APRIL 12, 2003

She was the whirling gloom that physically weighed down his right side. As she walked beside him, a slight scowl pulling at her features, Louis thought strategically about what he should say to Violet's silent distress. Not one to whistle in the halls or smile at a teacher; the girl always had such a melancholic aloofness to her, whether she was thinking about past troubles or what today's cafeteria specials were, she never failed to look bored out of her mind. But it was something in the way her brows furrowed from time to time, her eyes stiffening with worry, that her uneasiness stuck out like a sore thumb. What approach was he going to take with his dearest friend? The soft yet serious attitude? Or the straightforward and helpful one?

How about… the one where you make her call you a dumbass?

…Bingo.

"You know, we can't look like the coolest kids at Ericson's if you're frowning," Louis grinned at his friend, nudging into her as they trekked through the halls.

Violet's response was one of a distinct, familiar eyeroll. Louis smirked with the slightest of satisfaction. He was getting somewhere.

"That's the spirit!" he cheered. "I tend to sneer at the lower-class scum that awe at my levels of coolness they couldn't dream to reach."

When Violet opted to ignore his attempt at absurd conversation, his expression faltered. Where was the exasperated remark? The tiresome quip? Something was certainly wrong.

"Alright, so, uh… what's wrong, Vi?" he asked her, his brows furrowing as students pushed past them.

"Don't worry about it," she shrugged him off, quickening her pace around the slower kids.

"You know that's not gonna happen," he responded, promptly following her.

"I said drop it, Louis," Violet glared back at him.

"Not until you tell me what's got you so down," he spoke, his tone firming up as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Is it about yesterday?" he asked but garnered no response. "That Becca girl again?"

Violet scoffed.

"Please."

"Okay, so… it's about Minnie?" he finally pressed. Violet's firm scowl suddenly faltered into a feat of worry, blinking at the ground she walked on. As she inhaled deeply, her fears orbiting her mind, she cleared her throat.

"Something's up with her," she quietly admitted, causing Louis to cock an eyebrow.

"What makes you say that?" he questioned, earning a mopey shrug from the girl as he now walked beside her.

"I don't know, but it's not good," she replied through a sigh. "She keeps distancing herself and I… It's starting to get to me."

Louis paused for a moment, his eyes squinting in thought.

"She's probably just rattled about finals. Something unrelated to you, her girlfriend, that she loves dearly," he tried assuring her. "Don't think about it too much, alright? Soon enough, it'll be all peaches and cream again and you can go back to grossing everyone out with your obscene amounts of PDA," he grinned, satisfied at his attempt to cheer her up.

Violet's glower had soon softened, a silent chuckle quickly coming over her. There was no one like Louis to dig her out of her bottomless ruts.

"At least I get some PDA," she began to smirk, looking him up and down. "I don't see your arm candy anywhere."

"I think the girls here at Ericson's are a little too sweet for my candy liking," he told her, his expression evident with indifference as he assessed the passing girls in the hallway.

Violet stared at him, top lip curled.

"That's the whole point of candy. It's supposed to be sweet," she confirmed as Louis tutted at her.

"I'm my own arm candy. And besides," he folded his arms, "you're not the sweetest gum drop yourself," he nudged her, earning her smirk as they entered the assembly hall.

"Maybe some of us don't want candy," she mumbled as she glanced away, Louis turning to her.

"Which is exactly my point," he told her, a confident finger up in the air. "Or maybe some of us like the gooey centre of the hard, jaw-breaking gum drop. Like Minerva does," he nudged her once again, scouring the room for the girl herself.

"Are you saying I have a gooey centre?" Violet raised her brows at him.

"If the boot fits, Vi. If the boot fits," he stared off into the distance, a satisfied smirk upon his face.

"I know a place my boot can fit."

"Uh, no—" his brows furrowed cautiously, "that garage will remain empty, thank you," he spoke with insistence, his now widened eyes searching the hall for a place to sit. When two tufts of red, shaggy hair caught his eye, he leant down to Violet's level. "I think I see your girlfriend over there," he said, continuing to search the assembly hall.

