A/N- Thank you very much to Ronnie. H for being my first reviewer!

Chapter Two - That Ain't Banksy

"Jesus Christ, will you turn this shit off," Nathan complained over the top of Bring Me The Horizon's Suicide Season that I'd been playing on both the car ride to and now the ride from the community centre. "You're the who's all grungy and depressing and shit, don't be out here projecting that shit onto me and my beautiful face."

"Oh yeah, because The Prodigy really is the height of sophisticated music," I said sardonically, turning into Nathan's street. "Screaming 'smack my bitch up' is far superior to the profound lyrics 'the day you lost him, I slowly lost you too, for when he died he took a part of you.' Colour me corrected."

"I love it when you tell me I'm right," he said smugly, crossing his arms behind his head and closing his eyes.

"You know what, I'm not even gonna argue with you," I said wearily. "Today has been enough of a headfuck as it is without you giving me a headache and all." As I drove, I was desperately trying to ignore the dull, aching pain that had been running through my chest since the lightning. Oh fuck me, what if I was having a minor stroke? That was all I needed.

"Yeah man, the fuck was up with that storm?" Nathan agreed. "I know I'm electrifying and all that but getting struck by lightning was a bit to literal for my liking."

"Something ain't right about all this," I muttered, pulling up against the curb by Nathan's house. I hated saying it again, but we really should be dead. It was rare for anyone to survive getting struck directly by lightning, but somehow all seven of us had. It didn't make sense. Urgh, I couldn't cope with this. The second I stepped out of the car I reached into my backpack and grabbed a much-needed fag and my lighter, lighting up in seconds and taking a long drag. Ah, that sweet, sweet nicotine. Nathan had followed suit as he took his key out of his pocket and went to unlock his front door. The only thing was…the key didn't fit in the lock.

"Fuckin' brilliant, just what I need. The key's fucked," he griped, jiggling it a few times to see if that did anything.

"Don't worry, I've still got your emergency spare," I said, fiddling with my keychain that contained my car keys, flat key, family home key and Nathan's house spare that I had due to the numerous amount of times we'd been on nights out and he'd forgotten his key and wound up locked out. But as I went to stick it in the lock, it did the same as Nathan's had; I couldn't turn it and it barely fit into the lock as well. "Okay, what is going on?"

Nathan rapped on the window of the door. "Mum, it's me. My key won't work and neither will Blake's!" Silence, which was weird since Louise's car was parked in the drive - next to a load of what looked like bin bags filled with stuff for charity - so she was definitely home. "Are you gonna let us in?" Still nothing.

My patience was wearing thin after the day we'd had and I now knocked on the door myself. "Louise, can you hear us?"

"Blake, sweetie, please don't take this personally but this has nothing to do with you." Louise's sad voice made me jump as she suddenly spoke the other side of the door.

"Mum, what are you on about?" Nathan demanded.

"I need to give my relationship with Jeremy a chance," she replied.

Nathan rolled his eyes; he couldn't stand his mum's new boyfriend of five months. "Jeremy?! Come on." He crouched down to speak through the letterbox. "The guy's a total dildo!"

"Nathan, stop it, now," I warned him.

"You're always making fun of people!" Louise said hotly. "Nothing anyone says hurts you! Not everybody's like that!" I mean, I was, but that's only because I'd finally grown a spine since I split up with Julian and refused to let anyone hurt me like that again.

"Has Jezza been crying again?" Nathan mocked through the letterbox. "Come on, open the door."

"I've changed the locks," Louise sadly said, and my mouth dropped open in complete shock, cigarette falling from my lips to the ground. She'd what?

At that, Nathan finally shot to his feet. "What?! You can't be serious!" he exclaimed disbelievingly.

"If you stay, he'll leave!" she insisted, and that made my blood boil. Was she picking her fucking boyfriend over her own son?!

"Are you fucking kidding me right now, Louise?!" I snarled, slamming my fist on the door. "You can't do that!"

"Blake, please, just stay out of this," she said.

"Where am I gonna live?!" Nathan panicked. "Mum, open the door!"

"Your things are by the garage," she told him, sounding on the verge of tears. That explained the 'charity bags.' "I've put some money in your rucksack. I'll call you in a few days."

"Mum. Mum, don't! Come on!" Nathan begged against the frosted glass."Mum?! MUM!" He began to bash his fists on the door like he was trying to break in, but I gently took one of his arms and pulled him away.

