:: ::

Third period was sure was something. The class was filled mostly with boys, which was something new for me because it was a computer class. In my old school, we'd had equal parts of boys and girls. Apparently not here. Computer class was a "nerdy" class. Tch. Lizzy would have a fit if she heard that; she couldn't figure out how a class that taught you how to use Photoshop and how to hypothetically hack into government-protected files was "nerdy" or "dull." I was with her there. But apparently in this school, girls didn't see the potential in that.

Or maybe they had just been trying to avoid Kentin. I couldn't fault them there.

Kentin, of course, wasn't the only guy there; Nathaniel and Leigh were there and although I didn't know either of them very well, I took a seat beside them and ducked my head out of Ken's view; the guys were tall enough that I didn't have to do much maneuvering. That didn't mean they didn't notice. Leigh shook his head, amused, and Nathaniel's brows knit. "What's up?"

I dragged an animation to the corner of the webpage and edited the gaudy magenta color to a demure, light blue. The job was to edit the page and make it easier on the eyes. The thing was horrible in its gaudiness. "Oh, nothing," I murmured, sliding down farther into my chair. I wondered if Castiel was still mad at me.

Leigh rolled his eyes, but he smiled softly at me, shaking his head. "Aren't you the school president?" he asked Nathaniel sarcastically. "Shouldn't you know?"

"I only know if it has something to do with the school," the blonde said, crossing his arms for a second before changing the background on his page to something less horrifying.

I jumped. "Holy hell," I cursed, digging into my back pocket. I winced. Kentin had noticed me. Crap. He was walking over. I grimaced, pulling out my phone. It was Tobi. Then it vibrated again with a message from Lizzy. The phone read nine thirty, so I figured it was around six, maybe seven back home. Lizzy and Tobi were probably waiting for the bus right now.

Lizzy's read: y didnt u TELL me?

Tobi's said: Liz is mad

Nathaniel tsked. "No phones in school," he chastened, looking at me teasingly.

"Shut your face, Mr. President," I huffed. I gave the room a once over and pushed the phone underneath the computer desk. "He doesn't know I'm in school right now."

Can't text too much, I answered in a double text. Class prez sitting next to me.

Leigh managed to read over both our shoulders. He shook his head again; it didn't seem that he talked too much. Or maybe he did and just didn't know me. I wouldn't blame him. But he and Nathaniel still scooted a bit closer when Ken came, both having seen me shrink down in my seat. I wasn't scared of Kentin, exactly, it was just that a person who moved into a different state just to be around you was uncomfortable for anyone. At home, I didn't really mind him; I'd known him all my life. I just didn't think he'd follow me when I moved. Now that he had...well.

I appreciated that Nathaniel and Leigh noticed my discomfort. I wondered if Castiel would have, too.

"Alise! Alise!" Ken called when he finally made it to the conjoined computer desk that I was sitting at. "I knew you'd take this class!" He smiled widely, that knight-in-rusted-armor smile. I bit my lip, easing more into my chair, pretending to busy myself with the task at hand. The page was supposed to be for the school. "I didn't see you after school," he complained. "I thought you would stay to see me. I would have."

Guilt-tripping me. It usually didn't work—I usually told them exactly where to shove their guilt—but with Ken, it was different. He was ridiculed by everyone because of how he was different and weird and I knew that feeling; I didn't want to be one of those people who ridiculed him. Guilt-trips worked with him. "I was...busy," I murmured, inserting the SAH crest into a corner, replacing the idiotic animation.

Ken frowned. "Yeah," he said sadly. "I saw you with Castiel at the store."

Nathaniel rose a brow. My phone buzzed. I pressed my lips together again. "I needed something," I said, although I didn't see why I should explain myself. I unlocked my phone and stole a glance at the screen. Tobi and Lizzy both answered at the same time.

Im the prez, Lizzy complained, while Tobi said, Boy or girl?

"You could have gone to Mr. Harris's," Kentin pointed out. His voice was accusing, and that prickled something inside me.

I glared. "I could do a lot of things," I deadpanned. I didn't have to look at the screen to type my answer. So is he. Yeah, he. Ken's bugging me.

The answer was instant. So was Ken's. "You could," he pouted, and I knew he hadn't gotten the small threat underneath my tone. "Like we could go somewhere, right?"

Kentin he follwd u? was Tobi. I can thnk of a thing or 2 2 say to him. I wished he were here, so he could deal with Ken and not me. I wasn't up to him; I really wasn't. Liz said, That creep. "No," I said, "we really couldn't." I turned my attention to the computer screen, desperately hoping to end this conversation.

"But you can with Castiel, right?" Ken accused.

I bristled. "First," I started, "I ran into Castiel. Second, I was halfway across town, how did you see that? Third, Castiel didn't follow me across the country." How the hell had he seen that? I didn't like that. It brought goosebumps on my skin. I tried not to sound too mean, I really did, but I heard the words slice like knives. I heard Ken gasp, saw him pout. Through the glare of his glasses, I saw his eyes widen. It broke my heart a bit, because he wasn't a bad guy, he was just weird. His weird made me uncomfortable.

I tapped my answer to Lizzy and Tobiah: I'll tell you later. Call me when you get out of school, both of you.

Ken's voice sounded watery. "I just thought you'd like the company..." he muttered, and walked away, head slumped over.

I frowned. "That went well," I muttered, feeling a bit bad for having to do that. Rude wasn't my thing unless they were rude first. Or, I always tried to make that a rule.

