Okay, I literally have no excuse for taking this long to upload, this chapter ain't that long (compared to the last few), but heyyy I'm done!

Also, y'all had some super strong feelings from the last chapter regarding Helga, and I'm more likely to get into detail in specific reviews about them. The overwhelming consensus was that Lila was more in the wrong in Helga, and though she was slightly insensitive and definitely wasn't respecting Helga's boundaries, I think the thing we need to keep in mind is that we're hearing this from Helga's perspective. It's very biased, and she was extremely judgemental of Lila's actions. I don't think Lila was totally faultless, but she definitely wasn't in the wrong, she 100% should have called Helga out on her behaviour. It's Helga's philosophy of soaking everything in and hiding behind her walls that largely is why she hasn't gotten the help that she very, very much needs.

But anyway, let's continue with the show!

I looked stupid.

The bandage on my cheek looked like a marshmallow puffing up from my skin. My hands curled around the sink and I glowered at the stupid thing, barely resisting the urge to rip it off. I hadn't even wanted to put the band aid on in the first place, but Nel and Lila had been adamant about dealing with the scrape along my cheek. I'd tried telling them that it looked worse than what it was—it didn't sting that much—but they had gone on and on about infections and blah blah blah, so I'd pretty much been forced into putting it on.

And now I looked stupid.

I growled and yanked the ties from my hair so the strands fell thickly around my face. Sweeping them over one shoulder, I pulled up my hoodie so it would hopefully cover the giant bandage on my cheek.

It didn't, and that pissed me off.

I released a groan and wrenched open the cupboard, pulling out the first aid kit from the second shelf, and shoved away from the sink. The cupboard shut with a sharp smack! and I spun around for the door. The carpet soaked up my stomps as I treaded down the hallway for the stairs. The band aid felt funny on my skin and I was tempted to scratch it, so I locked my fingers around the kit. Pictures of Olga, Bob and Miriam rolled past in a sea of teal paint, but for once I wasn't bothered by any of it.

Shivers were rolling down my spin and I clenched my teeth together. I hadn't yet changed from my clothes—and neither had Lila—so the wet fabric was still soaking my skin. Lila had wanted to change, worried we'd catch a cold, but Nel had insisted we address our injuries first. I didn't have much, it was mostly the scrape on my face, but Lila could barely even walk.

Speaking of which—

I blocked out the thoughts before they could even develop. The guilt had been ringing in my ears for a while now, and I'd tried muffling it out of respect for Lila.

"You keep fighting, Helga Pataki."

We hadn't spoken about what had been said on the roof, and I didn't know if we ever would. It was still so strange, but her voice had been firm, and her blue eyes shone like steel. There hadn't been an ounce of hesitation, and even as we'd stared out towards the wet city, her protection had washed over me like flames.

"You lose when I say you lose."

It was so strange, no longer having to rely on myself. Even before becoming Blue Jay, that had quickly become my number one rule—you're your own burden, Pataki—and I had hidden myself safely behind walls. I didn't want anyone getting close to me, I didn't want them to hurl their bricks at me, I didn't want them to maybe see who I was beneath the glares and fighting and see something even I hadn't. So, I had used those bricks before they could throw them, and built thick walls that blocked out the sun, and I had grown in the black shadows.

"You quit when I say you quit."

Then, Lila had stormed through those walls, latched onto me, and dragged me from the dark. She'd seen me at my worse, seen me hurl toxic bullets at her, and wasn't leaving. I still wasn't sure how to feel—I'd gotten so used to watching everyone from the dark, gazing as they laugh and danced, and now was unsure how to act with someone by my side.

"Is that any way to speak to your partner in crime?"

I was climbing up the stairs when I heard her muffled voice through the door. It was down the hallways, yet Lila could be heard clear as day, babbling about something to Nel, who murmured her agreements.

That was also strange, the fact that they were both conversing with one another. Because they both represented different portions in my life, portions that belonged to different people, and now they were one in the same. My two realities—blue and red—were clashing in a swirl of rich hues, swelling and blending into a chilling purple that echoed around me. It had been a week, but I hadn't even stopped to really think about it.

Yeah, because all you can think about—

"Ohhhh, Heeelga."

I stopped, recognising that slurred voice, and sighed.

"Miriam."

I hadn't even realised she was here—I mean, sure, I didn't know where she would've gone, but the house had been quiet when we'd gotten back. I dug my fingers into the kit and slowly turned around. There were stains on her shirt, and her eyes were red and unfocused, never quite settling on me.

"Whaaaat was with a–a–all that n–noise?"

I frowned, chest tightening with disgust as she swayed with each word. I didn't know what she was even referring to until her eyes flickered to the door over my shoulder where the voices had hushed and felt myself flush with realisation.

You see, when we had arrived here, we'd been faced with the dilemma of actually getting Lila up the stairs. Lila who, despite fumbling moreso then walking, had burst into a fit of cackles when she'd seen the looks on our faces.

We'd settled on the genius idea of me hobbling the both of us up, but the stairs weren't exactly a gentle climb. It felt like I had been climbing mount Everest, which wasn't helped when Lila kept throwing herself back against me to throw me of. I'd told her to stop because what the fuck, I'm trying to help, Lila, and she'd simply giggled and done it again. Only this time, her weight had sent us tumbling back down the stairs and, not wanting her to get even more injured, Nel and I had thrown ourselves down to cushion her fall.

"MEOWWWW!"

"Oops—sorry, Nel!"

Yeah, notice that I hadn't gotten an apology.

Then, as a kicker, as Nel and I had laid there on the bottom of the stairs, Lila had the nerve to casually point out that she could've just transformed and swung up anyway.

Stupid, firetruck–looking—

"Sorry, Miriam." I said, shaking myself from the memory, and tucked the box beneath my armpit. "I have a friend over today and—"

"Whaaat?" Behind her glasses, Miriam's eyes widened considerably. "Friend?"

Oh, criminy.

"Yes, Miriam," I said with a roll of my eyes. "Is that allowed?"

It had been completely sarcastic—I mean, obviously—but I still expected that to go over her head and for her to still answer. But instead, she didn't respond, and scratched her head with a contemplative look.

"I–Is it that l–l–little one?" she eventually asked, tapping her chin like she was solving a maths equation. "The one with the glasses?"

"No."

She didn't even pause. "H–H–How about t–the blonde booy?"

You're a bully, Helga.

My chest seized up uncomfortably.

"No, Miriam," I said firmly, and she looked back with surprise. "Can I go? Didn't think my having a friend over would annoy you."

There were whispered voices coming from behind my door—I knew it was mostly Lila—and I itched to turn and leave. It was bad enough that we'd had to move so much with her ankle how it was, I didn't want to waste more time not addressing it.

But there was a strange look in Miriam's eyes, and she opened her mouth to respond when her eyebrows suddenly raised, and she shuffled closer.

"H–Helga, what is that on yooour face?"

Her shaking finger was pointing at the band aid on my face and I scowled, turning away and rubbing my nose. Criminy, this was why I didn't want to put anything on that stupid scrape, it looked way more dramatic than it was. Still, this was Miriam, if anyone were to let things slide, she was definitely the person.

I opened my mouth to deflect her question when the door to my room suddenly swung open.

"Helga?" Lila's voice came from behind and her footsteps shuffled down the hallway. "What's taking so—"

She stopped in her tracks with a soft gasp when she noticed Miriam, who looked back slightly frazzled. Oh, great—just what I wanted. For Lila to meet my alcoholic mother. I softly sighed and looked over my shoulder, noting that she no longer was wearing her uniform. She must've changed when I'd put the bandage on because she was now wearing one of my T–shirts and a pair of my boxer shorts. Her auburn hair was swept from her face, still damp from the rain, and pulled into a sloppy bun.

But her ankle was still swollen, and I paused looking at it. Her weight was shifted onto her uninjured side, and her toe lightly touched the floorboards. A swell of guilt spiralled in my stomach, but I didn't want her to catch me looking, so I shifted my attention to Nel, who stood next to her with a similar sense of astonishment.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lila apologised, her hands folding in her lap, and like that, the teasing was replaced with courtesy. Her eyes copied her voice, softening to the point of looking like a bubbling liquid, carrying the warmth of a sunlight surface. "I didn't realise that your mother was home."

Join the team.

"Ohh, you must be Helga's l–l–little frieeeend," Miriam copied her smile before stumbling forward. A lump was forming in my throat the more she talked, and it burned like a ball of fire as she staggered. She was stumbling even more then Lila, who actually had an injury, there was absolutely no ambiguity that there was alcohol in her system.

Lila, who had stopped beside me, seemed follow my line of thinking, and blinked at Miriam's slow travel. I wanted to move her out of the way, so she wouldn't have to deal with Miriam, but the older woman had already held a shaky hand in Lila's direction. I rolled my eyes with a small huff and looked away, but Lila forced a smile and shook her hand. But even I could spot the flicker of hesitation nestled in the corners of her eyes.

"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Pataki," she said anyway, the smile stretching high on her face. "I'm Lila Sawyer."

"Lila?" Miriam repeated, then softly smile. "T–T–That's a veeery pretty name, d–dear."

The potential warmth in her words was lost beneath the stuttering and slurring. And Miriam was holding eye contact with Lila for an almost uncomfortable period of time, I decided now was the time to step in.

"Okay, well, as lovely as this little chat has been—" I laid a hand on Lila's shoulder and gently began edging away. "—we've gotta get going. Homework to be doing, places to see."

I threw a quick glance at Nel, who nodded and turned around to head back inside. Lila chewed on her lip and hobbled through the door when Miriam suddenly spoke up.

"Just a minute, Helga!" she called, and we both turned in sync. "W–W–Would y–y–your friend be staying the n–n–night?"

Lila and I looked at each other, realising we'd never even discussed the matter, before she shrugged with a short nod. I chewed on my lip, this was the first sleepover I would have in years. It was mostly out of necessity—Lila was too injured to go back home, and even if she wasn't, there's no way she could hide her stumbling from her Dad—but still.

My last sleepover had been at Phoebe's when we had first entertained high school. Her house was much stricter than mine, and we were only allowed to watch animated movies, but we had still managed to have fun. I remembered Iron Giant playing in the background as we munched on crispy chips together, debating which one of us had the worse teacher.

"We're friends."

My stomach was still tightly wound into a knot, but I let out a breath and turned back to Miriam. It wasn't a big deal, nothing bad would happen, Lila was here to stay—I had to keep repeating it over and over.

"Yeah, probably," I nodded, forcing my face into submission. "That a problem?"

"No, not with me," Miriam shook her head and drew her hands to her chest, fingers tangling. "But your father—"

I groaned, because of course Bob would have a problem with it. He had a problem with anything that didn't bring me complete misery.

Miriam slightly frowned, an odd look for her, and she shut her mouth. She stood on the other end of the hallway, but I could see her eyes moving behind her glasses up and down my face. It was so weird, they didn't appear frazzled, and slipped over me like raindrops.

"—doesn't matter," she eventually said.

I froze and slowly glanced up with surprise.

"I mean, he'll be happy to hear that you're finally inviting friends over."

She was smiling.

It was wobbly, and her eyes were weaved with red, but it was still a smile. I was at a loss and couldn't so much but stare at it, feeling something shift in my chest. The knots were still there but they no longer were so tight that the warmth was wrung out.

I was aware that both Lila and Nel were watching us, and quickly nodded my silent reply and shoved them both inside my room. I slammed the door shut and heaved a sigh, although I couldn't feel the air fill my chest. Lila watched as I pasted my back against the wood, her eyes bubbling with confusion, but it was Nel I was staring at.

Her bright eyes burned with the same astonishment I felt, a similar thought running through her mind.

Miriam hadn't stuttered once during that sentence.

She wasn't alone.

There were others, lined up on either side of her. They were dressed in white, hoodies pulled over their faces like glowing shadows, but none gleamed like she did. The shadows melted into their uniforms, their gloved hands curled tightly behind their rigid backs. I couldn't see their faces—couldn't discern any features other than the shape of their bodies—but they loomed over her like phantoms.