"Leave it, Nate," I said quietly, and he turned to look at me. He looked so…vulnerable. There was no cheeky Nathan smirk, no cocky comment. Instead, there was nothing but tears in his eyes. "Come on, we'll go back to my place. We'll figure this out, it'll be alright." Slowly he nodded. I grabbed two of his bags and put them in the backseat of the Polo, and he followed up with the two bin bags.

Cue the most uncomfortable car journey I'd ever been on. It always freaked me out when Nathan got this quiet, because it was the one way to know that shit was well and truly fucked. I hadn't turned the music back on due to the situation, and funnily enough, Nathan wasn't exactly in a talkative. In the ten minute drive to D Block of Wertham Estate where my flat was located, he probably uttered about four words as opposed to the four words per second he normally spat out.

"Do you want anything to eat?" I asked him once we'd stepped through the door to my little studio flat, trying to maintain a little bit of normalcy.

"Vodka coke. At least three shots," was his gruff reply before he plonked himself down on my cream sofa, kicking his legs up and lying with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. I didn't even have the heart to reprimand him for the scuff marks his Converse left on the upholstery.

As he flicked through the channels on telly, I opened up the cabinet in the kitchen that served as the drinks cabinet and grabbed a half-full bottle of Smirnoff. Well, I say kitchen. Kitchenette was probably more apt. The entire flat was one room with a bathroom to the left of the front door. The kitchen/kitchenette was immediately to the right of the door. If you walked straight in front of you from the door then you found yourself in the living room, complete with three-person sofa, 30-inch flatscreen TV and coffee table. The telly was mounted against a halfwall that separated my double bed from the rest of the room to give me some closure while I was asleep, and along the far wall by the bed was my wardrobe. The white walls were plastered in posters of all my favourite things; comic books, Bring Me The Horizon, Nirvana, Slipknot, artsy Gothic prints, motivational quotes.

It was a very cosy flat that I was extremely grateful to my parents for helping me rent. I'd lost my full time job at a cute little coffee shop when word of my 'anti-social behaviour' and arrest got out, so my Mum and Dad were helping me keep (some) of my independence whilst I was otherwise engaged with my community service. They obviously weren't happy with my current situation, but they loved me and didn't exactly want to see me out on the street.

Unlike Nathan's mum, it would see. God, I still couldn't get over how cold someone could be to kick their only child out. It was brutal. No wonder Nathan chugged half of that vodka and Coke the second I placed it in front of him. As soon as he'd swallowed, he picked up his mobile and started scrolling.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Obviously looking for a place to stay, Sherlock," he muttered.

"Glad we've established I'm the Sherlock Holmes in this relationship," I replied at an attempt at a laugh, and somehow broke through as I managed to get a very Nathan smirk out of him.

"Yeah well, I'd rather be Doctor Watson than a prick in a deerstalker," he snorted before putting the phone to his ear. "Hey, Adam! How's Trix? How's the herpes?" A pause. "Alright calm down, it was a joke! Listen mate, I appear to have got myself into a tad bit of a pickle and could do with a place to crash for a bit. Don't suppose you could loan your ol' PE partner the spare room?" Another pause. "Not for long, only…the forseeable future." A third pause. "Hello? Helloooo? Adam? You there?" Nathan hung up. "The bastard put the phone down on me!"

"You accused him of having herpes then asked to live with him for the forseeable future. I can't imagine why he'd do that," I said dryly. And so began the most long-winded chain of phone calls I'd ever experienced sitting through. Apparently none of our former school chums wanted Nathan to stay with them, and he was getting more and more desperate with every hang-up.

"Billy, I need a favour, mate. Can I stay at yours? Come on, it'll be a laugh!"

"Liz, you don't mean that! You don't! Well I don't believe you!"

"Pauly! Pauly boy! The Paul-Meister! …hello?"

"Declan! My brother! Mate, don't suppose I can crash on the sofa for a bit, can I? …Yep. No, it's okay. I'll find somewhere else. No no, I'm good. I'm good." With a final sigh of defeat, he placed the phone down on the coffee table and collapsed back into the cushions. "I'm fucked."

My heart was breaking just looking at him. I'd never seen him so despairing before. "You fucking dingus, just stay with me until you can get yourself sorted!" I exclaimed. "How was that not the most obvious conclusion in your head?!"