Violet sighed, scratching the back of her head. If she didn't face the bull head on, she'd never get her answer. What point was there to beat around the bush? To temporarily soothe her anxieties? To live in la-la-land, pretending nothing was even wrong? That wasn't how Violet played life. Violet needed truth. Violet needed reality – as dark and grimy as it got. It was foolish to juke herself. Minerva was her number one priority.

Despite her shaken nerves, curiosity edged the girl a little closer to the front seats Minerva and Sophie sat in.

"Shit. Time to make things awkward," she mumbled, beginning to approach the area. But when the mass beside her was no longer following, she halted, looking back with confusion. "You coming?" she questioned while he peered around the back rows in search of something. Or someone. "Lou?" she called to him again, but watched as his eyes clicked into action.

"I'll see you after the assembly!" he assured her, making his way against the incoming students.

When a pair of narrowed, amber eyes returned his gaze from the last few rows, Louis was as mortified as he was awestruck. There she sat, arms folded, leg over the other, glaring at him from the back corner of the room. God, she had only been here not even a week and she was already managing to spike his heart rate.

Louis decided to smile at the girl, concluding that if he could come off as bubbly and positive as he could, then it had a good chance of rubbing off on her.

Clementine's head shook, her eyes prominently glaring at him and only him.

He was wrong.

It wasn't long before Louis took a breath of encouragement and made his way towards her, stepping past the legs of other students with a "hello" here and a "sorry" there to get to where she sat. She kept her gaze stern and forward, not daring to watch the ridiculousness play out beside her. When he finally got to the end of the row, he promptly stepped over her unmoving legs and took the last seat at the very end, slumping onto it with a satisfied sigh.

Clementine mentally groaned. Was she ever going to catch a break from this guy?

"There's a lot of seats in this place," she told him coldly, watching him shrug from her peripheral vision.

"But there's only one next to you," he replied, a prompt grin etching onto his face.

Clementine paused for a moment, chewing the inside of her lip. Was it fair to return his kindness with such vitriol? Of course it is… isn't… shit. She quietly sighed through her nose, her eyes deadpanning even further than they already had. Just take the bait, she thought to herself. Louis… probably isn't going to hurt you. Maybe... possibly...

"And here I was hoping the IT guy would take it," she finally joked back, allowing her visage to slowly lighten up.

Louis sighed smoothly, propping his elbow up on the backrest.

"Can't say I'm as charming as a man who wears socks with sandals, but I'll admit," he leaned in a little closer, "I have my moments."

Clementine turned her head to face him, unphased by the close proximity, and raised an eyebrow of curiosity at him. It was only when he mimicked her did she realise how much of a fool she may have been behaving as. He was just… stupidly playful. The whole "I like a challenge" thing probably wasn't as sinister as she assumed. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Louis had the same interests as Marlon, they practically grew up together. Clementine wanted friends, she needed friends, and it wasn't like she was in any position to be denying friends.

When his echoing expression couldn't help but collapse into a cheesy smile and an accompanying giggle, a strange flutter in Clementine's chest resonated, sending her controlled features into rampant concern. She was lucky enough to have his attention caught by Marlon tapping the microphone before he could see her face physically crumple. It could only be described as a sudden pang of dread overcoming her entire being while she gawked at him. A feeling as if the world was over. It wasn't, the world wasn't over, but whatever she was feeling surely told her a convincing otherwise.

Oh shit, oh no.

Surrounding students began to fall quiet as Marlon stood upon the podium, hands planted on top of it. With his confident, calm demeanour, it was like she couldn't tell how terribly plastered he was last night. Marlon went on to deliver an encouraging speech about the end of the school year, final tests – the whole spiel. He was a natural at it, as if he'd done it before, many times, in fact. It was like he was performing almost, and it came as no doubt as to why Marlon was the Head of the Sophomore student body.