The room was soaked in darkness, and she sauntered forward like a cat. The cloak was sweeping behind her, pouring across the floor like a veil, and opened up to reveal a pair of long legs. Her blonde hair flowed freely down her shoulders, and her boots clapped echoed against the ground.

I expected those invisible shackles, binding and holding me down, but could move freely. There was a cloudiness spinning in my mind, like a puddle filling up the space behind my eyes, and moving too quickly almost made me flounder. The breath flowing from my lungs ached, like someone was squeezing me tight, and I cast my gaze to my hands.

They were caked in dirt, and the vambraces were gone. I pressed my palms against the floor and pushed myself up, shakily crawling onto my knees. The air was sour on my tongue and swelled in my throat in sombre curls. The walls were no longer lit up with graffiti, and looking around, I realised the shadows were melting into a deep blue. It trailed around me, dancing across my skin like teeth, and rippled like a mirage.

There was a silky chuckle and I looked back to the woman. She had stopped, standing below the platform, and looked up at me with her hands pressed behind her back.

She was a level below me, her red lips curled, and yet somehow managed to feel bigger. The boots clung to her legs, reaching the tops of her thighs, and her hands were smeared in white.

She raised her fingers and I froze, my heart falling silent.

I knew what to expect—this happened like clockwork—but instead of snapping her fingers, her palm pressed flat against something. The breath stopped in my throat, and I stared at her hand that smoothed against thin air. Faint ripples danced beneath her palm, radiating in the shadows like water.

And then I realised it.

Those ripples—they weren't air or a mirage—it was a forcefield.

I was surrounded in an invisible barrier.

The realisation snapped through me, and a red light burned from above.

And the woman smirked.

Lila slammed her locker with a sharp bang! that had nearby people glancing over in confusion. She didn't look at them, pressing her forehead against the metal, and squeezed her eyes shut. The tousled hair strands fell around her face, and glancing up, I noticed how tightly scrunched her expression was. Her lips were pulled across her face, clamped shut, but she released a small, high pitched squeak.

"My thoughts exactly," I muttered from the floor, and pressed my own forehead against my knees. My hoodie was pulled up, shielding me from the students passing by, and my hands wrapped around my shins. My blazer was in a crumbled heap beside me, squished beneath my school bag leaning against the lockers.

The pair of us were exhausted.

You see, we had to deal with another set of attacks last night—well, actually this morning. It had lasted for borderline an hour and when we managed to actually get back home, there had been very little hope in falling back asleep.

And to make matters worse, Lila's ankle was taking longer to heal. It was still swollen and red, wrapped up in the bandage, and flared whenever she moved too quickly. Nel had said it should take two full days for it to properly heal and because of the attack last night, the process would likely take longer.

I hadn't wanted Lila to come—hell, I had almost woken up the whole house telling her to stay behind—but the stubborn idiot had just rolled her eyes and transformed anyway. I barely could get out another word before she had swung out from my bedroom window and I'd been forced to catch up so she wouldn't get herself hurt.

Obviously, that hadn't worked very well.

"Hey, Lila!"

Our eyes shot open with mutual groans and slowly turned in the direction that voice had come from. A dull sense of dread hit me when I found myself staring at Arnold and Gerald, heading down the hallway for us.

As usual, Gerald's blazer laid crumbled from his body, evident creases marking the fabric, and the buttons had long since been lost. He had a wide smile stretched across his face, and one hand clasped around the red bag hanging from his shoulder.

And then beside him was Arnold, who as usual wasn't wearing his blazer. It was probably stuffed into his back, leaving him in his white shirt that flopped from his arms. His bangs fell over his eyes, like he had actually brushed them this morning, and golden strands curled around his ears.

Gerald was taller by a few inches but Arnold easily managed to keep up with his friend. His hand was curled around his strap, and he glanced apologetically at the students Gerald accidentally bumped into.

"Where were you tod—you!" Gerald stopped with a loud gasp when he noticed me. His eyes bugged open, his mouth dropping like he had witnessed me transform into a werewolf or something, and Arnold ran into him. The blonde let out a soft oof! and scowled at his friend until he followed his gaze and froze when he saw me. And for the first time, I didn't feel giddy looking at him. There was a tightness in my chest, and an even stronger sense of emptiness swirling in my stomach.

"Yes, me," I murmured and shut my eyes, letting my head rest against the lockers. I could feel Lila moving, pressing her back against the lockers and sliding down until she was slumped beside me. Her head rested on my shoulder and normally that would've sent me into a spat, but right now, I was too tired to care.

"Hi," was all she said.

"Whoa," I heard Gerald say, and could picture him raising his eyebrows. "You both look knackered."

"Yeah?" I frowned, eyes still shut. "Well, your hair makes you look like a stick of broccoli."

"I'm wearing a hat, dude."

Huh.

My eyelids fluttered open and I glanced in his direction, only to realise that, yes, he was in fact wearing a hat. It was ugly—I'd seen hockey jerseys in sports museums in better shape—but it was still there.

". . . Oh."

Arnold was watching me, eyes focused, and a rosy blush soaked my cheeks. The emptiness was beating like a drum, and I scrambled to look anywhere but at him. I could feel Lila blinking, her eyes fluttering open, and raising her hand to stare at me.

"Man, when did you two even end up sleeping?" Gerald asked, oblivious to the growing tension, and stepped forward. He had addressed us both, but it was clear from the way he stared at Lila that only one answer concerned him. Not that I could really blame him, I suppose, considering what had happened yesterday.

You're a bull—

"Who keeps track of that stuff?" Lila answered with a wave of her hand and looked around me to communicate with the boys.

She was speaking like usual, her voice light and feathery, but with one glance, it was clear how exhausted Lila was. Her skin was too pale, the circles beneath her eyes like bruises, and for once her hair didn't flutter down her shoulders like she was in a fantasy movie.

You see, when we'd gotten back from the attack, Lila had managed to get some sleep. It wasn't much—two hours—but it was something. Running around while her ankle was so injured probably left her more worn then usual. So, while she'd been sleeping, I'd spent the night washing our uniforms, using the rest of Olga's detergent, and when that had been done, actually gone over some homework.

The alarm went off what felt like hours later, and Lila had been in a complete daze getting ready. The two hours of sleep had done her worse than if she had gotten none. Her eyes were glazed over and she couldn't stop yawning, which hadn't been appreciated considering she hadn't yet brushed her teeth. Abd when she had looked in the mirror, she had clucked her tongue with a 'fuck it' under her breath, and tied it from her face into a messy bun.

But the more she had moved, and the more the breeze had swept by, the more her hair strands had fallen. We had decided to transform and swing to school, not ready for the school bus, and when we had untransformed on the roof, the wind had been strong. So now, there was a good majority of strands that escaped their confines and tumbled down her shoulders. It honestly looked like she had slept with the bun in, or that she was going through a bad breakup.

Lila, it turns out was many things, but a morning person she was not.

I noticed the slight pause from the boy's ends and turned back in their direction. Gerald's hand was clenched around his bag strap and he was frowning, scanning Lila's face with concern.

Arnold's face was clouded, and his eyes were on Lila then back on mine. But when he realised that I was staring back, he bit his lip and cast his gaze onto the ground.

I couldn't explain why but that had sent a swirl of hollowness curling like a wave in my chest, and I ground my jaw.

He hesitated before clucking his tongue. "So, I take it you're both friends again."

It wasn't a question.

Lila was oblivious and nodded with a tired smile.

He looked up, face tightening at her answer, and I tried swallowing the lump that was forming in my throat.

"Sorry to disappoint you, football head."

The words were out before I had even registered them, and a surprised frown transformed his face.

"Wha—" he glanced at Gerald, who shrugged, then back to me. "I'm not disappointed."

You're a bully.

My lips twitched.

"Yeah, that's why you're frowning right now."

"No—I'm frowning cause I'm being accused of feeling something I don't."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must've misread that blatant lack of enthusiasm on your face. My fault, obviously you're tickled pink."

"I'm not tickled anything—would you stop accusing me?"

"Yeah, whatever footba—"

"Whoa, whoa, time out," Gerald placed himself between us, snapping his confused face in both directions. It almost made me laugh, he looked like a lost parrot. "Where's this hostility coming from?"

"Yeah, you guys have never fought like this," Lila agreed with a slight frown. She sat up straight tugging the thick sock further up her wounded ankle and looked between us. Her eyes were squinted, in a way that reminded me of a Sherlock Holmes caricature, and they mostly glanced at me. "What is going on?"

I glanced back at Arnold, who stared back just as frostily. His eyes were so different; they weren't like yesterday, where they had been so solid there was no room for hesitation, but still firm. The green swirls of tranquillity had frozen into cooly rimmed orbs.

"Nothing," Arnold muttered, crossing his arms tight, and looking at his shoes.

"Yeah," I agreed, nodding despite the throbbing in my chest, and placed my elbows on my knees. "Absolutely nothing."

His face hardened.

"Even more then nothing over here," he added, slightly louder than before.

"Oh, I doubt it," I scowled at him. "There's nothing that can surpass my nothing over here."

He slowly looked up, his jaw tightening, and a spark flashing in his eyes. "Except my nothing."

"Well, my—"

"Okay, okay, we get it," Gerald cut in, spreading his hands between us, and pressing one against his friend's chest. Arnold glanced down then sighed, stepping back, and wrapped his fingers around his bag straps. "Jesus, I'm sorry for asking."

He and Lila were looking between us even more frantically now, trying to solve the unsaid words between Arnold and I, when the bell rung. It blared from every corner in the hallway and nearby students jolted, looking up and groaning as they slammed their lockers shut. I was immediately on my feet, shrugging on my blazer and pulling the ends of my ponytails from the collar.

"Well," I said, pulling on my bag and helping Lila heave herself up from the floor. "That's my cue."

Lila stared with bafflement as I dropped her hand and quickly turned around, taking long strides to leave for my class when she suddenly exclaimed, "Wait—Helga!"

I stopped but didn't turn, looking over my shoulder. Her bag was in one hand and her face twisted, threaded with a confusion that made her eyes blossom.

"Algebra's this way," she pointed out, jerking her thumb over her shoulder.

It became obvious how much she had shifted her weight when she suddenly stumbled. Gerald was quick to move to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and steadying her. His eyes were warm, lips moving to form the questions, but she shushed him.

Arnold remained beside the both of them, his hands wrapped around his straps, and a contemplative look twisted his face. His eyes were usually so bright and expressive, emotions shinning through so clearly, it was like I was looking into a window. But now they were clouded, hard, and it drove me insane that I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

His eyes flickered back to me, and he clamped his mouth shut. The blonde tendrils fell over his forehand, hanging above his eyes in that adorable way, and the heat swarming chest quickly spiked into agitation.

"Yeah it is," I agreed, and then turned to face them with my fists on my hips. Gerald glanced up, bemused, and Arnold slightly rose his brows. "But I figured heading this way would exclude certain company."

I wasn't even glancing at Arnold, but the shock that rippled across their faces were hilarious. Gerald's jaw actually dropped, his gaze flashing to his best friend, and Lila's eyebrows shot up her face and into her hair.

Arnold's mouth hung wide and his eyes stretched as wide as they could, until they locked with mine. Then, something passed over his face, darkening into a glare, and he pressed his lips so tight together that a muscle in his jaw twitched.

I smirked. "Seeya in Algebra, Lila!"

I swung around, waving lazily over my shoulder, and headed in the opposite direction. I could hear Lila still calling for me as I sauntered down the hallway with the biggest grin on my face. Some people looked at me with alarm, scared that I was so happy, but I didn't care.

The look on Arnold's face had been too good.

So, remember when I said that I'd never step inside another P.E. class again?

"What was that, Shortman?! You're playing like a girl!"

I lied.

"But Ms. Ainsley, you're—"

"I'll hear no such blasphemy, thank you!"

Stubbing my toe against the wooden boards, I raised my face. Ainsley was glaring at Arnold, her clipboard clutched in her shaking white knuckles, and her nose wrinkled and red. He had a slightly frazzled expression and stumbled backwards like he was in a shootout until he bumped into Sid.