"Stay here?" Nathan said almost disbelievingly. "Blakey, ya know I love and respect you and all that bullshit, but are you retarded? I can't stay with you! Think how much that will cramp my style when I want to bring a girl back to shag and you're here, listening from that hole you call a bedroom."

"Are you fucking serious?!" I spluttered.

"Serious as a heart attack, love," he replied. "I'm sorry, but I'm a man. I need man space."

"And where is that 'man space,' exactly?" I demanded. "A sleeping bag under the flyover?"

"You need to chill, Harper. I'll work it out, I always do." He raised both arms in a strong man style, turning his head to kiss his biceps both sides. "Fuckin' Superman over here. I'm untouchable."

"Alright," I sighed. "But don't you fucking dare say I never try to help you out."

"Hey, I would never say such a thing. After all, you were the one who washed my pants after I shat myself when I took too many pills that time."

"Can you please not remind me of that? I still have nightmares of you keeling over in the middle of the club with shit leaking out of your jeans."

06:45am on the dot. My alarm screamed and screamed before I flung my hand out from under the duvet to hit the Snooze button. Sitting up with a yawn, I rubbed my eyes and stewed in the regret of staying up drinking with Nathan until midnight. I'd attempted to convince him to stay with me right up until he left, but he insisted that he'd worked something out, so who was I to argue?

After my usual morning routine of shower, change into skinny jeans and vest, orange juice, Coco Pops and brush teeth, I pulled my sewing machine out of the bottom of the wardrobe and set it up on the table, sitting down in front of it with my freshly washed, paintless jumpsuit. God, this thing was hideous. Alisha had managed to make hers somewhat wearable so fuck it, I'd give it a try too.

Taking my fabric scissors to the left leg, I sheared off most of it to the point where all that was left was enough to form more of a playsuit with shorts rather than a jumpsuit. Once I'd hemmed both legs, I turned up the arms to a three-quarter length as well since we were doing our service over June to September, so by all logic it would be warm. If it wasn't, I could wear tights, long socks or leggings. Sorted.

I was in the process of getting my backpack sorted out, packing my lunch, the jumpsuit et cetera, when my phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Nathan.

BEST FRIEND EMERGENCY. BRING SNACKS AND DRINKS TO COMMUNITY CENTRE.

A second text buzzed in two seconds later. Please.

I let out a snort before replying to him. Sounds like a real emergency, snacks and drinks. Alright, I'll see you in the main hall before everyone else gets there. 10 mins.

I don't say this enough, but I fucking love you. See ya in 10.

Okay, so now on top of the backpack full of my own shit, I also had a Tesco bag-for-life that contained a 2-litre bottle of Coke, a couple of share-sized bags of crisps, some sausage rolls and a bag of Cadbury's buttons since he had a bit of a sweet tooth. Hell, I even made him two rounds of cheese and tomato sandwiches because that's what best friends do. Mother Hen act completed, I laced on my Converse, swung my backpack over my shoulder, grabbed the bag-for-life and headed out for Day 2 of ASBO Rehab.

As expected, I arrived in the empty community centre car park about twenty minutes before anyone else would even remotely consider arriving. As agreed, I opened up the front doors and wandered through to that clinically white coloured main hall. There was the faint smell of disinfectant in the air, along with some kind of manly sweat tang which was a tad repugnant, to say the least.

That was when I spotted Nathan. He was leaning against the vending machine, still wearing yesterday's clothes and talking despondently into his mobile. "-and you'll cry, and I'll move back in. Sorted. Everybody's a winner. Anyway, so call me, yeah? I'll be expecting your call. Okay."

"Nate?" I gently called out when he hung up the phone.

Nathan let out girlish scream and whirled around to face me, pointing an accusing finger. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, Blake! You cannot be creeping up on a man like that, especially one in such a delicate state as myself!"

"Dude, I am like the least quiet person on God's green Earth, how the fuck did you not hear me come in?" I retorted, before wrinkling my nose a little. "Fucking hell, is that smell you?! Did you not wash this morning?!"

"No, Blake, I did not on account of the community centre's fucking hot water being off," he countered.

"Community centre's hot- Nathan, did you stay here last night?!" I shrieked, and he belted over to me and clamped a hand over my mouth.

"Not so fuckin' loud!" he hissed. "If one of those other shitheads turns up and finds out I'm a homeless, my rep is dead! Like, deader than my grandma dead." Cue girlish scream #2 as I licked the palm of his hand to get him to let go. "You fucking animal!"

"You don't have to be a homeless, you prick!" I said heatedly. "Just. Stay. With. ME!"

