Drenched in sweat and air burning in my lungs I continued to swing at the punching bag. Despite the state of the art facilities surrounding me, Quinn had insisted I use a good old fashion hanging bag. Heavy boxing gloves covered my hands, the word Everlast arching over my knuckles.

Quinn stood behind the bag steadying it and instructing me on which kicking or punching combinations to strike with next. Following each command I was in a zone. With each smack of my to the bag, I could feel myself being liberated and my stress leaking from my body.

Quickly after getting off the phone with Quinn I had ran up the eight flights of stairs to my room. I didn't have the patience or the social grace to wait for the elevator. I changed into an outfit I knew Mason would hate, forced my wild hair out of my eyes, and took off back down to the gym.

Quinn had taken just one look at my expression and led me into a cavernous room filled with boxing equipment. Without a word he tossed a pair of black and grey boxing gloves at me. They were at least a size too big and took a lot of adjusting to get right on my hands. With my heart pounding and venom in my eyes we fell into an easy rhythm.

I paused to wipe the sweat dripping down my forehead and I took my first glance around the room. We had been down here for at least a half in hour and I had yet to notice anything but Quinn or the bag. The room was busier than I thought. Almost every bag stand was occupied and the two small boxing rings in the center of the room each had a line of people waiting for the their turn. As I scanned the room I met several different pairs of appraising eyes. Why were all these people down here on their vacations?

"Over here," Quinn yelled," focus. My eyes switched up to him and resumed my position. "What are we here for Paris?" Quinn questioned me for the first time. "What's got you so worked up?"

I stepped out of my crouch and glared up a him, "Are you joking?" I glanced back at the bag.

"You want to pretend that's Mason, I get that," Quinn said seriously. "Beat the snot out of him. No one could argue with that."

"No, it's not about Mason," I said honestly surprised by my answer. I was more sad and disappointed with Mason then bloodthirsty. Sure part of me wanted to kick him squarely between the legs, but that's not what had me seething.

"Okay," Quinn conceded, "talk to me."

"I am so sick," I paused swinging an uppercut into the bag and catching Quinn off guard, "of all the lies." Jamming my knee into the bag I continued ranting, "I can't escape them. At home, my family, everything I do, everywhere I go." Alternating punches and kicks I punctuated each phrase.

Quinn nodded, but didn't interrupt me until I was finished.

"Just a week without having to lie about who I am, without a coverup. That's all I wanted this week," I exploded the bottom of my foot slamming in bag. Quinn took a step backward at the force of my kick. Surprising me Quinn tossed the bag to the side and came straight for me.

I instinctually took a step backwards, but wasn't intimidated my his glare.

Quinn raised an eyebrow at me, "Feel better Paris?"

"Yeah," I shrugged breathing hard, "a little bit."

"It's my fault," Quinn whispered," I should have done more."

"What, no," I shook my head at him," I don't blame you."

"Maybe not, but I do," Quinn admitted guilt etched in his features.

Quinn's misplaced blame knocked the fight out of me and I sagged grabbing the bag for support.

"Come on," Quinn demanded. After helping me pull the gloves off my hands, he threw them into a bin along the wall and I followed toward the door.

"Who the new girl Quinn?" a voice along the wall startled me.

A group of five different men stood together tossing some kind of medicine ball. Each one was probably in their early or mid twenties. They were all openly staring at me. I tugged my damp hair smoothing my side pony tail around my neck and down in front of my chest self consciously.

leveled a glare at the man. His annoyed voice driving home a point, "Sixteen Christoph. She's sixteen."

The cocky grins fell off their faces. "What's she doing still here? Didn't the buses leave earlier to take them all back to school?"

"I'm a rebel," I spoke up annoyed with all the man's assumptions.

The man grinned down at me. He was enormous, not just tall but broad and stocky. I couldn't guess how much this guy weighted, he was enormous with sandy brown hair and surfer boy blue eyes. "Spunky. I bet Rose loves her."

"She does. As matter a fact Rose is very protective of Paris and Eddie is practically rabid," Quinn tried to warn him.

I folded my arms across my now dark pick sports bra as I watched the men verbally spar.

"Well, any friend of Rose's," the man started grinning in a way I knew he enjoyed irritating Quinn.

"Sixteen," Quinn repeated tugging me toward the door.