I sighed.

It was volleyball—a bad sign. Typically, Ainsley preferred sports that had no set up (she wasn't exactly patient), which volleyball typically required. But the rare times she did pick it normally meant her bad mood could be ranked at least a high seven. You see, no one was good at volleyball—except maybe Savannah—so when inevitable someone wasn't perfect, she had a chance to take her bad mood out on them. The fact that her lipstick was a bright shade of fuchsia certainly wasn't helping matters.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph—what was that, Peterson?!"

Thankfully, it wasn't quite bad enough for her to jump in to slap the ball around herself.

"LESTER!"

Yet.

I sighed. Criminy, did I regret turning up. I'd wanted to continue my streak of ditching again, but Lila had grabbed onto me before I could leave the classroom. Even with her ankle the way it was, Lila was stronger than she looked and had no problem dragging me to this torturous place.

Ainsley's eyes had hit me like lasers the moment I'd walked through the door and she had quickly stampeded in my direction. The grin she had worn stretched from ear to ear, and her teeth glinted like fangs, like I'd run into Dracula in an abandoned alleyway. A Dracula who liked to wear bright red gym suits, had a 90's haircut and an affinity for bold lipstick colours.

"Pataki!" she'd announced, digging her fists into her hips. "Have you thought anymore about that proposal of mine?"

I had quickly shut her down then taken Lila and scampered off to the side of the court. If it had been any other day, I got the feeling Ainsley would've chased me down. But, as it stood, she still had issues with her boyfriend—Reed Maguire—and decided to immediately set up the game.

Thankfully, her mood hadn't been foul enough to let some of us sit off to the side. Or maybe it was because she wanted the fiercest players on the court today. Either way, there were a number of students lingering behind the court lines, separated in small groups, and conversing like the game wasn't even happening.

Savannah was one of the six girls playing on the court. She was the only one who vaguely understood how this sport worked—yes, that was including Ainsley—so she was crouched in the front of her team. Her long hair was wrapped around in a thick bun at the top of her head, her eyes focused on her opponent behind the net.

"Okay, so Arnold wouldn't tell me," Lila said from my side, peering at me with squinted eyes. "What's the problem between you two?"

Oh, criminy.

I sighed and rolled my head in her direction. She was rested against the wall besides me, scanning me like I was a jigsaw puzzle with mismatched pieces, and clenching the water bottle in her hands. It as Gerald's, but he had left it with her before leaving with—well—him to go play on the court.

Noticeably, Lila wasn't drowsy like this morning. She'd been hounding me since our first periods had begun, trying to find out what was going on between Arnold and I. I guess the mystery for her was so great that it zapped the exhaustion straight from her body.

I swear, this girl made no sense.

The circles around her eyes weren't as dark, and she had since changed her hair. Savannah, in Bio, had taken one look at her then demanded she be allowed to fix it. So, now it was pulled out of her face in a loose braid that fell down her back.

"Lila," I smiled tightly, and her eyes shimmered with anticipation. "Remember that little talk we had about boundaries?"

Her face contorted, slapping her lips together and puffing out her cheeks. I almost laughed at the near childish pout on her face.

"Oh, come onnnnnn," she groaned and bumped her shoulder against mine. "Something is clearly up with you both, but neither will say it."

She snuck a particular look at me, slightly raising her brows, and I feigned a shrug, looking around. I briefly watched some of the girls standing in huddles outside the court lines, while the guys trained their attention on the ball flinging over the net.

Instinctually, my eyes were drawn to a certain blonde, and I could feel my heart begin to race. He was crouched slightly, his knees bouncing, and his gaze completely zeroed in on the ball. Savannah was on the opposite team, directly across from him behind the net, and she occasionally spared some glances at him, but he didn't notice.

My stomach tightened, but I couldn't find it in my heart to blame her. He had such an intense look on concentration on his face, mouth hanging wide open, which should've looked dorky or even ugly, but it was cute on him.

I could feel Lila's eyes and blushed.

I looked back at her and she waggled her eyebrows up and down with a shit eating grin. Growling, I reached out and snatched the bottle from her hands, spinning off the lid and throwing back my head to chug the water. As I gulped the drink down, she suddenly gave a loud howl of a gasp and slapped her hands onto her mouth.

"Wait—are you guys actually secretly dating?!"

The water heaved in my throat, and a long silver projectile fire from my mouth with a sharp smack! that hit Eugene, who had been passing by with Sheena. He yelped when the salvia covered water splattered across his face and soaked the front of his shirt.

"My new shirt!" he cried with horror, holding out the labels.

Lila and I both stared at him.

Her mouth had dropped. "Oh . . ."

"Shit," I completed.

Sheena was trying to calm him down, clamping her hands on his shoulder and asking if he was alright, while her eyes frantically moved around the room. But the poor kid seemed almost traumatised that this was happening to him again. Hell, I felt bad just watching him.

"Um, excuse me!" We all looked over to Ainsley, who appeared quite peeved, and had cupped her hands around her mouth to shout at us. "We're trying to play a game over here!"

She wildly gestured at the court and we realised with mortification that the game had stopped to stare at the spectacle. Eyes pointed in our direction from all over the gym, zipping from the crying Eugene to the now empty bottle in my hand. Oh, crimin—I quickly tossed the bottle to Lila, who caught it with a roll of her eyes, then turned back to Ainsley with an apologetic smile.

"Um, yes—sorry!" she called back then turned around to Eugene and said in a softer voice, "C'mon Eugene, I'll take you to get cleaned up."

The poor kid still had a red face, scrunched with tears, but looking at her, he nodded his consent. Lila and Sheena placed their hands on his shoulders and guided him out. Only Lila threw me a pointed glance when she passed me, one that read this is so not the end of our conversation.

I sighed and wrapped my hands around my stomach, looking around. Most of the faces were turning away going back to the game that slowly sprang back to action, but I froze when I noticed Arnold.

His eyes were firm with that unreadable look and his lips were a tight line. His gaze ran up and down my face, and a red hot blush climbed up my neck and burned my chest. Mentally, I cursed the hormones blazing in me—because that was all they were.

Like the rest of us, Arnold wore the standard gym uniform—a white shirt and ugly crimson shorts. His skin glistened from the sweat, soaking the front of his shirt and forming patches beneath his armpits. It was gross, but somehow, he managed to look dazzling.

It was beyond annoying especially considering I was still mad at him. His brows were slightly drawn together and he ran a hand through his hair to scrap back the strands that fell into his eyes. They had since fallen from that side swept style this morning, scattering over his forehead in a tangled mess. But his action did nothing, and the strands were flopping back against his face.

A soft heat spread in my chest and I swallowed.

That was it—my weakness.

The way Arnold's hair always fell back over his face, hanging just above his eyes. It always made me weak at the knees. Well, besides his hands, arms, the way his smile lifted slightly higher on the left and, of course, those beautiful eyes. Hell, even seeing him like this—serious and resolute—it was, well, weird. I was so used to seeing him smile, but still it was also strangely ho—

Ugh.

This whole teenager thing was really pissing me off.

Grinding my teeth, I sharply turned away and took some satisfaction when, through my peripherals, I could see his mouth drop.

Serves him right—

"Well, well, well—what do we have here?"

The low voice was directed at me, and unfortunately familiar.

I slowly looked over my shoulder and groaned when my suspicions were right about the faces staring back at me.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd stood tall with her cronies on either side of her. Her dark hair was flipped to one side, like she had come from a photoshoot, and her makeup was sharp and dark. Her painted lips were pulled into that annoying, know–it–all smirk, and her dark eyes glimmered. And of course, she somehow was managing to make our ugly gym uniform look designer.

She raised her chin. "Seems like there's trouble in paradise, girls."

The girls in question looked at each other, the confusion evident on their faces. I rolled my eyes, wondering when they weren't confused. It seemed Rhonda liked to tauntingly address people before even telling her friends about it.

I sighed, turning around to face them, and addressed her with utter boredom. "What are you talking about, Rhonda?"

She took offense to this—good—and the smirk dropped from her face.

"Well, it's obvious that someone's having a little quarrel with Hollywood's golden boy," she shrugged. "He finally realise how thick–headed you are?"

I was shaking the anger boiling hot beneath my skin. I wrapped my hands around my biceps to stop myself from whacking her, because that was what she wanted—a fight. Maybe not a physical one, but certainly something that would pass the time. Because that was what Rhonda was about—image. It was why she flaunted her wealth around so much, chose obnoxious clothing that got her looks, she loved the attention. And something that she especially liked was tearing down other's images to make her own superior.

In other words, she liked being a bitch.

A part of me—a large part—wanted to put my abilities to the test. I hadn't fought someone in a school setting, but I had taken down a gang of men. I may not be as quick as Rhonda—verbally speaking, that is—but I was definitely stronger. Maybe . . .

Helga.

And there it was—Lila's voice, yapping in my ears and reminding me that this wasn't the way to go, Helga. I was better than this, all she wanted was a fight, and yada yada yada—you get the point.

Helga.

Ugh, fine.

Breathing through my nose, I spun around to leave.

"I don't have time for you, Rhonda."

"No, but you have time for the girl that your guy is head over heels for," she suddenly spat, and I stopped. Her words hit me like bolts, rolling down my spine like daggers, and a soft gasp crept between my teeth. "Sound familiar?"

Helga, don't do this, you are better than this.

I glanced over my shoulder.

A mocking smile curved her lips, and Rhonda confidently stepped back. "Yeah, of course it sounds familiar—and pathetic," she dropped the smirk, and placed a hand on her hip. "Truth hurts, doesn't it, Pataki?"

You're better than this, you're better than this, you are better than this.

I wanted more than anything to knock her from her block. I didn't know why she was suddenly so determined to start something, especially since we had barely even talked, but she was doing a fine job playing the bitch.

Helga.

I paused, the voice ringing even louder, and reluctantly lowered my fists.

She wasn't worth it, I told myself and spun around. The blood roared in my ears, popping with my heartbeats, and I clenched my jaw when I heard their laughter. Criminy, why did it matter what they said? Why was it affecting me so—

A ball suddenly rolled to my feet.

Eyes widened, I stopped and watched as the volleyball came to a stop against my toes. I blinked, realising that the sounds surrounding me. There were squeaks against the floorboards, and as I looked up, players and Ainsley gesturing for me to throw it back so they could continue the game.

I could feel my heart racing as I bent down to pick the ball up with shaky fingers. I bit my lip and slowly rose, studying the ball I held in my fingers. The calls were getting intense as the seconds crawled, but I was no longer paying them any attention. It was all lost, drowned beneath the pounding in my chest, and the anger tightened into a knot in my stomach.

I had always hidden myself behind my walls, built from the bricks people used to throw at me. The sun couldn't reach me, so I dwelled in the darkness, and anything I felt, I would keep clutched to my chest. I would cover those hot flashes of fury with distance and a smooth, blank canvas.

You're a bully.

But now that everything was happening all at once, those urges were rising up within me, and before I had even realised—

"AHHH!"

—I had swung around and pegged the volleyball at Rhonda.

She had already turned back to her friends, so the ball slammed straight in between her shoulders. She screamed, flying forward, and her friends were quick to catch her. The noises from all around came to a halt, like everyone was holding their breath, and Rhonda swung around in my direction.

I smacked a hand over my lips to cover up the laughter. Her eyes glinted dangerously, a demonic look passing over her face, and I took delight in musing to myself that she was mad.

I smirked and placed my hands on my hips. "Truth isn't the only thing that hurts, is it, Rhonda?"

It was so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

Rhonda stared me down, a stony glare carved into her dark eyes, and crossing my arms, I glared right back. I wasn't scared of her in the slightest and the anger still coursing through me was like poison. I wasn't about her to let her mess with me and get off scot free.

She held my gaze, burning like a dark copper, and slowly lowered herself to the ground and scooped up the ball. Her lips pulled back to expose her white teeth as she balanced the ball in her palm over her shoulder.