"I am not havin' this conversation with you again, my delusion little monkey," he replied. "Look." He pointed up at the mezzanine above us. "There's me new bedroom. It's got a mattress, I can keep some of my clothes up there, it's got all the mod cons."

"You know what? You're so right. Girls will definitely prefer being brought to a dingy community centre to get shagged than the flat you could share with your best mate," I said mordantly.

Nathan clapped me heartily on the shoulder. "There we go, Blakey. I knew you'd see it my way. Now why don't you hop your cute little arse up the stairs and leave the food by me bed then help me get all my shit into my locker? Thanks, angel."

"God, you're lucky I love you, bro," I snapped, dragging the bag-for-life to the stairs. After we then wrestled with getting all of Nathan's bags into a spare locker no one would use, we became painfully aware that it was now nearing on ten to eight and everyone was going to start arriving any second. I dusted off my jeans and sauntered off in the direction of the front doors, and that was when Nathan snagged me by the hand and yanked me back to his side.

"Where the fuck are you going?!" he demanded all panicky-like.

"Um, out the front door?" I said slowly, wondering if he was now so traumatized by the last 24 hours that he'd become even more retarded than usual.

"I think the fuck you are not!" he scoffed, beginning to pull me in the direction of the back of the buildings. "I am not having them other tossers work out I'm a homeless, which is exactly what they'll think seeing me walk outta here when I shouldn't be!"

"Do you really think any of them are that intelligent enough to work that out?" I huffed, but I allowed him to steer me right round the back of the storage area where a large iron roll-shutter was blocking a large window. "Oh hell no, am I going through there!"

"Oh hell yes you are, darlin'," he said smugly as he rolled up the shutter. He then squatted down and locked his hands to make a step for me. "Ladies first."

"Arsehole," I grumbled, but I hooked my foot into his hands and allowed him to boost me up so I straddled the window sill. I offered him my hand. "Come on then, I haven't got all day!"

"You're so pushy! Guys don't like that, ya know!" he exclaimed, taking my hand and putting all his weight into hauling himself up onto the sill. Unfortunately, his entire body weight proved a bit too much for my tiny little T-Rex arms, and the force of me trying to pull him up sent us catapulting out of the window. We landed with a crack on the concrete, Nathan letting out a cry of pain. Hm, weird. I'd really been expecting that to cause some serious damage - scraped elbow, bloody nose, cracked rib, maybe - but the landing had barely even forced a huff of air from my body.

"Motherfucker, that could have gone so much smoother," I complained, rolling around to my knees and smirking at Nathan who was busy rolling around the floor like someone had shot him in the chest.

"Oh my God! Oh fuck, it hurts! My back! I think I've broken my back!" he whined.

"Oh God, how will we cope without you today? Oh wait…you're fine," I said with a roll of my eyes. I gave him a swift kick in the ribs for good measure. Funnily enough, the sole of my trainer connecting with his bony side resulted in him jumping to his feet.

"You know, you need to stop hitting me so much!" he cried. "This is an abusive relationship, this is!"

"And you fucking love it," I retorted, giving him a shove towards the front of the building. "Let's move, dickhead."

Sure enough, our other four young offender buddies were waiting around the front, all of them staring at something on the wall. Frowning, I followed their gaze and found myself staring at something that made my blood run cold. There on the blackened wall, emblazoned in bright red dripping letters, was a very clear message.

I AM GOING TO KILL YOU

"Well that is friendly, isn't it," I said dryly, taking a fag out of my backpack and sparking up. Seriously, who took the time to do this kind of shit? Stupid pricky children with nothing better to do with their lives, that's who.

"This is a joke!" said Curtis. "Did one of you do this?"

"Don't look at me cause I didn't do it!" said Kelly irately.

"I'll tell you who did!" Nathan came up behind us, unlit fag in his mouth. "It's that Banksy prick! There's a hidden meaning."

"Yeah. Evidently Banksy is in Wertham," I said scathingly, blowing some of my smoke in his face. "You knob."

"Nah, nah. It's like that monkey policeman with the banana and the Tescos bag!" Nathan insisted, putting his arm around Simon's shoulders.

"Maybe someone wants to kill us," said Simon tremulously.

"Er, why would anyone wanna kill us?" challenged Kelly.

"Yeah. I mean, look at us," I said sarcastically, twirling round in a circle like a model. "We're perfect examples of upstanding, model citizens." It was at that point Tony Probation Worker decided to appear and tell us to get to work.