"A lot of people see the finish line and they slow up – finally, they've reached the end. They can relax. Well, that's where they go wrong. You don't slow down when you see the finish line, you speed up. You go the fastest your legs can take you because if not, it's not a triumphant win. You're walking, you're catching your breath, you're not giving your all. When it comes to finals, don't slow down just because you can see the finish line. Go harder than you've ever gone. Study hard, study smart, and ace those exams."

He seemed eerily fit for the role, but that didn't stop Clementine's overhead feelings of suspicion. The 'bad day' he supposedly had, the way he spoke to his own girlfriend… that ridiculous haircut.

"Seriously, what's with the mullet?" Clementine uttered to Louis, her voice low as she grimaced up at the stage.

Louis shrugged.

"He likes it," he simply replied. "He thinks it's cool."

"Has he looked into any reflective surface by any chance?" she quipped, earning Louis' giggle.

"Unfortunately not. The Headmaster removed all mirrors and windows from the boys dorm room so Marlon wouldn't have to see the horror of a haircut we all do," he told her, a grin tugging at his lips. Clementine glanced up at him, mouth agape ever so slightly. "That was a joke. I was joking," Louis revealed, his expression straightening out.

"Really? You were joking about that?" she began to smirk. "I couldn't tell."

"Yeah," he spoke through his exhale, "I kinda do that. You know… the jokes and um, stuff… apparently it's my thing." Louis let out air he didn't even know he'd been holding in, using his propped up hand to fiddle somewhat nervously with his hair.

Clementine wondered how he could sound so awkward and suave at the same time.

"I'm shocked," she replied, moments before a teacher turned around in her seat and shushed them.

The pair averted their gazes in embarrassment as she turned back around, a restrained grin on both of their faces. When Louis eventually looked up to watch Marlon again, Clementine couldn't help but take the chance to peek at the boy. It felt creepy to steal a glance, there was no doubt about it, but the flutter in her chest from before was worrying enough to try and coax it out of her again. Was it real? Was it delayed discomfort? What the hell was it?

Puke.

Clementine's eyes suddenly widened, her throat feeling as if it were closing up. Her mind raced back to last night's game of War where he basically admitted to liking her. Liking her. What was there to like? Is that why her chest fluttered before? Is that why she keeps failing to resist his jest? Because the memory pushed far back into her mind in a moment of outrage had subconsciously resurfaced? Shit, maybe she was going to barf.

Clementine abruptly stood from her seat, causing Louis to retract his arm from the backrest as the chair slightly jutted back.

"Bathroom," she blurted out once he glanced up at her, perplexity riddling his features.

"Huh?"

"Need to throw up," she stiffly replied. "Talk to you later."

"Double huh?" he gawked at her reddening cheeks, turning around in his seat as she paced around the back and exited the auditorium.

Clementine's colourless gaze stuck to the bumper sticker-riddled car in front of them. For the early afternoon, you'd almost expect there to be no traffic at all instead of a forty-minute delay. There must have been a car accident on the highway, maybe a busted fire hydrant that everyone wanted to slow down to look at. It was probably the highlight of their day to see, something to go home to tell the wife and kids over dinner like the uneventful turds they were. Her eyes snapped to the 'SHIT HAPPENS' bumper sticker on the bottom right of the other car's bumper.

It sure does.

"I can't believe I have to pick you up for the second fuckin' time this year. Who do you think you are gettin' into fights, huh? Superwoman? You think you're Superwoman? Well, I'll tell you in on a lil' secret – Superwoman ain't just beatin' up kids for no good reason!"

Clementine almost forgot she was being scolded for a moment – blocking out Audrey's nagging had become an acquired skill over the last couple years.

"Don't listen to that dillweed. I didn't just hit him out of nowhere, Audrey."

The woman scoffed.

"You sure?" she glanced at her wildly. "That busted lip sure tells a different story—"

"He wouldn't stop throwing thumb tacks at me. Thumb tacks," she emphasised, leaning in at her foster mother.