"You stupid—" she hissed then pegged the ball in my direction.

And surprisingly, it was a good shot.

It flew at an astonishing rate, the air spiralling and whistling around it, and had it not been for my Guardian reflexes, I wouldn't have caught it. The ball slipped right into my waiting hands but managed to smack into my chest. I gasped, the air shocked from my body, and my skin slightly burning from the contact.

What the—

I blinked a couple of times, sucking in a breath, and rubbed the no doubt bruised area. Criminy, who would've known this cheerleader had some muscle to her?

Speaking of which . . .

I scowled at the brunette's stupid smug face, feeling my eyelid twitch.

"Why you—" I chucked the ball from my chest. Her friends squeaked, moving aside, while Rhonda's face barely changed as she reached up and caught it. I growled, cursing those genes that had blessed her with a tall statue. She glared then chucked the ball back at me, and when I caught it, I lobbed it right back.

Soon, we were emerged in a volleyball fight that escalated in the pair of us throwing out abuse at one another.

"You're such a stupid dingbat—"

"Rather that then a bitch—"

"—oh, you so did not call me that—"

"—I'll call you much worse, princess—"

"—why you little—"

Ainsley suddenly popped up between us and blew hard into her whistle. The noise cracked into the air, reverberating in our ears, and everyone groaned and covered their ears. Rhonda jumped back with a squeal and I dropped the ball, clutching the sides of my head.

Criminy, could she give the Mutants a run for their money.

"Jesus," Rhonda gasped when Ainsley had stopped.

Ainsley pointed at her, "Don't say his name in vain—" then gestured between us "—now I'm beginning to sense some hostility between you two."

I stared at her—yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

"Now, back in my day, we didn't get our anger out through words," she continued, oblivious that we were all looking at her bizarrely, and slammed a fist into her palm. "We got them out through violence!"

I blinked a couple of times, propping a hand on my waist, and glanced at Rhonda. The brunette rose an eyebrow and shrugged, seemingly just as confused as I was.

"That sounds a lot like bottling it up," I finally said, repeating Lila's words from last night, and turned back to my insane teacher.

Rhonda nodded. "Yeah, and emotional suppressions been proven to have worse effects in the long term for people."

Ainsley opened her mouth to respond when what Rhonda said sunk in and, like us, turned to stare at the cheerleader.

Rhonda blinked, finding herself at the centre of attention and, for once, not exactly enjoying it.

She scoffed, crossing her arms, and flipped her hand. "It's, like, basic psychology 101, dummies," she said. "Suppressing how you feel and not dealing with the problem just lets everything fester inside you, which cane have physical consequences, but, more importantly, psychological consequences that makes everything harder and harder for you to process, therefore getting worse and worse to confront. Read a book, geniuses!"

I should've been insulted, but honestly, I was more shocked then anything. Rhonda could read?

"Shh!" Ainsley pointed her finger at Rhonda's nose, who frowned and stepped away from her. "It's not suppression cause you're releasing it! Into someone's face!"

Again, Rhonda and I looked blankly at one another.

"Because today, ladies, you'll be taking out your anger with one another and dealing with it through—"

"—an intense violent round of wrestling!"

Her voice boomed like she had a microphone hooked to her lungs. Ainsley's gloved—she had snagged them from someone's office—fist snapped into the air and she hooked one of her feet over the ropes that rung tight from the beams.

Rolling her eyes, Rhonda leaned over and cupped her mouth to whisper into my ear, "She could've told us that before making us set all this up."

I sighed but was forced to agree with her.

You see, before Ainsley had decided to finish her proposal, she had forced everyone in the class to quickly set up the wrestling ring. It was pretty old and had once bold colours that matched the school's signature combination, with a foamy red stage and matching black beams and ropes. But it must've been old because time had turned the red into a brown that was dotted with stains.

I wrinkled my nose, eyeing one in particular in the centre of the platform—I couldn't tell if they were made from piss or something else. Criminy did anything get washed when Ainsley was in charge?

Speaking of whom, the woman was stood at the front of the ring where she could proudly address the crowd below. And by crowd, I meant the students she was forcing to endure . . . whatever this was. Her were spread wide, like she was the Roman fucking Emperor, and she wore a crescent moon–like grin.

The faces that stared back at her were pulled with a mixture of emotions—mostly confusion, although there was some intrigue shining in their eyes. Specifically, Gerald was looking like a kid on Christmas morning, squeezing his water bottle until it crinkled loudly, and flicking his gaze between Rhonda and I. Lila had her forehead in her hand, her face twisted with exasperation, though I didn't know if it was at me or him. And Arnold stood behind the pair, his bright eyes darting between Rhonda and I, and his lip caught between his teeth. Eugene, Savannah and Sheena, on the other hand, seemed more confused than anything.

"Ladies!" Ainsley swung around, snapping her fingers, and I balked at the near demonic look on her face. Her lips pulled back over her teeth, not quite a smile but definitely not a grimace, and her cheeks were crinkled. "Are you ready for your bloody and terrible match?!"

Silence was what met her question.

Rhonda and I were propped in the corner of the ring, our arms against the ropes, watching the entire thing with almost intrigue. At her question, Rhonda's brows snapped together, and she wrapped her arms around her chest. She looked unsure—not that I could blame her—and for once, it had made her speechless.

I, on the other hand, knew exactly what to say.

"Yeeeeeah," I rolled my eyes. "We're not doing this."

There were some soft gasps from the crowd—not many people had told Ainsley no—but none were as loud as Ainsley's.

"What?!" Her jaw dropped and she reeled back like she'd bene slapped wrapping her hands around the rope behind her. "But—what about your anger?!"

I shrugged. "I lost it like ten minutes ago."

"Yeah," Rhonda nodded beside me and stepped forward. "The set up for this wasn't exactly quick . . ."

"WHAT?!" Ainsley's eyes popped so wide they looked like they were about to come out of her skull. "So, you don't wanna punch each other in the face?!"

Oh, criminy.

But Rhonda paused, her finger trailing up to the corner of her mouth and looked up at the roof with contemplation.

"Well, that's not quite what I said . . ."

Um, excuse me?

"Hey!" I objected.

"But this is wrestling," Rhonda continued as if I hadn't spoken and propped herself back against the ropes. "Not karate."

I rose an eyebrow, placing my hands on my hips. Like she knew the difference.

"It can be whatever you want it to be, sweetcheeks," Ainsley stated, standing back up from the ropes, and propping her hands onto her hips.

And my jaw snapped open when I realised just how tempted Rhonda seemed. Her eyes turned back in my direction and she pressed her lips in a tight line, like she was really weighing her options.

Oh, hell to the no.

"Okay, no," I said, stepping in and holding up my hands like I was taming an animal—which, when you considered it was Ms. Ainsley, wasn't too far off. "We're not doing this. We're not wrestling just for your sick satisfaction, Ainsley."

Ainsley, being the only adult in this situation, pouted. "Aw, why not?"

"Well, for one thing, we're not even wearing the proper equipment," I stated, exasperated. "I mean, you literally slapped a stupid helmet on us and called it a day. Where's our mouth guard?"

Said helmet was extremely unattractive, by the way. Not that there was such a thing as an attractive helmet, but this in particular was un–appealing to look at. It was like Ainsley had cracked open two dark blue moons and shoved them onto our heads. Rhonda had pretty much cried when she had gotten hers, helmet hair and all.

I scowled, it wasn't even a wrestling helmet.

"Well, we don't all get what we want, do we, Pataki?" Ainsley snapped, scrunching her face in a way that I'd imagine a child would. But seeing the expression shifting on my face, she scoffed. "Oh, c'mon, this is nothing compared to the wrestling in ancient Greece! Be thankful I'm not making you do it in the nude!"

My face zapped red.

Gerald, who had gulping from his bottle, immediately spat out his drink when he heard her suggestion. The water hit Eugene's back, running down his shoulders and soaking his new shirt, and he let out a startled cry. Gerald bent over his knees, hacking his lungs up, and Lila whacked on his back to help him.

Eugene squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh, come on!"

"Y–You legally couldn't!" I stuttered, drawing back from the unaffected P.E. teacher, and holding my arms to my chest. I caught the way some of the boys looked up at the suggestion, elbowing each other with sly grins. Amongst them, Lila sighed, looking up from Gerald, and buried her face into her palms while a flush crept up Arnold's face.

"S–Stop being p–p–perves!" I shouted at the crowd. But my voice wavered and the air around my face was simmering. There was a mocking laughter that came over my shoulder. I frowned and spun around to Rhonda, who was examining her nails with a small smirk.

"Oh, puh–lease, Helga," she said, not looking up. "As if it was you they were perving on."

Now I shouldn't be offended by that. There was no reason to be offended by that. And yet . . . here I was.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I'm just saying that outta the pair of us, only one meets the classical standards of a well–kept beauty—" she looked up with twinkling eyes "—and that certainly isn't you."

A hot flush washed over me, twisting in my abdomen. The feeling tripled when she gave me a once over that broadened the smirk already on her face. Eyes flickered in my direction, waiting for my response, and I felt myself begin to shake.

Her words shouldn't have affected me. I didn't care what she had to say, the fact that it was about my physical appearance shouldn't matter. But I was already so tightly wound up today, not just from Arnold but from how exhausted I was in general. Yesterday had taken a massive toll on me and I had barely made up for it in sleep. My mind was still heavily stained with those feelings, and Rhonda opening her big mouth wasn't making this any easier.

Of course, I wanted to give in, to fight this girl who had been a bitch for more then two years at this point. But Lila and Nel, they were both in my head, their words spinning like rain. They had told me that my first instinct—to fight, handle things on my own—wasn't always the way, and that stopping to think before acting blindly could do me some good.

I wanted to follow their guidance, to better myself so I wouldn't become what I had yesterday and was actively working on it.

But then Rhonda just had to keep talking.

"Honestly, I thought that violence and aggression were your strong suit, as clearly your looks aren't," she sneered. "But I guess you're nothing more than a stupid meathead."

. . . Okay, fuck diplomacy, this bitch was going down.

Ainsley's eyes lit up when she noticed the look on my face and she let out a small, excited squeal.

"Okay, now to list off the rules very quickly," she cleared her throat, pushing her nose into the air with a massive grin. "Nobitingscratchingorhairpulling,pleasekeepattacksfromeyesandforheavenssakedon'tgoforthegenetials—ARE WE CLEAR?"

I had no idea what any of what she had said had been, but that had no effect on Rhonda and I. Our gazes were locked on one another, tension swelling, and we both nodded our agreement.

"Ms. Ainsley!" Arnold's voice rang clear from over my shoulder. "This is ridiculous!"

"Yeah!" I heard Lila agree. "Right, Gerald?"

"Huh?"

"They could seriously get hurt!" Arnold continued.

Ainsley's lipstick stretched into a full toothed smile and she practically vibrated with excitement. She crossed her fingers and dashed to the end of the ring.

"Hopefully!" she sung then turned back to us when she was safely nestled against the ropes with the students. "Okay, now girls!"

"Helga, don't do it!"

I glared over my shoulder. "I'll do whatever I want, football hea—WHOA!"

Rhonda suddenly charged at me.

Her footsteps thumped loudly against the matted platform and I whirled around, throwing up my hands. But she was quick and rammed her shoulder into my stomach, locking her arms against my waist. The air was pummelled from my abdomen and she slammed me into the ground.

THUD!

My head was knocked against the platform and the impact rung strong in my ears. There was a collective 'Ooooh!' from the crowd as they watched. I tried sucking in long breaths, but the stench of piss assaulted my nostrils, coming in strong waves from the floor. But the smell curled in her throat like a disease and my eyes snapped open, I practically vomited the gross air from my body.

"That all you got?!" Rhonda hissed, and when I looked up at her I was taken back by how psychotic she looked. Her brown eyes were sharp, fired and wild, and almost seemed animalistic with the black liner. There were some cracks in her lipstick as her lips pulled back to bare her teeth. There were wisps of hair that slipped from her helmet, hanging like cable cords around her face, and a slight growl came from her throat.