"Have you seen this?" demanded Curtis, gesturing at the graffiti. "Someone's takin' the piss!"

"Yeah, it's terrible isn't it?" said Tony uninterestedly. "All this anti-social behaviour."

"Oh! Is he havin' a dig at us?" Nathan said around his fag, which he had actually managed to light at last.

Just then, Alisha's phone rang, causing Tony to have some kind of aneurysm. "Right! That's it! All of you, just give me your phones! No one's making any more calls today!" He held his hand out to Alisha. "Now! Come on."

"Are you allowed to take our phones?" she giggled, snapping a picture of him. He snatched it out of her hand before taking Curtis' phone, then Kelly's and Simon's. Nathan put up a fight for his, "I'm expecting a call from my mum!" It made no difference, Tony still took the phone. "Okay, take a message!"

When Tony got to me, I quickly said, "I don't have a phone. I'm um…Amish! Yeah. Amish. We're uh, not so big on the whole 'technology' thing." Of course, at that exact moment my phone decided to vibrate with a text, resulting in me obviously getting it confiscated as well. Irritated, the six of us headed inside to get changed, all of us glaring at Tony and Kelly spitting ,"Wanker!" at him.

"Is he allowed to take our phones?" asked Nathan whilst we were getting changed.

"I doubt it, the power-hungry bastard," I said, shutting my locker and lighting up my second cigarette of the morning. Jesus Christ, another few days of this shit and I'd have officially transitioned into becoming a chainsmoker.

"Yeah. He's probably using them to call one of those sex chat-lines," Nathan continued. Alisha, Kelly and I all laughed.

"Those sex lines will eat your credits," stated Curtis,

"Call them a lot, do you?" bantered Alisha.

"He's out there now filming himself on our phones, naked. Masturbating," Nathan felt the need to suggest.

I pretended to gag. "God, I'd need therapy for the rest of my life if I saw that."

"You mean more therapy than you've already had," Nathan snorted, resulting in a swift jab to the throat. "Son of a bitch! Abuse! Abuse!"

"Stop complaining for once, Nate, you're giving me a headache," I said, tightening the belt around my waist. God, I looked a little bit good in my modified jumpsuit, though I certainly didn't miss Alisha glaring daggers at me when she saw it. I had to suppress as smile at that; just because the little slut was jealous of how fit I looked without my tits on display didn't mean she had to stare at me like I'd torn a puppy apart with my bare hands.

"After putting up with you for seventeen years, I think I'm more than entitled to complain a little bit," he ribbed, blowing me a kiss.

"By that logic, putting up with your pasty Irish arse for that long entitles me to a four-month stay in a Thai relaxation resort and unlimited access to as much vodka as I need."

"How the fuck have you been friends with him for that long?" Curtis asked me.

I shrugged. "No one else has stuck around like he has, as hard to believe as that might be. He's a bellend-"

"I resent that!"

"-but he's a bellend who I can't imagine life without."

"I'm gonna be sick," Alisha mock-gagged, and I flashed a middle finger at her.

"Funnily enough, Alisha, some of us are capable of being around men without putting their penises in our mouths," I said sweetly.

"You wanna go, bitch?" she snarled.

"Nah, you're alright, love," I giggled. "Wouldn't want you to mess up your hair. Let's go, Nathan." And with that, Nathan and I departed the locker room together, stubbing my fag out on the door as I went.

Today we'd been given the delightful task of cleaning up the graffiti off the wall. Well, it sure beat having to scrape up dog shit or whatever else Tony had had planned for us. We each took our own little spot on the wall. Well, I say all. Alisha saw fit to just lay back on one of the tables, jumpsuit stripped down to the waist so she could tan and mouth off about how someone could suck her dick.

The constant preening of herself made me want to cunt-punch her. Alisha was self-absorbed, small-minded and on the whole exactly what I had labelled her earlier: a slut. Apparently this didn't bother Curtis, who was looking at her with what I think he imagined was an attractive face, but just really made him look like he was trying to hold in a particularly explosive shite.

"After the storm," said Kelly suddenly. "Did any of yous lot feel like, dead weird?"

"Yeah, I had a strange tingling sensation in my anus!" exclaimed Nathan.

"All I had was one motherfucker of a stomach ache," I said, rubbing at the spot it had been.

Kelly turned to Simon, who hadn't said a word. "What, did you feel weird?"