"Well, I'll keep an eye out for you, Paris right?" he turned toward me and after wiping his palm on his towel offered it to me.

It was a dare, a double dare really and I wasn't going to back down. My back straightened and meeting his eyes expressionlessly I reached out for his hand.

"Right"

"You'd think I'd remember a unique name like that. Your mother must be fascinating," he prodded me.

"You have no idea," I smirked enjoying the confused looked that crossed his face, "but most people think my father is more interesting."

"Come on Paris," Quinn ordered opening the heavy door for me.

Turning back slightly I caught sight of the man's neck. It was completely covered with little black marks. There were so many it almost appeared to be one big design.

I turned and followed Quinn out of the room and down a cold hallway. He opened an empty racquetball room and glared at me until I entered.

"Stretch," he ordered, "or your going to feel like crap tomorrow."

"Here?" I asked as I looked over the very hard floor.

"Paris," Quinn warned and I did as I was told.

Cautiously I asked, "So what was all that."

Quinn walked over and stared down at me."All what."

"O, I don't know the dick measuring contest I just observed."

Quinn rolled his eyes and walked over to lean against the wall. The whole time we had been there he hadn't even broken a sweat.

"That was Christoph. He and his merry bunch of followers are the personal guardians to the royal court. These are the guys that take care of the head royals. Besides the royal family, it's the most prestigious appointment you can have."

"You don't like him," I stated honestly.

Quinn's face softened, "I don't like that he made you feel uncomfortable. I don't want to make anything else harder on you."

I frowned, "How do you know that he was making me uncomfortable? They can all stare all they want. I don't care."

"You always pull on you hair and wrap it around you protectively when you're nervous."

I didn't respond. Honestly, I didn't really have the mental capacity.

"Considering your attire it could have been worse," Quinn sighed. "Didn't Mason warn you to be careful how you dressed down here?"

I laughed humorlessly," Yup."

"Right you're a rebel now," Quinn mocked me rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger.

I stood up quickly my anger returning and reminding me why I was here in the first place. I gazed down at my sports bra and running shorts. I may be showing my stomach, but all the important places were covered. It been an intense workout and I was drenched in sweat. "That is incredibly sexist you know. I shouldn't have to dress to appease you or any other man."

"Sexist," Quinn repeated puckering his face like the word didn't taste right in his mouth.

"Yeah, this place is incredibly sexist." I threw my hands on my hips and began to rant, "Don't dress in workout clothes when you're dripping with sweat because some smarmy guy might hit on you. Pretend you didn't kill the Strigoi Paris because no one would believe a girl." I wanted to continue, but Quinn cut me off.

"What," Quinn screamed dropping his Nalgean bottle to the ground with a bang that echoed in the empty room. "You think it's because you are a girl?"

I made no attempt to move. My face puckered in disgust I slowly nodded my head, "What else am I supposed to think!"

"That's insane! This has nothing to do with you being a guy or a girl. Rose has a higher kill number than ninety percent of the guardians. This is about protecting you, not calling attention to how talented and strong you are."

"Why," I practically screamed, "that doesn't make sense! This is supposed to be the place where being strong and smart is celebrated."

"If the Moroi knew how talented you are with almost no instruction they would be relentless." With a pained expression, Quinn tried to explain, "the number of girls become Guardians hasn't just dropped it's disappeared. The Moroi have started a campaign to get the numbers up. It is aggressive and obnoxious. Your father doesn't want that kind of attention for you or your family."

"Everyone already wants me to go to Saint Vlad's," I admitted almost sadly.

"Just think how much worst it would be if they knew what really happened."

"It was my father," I repeated as all the air left my lungs.

Quinn sighed, "Yes, he insisted. I argued with him, but there was no changing his mind."

"He didn't even bother to tell me," I said using my hands to cover my face in embarrassment.

Quinn reached out and gently pealed my fingers back away from my face, "I get it the whole thing reeks, but it really will be easier for you this way."

"It's all the lies," I shouted. "Everywhere I go more lies about more things. How am I supposed to live like this?"

"Listen I have a friend he is an incredible artist. If you want your marks I think I can get him to do it. He owes me a favor," he glanced up at the clock, "I'm pretty sure he's leaving tomorrow, but I can give him a call if you're interested. No one can ever take those away from you. You earned them, you deserve it."

