Jesse leans casually against the wall, trying to look cool, and succeeding pretty damn well. I resist the urge to just stand there and admire him; even in the crappy fluorescent light spilling from the cafeteria, he looks delectable.

"So I heard you got top in a history assignment," he says, as I come to stand beside him.

I follow his lead, leaning next to him so that our shoulders touch. Man, he's even hotter up close, with those mischievous green eyes.

"You want to talk about schoolwork?" I ask, arching an eyebrow—a habit I've picked up from a certain someone. I immediately banish the thought from my mind, and focus on the guy in front of me.

"Not particularly," he grins. "What do you want to talk about?"

Just the answer I'd been hoping for. I reach out a hand to run my fingers down his bicep, tracing the elegant curve of his muscle. "There are other things I'd much rather do than talk, but this is a little public."

There's a flirtatious smirk on his lips, and his eyes sweep my face almost greedily. "Sounds good to me, but I heard you're on house arrest."

"Oh, I can break out, if I have enough incentive." I dangle the bait, and pull on my man-eating smile to sweeten the deal.

I'm not worried that we'll be overheard in the midst of the end of lunch racket. Students begin walking towards their classes, flowing through the doors in a great tide of noise that easily obscures our conversation from any curious ears that might be trying to listen in.

Jesse moves his head a little nearer to mine, so that we're almost breathing the same air. His voice is barely above a whisper, tickling my skin as he speaks. "Lucky for you, I'm excellent at providing that. I can arrange a small…study group in my dormitory."

My smile turns into an outright grin. "Then I guess it's a good thing that I'm so invested in my schoolwork. Text me the details?"

His expression is full of promises that I can't wait to make him keep. "Cool."

"I'll see you tonight then."

We pull apart just in time, because one moment later, a very tall Russian walks outside looking for me. I'm sure he's smart enough to realise the nature of our conversation, and he gives me an admonishing look while Jesse walks off to his next class. I tell myself that I don't care what he thinks, and even almost believe it.

And I am much calmer now that I know that by this time tomorrow, it will be known around campus that I'm up to my old tricks. The news that Rose Dragomir is back to working her way through all the guys in school will replace all talk of me acing a history assignment, and those few people who are a little disappointed will just have to get over it. I have to stop myself from skipping along the corridor like a lunatic.

Elemental fire is at the end of the day, which I would normally just bunk. Of course, Dimitri would never let me, and I'm trying to toe the line to pre-emptively allay his suspicion. So I sit at my desk in the back, bored to tears by the teacher droning on and on about "the helpful ways we can use fire." I zone out approximately two minutes after the first mention of fire-breaks.

As helpful as it is to know that I can use my powers to flambé a perfect medium-rare steak , I really don't put much stock in the rest of the "helpful" suggestions. How can we use our terribly destructive element to help people? Well, by putting other fires out, of course!

The derisive snort I let out is tame compared to the things I'd like to say, but of course, I hold myself back with an uncharacteristic display of self-control. I just have to think of my plans for tonight and my conviction to hold my tongue solidifies once more.

"So," says the overly cheerful Ms. Daniels, "can anyone think of any other examples of how we can use our powers to help others?"

"How about killing Strigoi?"

For a moment, I almost believe that I've said my thoughts out loud. But the voice that delivered such an inflammatory statement is distinctly male, and, even more surprisingly, comes from the weird kid that never says a word; Christian Ozera.

"I'm sorry?"

"Striogoi. They're flammable."

I have to physically restrain myself from standing up and giving him a round of applause.

If this was a movie, I would be able to see a vein standing out on my teacher's forehead. "Yes, Mr. Ozera, I do understand that," she replies, her bright tone now sounding somewhat strained. "But we use our magic to help our society, not for offensive purposes."

Christian barks out a derisive laugh. "And killing Strigoi wouldn't be 'helpful to society'?"

Try as I might, I cannot supress my admiration for him speaking out, nor the frustration that is building inside of me once again. Christian is absolutely right; we can help. But we are not allowed to. And that is bullshit.

