"What the fuck was that about?"

Ben had caught Em on her way to the girl's bathroom, to have a smoke. She held her ground easily, as always. "I don't know what you're talking about."

His mouth fell open. Was she really doing this to him? Why was she doing this to him? It didn't make any sense. It seemed to him that there were a million faces to Em Andrews and he'd only seen three. God knows how many there really were.

It scared him, and intruiged him at the same time. And it irritated him to no end.

"You know what I'm talking about," Ben said, hurt heavy in his voice.

Em stared at him with eyes as cold as ice. "I was upset. You hugged me and I hugg-"

"You kissed me!" he shouted quietly, eyes wide. "You kissed me, Em. And I kissed back. And I held you while you cried. Does that ring a bell?"

"I wasn't crying... And I didn't kiss you," Em murmured. Her plan was unravelling, and fast. In the back of her mind she was scolding herself for coming to school today. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ben took a deep, irritated breath and ran a hand through his mussed curls. "...I don't get it! I... You don't let anyone in, do you?" He moved towards her. She moved back. "You don't let anyone know what's going on in that head of yours, don't tell anyone about yourself. But I wish you would. I really, really wish you would. Because I want to help. I don't know what's going on but there's something you're hiding, isn't there?"

Em took another step back, boots scuffing the floor. "If I'm hiding something do you really think I'd tell you?" was her effortless reply in her honey sweet tongue laced with poison.

"...Please, Em. Please, just... Talk to me. Please."

"Why should I?"

"I- I can't give you a good reason, honestly. But when you feel like talking? You know where to find me."

Em watched Ben walk away, watched his easy stride. She wanted to tell herself she didn't care. That she didn't care about the boy who had scrambled into her life and was now walking out of it at the drop of a hat.

Why did she care?

With a heavy silence she slipped into the girl's bathroom and climbed up into the little nook by the windowsill, fumbling with her pack of cigarettes. Finally she plucked one from the carton and lit it, inhaling the smoke like it was pure oxygen.

You don't love him. You don't even like him. Love isn't real. Don't forget that.

Em's thoughts were replaced by her father's harsh words.

You're mine. All mine, you filthy slut. You don't belong to anyone but me. You don't belong to yourself. No one else can have you.

Groaning, she closed her eyes and stretched out her legs a little. There wasn't much space in the little nook but it was something. It was enough, anyways. Em needed somewhere to hide. She needed to feel like she was completely cut off from the rest of the world. Cut off from everyone. It was days like these when she wished her life wasn't such a mess.

Tonight, she had a plan. She needed to blow off steam in the worst way. Tonight she'd take her anger out on a demon, or some pissed off spirit. Maybe what she needed was a quick salt and burn, to take the edge off of things.

Granted it might be difficult to sneak out of the house because dad was having company over, but usually when there was company Em was instructed to either stay in her room and keep out of the way, or to take out all her peircings, put on a nice dress and act like the model little girl.

Lately, he'd been opting to keep her out of sight.

Excellent, Em thought. After ashing out her cigarette she jumped down and winced at the sudden weight on her injured right leg. That didn't matter. She was going hunting.

Anything to take her mind off of Ben fucking Braeden.