"What you don't want to hear about my anus?" Nathan sounded wounded.

"Yeah totally. I can't think of anything I'd rather discuss than your arse," I said with derision. "I think that's more the conversation you should save for your next doctor's appointment. I'm sure they'd love to hear about your tingling bumhole." He grinned cockily at me for about the third time that day and we continued scrubbing away.

"Something happened," Simon admitted.

"What's that? Squeak up!" That obviously came from Nathan.

"Something happened to me," said Simon quietly.

"Are you a virgin? Hi-hiii!" Nathan put on a ridiculous singing voice for that last bit.

"Shut up!" Kelly shouted at him, causing him to stop abruptly.

"What happened, Simon?" I prompted him encouragingly.

"It's nothing," said Simon, turning back to the letter T he was trying to scrub off.

We scrubbed for about another thirty seconds, until Kelly suddenly threw herself at Nathan, slamming him backwards so that he nearly tripped over his bucket of water and fell into me, knocking me face-first into the damp.

"What was that for?" he cried as Kelly stormed off.

"What the fuck!" I shrieked, peeling myself away from the brick. "What's her problem?"

"Like fuck if I know!" said Nathan, sounding genuinely confused. "Jesus."

After another half an hour, the five of us decided we deserved a break. Tony hadn't bothered to come back to check on us and, to be frank, we probably wouldn't have cared if he had.

Simon, Curtis, Nathan and I headed into the main hall, where there was a foosball table and a few chairs, and obviously the vending machine. Alisha had buggered off somewhere, and Kelly still hadn't returned from her dramatic escape. Curtis and Nathan started up a game of foosball while Simon watched, and I curled up in one of the chairs with the True Blood book I'd brought from home. Despite trying to block out the boys' conversation, Nathan's voice had a way of drilling itself into my brain.

"It's a shame more women don't commit crimes. Why is that?" he said. "Still, we did get lucky on the whole." I looked up, wondering what he was on about.

"What d'you mean?" asked Curtis.

"There's three girls, and three boys. Perfect division, my friend. One for each of us! Even you're gettin' one, Weird Kid!" I bristled at his assumption that us girls would just want to sleep with the boys. He was my best mate but my God, he was so clueless sometimes, it actually hurt.

"There were four of us," said Simon quietly. He was, no doubt, referring to Mr Stabby, who hadn't even bothered turning up today.

"I'm talkin' about gettin' laid!" said Nathan as though it was obvious. He looked at Curtis. "So how're we gonna do this, man?" I sighed. He was genuinely being serious.

"Do what?"

"Er, hello? He obviously wants you to decide how to divide the three of us so each of you get a shag," I called over.

"She's right, man. How we gonna split them up? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, the one with all the frizzy hair? I don't see me and her gettin' it on."

Curtis snorted. "Because she's beautiful?"

"No, because she'd be way too much effort!" Nathan replied. "She looks seriously high-maintenance! You'd have to treat her really well. Pfft! Now Blake-" He pointed at me. Oh God, here we go. "She's fit enough. But obviously I can't shag her, it'd be like fucking my sister and this is not Norfolk, my friends."

"Get fucked, Nathan," I said hotly, shooting him the V.

"Love you, Blakey!" he called over, pursing his lips in a mocking kiss. I just rolled my eyes. "But the other one..."

"Kelly," Simon supplied.

"Whatever," Nathan scoffed. "A couple of Bacardi Breezers, I reckon she'll be good to go! I might need more than a couple myself, but who's counting?"

"Nathan, you hate chavs," I reminded him.

"I don't hate chavs with big tits," he replied with an extremely cocky smirk. Cue eye roll number two and me shoving my book into my backpack.

"I can't listen to this anymore," I muttered. "Nate, when you decide to stop deluding yourself that community service is gonna get you laid, come find me, I need to borrow a quid for the vending machine at some point in exchange for the lunch I so lovingly packed for you."

Once I was in the hallway, I saw Alisha sprawled along the orange sofa, applying yet more lipgloss to her already over-glossed lips. Not even paying her any attention, I collapsed on the other sofa opposite her. I couldn't be bothered to make any form of small talk, as she always seemed to find a way to turn the conversation to herself. Instead, I pulled a third cigarette out of my pocket and lit it, ignoring the No Smoking signs on the walls. Yep, Chainsmoker Blake was on her way to making an appearance.