"So you get up and tackle him in fron' of everybody? Just because of a few thumb tacks?!" her voice grew in tone, bewilderment overcoming her.

"What was I supposed to do, help him aim for my eye?" she crossed her arms. "Those assholes hate me—!"

"Well, look at what you do to them! It's no surprise they hate you," Audrey retorted, striking silence in the young girl beside her as she glared into the bumper again. What purpose was there fighting the thought Audrey was hellbent on thinking? It seemed like nothing she said made any sort of change in her foster mother's mind. Soon, a sigh left the woman's mouth. "Can't believe it. Suspended again. One more fight, and they expel you, Clementine. What's Lee gonna say when I—"

"He called me an orphan," she blurted, her breath hitching almost unnoticeably. With tables turned, it was now Audrey who fell silent against the ambience of muffled traffic. "That's why I hit him."

For a moment, Audrey's uneasy gaze focused on the bumper as well.

"It's just a name, Clementine—"

"No it's fucking not," her inflection bit back, eyes narrowing at the woman. "It'll always be just a name to you because you're not one. You have your real parents. But it's not for me."

"What, haven't I been a real enough parent for you?" Audrey retorted, their molten glares locking onto each other. "I have to do everythin' for you—"

"Stop! Stop doing that!" Clementine snapped, her voice raising hellishly. "You hold it over my head all the time – like

I'm the one who should be grateful I get to keep your dirty fucking secret!" her teeth gritted. "You make me keep quiet to Lee by doing things for me so your life can run smoothly! But it's me who has to sit in the middle of it and I'm fucking stuck because you can't just have one husband, you need a boyfriend to run to when being a parent gets too much!"

Audrey's dumbstruck face glared forward as she halted to a sudden stop, appalled enough by the girl's words to distract her from the ever going-and-stopping traffic.

"What in the hell makes you think you can talk like that to me, little girl?" Audrey watched with bubbling rage as Clementine scoffed, shaking her head in dismissal. "I do everythin' for this goddamn family, you ain't taking that for granted! Not under my fuckin' roof!" she shook her head adamantly. "You should be ashamed of yourself for even

thinkin' this is about you. I don't wanna hear another word about what you think or how you feel about what I do with my life. Not unless you wanna be another name in the system again. 'Cause I'll sure as hell make that happen, and this time, Lee won't be savin' your ass," she spat, her mocking tone condescending the begrudged girl. This time, it was Audrey who scoffed with a shake of her head. "So fuckin' disrespectful…" she tutted to herself.

Riddled with abhorrence as raged tears filled her eyes, Clementine forcefully opened the door to Audrey's company car and shoved herself out of the vehicle. Striking disbelief in the woman, Audrey's head spun wildly.

"Where the hell are you goin'? Get back in the car!" she called out to her. "Clem? Clem!"

As the girl gripped the door, she peered back into the car.

"Going to cheat on my husband," she pushed through her gritted teeth, soon slamming the door hard enough to rock the car and the lonesome woman who sat in it.

Laying on her bunk in the empty dorm room, Clementine's eyes burned into the magazine her fingers gripped a little too tightly.

'From Lonely Orphan to Worldwide Superstar!' the title read. 'See which celebrity tells all in this month's issue!'

As the memory quit recounting in her mind, her dulled eyes unhooked from the taunting word. Orphan. Such an odd appearing word, so bitter to sound out. It never held positive connotations – why would it? It wasn't made to describe anything positive, in fact, it was used against her as if it were some all-being word to end any sort of self-appointed identity individuality in her. It was her label – a shitty one at that.

"Garbage," she grumbled to herself, yet lacked the self-control not to flip over the page. Hell, if there was anything Clementine could use to distract herself from the thought of today's assembly, perhaps a corny teen-magazine that was mind-control in the form of flashy neon colours and a free melted plastic-scented lip gloss, then hey, why not? Especially since she didn't pay a dime for it in the first place. The library lady, Dee, tossed it in front of her with nothing short of a bare description as to why she was even offering it in the first place.