"It's not about recognition Quinn."

"I know," he reassured me, "but it's your right. You saved my life Paris. Do you know how many people would have just taken off and left me to die? I could never thank you enough. If I had done my job correctly," Quinn stopped swallowing so hard his Adam's apple bobbed, "I'm nobody Paris. You risked your life for a nobody."

"You think I should have left you to be some animals' snack!"

Quinn shrugged, "No one would have blamed you."

"What the hell does that mean Quinn. You're a Guardian, not a nobody. How could you even say that?"

"I'm not," Quinn sighed. "Abe pays me, but I'm not really a Guardian. I didn't go to school for it like everyone else. What I know I learned on my own."

"Why is that?" I wondered the words hanging in the air.

Quinn flinched, his strong posture crumbling, "It's a long story."

I raised my arms motioning to our empty surroundings, "All I got is time."

"Paris," he pleaded, "you have got to understand my mother is similar to yours in certain ways."

I pondered that, the puzzle pieces coming together in my mind, "she's not quite like us?"

"No, where I come from there are very few people like us and even fewer like Abe."

Okay, so his mother was human that was both great and horrible at the same time.

"When I was eighteen I met Abe and he explained to me what I was. I had no idea I was any different from my mother."

"What!" I shivered in disbelief. The cold room and lack of movement catching up to me. "Seriously, you didn't know you were a dhampir?"

"Nope, I had no idea what that was. Vampires were just a legend that you saw sometimes in the moves. My mother had suspicions. She always watched me like she was waiting for something to happen. Before I was born she worked in a pub and best I can guess is my father came in looking for his dinner. Got a bit more out of my mother I suppose. She was a good woman, a good mother but, I grew up confused."

"Abe, always got his fingers in too many pies," I said under my breath feeling breathless.

"What?"

I shook my head to distract him and to clear my mind, "Nothing just something my mom says. How many people know?"

"I'm not sure, Dimitri and maybe Rose. When I started Abe had another guard that taught me, trained me. The guy was fierce I couldn't have had a better teacher. Unfortunately, he was older and life hadn't been easy on him."

"Wow, I can't believe you told me that."

"Paris," Quinn chuckled, "you just spent the last hour and a half telling me how much you hate lies. You smashed that bag for an hour just to get that anger out. Do you expect me to lie to you now?"

I was totally speechless. I finally got someone to be honest with me and I had no idea what I was supposed to say.

"I think that you should get the tattoo," Quinn blurted out. "I think that if you don't you'll regret it."

"Really," I said tilting my head toward him. I hadn't every really thought about it before. I had killed more than my share of Strigoi, but it never occurred to me.

Quinn laughed, "Would I lie to you?"

"I guess not," I said smiling. My mouth felt strange the corners of my face turning up for the first time all day. "You know my dad will probably freak out right?"

"Did he tell you not to when I brought it up?" Quinn treaded carefully.

My smile widened, "Nope."

After Quinn insisted I take his sweatshirt, I set off to my room for a shower. I felt lighter, freer, but still angry. Instead of being generally pissed, it was more focused on my father. I wasn't a baby, if he was going to make real decisions about my life he had to at least let me in on it.

True to his word forty-five minutes after leaving the him, Quinn texted me a room number. The plan was to meet up in fifteen minutes and get to know his friend talented friend Gunnar.

I was equal parts psyched and horrified. My mother had her own tattoo and it was on her face. That had to hurt a lot more than on my neck. It would also be much easier to hide. Staring down at my phone I gathered my courage and headed across the lodge closer to where Mason and Alex's room had been. It was a couple of floors lower, but I still kept alert for Rose or Dimitri. They weren't leaving until the next day along with Eddie and Jill. I had a feeling if I ran into anyone my act of rebellion would be over before it started.

Knocking softly on the door I remembered that they weren't sound proofed like my own. A slightly plump man with shinny dark eyes answered the door.

"Paris?" he asked looking confused. I must not have been what he was expecting.

"Yes I'm Paris," I said reaching my hand out, "you must be Gunner."

"The one and only," he smiled opening the door for me.

Glancing around happy to see Quinn sitting just inside the door. I didn't make a habit of walking into strange mens room's.

"So how does a Guardian become a tattoo artist," I asked hoping to break the ice.