For a moment all I could do was stare up at her. Because I really hadn't been expecting that. Rhonda was a cheerleader and cheerleaders didn't do this. They were girls, they got their jock boyfriends to fight their battles, not this.

I scrunched up my face and hurled a spit ball into her eyes. She yelped and reeled back, her fingers leaving my wrists, and rolled onto her feet. I twisted onto my side, pressing my hands against the mat and scrambling onto my feet.

"What the hell was that?!" I demanded, voice echoing against the silence. I leaned over my knees to suck in shallow breaths, finding the air much fresher up here.

And when Rhonda looked back at me, it was with an expression ground with anger. Her eyes were hard, and she swiped her face once more before crouching down into a defensive pose.

"Right," I murmured to myself and mimicked her stance, holding up my fists.

"Helga—"

"Can it!" We both shouted, glaring at the nosey blonde.

Arnold's mouth clamped and his brow pressed into a disappointed frown. I rolled my eyes, not thinking much of it, and turned around to charge in Rhonda's direction. My footsteps were loud, and her gaze went from mine to the fist now flying for her face. She gnashed her teeth and her hands flashed out before I could touch her and her fingers wrapped around my knuckles.

The breath halted in my throat and she swung me around. I flew like a sack and her shoulder rammed between my shoulder blades. The impact made me grimace but I bit down on my tongue and swung out my other fist. I tried swiping for her blindly but she caught my fist, and I soon found myself locked in a restraint from behind.

I didn't know whether to be scared or impressed—who knew Rhonda had it in her?

Digging my heels into the ground, I tightened my abdomen and ducked to my knees, heaving my arms out in a circular motion. It lugged Rhonda's screaming self over my shoulders and into the air before she slammed back into the floor with a gigantic—

THUD!

Everyone cried out sympathetically, except Ainsley who giggled like a maniac. Rhonda rolled onto her back, face twisted from the smell, but I quickly jumped onto her hips before she could get back up.

Her eyes flew open and I bared my teeth, ready to slap her silly when—

Helga! I froze and looked up at Lila, who frowned with caution. You need to stop, this is ridiculous!

Oh, can it, butterface, I turned back to Rhonda, who was glaring at me. I've waited for years to do this.

But—

Rhonda suddenly snarled and hurled her fist straight into my chest. It was a fierce shot that sent a course of pain rippling through my body. Each of the girls winced, letting out sympathetic noises, and I clutched my chest with a shallow groan.

"Ow, my tit!" I cried and yelped when Rhonda violently shoved me off her. I fell onto my ass, hands flying out behind me, and she was quickly on her feet.

"You actually have tits?" she threw out, placing her hands on her hips and raising her eyebrows.

Everyone let out gasps at that—accompanied with some chuckles—and my blood boiled. That was low, and it didn't help that I was facing the crowd so they could easily look to confirm Rhonda's claims, and also Arnold was there. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that my body was as straight as an arrow, but I didn't want that pointed out to him.

I frowned, the mortification turning into anger, and slid out my hands on the floor behind me. I swallowed, lowering my chin, and shot Rhonda a look that made her growl and charge again. But before she could hit me, I rolled back and pressed my foot into her stomach, managing to throw her over my body. I heard her screaming before there was a loud thump behind me.

"Ah ha!" I bounced onto my toes and whirled around, pointing with a grin. "Is that all you got?!"

She rolled onto her knees, snapping her face to mine over her shoulders, and swiped the loose hair from around her face.

"Shut up, meathead!" she shouted, cheeks flashing pink.

"Stop calling me that!"

"What, meathead?" She practically sang, then climbed onto her feet and pressed her hands to her cheeks. "Aw, does it hurt your wittle feelings?"

And when she feigned that sympathetic look, I found myself moving. The drive pushed through my body like liquid gold and when I reached her, I reeled my hand back then let it snap across her face. There was a sickening crack! that whacked her head back over her shoulder. There was a collectively loud gasp from the crowd then a deep silence as they watched her slowly reach up to clutch her face.

Hell, even I'll admit that my heart was racing. The action had been a sudden jolt, a lightning spur of adrenaline, and I held my breath waiting for Rhonda's reaction.

Some strands curled around her jaw, and her eyes flashed back to mine. The look on her face was intense, the eyeliner was smudged from my hit and slightly clouded down the left outer corner of her eye. She let out an aghast squeal then reeled back her palm then let it smack against my own cheek. The clap was loud, and a stinging nestled into my skin like it was on fire. I staggered backwards, clutching my face, and felt the red welt she had left behind.

I looked up in time to catch her going in for another blow and quickly dodged her hands. I tried hitting her, but she blocked my attacks and soon we became a jumbled mess, both trying to hit each other but epically missing.

"Sweep her legs!" Someone shouted, and when I checked, realised it was Gerald addressing Rhonda. She obeyed, ducking so she could knock her leg against my ankles which sent me tumbling flat onto my back.

"Thanks!" she shouted back, and he gave her a thumbs up. But he winced when Lila and Arnold both elbowed him in the ribs.

Rhonda's back was to me, and she looked ready to walk away when I wrapped my hand around her ankle. She screamed and fell, her face slamming into the ground with an echoing thud.

"Ha!" I shouted victoriously. "Taste of your own medicine, princess!"

She rolled onto her elbows. "God, you're such an idiot, meathead!"

"Says the one lying on the ground!"

"You're also on the ground!"

And then, she suddenly swiped for my face but I rolled away and jumped onto my feet. She watched with a soft scoff but copied my movements, rolling back to her feet and wiping her face.

I held up both my fists, bouncing on my toes, and she rolled her eyes before lunging. She tried slamming her foot into my chest, but I dodged and slipped to the side. My hands flashed and wrapped around her foot and she squealed, her arms flying around in circles.

I moved in close and flung out my fist, but she managed to push against my shoulder. It threw me off and somehow, I managed to hit her helmet instead, which made the thing move around and cover her face. Her scream came out muffled, and I cackled as she stumbled around, trying to fight me.

I let go of her foot and twirled around her then jumped onto her back, wrapping my legs around her thighs and arms over her shoulders. She swung wildly, trying to throw me off her back like a bull, and I clung tighter, hitting against her shoulders.

"WHO'S THE IDIOT NOW, HUH?!"

I caught Lila face palming amongst the crowd.

Eventually, Rhonda let out a loud growl and threw herself back onto the ground. Her shoulder rammed into my chest and the mat slammed hard against my back. I lay there rigid and unable to breathe and wrapped around my arms around my stomach as Rhonda rolled off me.

She unclipped then chucked away her helmet. It thunked against the ground, and her hair was left a disgruntled mess, some strands glued to her face with her sweat. The lipstick was slightly smudged around her mouth, and honestly it all would've made me laugh had I not been in so much pain.

I did manage to stick my tongue out at her though.

Her face hardened and she scrambled onto her feet. She reached through the ropes, snatching Gerald's water bottle from his hands—

"Hey!"

—and unscrewed the lid. I realised her intention with a short gasp and rolled over onto my knees. My arms wrapped around my abdomen as if to ease the breathlessness. Rhonda slashed the bottle through the air which sent an arc of water hurtling for me. I gasped and rolled to the side, watching the glistening drops shoot past my face, and the water hit the crowd behind me.

They all cried out, but she didn't look away from me. I could practically see the smoke rising from between her teeth and she fired again. I attempted to dodge again but wasn't quick enough this time.

"Shit!"

The water hit me like a whip, smacking against my face and soaking through my shirt. It lashed against my eyes and I threw out my hands to catch myself before I hit the ground. There were murmurs coming from all around me, quiet and layered, but it slowly sunk away. The fatigue was wearing heavily on me and I was left panting, watching the water drip from my skin and splash against the floor.

My heart was hammering, and a fire churned beneath my skin. I was still winded, and curled my hand against my stomach, soaking in as much air as I could. The water was cold and slid down my clothes, and that made my blood burn brighter.

I didn't know what everyone saw, but when I looked back up, they gasped at the look on my face.

Rhonda's mouth slightly parted and she actually staggered backwards, the bottle crinkling in her hands. I clenched my teeth, reaching up and unbuckling my helmet and throwing it away. Ainsley shrieked and yelled something about how much those cost, but I ignored her and dashed forward.

Rhonda shrieked, stumbling against the ropes, and seemingly remembered that the bottle wasn't yet empty. Her eyes flashed and she hurled another dose of water that flew in a dazzling crescent shape. It splattered everywhere, spraying across my chest and face, but I continued until I was in front of her.

I attempted to snatch the bottle, but she was taller so when she stepped back, she dangled it over me like mistletoe. The cold water collapsed over me and I shrieked, launching myself at her. I wrapped myself around her like a monkey, tightening my arms over her shoulders and hooking my ankles around her waist. I reached up to yank the bottle back and she shrieked, trying to shake me off which made the water fly everywhere.

Large beads soared into the air like a sprinkler system, hitting both me and Rhonda herself. Everyone shrieked and ducked to avoid the wet hits. Rhonda bared her teeth with a hiss, dark eyes finding mine, and she flung herself backwards—

Thump!

—slamming us both onto the ground.

. . . Fuck.

I wasn't wearing my helmet so the force that smashed against my head was like a resounding thunder. The back of Rhonda's head thumped against my chest and a bolt of pain shot through my bones. It plagued my body like a metal, crushing the air from my lungs, and I couldn't bring myself to move.

Rhonda rolled over and I shut my eyes with defeat, expecting her to sit up and hit me. But there was a soft thud and when I opened my eyes again, it was to her hand slamming against the ground defeatedly and the bottle rolling from her fingers.

The pair of us were in perfect sync; our shoulders were pasted against the ground, our chests heaving, and our eyes glued to the roof. The water slipped from our skin, soaking our clothes, and we both hoarsely sucked in as much air as we could.

There were some murmurs from the crowd—asking whether we were okay, if we should go to the nurses—when eventually I addressed Rhonda.

"Done yet?"

Rhonda looked at me. "Never."

"Good."

I rolled onto my hip and slapped her.

She slapped me back.

Then I slapped her back.

And soon we were in an all-out slap fight, the claps echoing in the air, and shrieking profanities at each other. This continued for a while and as it did, Lila, Sheena, Savannah, and Gerald couldn't help speaking amongst themselves.

"This isn't much of what I expected at all," Sheena marvelled with wide, fascinated eyes. Eugene had his face hid into her shoulder, covering his eyes.

"I know, it's even better!" Gerald exclaimed. "Totally worth that bottle!"

Lila turned to him. "You're pathetic."

"Ladies!" Ainsley suddenly shouted and untangled herself from the ropes to approach us. "What did I say about hitting genitals?!"

"Arnold," Savannah rose her eyebrows and turned to her friend, who suddenly seemed extremely red. "Are you okay?"

His response wasn't immediate.

"I, uhh," he stuttered, unable to look away from Rhonda and me. At this point, Rhonda had gotten up and sat on my hips while I was pulling on her hair. His face was warm and he gulped, glancing away. "I have to go!"

And without another word, he vanished out the door.

"Get your hands off my tits, meathead!"

"Don't call me that, princess!"

"I leave you alone for two minutes—two minutes—and you end up in a wrestling match with Rhonda Lloyd hosted by Ms. Agatha Ainsley!" Lila ranted, throwing her hands up into the air as she paced back and forth. "Why?!"

I rolled my eyes. Wasn't she supposed to be taking it easy with that ankle?

"I believe you've already answered your own question—Ms. Ainsley," I tightly crossed my arms and leaned back against the fence. The chains clinked against my weight, pressing into my body, and the dampness uncomfortably squished against my skin. "Now can I have my ice pack?"

She paused, eyes darting to the ice pack she had long forgotten she'd even been holding. Her fingers were red since she'd bene holding it for so long, and because the sun was so warm, the pack was melting and splattering water against the ground.

I shook my head at her.