"Here girl, you want this? I got it for my daughter but she's not havin' at it."

"Uh," Clementine glanced around the library. "Why me…?"

"Don't act all shocked. You're the only one in here. Don't you got any friends?" she tossed the magazine on the keyboard, forcing a bunch of keys down under its weight. Clementine deadpanned at the continuous 'njgygggggggggggg' that started to appear on the screen.

As the girl's mind snapped away from the sudden, incidental recall of the memory, the door almost seemed as if it were kicked opened simply by the loud bang it produced. It swung all the way around until it bounced off the doorstop, emerging a red faced, tear-stricken Violet. Clementine lowered the magazine enough for her eyes to cautiously peer over the booklet, watching as the blonde girl forcefully turned around and slammed the door shut. She faced it, shoulders rising and falling as her breaths were loud and deep enough to be heard from the other end of the room.

"Um—Violet?" Clementine choked out, unsure of what to do. "Are you okay?"

At first, she was met with silence. Well, not entirely. Violet was still panting like she was about to punch the daylights out of someone. Soon enough, her fists began to tighten.

Shit, maybe she is going to punch the hell out of me.

"I-It's Minnie, she's..." was all she let out, intensity bright in her voice as she sounded so far on the edge of shouting. Violet then growled with anger, reeling her foot back and pounding the door with it just once. One of Brody's coats fell off the door hooks.

Clementine cautiously stood from her bunk, tossing the magazine onto the green, itchy blanket.

"What did she do?" she asked, forcing her tone to be gentle as she slowly approached her.

"She didn't do anything, she's… she's…" Just as instantaneously as her anger entered the room, sorrow began to triumph over it. Her intensity soon eased into whimpering sobs, something Clementine didn't think she'd see from a girl as immoveable as Violet… or, well, so she thought. Clementine stood there, brows quickly furrowing at the sight. Sure, it was sad to see someone like Violet cry, but what boggled her more was how bizarre it was. Because it was. Violet crying was definitely bizarre. She was unsure of what to do, what to say, despite how much she wanted to help. "She's leaving… her and Sophie are going back to Seattle next week…" she let out as she turned around, head still lowered. It wasn't hard to make out the pain in her visage through the strands of her bangs.

Clementine stood awkwardly.

"Do… you need a hug?" she offered in the nicest tone she could muster.

"No—" Violet sniffed, wiping her tears with her sleeve before raising her pained gaze at her. "A… A fucking hug?" she questioned it like it were absurdity, rendering Clementine's silent shrug. As another sob engulfed the girl, she couldn't help but slide her back against the door, planting herself on Brody's fallen coat. "I… I said we were going to road trip after graduation…" she started up again, prompting Clementine to kneel in front of her. "We were going to use my inheritance money…" she sniffed again, but her sombre visage soon soured at herself. "God, why am I telling you this? You don't care."

Clementine's brows furrowed.

"I might not know the gravity of it all… but you're sad, Violet," she noted. "You have every reason to be. I'm not going to make you shut up about it."

The teary girl huffed.

"You'd be the first."

"It's… ok to let things out," she spoke in hopes of assuring the girl, but it was almost as if she were letting herself know that too.

Violet paused for a moment, her lip trembling as her eyes flicked to the right. Up close, even through the redness of her tear-stung eyes, the hue of her iris still managed to shine it's turquoise nature.

"She never told me she was only here for a year," she started. "I told her all the things we could do together once we were finally free from this shit-hole. Every time she would just give me this… goddamn look, like she was worried – like I was dreaming too big or whatever. I never said anything about it. I just kept talking and talking and god, I'm such a fucking idiot," Violet shook her head bitterly.

"She should have told you," Clementine spoke adamantly.

"No," Violet sighed. "No, it was me. I should have known—"

"It would've been impossible to know. You can't blame yourself for this."