"Well, I was always really interested in art. I kept at it and taught myself all about sketching and painting. I never had many opportunities to show my talent though." Gunner sighed, "I had a friend who started tattooing to make some extra money, he showed me the ropes. Started out with the really simple stuff like just the Molnija marks and worked my way into other stuff. Voila, now I'm the guy everyone wants doing their ink."

"So you have a lot of experience?"

Quinn and Gunner looked up and me laughing.

"Yeah, you could say that. If you want an example of my work take a look at Quinn," Gunner motioned for Quinn to swivel around in his chair. A beautiful cross was tattooed in the middle of Quinn's shoulder blades. In the inside there was several small lightning like strikes. The scroll work on the cross and the intricate details were incredible. It really did look like art. How had I never noticed that before?

"Quinn brought me the paper work so we can do this now, or you can wait to have a ceremony. Either way is fine," Gunnar explained, "but this is my last day of vacation so if I get all my equipment set up and you chicken out, I'm not going to lie, it's going to annoy me."

I looked to Quinn, "What paper work?"

He shrugged, "You have to have verification. Gunner here can't just tattoo anyone. It all has to be officially filed or Gunnar could get in some deep trouble."

"Seriously?" I blurted out looking between the guys.

"O'yeah," Gunnar confirmed, "I have no idea how he managed to get the paper work so quickly. It usually takes at least a week."

I sat down in a chair across from Quinn. "How many favors did you call in for this?"

Turning to face Gunnar, he didn't answer me.

"I need to you understand this is permanent. There is no changing your mind or going back. I will do my best to keep everything as sterile as possible, but there is still a risk of an infection. You are going to have to take care of it for a few days. So what do you think Paris," Gunnar said anxiously, "are we going to do this now?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "let's do it."

"Alright! Good for you." Gunnar encouraged, "You have anything in mind?" Sitting beside me he pulled out a large binder and pulled out a couple of pieces of paper.

"I want it to be small, maybe the size of a quarter. Not much bigger, I'm going to want to be able to cover it up. Other than that I'm not sure."

"Okay we can work with that," Gunnar nodded. "No chance you are going to get promise marks right?"

"Nope," I confirmed my eyes wide.

"I had this one design I have been dying to do," he said showing me the paper, "it would need to slightly bigger than you described, but I could put it high enough that your hair would help cover it."

I looked down instantly in love with the design. It was a Celtic style knot open in the center. He had taken his time getting the curves and angles just right. In the center he had placed have small marks. I was happy to see it really wasn't much bigger than I had described.

"It's so perfect!"

Gunnar smiled broadly showing of his white smile, "I thought so too. What do you think Quinn?"

"That's why I brought her to you," Quinn grinned.

It didn't take long before it was over. Gunnar set up his equipment and put some kind of tracing paper on me. Before I knew it I was done. He had placed two of the little lightning marks in the center, but I would have the option in the future to add the other three. If I earned them. I prayed I never would.

"I feel like I owe you something," I whined as Gunnar held up the mirror for me so I could see the reflection in his bathroom mirror. He rubbed some kind of cream on it and after bandaging it up gave me the care instructions. "It doesn't seem fair that a favor should cover it."

Gunnar looked at me seriously, "Quinn is a good guy, one I consider a friend. You don't get many of those in my line of work. I don't care about a favor, you saving his ass was all the payment I needed. Plus I loved doing it. I hate doing the standard marks that everyone gets."

I gave them both hugs and headed back to my room. My father and Jill had both texted me throughout the day and I studiously ignored them. There was a good chance that they would be waiting for me back at the room and I knew my little act of rebellion wasn't going to be well received.

I pulled the elastic tie holding the tight bun on top of my head out and my hair fell to my shoulders. It didn't change what I had done, but it might buy me a little time.

Just as I was expecting I opened the door to my hotel room to find both Jill and my father glaring at me. They both looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something.

My father stood in the door way between our room with his hands crossed over his chest. "You want to tell me why you decided to ditch Jill and your grandmother?"

"You want to tell me why you insisted on lying to everyone on about with happened with Quinn?" I quickly fired back.

Dad's eyes popped open,"Tell me you're joking."

"Why would I be joking," I said boldly and taking a step toward my father, "you couldn't even be bothered to let me in on it. You know I'm not a very convincing actress when I don't have the script."