She'd been the one so insistent on me even getting an ice pack in the first place. You see, I'd been reluctant to go to the nurse's office, even if the welt on my face throbbed. Rhonda's hadn't gone, for whatever reason, and I didn't want if she wasn't. Lila had frowned and asked Savannah if she could instead, and the auburn–haired girl had dropped it off a few minutes ago. She'd given it to Lila instead of me, glancing in my direction with an arched eyebrow, then left for one of her student council meetings.

The sky was bright and blue that lunch, blossoming brilliant golden arcs that washed over us. They painted the cement with the fence's shadows, the chained patterns like a dark puddle. The breeze was warm and crisp, it felt nice against my skin, especially since my hair was still wet.

Thankfully, my uniform was perfectly dry, since everything had happened in our Gym clothes, but my hair and bra were still damp. It was uncomfortable, and I'd hoped sitting up here would quicken the process of it all drying.

Lila suddenly looked back up at me. Her hair billowed around her against the sun, and the chained shadows fell over her face like she was imprisoned. Her jaw set and she slowly approached me, crouching down until she was at my eye level.

She almost seemed poker faced, save for how tightly screwed her mouth was. She held up the pack questioningly, as if checking if this is what I wanted, and when I nodded, she slammed the pack into my face.

"OW!"

She deadpanned, unaffected. "Was that what you wanted?"

Wrenching the ice from my eye, I growled and swiped for her, but she moved away before I could hit her. She rose back to her feet and crossed her arms, lifting a brow, and I rolled my eyes at her. I can't believe I used to think this woman was mature.

There was still a sharp stinging in my cheek and I pressed the ice pack to the flaming area. It was unfortunate, but I hadn't come out entirely unscathed. It was mostly in my face, but there was also a throbbing in my shoulders from being slammed around so much, and my stomach still ached.

I bristled when a sudden laughter came from beside me.

I growled. "What I want is for you to stop replaying that fucking video!"

I rolled onto my knees and stabbed my finger in Gerald's direction. He was sat a few feet away from me against the fence, giggling as he replayed the video on his phone over and over again. There was an open pack of chips besides him, and his blazer was crumbled beneath his bag. He looked up at me, eyes twinkling, and his mouth lifted into a wider smirk.

"Gerald," Lila said, placing her hands on her hips and watching him with disappointment. "It would be ever so gentlemanly of you to delete that video."

Gerald actually laughed at her suggestion.

"What, you kiddin'?" he gazed down at his phone with appreciation. "Nah, sorry Lila, I love ya but a video where Pataki's getting her ass beat is worth my weight in gold."

I scoffed. "I did not get my ass beat."

"You're holding an ice pack to your eye," Lila pointed out.

"Whose side are you on?!" I snapped and when she shrugged, I turned back to Gerald, who raised his eyebrows. "And for your information, Gerald, Rhonda looks worse than me."

He smirked, something mischievous glimmering in his eyes, and he opened his mouth to say something when we all heard a scoff. Lila and Gerald froze, exchanging cautious glances, while I turned in the direction the noise had come from.

Arnold stood with his back to us, the sun spreading over him, and his polaroid camera nestled between his fingers. I couldn't see his face, but his gaze was cast onto the field below us, but he wasn't taking any photos.

I frowned and lowered my ice pack. "Was there something you wanted to say, football head?"

His shoulders tensed and he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes flickered to mine and for a moment, his face slightly softened. There was another warm breeze, it lifted his hair from his eyes for a moment, and the light curled around his jaw. But then his gaze zeroed in on the welt beneath my eye and he scoffed, turning away.

The anger sizzled like lightning and I clenched the pack between my hands. Lila noticed this and looked at Gerald, clearing her throat so he'd turn back to her. He frowned slightly, confused, and she nodded in Arnold's direction, raising her eyebrows.

His mouth dropped with a silent, 'Oh', and he nodded, turning back to his friend. "Something eatin' at you, dude?"

But that apparently wasn't what Lila wanted. She pressed her palm into her face and Gerald gave her a confused, "What?"

"Nope," Arnold answered and crossed his arms, letting the camera hang from the strap around his neck. "Nothing."

"Oh, yeah?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, my no—"

"Let's not start this again," Gerald sighed, putting his hands up as if settling a bar fight, and threw me a disapproving glance.

I scoffed but caught the pointed look Lila was making and let out a low breath. Right, right—I was better than this yada yada yada. I leaned back against the fence, propping my wrist on my knee, and pressed the pack back into my face. The area was still enflamed but having the iciness against it was soothing.

"Fine," I huffed and shut my eyes. "Whatever."

It really didn't even bother me anyway. That Arnold had said what he had said yesterday and still was managing to be angry at me. It was fine—fine—and I was totally okay with whatever this is. It didn't even bother me that he hadn't apologised, I was fine. And Lila was totally right, none of this was worth my time. Granted, she still didn't know what this was about but how off the mark could she be—

"So, um," Gerald cleared his throat, shoving his phone into his pocket, and awkwardly glanced around. "The, uhh, cinemas—they're re–showing the Aveng—"

"I can't believe you actually fought her!" Arnold suddenly burst and whirled around to glare at me. Only the sun was in a perfect position behind him to beat behind his head, so it looked like a shinning halo.

I arched a brow and when Gerald saw the look on my face, he sighed and leaned back against the fence. "This oughta be good."

"What can't you believe about it, football head?" I asked, ignoring Gerald. "She was getting on my case so I fought her."

"You both could've been expelled!"

"Ms. Ainsley said there'd be no repercussions."

Arnold actually laughed at this and threw his hands up. "Ms. Ainsley's insane!"

Gerald and Lila both glanced at each other with a shrug and nodded in agreement.

"True," Gerald said.

"Yes," Lila nodded. "That's very true."

"Oh, who cares?!" I exploded, shoving the ice pack aside, and pushed myself up from the fence. Arnold watched, his eyes sharp and burning, as I got to my feet and folded his arms. "It's not like you had to fight her!"

"Do you seriously not see how you're in the wrong here? How you both were?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot I was talking to Arnold the fucking wise! How dare any of us mere mortals step out of fucking line!"

Gerald was giggling into his hand at that until Arnold sharply glanced at him. The boy stopped with a forced cough, his eyes going wide for a second, before he reached for a handful of his chips and shoved them into his mouth.

"These are nice chips, dude," he murmured, and Lila grimaced when tiny crumbs caught in the hairs above his lip.

Arnold rolled his eyes and turned back to me, looking slightly strange, before he let out a breath and marched forward. His strides were long and determined, fists swinging besides his hips, and his eyes stayed on mine. My blood was still boiling, but the almost assertive look on his face made my heart do a funny little dance.

And that pissed me off.

He stopped when he was in front of me and the only thing separating us was the camera hanging from his neck. It was slightly pressed against my chest and my heart was stuttering, but I didn't want to back down, so I held onto his gaze and remained still.

Lila gasped and I could hear her slapping Gerald, who hissed at her to stop, but I didn't let myself get distracted. Arnold's eyes were firm, radiating something fiery, and he never looked away. A warmth spread in my chest and my lips slightly parted. I couldn't understand why I felt this way, I was still so mad at him, yet the tension was making me want to grab him by the collar and kiss him.

He must've seen something in my expression because his eyes slightly softened and his hands fell to his sides. The warm light moved around him as he shifted his weight, the shadows moving across his face. He had since washed up from Gym, so his hair was no longer matted with sweat. His bangs were swept to the side, a style barely holding against the wind, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows. It was the way I liked it, and it was making it very hard to stay angry at him.

His eyes fluttered as he looked down at me and his mouth softly opened when he seemingly noticed the welt again. He paused, an unknown look rolling in his eyes, until he frowned and let out a hiss of air.

"God," he murmured and stepped back, crossing his arms beneath his camera. "I can't believe you, after all this time you're still so—so—"

"What?"

"So thick!" he shouted, nose crinkled. "You're just . . . we've all grown up since we were kids, but you've stayed the same. You're still so quick to anger and willing to fight everyone! Like a—like a—"

"Like a what?!"

"Like a delinquent!"

His words slammed into me like knives, and all I could do was stare. He was panting, his brows drawn together, but he seemed to realise the harshness of his words. The frown melted from his face and he stepped forward, the sun slipped away from behind him, but I staggered backwards.

She's always been a delinquent.

The words rattled in my head like explosions popping off between my ears. Suddenly, it wasn't my welt throbbing anymore, and I wrapped my hands around me to ease the pain. There was an emptiness in my chest that painfully wavered, and I gulped. It had been said days ago—almost two weeks—it shouldn't have bothered me, especially considering what Arnold had said yesterday, but . . .

You're a bully.

It still did.

My mind fell blank, and the silence pressed in on me. It blared like an alarm, swallowing me whole until everything became slow and warbled. I felt the chill running down my spine and my head made an involuntary shake. My heart was silent, still and cold in my chest, and the salvia was thick in my throat.

There were footsteps approaching—Lila—and a hand sneaking for my arm—Arnold's.

I seized up, goosebumps rising, and my mind flashed in a million different directions. Because for a moment, I wanted to take it. I wanted to forgive him and go back to the warmth that flooded my chest whenever I looked at him. Go back to the smiles that involuntarily stretched across my face at just the thought of him. Go back to the dizzying daydreams that always swept my mind at just the whisper of his name, of all the possibilities we had, if I wasn't . . .

You're a bully, Helga.

No.

I stepped back and glared at him.

"Well, this delinquent never fucking asked for your judgement, Arnold," I practically spat his name and took delight in the way he winced. "This stupid delinquent is perfectly fine all by herself. How dare you come into my life just to give me shit."

I poked him hard in his chest, speaking through my teeth.

"If I'm such a delinquent, if I'm so fucking beneath you, then just do what everyone else has—" the fire was burning in my chest as he looked at me helplessly. "—stay the hell away from me."

He froze, eyes swirling like an electric storm, and he opened his mouth, but I turned before he could say anything. Lila was hobbling to my side, reaching out with a comforting hand, but I passed her without so much of a glance.

They all stared at me with various mixtures of emotions as I swung on my bag, scooped up my ice pack, and turned for the door.

Lila tried calling for me. "Hel—"

But I had already left.

Something was knocking against my window.

My eyes flew open.

I was met with a blanket of darkness and had to blink a couple of times to adjust. The house lights were out and the room silent, save for the soft snores beside me. There was still a faint buzzing in my brain, the remaining sleep hanging over me, and I rubbed my eyes. The knocking came back, this time more frantic, and I looked to the window.

It was Lila—well, Lark—hanging from the outside with a Cheshire cat smile. She clung to the top of my window, her legs pulled to her chest, and the tips of her toes planted along the sill. The moonlight came over her from the right, tangling in her teeth and lighting up her masked face.

It was a weird sight to wake up to, yet she was smiling widely, waving frantically like we were catching up on the street.

Confused and more than a little tired, I threw off my covers and stumbled over to her. The smile widened and she dropped her hand, silently watching as I shoved the glass plane up.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed, clamping my hands on the sill. She was hanging from the window—almost three storeys high—yet there wasn't an ounce of panic or urgency on her face.

"Eh, I was swinging by and thought 'hey, Helga must be up, wouldn't it be rude if I didn't pop in to say hi'?" she said with as much as a shrug possible, then glanced at my clothes. "Cute pyjamas, by the way."

I rolled my arms, crossing my arms to cover myself from the window. Nothing to do with the fact that I was wearing a pink tank top and a matching set of striped shorts.

"No, I meant transformed," I told her and rubbed my forehead. "Someone might see you and—ohmygod, Nel's gonna be pissed."

The thought slammed into me with panic and I whirled around in the cat's direction. But she was still asleep, curled up tight on the pillow beside my own. Her back was to the window and her eyes hadn't so much as twitched as at Lark's arrival.

"Exactly why I waited until Nel would be asleep," I could hear Lark grinning.

"Stupid cat," I muttered, unwilling to accept how deeply our mentor seemed to sleep. Shouldn't cats be more alert to sounds?

I turned back around to the superhero, who, as expected, was smiling mischievously. She waggled both her eyebrows, darting her eyes from the inside of my room to my face.