A few minutes later Nathan came out of the main hall and into the hallway. He winked at me and I responded by giving him the finger. He just gave me typical cocky grin before he started attacking the vending machine like he had the day before.

Simon came out next, sitting down on the floor near Alisha's sofa and drawing his knees up to his chin, and finally out came Curtis, was putting away the buckets we'd been using before Alisha started speaking to him.

"When I was in Sixth Form you came to my school," she said. That was when Nathan appeared around from behind the sofa in one of the wheelchairs. "You gave this big talk about athletics, and all your medals and that."

"So I'm guessing you're not going to the Olympics?" Nathan quipped.

"Funny," said Curtis bitterly.

"So, what exactly did you get done for?" I asked. "Because no offence, mate, it seems like you fucked up big time."

"I heard he was dealing crack," said Alisha.

"What?! I wasn't dealing crack!"

"Nah, that's not it. I heard it was heroin," I put in.

"No, no, paper said it was steroids," said Nathan, who was gearing himself up for tormenting Curtis.

Alisha inhaled sharply and slouched down the sofa so she was laying down. "That stuff will shrivel your dick."

"It wasn't steroids!" insisted Curtis. "I'm not a cheat! That stuff in the papers was bullshit."

"Yeah, so what was it then?" Alisha demanded.

Nathan and I looked at him expectantly. Curtis hesitated, then sighed. "I got caught with a little bit of coke." Nathan tutted, Alisha looked away like she was bored, and I raised my eyebrows at him. "Alright? I messed up one time."

"Nobody gets community service for possession," stated Alisha.

"If it was anyone else, they'd've got a caution," said Curtis. "I get two hundred hours community service and a two year ban from athletics! They said, because of my 'profile' they needed to 'send a message'."

"You let yourself down," Nathan said slyly from the wheelchair. Curtis turned to him, a look of pure venom on his face. "You let the kids down, you let your parents down-"

It was like he'd thrown a bomb at Curtis. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he exploded, grabbing hold of Nathan by his jumpsuit. "All I ever did was train! You know nothing! I shouldn't even fucking be here!" He jabbed Nathan in the face.

"You can't hit someone in a wheelchair!" Nathan said breathlessly. Curtis spat, "Prick!" at him and released him so abruptly that the wheelchair got pushed back about a metre.

I snorted, and Curtis rounded on me. "You wanna say something to?"

"Yeah, actually. Life's a bitch. I get that you're pissed your athletics career's in tatters, I do. But come on, man. Stop thinking of all the past shit and look towards the future shit, because all this?" I gestured around the tiny hallway. "It can only get better."

Curtis gave me a look of, Are you serious? and settled back into sulking against the wall. If it had been a cartoon, you'd have been able to see smoke coming out of his ears. He was seriously starting to piss me off with his 'oh boo hoo poor me' routine.

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, then, "Do you wanna know what I got done for?" from Alisha.

"Not really," said Nathan.

"You know what? Go for it, actually," I said to her. "Any story is better than that last shitty sob story."

Smirking, Alisha proceeded to tell us the story of how she and some girl none of us knew had gone to a party and this girl had had a spaz attack about some people we didn't know that were doing each other. By this point the boys had all gathered in front of her like kids listening to their mum tell a story, while I stayed put on the other sofa.

"I'm driving us back into town. Chloe's all like, 'I feel sick!' and I'm like, 'Aha, don't puke in my car! Do not puke in my car!' That's when the police pull us over," Alisha was saying. I was starting to get bored by now, as were the boys. Just fucking get to the point! I wanted to shout.

However, it was her demonstration of what she'd done to a breathalyser that really caught the boys' attention, all of them kind of cringing their legs to stop their dicks bursting out of their trousers. I, however, actually managed to finally get the gist that she'd been done for drink-driving and attempting to suck off a breathalyser.

She finished her story with, "Now I don't know if this cop is gay or what, but he tells me I'm four times over the limit! That's bullshit! I didn't even wanna go to the party!"

I was about to reply with a snarky comment about how she should've stayed home then, when Kelly burst through the doors, falling to the floor. "He's gonna kill us!" she shouted fearfully.

I jumped to my feet, staring at the quivering, pale wreck of Kelly. What the fuck had just happened?!

A/N- Please review! I always love to hear what you liked, what you didn't, thoughts and feelings in general! Xx Gee xX

Chapter Two Playlist
Transparent – Porcelain and the Tramps
All Signs Point to Lauderdale - A Day to Remember