"You need to watch your tone," he flinched. "I have to make decisions on what's best for this family!" Shaking his head at me, "I guess I was wrong to expect you to understand that."

"No way. I have been towing the line since I could understand that I was different, that this family needed protecting. I've never questioned it. I've been a good little girl for sixteen years!" I could feel the anger bubbling up through my throat. "So, why did you bring me here and dangle this life in front of me? It's not real, it's all lies just like at home!"

"I brought you here because I thought you were mature enough to handle it all. It seems maybe I was wrong." He raked his fingers through his hair the tension building in the room, "Now I've got people asking all kinds of questions and I have no idea what to do! This is serious stuff Paris. Even the guard is sniffing around. What we do here could have serious consequences on our whole family. Think about your mother and Ben for a moment, not just your pride."

Jill looked incredibly uncomfortable. She could feel my father's anger, but had a much different perspective. "Adrian, you know she's been having a tough time," Jill spoke quietly and with all of the pity I had seen earlier.

I had never really fought with my parents before. Sure they had done things that had made me upset or that I hadn't understood, but I had never stood up to them before. This was a first for all of us.

"After the way you behaved this evening I'm surprised that Jill is willing to stick up for you!"

I felt like I had been slapped, "The way I acted? I'm sorry but it wasn't her job to fill me in our latest cover up."

"Do you even understand how difficult it was for Jill to here this week? She rearranged her whole schedual to be here to support you and this is how you thank her?"

I paused not sure what to say.

"It's okay Adrian," Jill spoke slowly, "we all knew this was going to be emotional."

"It's a good thing she did, I've seen you like three times all week! Where have you been?"

Some of the fury melted from his face and he shook his head slightly. "I guess I've been going through a lot this week myself. I'm sorry if you felt ignored," Dad said not quite apologizing, "I made reservations for dinner, just you and me at this great steak restaurant. It's supposed to be incredible," Dad smirked, "you want to have dinner with me?"

I rolled my eyes at him and leaned on his chest felling him wrap his long arms around me. It felt warm and safe. "I guess."

"You were doing so well making friends and you had Mason. Please tell me isn't all because of Mason?"

"What! No," I shouted pulling away from him. My voice cracking and giving me away, "I don't want to talk about him, now, or ever!"

"Maybe that's what you need," Jill suggested quietly.

"I knew the score with Mason from day one. I have excepted it and it's time to move on," I said taking a deep cleansing breath, "I don't want to talk about it anymore and I definitely don't want to hear you defending his behavior. I don't care who he is or how wonderful everyone thinks he is. I'm not going to chase after him or call him. As far as I'm concerned the guy doesn't exist."

"Geez, Paris no one expects you to chase after him and I don't blame you, I wouldn't call him either after the crap he pulled this morning," Dad laughed under his breath.

I shot Jill a look and the room suddenly became awkward.

"What? Jill you didn't actually suggest that?"

Jill quickly cut him off, "Come on Adrian you know me better than that. I was just trying some reverse psychology to see what kind of frame of mind Paris was in. The good new is she passed. She seems to skipped the weepy sad stage and jumped right to pissed." Jill sighed leaning back and sitting partially on the desk."

"Are you insane? Why would you put those kind of ideas in a sixteen year old girl's head? What you're a psychologist now?" Dad said rolling his eyes.

"No," Jill slumped back, "but I know girls, and Paris was a wild card."

I turned and walked toward Jill completely shocked, "So our conversation earlier was just one big joke?"

"No honey," Jill opened her arms and pulled me in for a hug, "truthfully though, over my cold dead body would I have let you go after him." Jill's hand slowly patted down my hair soothingly as I hugged her.

"Don't say that kind of stuff. I'm sorry if I was a spoiled brat," I apologized into her shoulder.

She pulled me back with a sweet smile, "This is nothing, you wouldn't believe what your father has put me through."

Her face crumpled, "What's that weird smell?"

"I know," Dad chimed in, "it smells like something's burning."

They both looked at me questioningly. Damn Moroi's blood hound nose.

"Where's it coming from?" my father said taking a step toward me.

"I've smelled it before but I can't place it." Jill's face changed to horror as she looked me over. "Apparently I spoke too soon."

"What is that," my father said slowly, "you been hanging around a fire user?"