The teacher takes a deep, calming breath. "I can appreciate where you're coming from, Mr Ozera, with your background, I even understand, but-"

Too far. I can see by Christian's face that he's about to get himself into some serious trouble, not that the bitch of a teacher doesn't deserve it. There's a fiery glint in his eye that could result in his expulsion, so I stand up and cut him off.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I don't believe that Christian mentioned anything about his background. He was only asking a question."

Ms. Daniels turns her drastically different expression towards me. This is not the first time I've challenged her, and, like most teachers when I start to speak, she's immediately on the offensive.

"A question that he very well knows the answer to, Miss Dragomir."

"Does he?" I raise my eyebrows. "Then why did he ask you?"

"To cause contention and derail my lesson, clearly!" Honestly, I find her anger infinitely more bearable than her cheeriness. "Something you would know all about!"

"That's not fair, I haven't even done anything yet."

"You are wildly disrespectful, Miss Dragomir, as always!"

"Well, yeah," I shrug, amping up the sass as Christian opens his mouth again, "but I disrespect everyone, so you're not special."

And so, despite my resolution to be on my best behaviour—which admittedly isn't very good-I am once again en route to the principal's office, and my guardian ghosts along next to me with that ridiculous disapproving silence.

Finally, the tension gets too much for me. It irritates me that I crave his admiration, and that I'm willing to bend my normal rules for his attention.

"Please don't." My words come out embarrassingly earnest, although I honestly don't know how I was trying to play this.

"Don't what?"

I look at the ground in front of me. "Don't do the whole disappointment thing."

He thinks about that for a moment, and surprisingly, when he speaks, there's a smile in his voice. "I think you're projecting."

"Projecting?"

"I think what you did was noble."

I stop walking, and turn to face him. "Wait, what?"

Dimitri humours me, halting his own progress down the corridor in turn. "Anyone could see that he was about to do something stupid. It's admirable that you took the bullet."

A feeling rises in my stomach, something remarkably akin to panic. I try my best to suppress it, but that seems to do about as much as if I'd poked it sharply with a stick.

Behind my back, I curl my fingers into the middle of my palms. Keeping a slight pressure against the smooth skin, I summon my concentration and my fire. Focussing on heat rather than actual flames, I send it into my fingertips until they pulse with warmth. I push a little harder, and the sharp pain on my palms gives me something else to focus on, and halves the effort it takes for me to wipe my face blank.

I shrug. "Let's go."

He gives me a look, but doesn't comment, and we proceed to my mother's office.

Dimitri's knock produces the response of, "Come in!"

We enter, greeted by my mother's 'why am I not surprised' face as she sits behind her desk. Of course, I think it's highly unfair, considering I've actually been well behaved this past week, and it's as though her bitchiness draws my own out. I swagger over to the chair before her, and plop down into it without being asked, deliberately rounding my spine into an uncultured and unaffected slouch.

I can sense Dimitri's disapproval behind me, and my mother sighs.

"I was wondering how long you could keep up the act," my mother begins. "I'm not surprised to find your dedication to the part so lacking."

Aah, so she had noticed. But of course, being my mother, there's no praise. I've taught her to lower her expectations of me over the years, that way she won't be disappointed. But somehow I still manage.

I suppose I should take it as a compliment, the fact that I have such a talent at letting people down. I deliberately press my fingers into the burns on my palms, eliciting a satisfying wave of pain that distracts me from the bitter direction of my thoughts.

After tonight, she'll really have something to be displeased about. It almost makes me smile.

My mother rifles through the papers stacked neatly on her desk, and pulls an all-too-familiar one towards her.

"Detention, this Saturday," she informs me, without prelimination. "What did you do?"

"Disrespected a teacher."

"Of course you did."

Her pen scratches against the paper, and I idly look around her office while I wait for her to finish.

"Headmistress Mazur?"

My mother and I both look up at Dimitri with surprise. He was so still, she'd probably forgotten he was even in the room, and I allow myself one wistful moment to envy her. I feel his presence constantly, like a prickling on my skin.

"Yes, Guardian Belikov?"

"I think you should know that Rose was not the only one out of line," he says, levelly.

