I want it said that just, for the record, my absence was totally not my fault. I was at a cabin in Tahoe with no wifi and then I got back and had a lot of tests and finals are coming up and the world just sucks. As it is, I'm supposed to be writing an essay for The House on Mango Street right now. Joy to the world.

Anyways, I felt guilty. So now that I'm done complaining/giving you excuses, read on.

A hand much larger than my own laid itself lightly down on my shoulder.

I jumped and turned around to face Aiden, letting my hair fall down as a curtain between us.

"I was just-"

"I know." He interrupted with a crooked little smile. "Going to the bathroom, right?"

"I...I'm sorry."

"S'okay." He muttered under his breath.

Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he steered me in the direction of the scuffed door. He winked and took a deep breath.

"I saw nothing. So, you think that boyfriend of yours could train us in knife throwing? I like knife throwing."

I smacked him upside the head, blushing to the tips of my ears.

"What?" He grumped.

"You know I'd rather work on shooting. I'd kick his sorry butt at knife training. Remember the Renaissance Faire from seventh grade?"

"Yeah." He laughed. "How could I forget? You pinned Gabe to a wall with a javelin!"

"I meant to hit the wall." I grumbled. "He got in my way. They really need to work on safety at that school."

Holding on to each other for support, Aiden and I stumbled through a few yards of trees to the left of the house until we reached a flat, sunlit clearing that the others had managed to beat us to.

Everyone but the two youngest stood waiting, making me feel awkward. Dustin sat on a low-hanging tree branch. Considering what a dope that kid is, I assume he thought he was 'supervising'.

Bailey sat partially hidden by the shade of the same tree, weaving daisies into a chain.

Gabe tossed something hard and black at my feet. I blinked.

"What is that?"

"That, princess,"

I scowled.

"Is a gun."

"That is not a gun. That is a freaking sniper rifle."

"A Barrett M107, to be more specific." He smirked. "You're welcome."

He pulled me over to a little faded brick wall and knelt down, yanking me onto my knees and teaching me how to position the rifle, aim, and shoot.

I went through hours of learning every little aspect of every part of the gun, squinting and aiming until it made my head hurt, and spitting bullets into targets in the nearby trees.

After that, I got to do the same thing with a shotgun.

Then a little silver handgun.

Man, and I thought I hated Gabe before! The boy was a psychopath. And apparently one with an unhealthy obsession for firearms.

This portion of my training had taken so long that the sunset had begun to paint the blue sky with shades of fire that reflected off of the river. We all had to travel back in pairs, so we could avoid falling on the rocky surroundings.

Dyana and Aiden, Harmony and Sabrina, Dustin and Bailey, and, naturally, me and Gabe. Fantastic.

"You made my brain hurt." I whined bitterly, clutching his forearm as I slipped on yet another patch of moss that seemed to pop up everywhere. He exchanged a weary glance with Dyana and started to veer off of the cluttered path.

"It's about to start hurting a whole lot worse. Follow me."

Please, for the sake of my unfinished essay, review. I swear it's gonna eat me if you don't. Wait, what the boogers was th... AAAHHH

Ah, you know you love me. Just deal with it.

-Dictatorship