"Tell him Paris. Tell him before I do!"

"I may have done something a little out of character," I admitted.

His eyes raking over me he asked cautiously,"How out of character?"

"Ummm."

Jill jumped off the desk and planted her hands firmly on her Gucci belt. "Show us Paris."

I scrunched my eyes closed and turned around. I couldn't see my father's face, but I was sure it was a mixture of shock and horror. I ripped the bandaid off, slowly pulling it from my skin.

I was expecting a gasp of shock from Jill or a curse word to come out of my father, but the room stayed menacingly quiet.

Slowly turning around the eerily quiet room made me shiver. For some reason I would have rather had the scream at me.

Jill's mouth was hanging open, and my father was now wringing his hands. A thrumming feeling of tension echoed through the room.

"Okay say something, anything!"

After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence my father took a step toward me, "I gave you just enough rope to hang yourself Paris."

Jill's panicked expression was frightening me. "What are we going to do?" she squeaked out.

"Not much we can do," my father said looking completely shell shocked. "I might kill Quinn, slowly."

"Your grandmother's going to lose it. All that polite composure of hers is going to a thing of the past." Jill said desperately, Can't you heal it?"

"I don't think I can."

"Well at least heal it so it doesn't give off that terrible smell!"

Motioning to me with his finger I moved closer to my father. His expression was still vacant and oddly empty.

"I hope you've enjoyed your freedom here because you mother probably won't ever let you out of the house again," Dad warned me. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck as a bold of warmth hit me. Immediately the soar stiff feeling lifted and the tattoo felt much better.

"Get dressed," Dad ordered as he walked out of my room.

I stood there puzzled. "We're still going out?"

"It's probably my last night of freedom too. Your mother's going to kill us both." The adjoining door closed and I looked back at Jill for help.

Thank you so much to everyone that is following my story, especially those of you that have recently favored it. It makes my day every time! Everyone seemed to like Mathew's POV from my last chapter so I thought I would give you a little bit more. I know I owe everyone a Mason chapter, it should be up by this weekend.

It had been a weird morning. I woke up stiff, my jaw still not feeling right. I could have gone to the medical center, but it was a long walk and I was feeling lazy.

It had been a long night. Paisley and Andrew were all over me. Not being able to help herself Paisley texted Alyssa and Paris. They were both a bit hysterical, but I guess I should of expected it.

Before I had even left my bed there was a message on my machine ordering me to Headmaster Wellington's office. She was an older woman with perfectly pitch black hair and wire rimmed glasses. She was a bit plump compared to most of the Moroi woman because of her particular liking for sweets. Her's was a face I had seen ofter. I was always helping out on committees and charitable events that the school sponsored. Which usually amounted to me showing up and smiling. It wasn't hard work.

Her secretary had left me a detailed message on where and when I was arrive. She sounded chipper enough, but I knew it wasn't going to be a social visit. I was really hoping that the Headmistress planned to meet Mason and I separately. I had a lot of things I still wanted to say to Mason, non of which were going to help our case.

I arrived early gaining a sweet smile from each of the woman working in the office.

"Please come in and sit Mr. Zelkos."

"Thank you Headmistress," I said as politely as I could manage moving across the room to sit in one of her leather high backed chairs. The whole situation had seemed like a joke until now. I knew I wouldn't be in a real trouble. The last thing the school would want to do was contact my mother. No one wanted to deal with her, including me.

"I believe you know why I asked you to come speak with me," she said expectantly.

I nodded forcing a serious expression on my face. It wasn't that I thought that it was a joke, it was more that I didn't care what happened to Mason. They could throw him out of here for all I cared. He deserved it.

"I have been briefed on the events last night in the cafeteria and I must say I am disappointed. You have always been a model of respectability. I understand that did not initiate the physical altercation, however you can't taunt the dhampirs dear they are under a tremendous amount of stress. It isn't any wonder Mr. Belikov snapped."

I listened to her half hearted rant patiently nodding along. I had learned early on how to play this game.

"I understand and I want you to know I would have never made any move toward physical violence Ma'am. It is appalling to me that Mason sunk to that level. Luckily, I wasn't injured. However, my dear friend Paisley Abernathy was almost caught in the crossfire. Can you imagine how horrible things could have turned had she been injured."