"They shoplifted a couple of eyeliner pencils. That's it. That's the reason they're here," Violet's natural firmness returned to her voice. "No anger issues, no shitty behaviour – they're totally normal people. Their parents are just paranoid freaks," she told her, another shake of her head soon appearing. "I should have known they weren't going to be around for long." But Clementine disagreed.

"Not all of us see the red flags, maybe sometimes we don't want to believe them. But it doesn't matter how hard it was to say, she should've told you sooner. We can't just… hold onto the hard things. We should tell people what they have to hear… even when it's really, really hard, or gets you in trouble or… whatever," Clementine's face contorted once again – was she convincing Violet of this, or herself? "Look, I think the best thing you can do right now is spend all the time you can with her before she leaves. She probably feels as bad as you do. She has to leave her girlfriend behind," she advised her, nesting her arm on her knee.

"You're right," Violet nodded, her eyes widening as if the soundest realization had suddenly occurred to her. The girl shot up from the ground, causing Clementine to slightly jump before she stood up as well. "I… I need to see her," she insisted, launching for the door handle.

Before she opened it, she peered back at Clementine, eyes wide and urgent, however her words failed to form. She was returned with a plain yet encouraging smile from the brunette; one that got her to finally open the door. On the other side stood an anticipating Marlon, fist raised as he was about to knock, which Violet rushed past without a single acknowledgement. His eyes followed the girl as she bolted down the corridor, his hand then pointing in her direction.

"What's, uh… what's up with that?" His eyes flicked back to Clementine, his hand lowering.

"Minerva's leaving next week," she informed him, her arms folding.

"Shit, yeah… I heard about that," he muttered, glancing in Violet's direction again. His words caused her to deadpan.

Out of all people to tell, why the hell did Minerva pick her girlfriend last?

"She didn't tell Violet she was only here for a year," she continued, a bitter tinge to her words.

"She didn't?" Marlon's visage fluttered into shock. "Christ, that's rough…" he muttered as he casually waltzed inside the room, shaking his head. When his eyes finally met hers again, his expression lightened. "I, uh… came by to see how your first week went. With your classes and stuff," he then told her. "Sort of protocol, you know, being the Head and all."

"Humble brag," she curtly muttered, weaselling on a sly grin.

"Huh?"

"Classes are fine," she abruptly changed the subject, ridding her face of the sneaky smile. "They're, um… educational," she shrugged, and then shrugged again from the inherent awkwardness itching away at her body.

"Great, great. Like they should be," he nodded his hands raising to his hips. "And – totally confidential by the way – how was your counselling session? You like your counsellor?"

"Yeah, Kate is… Kate. She's okay," her shoulders jolted up once again. "She's nice."

"Well, that's good to hear," he let out an insignificant sigh of relief. "We've got plenty of counsellors at the school if you're ever in desperate need to talk to someone. Or if you're thinkin' of changing counsellors. There's quite a few at your disposal."

"Good to know," she replied.

"Indeed it is," he echoed, teetering back and forth on his feet as he patiently nodded his head.

Marlon then let out an odd chuffing sound, thickening the essence of awkwardness between the pair's conversation. It seemed as if there was more to come from him, but the bite of his tongue ensued as he debated with himself to actually speak up. Clementine's stiffened gaze flickered to the side, her arms retreating into their usual crossed form.

"So… last night," Marlon finally spoke, his eyes returning to her. "It, uh, looked pretty intense between you and Lou there for a moment," he commented.

It wasn't a shock to see Marlon bring Louis up to her, but it sure was a nuisance. He was Louis' best friend, without a casual dose of nosey-ness, could he even retain that title? But nonetheless, Clementine still didn't want to talk about it – not now, not ever. Her vivid abhorrence of Louis had definitely subsided into a mere toleration, even as the minute possibility of a strange bet going on between him and Marlon was ripe in her mind. That didn't mean she was peachy keen with talking about all things Louis. She was hot and cold when it came to him, on and off, fire and ice, all the jazzy idioms her subconscious pinged to her forefront. If she was so disorganized with her emotions towards such a chirpy, yet wily addition in her life, then she sure as hell didn't want to speak about something she was so muddled about.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she simply responded.