I sighed, stepping aside. "Alright, come in before someone sees."

Her face brightened and she swung her legs through the open window. But she didn't drop to my floor and instead chose to sit on my still. Lark ran her gloved fingers through her hair, propping her elbow on to her knee, and glanced at me.

"Sooooo why are you here?" I asked.

"I'm a superhero!" she suddenly burst, spreading out her arms, and only smiled when I hushed at her to be quiet. "Why wouldn't I?"

"But . . . you're not superheroing."

"So?" she shrugged, then glanced to her right, "What's the point in being one if I can't enjoy some of the perks? I've always wanted to be a superhero—now I am one. And I'll be damned if I can't swing around like spiderman."

I stared at her, waiting for her to announce that she was joking, but when she looked back at me, it was with the most seriousness she'd displayed all night.

"Soooooo," I blinked, then clasped my hands together. "There's no danger, but you've decided to swing around for the hell of it?"

She feigned a somewhat contemplative look, her fingers toying with the rod at her side, before she shrugged and clucked her tongue.

"Yeah, pretty much."

I arched a brow.

"Good choice, waiting until Nel was asleep to do something so fucking stupid," I snapped, and she sighed with a roll of her eyes. "I mean—criminy, Lila, what if someone saw you? If they see you with me, there's gonna be questions. Then it's not gonna be hard to draw conclusions that I'm actually—"

"Helga, breathe," she got to her feet and approached me with raised hands. But it wasn't like when people used to approach me like I was a wild animal, but almost soft and nurturing.

I shut my mouth and obeyed, sucking in slow breaths between my teeth. My chest felt slightly tight, like there was a band wrapped between it, and the air in my throat burned. Lark had laid her hands on my shoulders holding my gaze firmly, and let the silence hang over us until she could feel me relaxing.

The breath that flew between us felt like smoke, like it was carrying the weight of something more. It was spinning, spiralling and fanning the flames burning beneath my skin. I looked around, to distract myself, and slowly realised how much taller Lark was then me. My forehead barely was in line with her chin, and her eyes were pointed downwards at mine. It was so weird. I didn't know how to feel about it, I was so used to being taller than Lila.

But with her like this, literally taller and physically older than me, I truly began to feel the dynamic between us. I knew that I was older than her, but sometimes it felt like Lila was an older sister. She could be annoying, but she always seemed to know the answer to everything, kind of like now.

The new air that filled me was lighter, not cold or damp, almost spring like. I wondered whether it was because Lila had calmed me down, or if it was because that was how I pictured her—warm, and a swirl of flowers.

She smiled, letting me go, and stepped back. "Now look out that window. What do you see?"

I frowned, unsure of the games she was playing, but she just stepped aside and gestured at the window. I sighed, rolling my eyes, but decided to play along with whatever was cooking up in her brain.

Stepping closer, I peered out the open window, glancing around at the tall structures and dark sky before turning back with a raised brow.

"The sky?"

"Exactly—the sky, the stars, the moon," she spread out her arms, her eyes like a forest fire. "God Helga, you're a poet—look at how beautiful it is, just from here. It's even better out there."

There was a pause, as if she realised something, and her grin became mysterious.

"Out there . . . it's like I'm flying. But then I'm . . . not. Like, there's a second that I'm flying and then I'm falling . . . and I just stop," she glanced back at me. "I'm in control. I'm telling gravity to go get fucked."

"How eloquent," was my response.

"You can't knock it until you've tried it."

"Oh, I've tried it."

"Without the Mutants?" she suddenly demanded, voice thick with challenge, and crossed her arms. "Without the pressure? The urgency?"

My mouth moved to form an answer, but I didn't know what to say. Technically, I hadn't actually done that. When I'd come up with those wires, I'd pretty much been thrown straight back into the fighting. I still hadn't transformed into Blue Jay unless the circumstances called for it.

I'd never become Blue Jay just . . . for myself.

"C'mon, Helga," Lark said softly and stepped closer, gently laying a hand on my shoulder. "Let's go."

I looked up at her and began recognising small traces of Lila in this masked face. Her lips were quirked into that smile—not the ones she hid behind, but the soft one that crept up her face with rosiness. Her eyes weren't the same colour—blue had turned to green—but they still twinkled with deepest hues of a gleaming forest.

I didn't want to go out. I wanted to curl in a ball underneath my covers and forget everything. I had tried wiping mind free of what had happened today, buried myself in my hoodie and hidden beneath the thick layers of rock music. But my heart was still reeling, battered and bruising. I wanted to deny it, but my idea of escaping was losing the battle, and Lila hadn't yet led me astray.

So, I nodded.

It all happened so quickly—one minute I was in my pyjamas, then the next I was transformed, and we were both swinging through the city. The air was so cold, whispering against my skin, and I could feel the blood rushing to warm my body. But there was still something that felt good about all of this. The moment I had gotten home, I had locked myself in my room and buried myself underneath my covers. The fresh air on my face had been missed, and I couldn't help smiling.

Lark was a natural when it came to this. Every once in a while, she would do a cool new trick that would make me laugh.

The moon was high in the sky, the night falling over us like a blanket, but the city still flashed with its screaming lights. They were pulsing electrical beats, blending, curving and shooting past us as we soared. They were a mixture of colours—reds, greens, pinks and yellows—and twisted around us like fireflies. They were so beautiful, I couldn't help smiling, truly feeling like I was a part of something else.

"Hey, look! It's them!"

I glanced down to a small group of young adults staring up at us from a park bench. They were dressed in large, dark clothing, bathed in streetlights, and shocked smiles lit up their faces when they saw us. They jumped up from the bench, joining the short–haired girl who had shouted, and waved frantically at Lark and me.

I was about to wave back when an idea hit me.

My lips tugged into a grin and I flipped down on a nearby roof. The wind threaded in my hair, zapping the heat from my face, and I could sense Lark's confusion as she swung down besides me.

I spread out my fingers, pushing that electrical heat from my skin, and when I turned back to Lark, her eyes lit up with an understanding. She shrugged with a grin, which I took as approval, and I hurled the blue light from my palm.

It dashed into the night like a glowing bullet before cracking against the swarming clouds. It exploded into a barrier with stray sparks that gave it a flowery appearance. It blazed against the darkness, blazing trails burning the clouds, and its radiance washed over us.

I could hear the group's shocked exclamations and glanced back to their astonished faces. Something about it made my heart swell and I chuckled, sending Lark a look, and we quickly swung back into the night.

I didn't know how long we were like this—racing through the night between the roaring winds—but the more complex Lark's flips became, the more the weight in my chest lightened.

Eventually, we came to a stop at the city bridge.

Our feet hit the tops of the structures and the wires snapped into our wrists. I fell down to my knees, pressing my hands against the platforms, and gulped down as much air as I could. My heart was racing, my limbs still vibrating, and I needed a moment to let everything settle. In.

But Lark was no longer beside me. Instead of allowing herself time to rest, she continued walking until she was on the edge of the structure. She stopped with a fond smile on her face and wrapped her gloved hands around her elbows. The pair of us were stood on one of the structures that rose nearly two hundred feet above the water, but her eyes were soft as she watched the sky.

I rolled back to my feet and followed her gaze.

The moon was full and hazy, like a milky crystal hanging against the night, and the surrounding stars were flashing. They were like snowflakes or sugar spilled across black marble, looming like a ghostly painting.

The clarity was reflected in the dark river below, overflowing with yesterday's rain. The moonlight graced the rippling water, swirling and twisting against the surface, and the stars rocked back and forth with the sluggish movement.

"Wow," I breathed, clutching my chest. "It really is beautiful up here."

The buildings that skirted the edges were like dark shadows reaching for the starry sky and their lights washed over the water. It wasn't just white sparkles from the stars, but yellow, pink and red city flashes that bathed in the river. The stars in the sky stretched so wide but were swallowed by the line between the sky and the water.

"Isn't it?" Lark turned back with a grin, and the moonlight twirled with the ends of her hair. She shrugged and sat down, swinging her legs over the edge so they were dangling with the wispy air, and patted the spot beside her.

I smiled, the wind lifting my braid, and sat down.

I looked out to the water again, watching the swirling blizzard constellations, and couldn't hold back the grin. There was a thick swarm of little red flashes coming from the herd of traffic on the bridge. The sounds were faint, coming from below us like ants, but so far, no one had seen the two girls standing on the structures above.

"Man," Lark leaned back onto her palms, rolling her head in my direction with a crooked smile. "Arnold would kill for a photo like this."

"Okay—bye Lila," I was on my feet and ready to leave.

"Wait, no—stop, stay!" she exclaimed and wrapped her arms around my legs before I could move. I yelped, flinging out my arms for balance, and glared down at her.

"C'mon, Helga, seriously, what's with you two? You've been at each other's throats and that fight today got pretty heated."

She's always been a delinquent.

I was more than tempted to tell Lila to fuck off, but her earlier words were echoing in my head. They rippled like phantoms, flickering through me with hot, pale voice. Lila, never one to just sit still, had spoken to me as I had wrapped up my ankle yesterday, about my habits. She'd explained that my tendencies to throw up walls around myself weren't helpful to anyone, least of all myself. I'd brushed off those warnings, but as I'd laid in bed that night, they'd come back to haunt me.

Is that any way to speak to your partner in crime?

I sighed.

Lark grinned, knowing she had won, and let go. She moved aside and I sat back down beside her. I leaned back, propping my leg up, and placed my elbows onto my knee. Lark was patient, watching intently, but I couldn't look back.

I watched the stars, cackling with static, and sighed again. My heart was racing, feeling strangely stuffed, and the words clung to my throat.

"I–It's just complicated," I finally admitted, and breathed again, every part of me feeling stiff. "You remember when you were pissed at me and I confronted you . . . in the classroom?"

I didn't like bringing that up, those images were flashing silver in my mind, and I turned back to the redhead. But I was surprised when there wasn't an ounce of awkwardness that crossed her face.

"Yes?"

You can do this, Helga.

Clearing my throat, I looked back at the water, and waited until the rigidness slightly softened. "Well, remember when Arnold got all protective?"

"Slightly," Lark shrugged. "I was honestly so angry that I hadn't been paying much attention."

My chest was tight like something was crawling down my throat and filling up my senses. My heart was thumping like a bass, pumping until the rest of me was vibrating. I lowered my gaze, looking down at my curling hands, and forced out another breath.

"Well, um, he—uhh," I cursed the flush of sheepishness and rubbed the back of my neck. "He called me a bully."

There was a pause and she slowly spun her head around in my direction, a confused glint in her eyes. She waited for a bit, sucking in her lips, and seemed to think I was about to go on. But when I turned back to her, her eyes widened and she realised that that was the end of my story.

"Oh, is that all?"

I frowned. Well, when she said it like that, it made everything feel smaller than it was.

"No, that's not all," I said, feeling defensive. "He said I haven't changed since we were kids."

She snorted and looked back to the glistening water. "Well, obviously that isn't true."

"Isn't it?" I bit out, lowering my gaze to my lap, and wrapping my palms around my arms. "I was pretty mean to you."

It still hurt to think about.

Not just what Arnold had said, but the week in general. It had moved so slowly, swept up in a blast of guilt that swallowed me whole. Lila had forgiven me for what I said, even had apologised for how she herself had acted, but it didn't fill the hole in my chest. It was easy for her to move on because there was nothing she had done wrong, those memories didn't linger with her at night.

It hurt because Arnold had been right to call me out—he'd been right about me. I tried hiding it with my anger, but I couldn't keep denying it. I'd acted awful, even worse if he had known the full story, and to hear those words coming from his mouth had stung more than I could admit.

"Yes, but you're not anymore," Lark emphasised, and looked at me with piercing eyes. "Look, Helga, yes, you were mean and a bully back then, but we're not kids anymore. You had obviously changed, even before you'd become Blue Jay. Yes, you were withdrawn, but you weren't treating us like bugs anymore."

I rolled my eyes. "Y'know, amazingly, this isn't making me feel better."

She paused then grimaced when she realised how her words could be taken.