My mother's red eyebrows raise comically high on her forehead, but I'm too stunned to notice. Dimitri is defending me? Does the man have no fear? To align himself with me against my mother… he really is a badass. A wonderfully warm sensation trickles through me, far too pleasant to attempt to quell, even though I know I should.

He's just doing his job, I remind myself half-heartedly. Honestly, if I haven't gotten it through my thick skull by now, what's the point?

"Oh?" her tone is clearly coloured with disbelief, painted in broad, bold strokes.

Dimitri continues. "Rose was defending another student, and Ms. Daniels reacted unprofessionally."

Her blue eyes cloud as she takes this in, and her gaze slides thoughtfully over me. She clearly takes offense at a guardian criticising her staff, and yet she can't just ignore him. Still fixed on my face, her eyes narrow.

"Thank you, Guardian Belikov, I'll look into it."

He nods once, then resumes his stoic guardian expression.

For the first time, I experience a twinge of guilt. Is this really how I'm going to repay him? By sneaking out?

But if I don't do something, I'm going to implode.

I can't take this pressure, I can't live up to these expectations. And I definitely can't let myself get all giddy every time Dimitri so much as looks my way. What I need is for everything to just stop, while I figure all of this out. I need to be bad. I need to forget about my Guardian; to distract myself with something pretty.

My mother hands me the detention slip, and I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts that I take it without argument. More for something to do than out of interest, I look down at my punishment: something about unpacking in the church. But it hardly matters. After tonight, I'll probably have detention every Saturday for a month.

As if on cue, when we leave her office, my phone buzzes. It's a little tricky to take it out, because I'm trying to be simultaneously blasé, so as not to arouse Dimitri's suspicion, and sneaky, so that he can't actually see Jesse's text.

Woods outside dorm 11 PM ;)

Surreptitiously, my fingers fly over my keypad as I type a reply.

See you tonight x

Well, there's no going back now. I make a point to stick to my word.

The rest of the day goes by a little slower than usual, thanks to my plans tonight. But after what seems like an age, the final bell goes and I'm free to go home. I make slow progress through the crowded corridor, Dimitri walking alongside me while I pretend to ignore him. Up ahead, I see a familiar blonde ponytail bobbing through the people.

"Hey, Liss!"

She turns at the sound of my voice, and makes her way over to us.

"Rose, you got into trouble again?" she admonishes, as soon as she's in hearing range.

"Honestly, news travels faster in this school than in season 7 of Game of Thrones," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

She continues to frown though, in that disapproving way of hers.

"Okay, yeah. I got in trouble again. But Ms. Daniels totally overreacted."

"Sure she did."

"You know, they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

Now it's Lissa's turn to roll her eyes. "Ha ha, Rose. You know, you really need to learn how to control your temper."

"Why mess with a good thing?"

"You just need some kind of outlet," she muses, ignoring my snark.

"Maybe I'll take up knitting."

"I'm serious!"

"What, you don't think I could knit?"

Finally, I get her to laugh. "No, you don't have the patience for it."

I have to admit, she has a point.

"Maybe you could start jogging?" she suggests, then bursts into a fresh wave of laughter at the sight of my face.

"Eew, exercise," I shudder, and she mimes wiping away a tear.

"Seriously though, I think that if you stick this out, you'll be much happier."

I have a very similar reaction to that of her previous suggestion. "You know your faith in me is severely misplaced, right?"

We're about to separate, as she goes back to the dorms, but she stops and gives me a look. "I disagree. Your faith in yourself is severely malnourished."

I don't know how to respond to that, so I just bid her goodbye, and proceed with Dimitri back to the house.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! If you like what you see, or if you don't and have some criticism, please let me know by leaving a review. I always love reading what you have to say. This fic is currently unBeta'd, so I apologise for any mistakes you may have found.

I need to get writing on this one again. I only have one more completed chapter in reserve, but I'm not sure how that's going to go, given the time of year. If you'd like to keep up to date with my strange posting, feel free top favourite and/or follow.

The VA universe and the characters therein are the intellectual property of Richelle Mead.