Thank you Lynette McGregor and Tweetz1 for your reviews! This is my first whole chapter from Kellans' POV. Hope you enjoy it!

Kellan

Oh god. I need to look at her.

No, I shouldn't.

But it's my fault. I knew this would happen; they do it every year.

No one else stops them, they just turn a blind eye.

But what if she's injured?

I already know the answer to that question

Is she okay?

Who cares? Certainly not me. Because she means nothing to me. God why am I having arguments with myself? This is what she does to me, I don't even know her and she's making my head explode. I have to look, this is eating me up. Just a quick look, no harm will be done. She won't know. She wouldn't care anyway. Why would she? I mean nothing to her. Just like she means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing. So what's to stop me looking? Everyone else is. Just one quick look...

Oh crap! She is staring straight at me. What did they do to her? Her face is all swollen and red, and there's a deep wound on the side of her temple. Her white skin is covered in dried blood and any area that isn't, has bruises. Half of her face is swollen, pulling her mouth into a permanent half-smile. She looks a mess; they must have really taken it out on her. The thought made my hands curl into balls on the table, my short, sharp nails digging into the skin of my palm, but I don't know why. Odd expressions cross her face; embarrassment, hurt, pain and something else that I can't work out. She's still looking at me, and I'm staring straight back at her. Well, she's not exactly looking; since one of her eyes is completely closed by the rapid swelling on her face, and the other is too filled with tears to possibly see through.

Paul is looking at me with a strange expression on his face, which I catch out of the corner of my eye. Obviously I am not the only one to realise that the sudden centre of attention is staring at me. I try to turn my attention to Paul, to give a quick shrug and laugh it off, but my head stays transfixed on this girl standing twenty yards away. I can't even move my eyes to watch Pauls' face as she starts to move towards the table she was sitting at before. She sits down a couple of seats away from anyone else, an obvious gesture saying that she wants to be left alone. That seems to suit her table fine as the other four noughts continue to face each other, not looking at the girl who was supposed to be their friend. They are all just glad that they weren't the ones to be targeted. The girl doesn't seem to notice as everyone else's eyes drift away, back to their tables and their friends. The slow humming of conversations return, but I don't think she notices. She watches me as I watch her, hypnotised by each others eyes.

Why won't she look away? Why can't I? My head suddenly seems stuck in place. The pain in her face makes me feel such tremendous shame. I knew what was going to happen. Why didn't I stop them? Because it isn't my responsibility. So why do I feel guilt? The answer is I don't. I don't care about her, I don't want to help her, and I don't care if they continue to beat her up, because it isn't my problem. A single glittering tear spilled over from her eye and slid down her porcelain cheek. That was too much, I looked away.