The Headmistress sat back in her chair and I heard the old springs creek. "I hadn't heard that?" the way her eyes narrowed at my words and the look on her face told me that she was very displeased this new development. "Do you have witnesses that could verify this?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I nodded "I'm sure that Paisley herself would be happy to corroborate the story, she was just barely pulled to safety."

"While I have you here," she added looking down at an open manila folder, 'I wanted to know how you feel about the classes you have for next semester. I see here you had some difficulties last semester. I'm sure I don't have explain to you how you grades now will effect your future."

I sighed, "I want to do better. I understand that the grades are important, but all I can honestly say is that I'm going to try harder."

She gave me a small smile and I thought she might believe me. I had many of these lectures from teachers over the years. Most of which ending badly. "I think it might be a good idea to be proactive this semester don't you? I can see you are taking some challenging courses," she said lowering her glasses. "These are college entry level classes you understand that right?"

"Yes, I believe they are," I said quietly trying to come up with a way to change the course of our conversation. "Over break I was able to secure myself a tutor."

"Really," she said laying the file down on the desk, "for which classes?"

"All of them," I told her quickly, "it will be online or over the phone, but I really think it's going to help."

"That's impressive Mathew. I hope who ever you find has a firm hand Mathew you need some help with your work ethic. If I thought you weren't smart enough to handle these classes I would take you out of them. You are a smart kid," she punctuated each work making shiver, "and I'm sick of excuses."

"I understand."

"Perhaps we will revisit this conversation in a few weeks?"

Wonderful, I reluctantly nodded. With the Headmaster breathing down my neck I was going to need Paris more than ever.

I watched as she picked up her phone and dialed her secretary and asked for Mason to be brought in.

Mason opened the door assessing the room and walked to stand next to the only other chair in the room.

"Please sit Mr. Belikov. I want you to know that I spoke to both guardians Longly and Howard and they both spoke very highly you. To my surprise, Guardian Howard mentioned that you are well known for your control and discretion. After speaking to Mr. Zelkos I was quite shocked to find out that not only did you put Mathew in danger, but additional students as well. Do you have anything say for yourself?"

"Just that I take complete responsibility for the situation Headmistress," Mason spoke meeting her eyes. "I apologize for letting my emotions overtake my common sense."

"As you boys probably know I have been doing this for a long time and I have seen my share of scuffles. The only thing that could possess you two outstanding examples of our education system to completely fly off the handle would be,"she paused eyeing us each carefully, "a girl."

I did my best not to react, but I could see Mason flinch out of the corner of my eye. Wasn't he supposed to be the stoic one?

"Hmm I thought so," the old woman continued. "I am happy to bring her in here and have a little chat if you'd like to give me her name?"

A steady pounding was making it's self present behind my eyes. Bringing Paris into this would serve no purpose. It might make things harder for her if she changed her mind about coming to the school.

Sensing the same danger for Paris Mason spoke up first, "No that won't be necessary. She doesn't go to school here." Mason's voice seemed small and a bit shaky at the mention of Paris.

"Wonderful," she said slapping her desk with an open palm, "then I am to believe that this will be the end of our decision. Mason I will be calling and speaking to parents, personally. I need to caution you both any further violent behavior will have serious consequences. Mason I do not want to be forced to expel you during you last semester."

We both nodded at her not bothering to glance at the other and when she motioned for us to leave took off out of the office. The heavy door closing behind us. I gave the nosey secretary one of my best smiles and took off out of the building.

Just as I was about to step down the steep granite staircase a voice came up behind me, "You better tell Paisley to stay clear next time."

I turned around shocked at Mason's words, "Don't you dare threaten Paisley. She's innocent in this. What kind of man would hurt a woman?"

"I'm not threatening her," Mason growled, "I don't want her to get hurt."

"You are so sure that there will be a next time," I prodded him kind of interested in his answer.

Mason sneered at me, "You leave Paris alone. Forget she exists and no it won't happen again."

A loud laugh bubbled out of my chest. "That's not going to happen. Paris is part of my life now. Can you imagine what she would think of you if you'd have hurt Paisley."

Mason had the dignity to at least look embarrassed. "I'm warning you keep away from Paris, because next time," Mason sneered, "if I'm going be expelled I'm going make it worth it. Keep Paisley out of the way."