, huh?" he arched an eyebrow. She almost felt like turning red.

"What are you suggesting Mr. Langdon? That I have a secret double life working the corner of Santa Monica for a little extra cash?" she arched her brow at him. A wide smile broke onto Tate's face.

"Naw, you're such a prude. I would've known if you'd do something so outrageous. You might be crazy but you aren't some tramp." Her eyes widened at this, her mouth forming an 'O' as she took mock offense to that. Tate wanted to mentally slap himself for saying something so risky like that to a student.

"Well just to let you know I'm new to this side of hell and I was just getting familiar with the area. You know, finding the best drug dealing alleyways, up and coming underground rock gigs, all that fun stuff." He knew she was joking but god that was teenage Tate down to a tee.

As soon as she changed the subject she checked her watch, disappointment marred her features. " Sorry but I've gotta go, see you at school."

Just before he could give some snarky remark she fled out from the parking lot. What he saw next surprised him.

There she was, the billowy image of a grunge baby doll. She was running towards the streets and suddenly stuck her thumb out until the first car near her yielded. He watched as Violet climbed into the passenger's seat and told the man her address. Confused as to what just happened Tate just grinned. Walking up to his apartment he shook off any kind of worrisome thought that crept into his mind. He shouldn't be too concerned but he was. Not in the legally obligated way that he should be though.

A/N: Kinda faster update...please review and tell me what you think, even if you completely hate it or think i'm using too much similes or if it's too short or whatever. I can take it, I won't cry I promise...I Love Favs and followers but love reviews even more! If you got any ideas PM me as well, ta ta till then!