Feats of hostility and over-defensiveness couldn't help but remind Marlon of his first interaction with her. It lead Marlon to chuff out a laugh at her pointed glare, however his expression dropped at the realisation of her seriousness.

"What? Sure you do—"

"No. I don't," her tone bit at him. "Is there any other boring question you wanna ask me or can I go back to reading?" she spoke abruptly, her eyes narrowing at his defeated stare.

Marlon huffed, taking a moment to truly assess her animosity before raising his hands in faux-defence.

"Alright. You don't want to talk about it, I get it," he replied nonchalantly.

"There's nothing to talk about," she assured him, moments before her gaze dragged over to the doorway behind him. In came the familiar, petite redhead lugging in her suitcase. Silence ensued from Clementine, hoping it would from Marlon too.

Brody soon glanced up at the boy as she realised his presence and lowered her luggage. She grew unsure, blinking at him.

"If I had known there was a party in here, I would've come a little earlier," Brody chirped, smiling through her puzzlement.

Marlon's head spun towards her at the sound of her voice, a sudden flutter of excitement hitting his features.

"You're back!" he pulled her into a impromptu bear hug, much to her utter perplexity. "God, I've been waitin' to see you."

"Oh… really?" Brody awkwardly hugged him back, shooting a glance at Clementine. "I was only gone for the night. You know that…" she replied, pulling away.

"I know, I know. Just couldn't wait to see your face again," he insisted as he held her. "We got to go to the safe haven last night, got a little drunk, played a bit of cards. Started missing you…" Marlon began to gently sway his girlfriend from side to side, triggering her uncertain expression to ease into a smile, along with the gag reflex in Clementine's throat.

Brody quickly separated herself from the boy and shifted her focus on the girl, a sheepish and embarrassed smile painting her rosy face.

"H- How was your night, Clem? You go to the safe haven too?" she politely asked, edging a little closer to her. She nodded.

"Your boyfriend is quite the fisherman when he's drunk," she began to grin. "Ask Violet."

Brody's pleasantly expectant glance peered up at him.

"Oh, you know. We were just screwin' around in the lake last night is all. Might've grabbed a fish or two to bug Violet with. It's no biggie," he huffed out a small chuckle.

"Well, it sounds like you guys had fun," she gleamed at the both of them. "Maybe not so much Violet…"

"Come with us next week," he insisted, hanging his arm from her shoulders.

"Yeah! Uh… maybe," she blinked at the ground, causing Marlon's lightened visage to suddenly and quite eerily drop.

"Huh? What do you mean maybe?" he questioned.

Brody offered an innocent shrug.

"Oh, you know, I- I don't wanna intrude on your guys' fun and whatnot – I- I'd just be borin' you all," she insisted.

"What are you talking about? What the hell does that even mean?" he retrieved his arm from her shoulders and turned to her.

Okay… Clementine thought to herself. Why is this happening?

Brody began to fidget with her hands, seeming as if she had no clue where to put them. Her furrowing brows caressed what was clearly evident to be worried eyes as she tried choking out a bunch of words that wouldn't make sense.

"I just— Maybe, okay? I- I said maybe I'll go. Y- You know I don't mean nothin' by it—"

"I just don't see why you won't come. I invited you. You're coming." The boy's voice reeked of prepotency – a nasty, gut clenching impression was left on Clementine as she watched the girl stammer in search of words to calm him.

"Marlon, you know I… I'm not…" Brody's eyes couldn't return her boyfriend's gaze, instead dropping to the ground or flickering at a stone-still, wide eyed Clementine.

"Stop being so goddamn coy, alright?" he near shouted, before turning his attention to their bystander. "You want her there too, right Clem?"