"Sorry," she said then turned to fully face me. "Here—what I mean to say is that yes, sometimes you can be mean, but I can see that it's something you're actively working on. Yes, what you said hurt me, but you apologised. You think you as a child would have done that?"

"Not without Arnold," I murmured.

"Exactly," she snapped her fingers, and a proud smile spread across her lips. "You did all this on your own."

"Yeah, but now he thinks I'm an asshole."

"He was just getting in his feelings," Lark sighed, and turned back to the lake. "Trust me, Arnold's like Gerald—he can get super overprotective sometimes. Although he usually calms down quicker than Gerald. Honestly, I think he would've been fine today if you hadn't—"

"Set him off?"

She glanced back at me apologetically, nodding. "Don't worry, he'll be fine next time you see him."

Her words should've brought me comfort, but instead they felt numb. I looked away to the rippling water and felt the breeze blister around me.

"Will he?"

I could feel her pausing, clearly not expecting that, but she replied anyway. "Yes, he—you just have to show him you've changed," she explained. "Like you did with me. You aren't the same girl you were before, Helga—you're no longer a bully."

The burden in my chest was slightly lightening, but there was something about her words that made me pause. You have to show him you've changed—it was simple enough, but those instructions didn't make me happy, instead they actually had the opposite effect.

They filled me with something strong, something that pushed through my limbs and curled in my stomach. I'd been feeling it for a while, but now I was able to identify what it was.

Resentment.

It was like it had bitten into me, burying sharp teeth deep into my neck, and now injected me with its poison. It surged over me, flooding my body with a coldness that curdled in my stomach, swarming my mind until my head felt swollen.

I couldn't figure out why though, why all this bitterness was affecting me. It had all made sense—as far as Arnold was concerned, Helga hadn't changed much since we were kids. He didn't know about the second life I lived, he didn't know about the many hours I'd spent training myself, he didn't know about the perilous voices calling out to me at night, and he certainly didn't know about my encounters with Serec.

Arnold didn't know.

That should've comforted me, but it didn't It felt like I had just gotten off a rollercoaster, everything was spinning, the stars turning into dancing, dazzling visions.

"Why do I have to show him?"

The words were quiet, barely above a whisper. I hadn't even been aware I'd said them until Lark turned back to me.

"What?"

The silence hung as I thought about the words flashing in my mind. Arnold didn't know—he didn't know anything about me. He thought he did, thought that he could predict my moods or habits, but the reality was that he couldn't. Because he didn't know a single thing about me.

I suddenly was thrown into a new world, my memories wrapping around me like a torn blanket. For years, I had been in love with him but knowing that he didn't feel the same, I had given up on those feelings. I had resolved that in order for myself to get over him, I needed to put distance between us, and let myself drift from him. It hadn't just been for him; I had stopped talking to everyone cause I knew they had little tolerance for me to begin with.

You're your own problem, Helga.

And at first, Arnold had tried pushing himself back into my life. He had approached me at lunch with a soft smile, asked me how my weekends were, but soon, he had forgotten me.

The realisation made me stand to my feet.

He had forgotten me. It had barely been a week when he had allowed himself to get swept up in the world of smiles and warmth, completely leaving me behind. I had built those walls up around myself, watched everything happening from the shadows, and gone completely unnoticed for years. I'd convinced myself that it hadn't hurt, it's not like we'd been friends to begin with, and buried everything deep down.

But there was no denying that it had hurt. Arnold was a caring person, kindness practically swelled from his pores, but the fact that he had given up on me without even asking if there was something wrong . . .

You're a bully, Helga.

And suddenly, I felt it all.

I had hidden my feelings, buried everything deep down in the ground with the roots. But now they were rising, bubbling to the surface, and ready to bloom into bright red flowers.

"Why the hell do I have to prove I've changed to him?" I muttered to myself, looking down. "Why do I need to change for him at all?"

You're a bully, Helga.

Of course, he felt like that. That's all he had ever seen me as. Someone who terrorised him. He didn't know anything about the demons that plagued the depths of my mind. The voices that begged me to open my mouth and spit bullets or forced me to constantly walk on a knife's edge.

He didn't know.

I could hear Lark slightly shifting and turned to see her pointing at herself.

"Um," she frowned slightly. "Did I say that?"

"I mean, yeah, I may have hurt you," I continued, the bitterness churning inside me. "But that was between us. You're a big girl and can handle it. And—And that fight today—it was between Rhonda and me. What gives him the right to judge me so much?"

"But Helga—"

"And he has the gall to think he's the fucking bee's knees?" My fingers scrapped back into my hair so harshly that strands were ripped from my braid. The emotions were sour, sizzling my tongue, and when I turned back to Lark, her jaw dropped at the look on my face. "No, he's no better than I am! He threw my past into my face as if that should have to define me anymore. I'm fucking Blue Jay!"

She looked like she wanted to say something about that when a thought crossed her mind. Her eyes shifted to the side and a somewhat agreeable expression replaced her frown.

"True," she nodded.

"And I'm not the same bully I was seven years ago!"

"Yeah!" Lark said, more enthusiastic this time, and stood to her feet with a proud grin. "That's the spirit, Helga! . . . But, um, about Arnold—"

"God, I'm so mad right now," I growled, then punched the air which sent two forcefields exploding in the air into a flurry of dazzling sparks. Lark jumped, looking at the sparkling magic that hit the clouds. I huffed, still feeling the anger rising in me. "Shit—I could just fucking hit something right now."

Slowly, Lila turned back to me and opened her mouth when a scream cut through the air. She jumped and jammed her fists into her ears, but I stilled and looked over my shoulder towards the glittering city.

I clucked my tongue.

"Just on time."

Soooooo Arnold and Helga stilll ain't completely straight, and actually more things have been revealed about Helga's feelings regarding him. I dunno, it might be me analysing too much, but I think how she feels towards him is totally interesting. I think she's such a complex person with such a rich background, that her feelings towards him aren't just summed up as romantic, they're actually fuelled with a lot of things.

Oh, and fun fact: that fight scene between Rhonda and Helga was totally inspired by Michael and Dwight's fight on The Office XD I'd just started watching it when I wrote the outline and was like, oooh, that's actually really funny, I'mma do it.

Annnnywhoozies, lets get on with the reviews!

Miladyswords: Hi, girl! It's been a while! I hear you about Lila, hopefully she is making herself up in this chapter! I think what's important to keep in mind is that, to an extent, Helga isn't the most reliable narrator. She's very judgemental and likes to view Lila as faultless, when, in reality as you pointed out, she's very much filled with flaws. She's somewhat careless (she doesn't realise the full extent of her superhero duties cause she hasn't gone what Helga has been through), she's bold when it comes to people's boundaries (definitely is something she has to learn to respect), and she's kinda used to geting her way. But I totally hear you on being put off with how she can push Helga's buttons, and hopefully can prove herself better then that considering, yeah, she's actually very important to Helga XD Mmmmmm, Patty's actually becoming a popular guess with reviewers, but don't worry, Phoebe IS coming back (I think it should be next chapter actually), so don't worry, and our girl is very smart, she's definitely gonna be picking up on Helga's behaviour! Thanks for the review girl, hope to hear from you again! Also, sorry, I was attaching the last two chapters into one and it must've come up as a notification XD sorry about that!

Guest: Hi there! I think that's definitely something you have to keep an eye on! We feel close to Helga because we've explicitly spent so much time in her head, hearing exactly what she's been thinking for weeks now. Lila definitely has the luxury of not having to be the only Guardian (hence why she's, on a technical level, not taking it seriously), but I don't think that means she's not a good hero at all! Lila will, at some point, learn the hardships of being a superhero, but not quite yet, she's mostly keeping an eye on Helga and trying to help her friend! Thanks for the review though, I'm always interested in hearing people's thoughts!

Kryten: Oops, sorry for misgendering you! And yes, 100%, Helga deserved to be called out! Helga was definitely in the wrong, and she's better at feeling sorry for herself then taking actual action. Lila is very, very good for her because (as you pointed out), she's very much likely to call her out so she actually can better herself. Blue Jay may be perfect, but Helga very much is flawed, and needs a hand to help her. And honestly, I hadn't even realised but you're right, Phoebe's great, but she definitely would be more of an enabler. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter, obviously Arnold is still a situation, but Lila is definitely someone that Helga needs in her life XD

DhamarFlowers1.5: ¡Dios mío, hola niña! Wow, no me di cuenta de lo mucho que Helga podría significar, muchas gracias. No quiero decir que esto sea desencadenante, solo espero explorar la identidad de Helga y tal vez incluso ayudar a aquellos en posiciones similares. La vida puede ser realmente aterradora, pero es muy importante que sigamos luchando. ¡Especialmente este año! Creo que lo que pasa con Lila es que, aunque Helga la ve como perfecta (y recuerda que es nuestra narradora, por lo tanto, nuestros ojos), en realidad está lejos de serlo. Se apresura a saltar a la acción, se deja llevar por sus emociones, realmente no respeta los límites (aunque está aprendiendo, gracias a Helga), y aunque sabe que su papel como Lark es importante, no es 100% consciente de la gravedad. de eso. No necesariamente la hace mala, solo defectuosa, y honestamente, probablemente habría reaccionado de manera muy similar a ella si me hubieran ofrecido la oportunidad de convertirme en un superhéroe. Tienes toda la razón. Arnold, aunque no está completamente en lo correcto, es naturalmente un amigo protector, y desde su perspectiva, ha visto a Helga (con quien recientemente comenzó a hablar nuevamente) que se lleva a uno de sus mejores amigos. No creo que tenga razón, pero es el tipo de respuesta que espero de él, emocional y no tan bien pensado. Y sí, si Lila hubiera estado en la misma posición que Helga, entonces Arnold definitivamente la habría llamado. ¡Oh, Dios mío, no llores! Puedo prometer que, aunque es algo emocional, no será tan intenso porque Helga ahora tiene a alguien como Lila que simplemente ya no le permitirá volver a ese lugar XD Y no te preocupes, Arnold obtendrá más de una característica, y su pelea debería terminar pronto, solo quiero explorar más de los sentimientos que Helga podría estar escondiéndose de sí misma con respecto a él. Pero he escrito más bosquejos y definitivamente desarrollarán algún tipo de camaradería que ni los otros Guardianes conocerán.

No, totalmente australiano XD ¡Gracias por responder, sin duda, es una conversación que, como sociedad mundial, debemos abordar!

En serio, cuídate en serio, querido! 3

acosta perez jose ramiro: Thank you! 100% you're right, Helga really needs someone like Lila in her life (and Nel) to help her in her everyday life so she doesn't keep thinking she's expendable. And yes, to an extent, Lila doesn't properly understand the horrors of her new superheroism cause she hasn't had to fight on her own (and to be honest, her powers are more reliable then Helga's), but what we have to remember is Helga is way more emotional then she gives herself credit. We read from her perspective, but it's not necessarily always accurate, and while she thinks Lila's only in it for the glory, that may not be totally accurate. Lila definitely has a lot to learn about her new life, but Helga's in a very similiar position. They both have a lot to learn from each other, and neither is necessarily wrong or right, just fired up on emotions. Thanks for the review though! Always looking forwarrd to hear your thoughts!

lovemesomemagic: thankyouthankyouthankyou! Your review really, really helped me kick my ass into gear this chapter! Helga and Lila have such an interesting relationship in that they both have so much to learn from each other. Helga may be good at being Blue Jay, but she has to learn how to cope with her everyday life, and Lila's the perfect person for her to learn that from. I totally agree, I wish the show had developed a relationship between them because I genuinely believe, regardless of their boy situations, that they would've been very close friends, even if Helga wouldn't want to admit it XD thanks for your review again, dear!

Thanks for reading everyone, and I promise to come back and edit everything later! The next chapter is split into a two parter (hence why I combined the last two), so expect a little more time for me to work everything out! Please leave reviews!

Oh, and also Question of the Day: Who would you match up as Helga in Sailor Scout terms? Like, who is she more likely to be out of the Sailor Scouts?