Unable to answer, the girl herself could feel the beginnings of befuddlement – starting from the lump in her throat, the razor-sharp clarity of everything in sight, the unruly pattern of her breathing… was befuddlement the right word? Or was she having an anxiety attack, right next to the girl also having one?

Get out. Now. Go.

The couple had halted their arguing to watch Clementine stare daggers into the drawer beside them, the rims of her eyes glowing red as her breathing followed no distinct course.

"Clem…?" Marlon uttered her name again.

Her eyes suddenly darted at him, before her entire body darted out the door. She roamed the corridors in a hurry, zipping past fellow students within an inch of their limbs. There was something about a situation as domineering and fearful as the one she exited that riled up a sense of dread in Clementine. Memories triggered, hearts raced, breathing quickened. All she could scream to herself was: avoid, avoid, avoid. What made Brody so anxious? How could it be so contagious? Why was Marlon so quick to overwhelm her?

Out of the dormitory building, she began weaving past students in the halls of the classroom building. But her mind was still set on figuring out what in the world had happened.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—

It was like he had a switch in his brain. He could go from 'totally normal' to 'arrogant brat' at the sight of Brody. It was suffocation all over again, however in the form of proxy. The fear he instilled in Brody, seemed to instil in her as well. The sight of his overbearing nature alone was enough to choke her up. And soon enough, it was enough to aggravate her. Who the hell did he think he was talking to her like that? It wasn't like she cared deeply about a dormmate she had only known for a few days, his behaviour was just foul enough to scare her into infuriation.

Head of Sophomore, what a fucking jo—

Despite watching the action unfold, Clementine hadn't noticed an incoming student until they collided with her shoulder, spinning her around and yanking her right out of her daze.

"Watch where the hell you're going, shit-for-brains," the girl spat, glaring her brown, beady eyes into Clementine's absent gaze. Her visage oozed animosity, or what seemed to be a blind hatred, the type that if you reasoned with them, you'd simply get ignored and shouted at. To them, being louder meant being the winner.

Or at least that's what she conjured up in the few seconds of looking at her.
It only took a short moment to realise what had happened, and more importantly, what she'd been called, pulling the usually scornful Clementine out from the trenches of discombobulation. Her eyes narrowed.

"Fuck you."

The girl bore her intensity into her even more, scoffing at her.

"You're really speaking to me like that?" she began to steadily approach. "You know, you better watch your mouth—"

Clementine couldn't pinpoint when she was going to do it, or how fast she was going to do it, but when a scream of agony ensued and the sight of blood poured from the girl's nose… she realised she may have already done it. Something about old habits dying hard? A sharp, hasty fist had met the approaching girl quicker than Clementine could comprehend it. The girl tumbled to the ground, holding her bloody nose as she let out a string of expletives.

Her scowled features soon eased up when she realised what she had done.

"Oh, shit," Clementine muttered, staring between her reddening knuckles and the injured girl.

As if she were pulled back into reality, the stares and hollers of passing by students caught her attention.

I hit her out of nowhere… why the fuck did I do that?

With the commotion loud enough to draw the attention of Ms Caul down the hall, Clementine figured it was time to get the hell out of there.

"You're fucking dead!" the girl threatened from the ground, catching Clementine's wide eyes as she struggled to get up. As if Ms Caul wasn't enough of an incentive to leave.

Run.

Backing away, she spun around to flee the scene of the crime, but then again collided, quite inelegantly, into yet another person, knocking the both of them back a few steps.

Her eyes narrowed.

Again.

"God, are you fucking everywhere?!" Clementine sputtered through the irony, glaring at a bewildered Louis as he assessed the situation before him.

"You straight up punched Becca in the face…" he spoke with awe, peering at the struggling girl behind her.

"Who? Wh—" Clementine promptly rolled her eyes, shaking her head impatiently. "I- I need to get out of here!"

When Ms Caul's piercingly strident voice called for her to stay where she was, Louis took her by the wrist.

"Then we're getting out of here."