It was a shock to hear Leigh's voice, smooth like velvet. "How long have you known him?" he wondered, his voice low.

I tweaked the color of clicked links and unclicked links to match the school's colors. "A long while," I told him. "He was at my old school."

"A school four hours behind the clock?" Nathaniel asked, raising an eyebrow over his golden brown eyes. When Leigh and I looked at him with stoney eyes, he blushed. "I'm the student body president; I did my homework."

I shook my head at him. "This school is four hours fast," I said, defending the place where my whole life had been. "And yeah. From there."

"He followed you here?" Nathaniel wondered, and I could see something protective in his eyes, reminding me of Tobi for a second. Tobi had dark green eyes, but the sentiment was there, which puzzled me. It didn't look as if Nathaniel was the naturally protective type. Someone like Castiel was more fit for it. I made a face, uncomfortable, and changed the brassy font. "That can't be healthy."

Leigh's velvety voice said, "Stalkers never are." His honey-toned fingers fixed the Victorian sleeve that had rumpled. It was distinctly obvious that he was metrosexual. That difference was another refreshing thing about him. He was turning out to be a cool guy to hang around; I was glad Nathaniel had introduced him to me. Leigh sighed, a soft sound, and gave me a once-over. It didn't make me uncomfortable like Castiel's did, didn't set butterflies in my stomach; he just looked at me like he was examining me. "Although, with your sense of style, I could see why you would gain a stalker or two."

A side of my mouth tilted up. "Thanks. You don't dress so bad yourself."

"I own a clothes store," he reminded me. "Of course I don't."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. He turned his attention to his screen, still horribly flashy.

I edited the way things were set up, bringing more attention to the important things like headlines about the SAH prom and stuff. "Where'd you get all your Victorian clothes?" I wondered.

Leigh grinned at the question. I wondered if this was a question he got often. "I make them. Why?"

"I sorta wanted a corset," I admitted.

Leigh clicked a few things on his computer which I couldn't see. "They ruin your womb," he informed me.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sixteen, I don't need a womb."

"How about later in life?" Leigh asked, amused.

I shrugged. "There are plenty homeless children in the world; I'm sure they wouldn't mind being adopted. Some people worried about my adversity to pregnancy. They didn't know as much about it as I did. Hyperemesis gravidarum, metal mouth, clown feet, messed up abdominal muscles, gingivitis, creepy skin changes, swollen crotches, and hairy everything all sounded swell, but I'm sure I could do without it.

Leigh laughed. He reached over Nathaniel's lap for my phone and I handed it to him, watching as he tapped something into it. "Come over to the store and I'll have you fitted. Call first so I have the tools ready," he said, handing the white iPhone back.

I grinned my thanks. "How much?" I think I had a bit saved up; I'd been wanting a corset to match my black and red tutu since I got the thing.

"Depends on the fabric and materials, and how much of it is used," Leigh said, clicking away. I took one last glance at my webpage and saved it, sending it to the teacher's computer. She'd said something about the best one becoming the school's official one. "Probably not much."

I rose a brow. "Should I be insulted?"

Leigh and Nathaniel laughed, although Nathaniel had stayed out of the conversation. "When he insults you, you'll know," the student body president said with a chuckled.

"I'll take your word for it."

:: ::

Fourth period was Advanced Algebra 2. It was two periods long, so it took up all of fourth and all of fifth. It was mind-numbing work. They were a bit ahead of my school; keeping up was difficult at first, but I caught on with help from a natural redhead named Iris. She was a cool girl, her hair in a loose braid and she had mint-green eyes. She seemed to know everything about the class, which was more than a relief. She wore an easy smile and layers: a purple tee atop a green long-sleeved shirt, furred shorts with long purple and black tights, and matching black combat boots. She wore a ribbon around her neck as a choker.

Iris was kindhearted, and it showed in her eyes when she'd asked me my name. She pronounced it "Alice," and I smiled when I corrected her. She'd pursed her lips and said it again, slowly, smiling when she got it right. Then she cracked open a textbook and waited for the teacher, Mrs. Geraldine, to start. Then she'd helped me with my work and asked me if I wanted to sit with her during lunch. I'd said yes and when class was over, she packed her stuff and waited for me with her easy smile.

I heaved my bag over my shoulder. "Where's the cafeteria?" I wondered idly. I hadn't bothered to take a tour of the school, which I regretted now, because I'd been eyeballing the directions.

Iris smiled, hefting the huge beach bag she used as a backpack. She was always smiling; I'd known her for all of eighty minutes and I learned that instantly. She put the huge red Algebra textbook into the bag and grabbed me by my elbow, leading the way. "Just this way," she said, turning a corner and heading down squared stairs. She led me to a side of the school I'd never seen, but apparently would spend the second half of my schedule in. This was the E-wing, apparent in the little black plaques atop the door-frames. Iris led me into a huge double-doored room with circular tables everywhere, decorated each with a pale blue cloth tablecloth and a ceiling light.

My brows rose in surprise. At my old school, we'd had circular tables with plastic chairs; here, the furniture was woodwork. It made me shift my weight in discomfort. But when I saw the food the kids sitting at the tables were already eating, I felt more in my element; it was regular old school-food slop: Chicken patties, rubbery macaroni and cheese, and gooey Sloppy Joe.

Iris smiled. "Macaroni!" she said enthusiastically. She led me to the line, considerably short, seeing as all the kids were already eating. She got her food and punched in a number, then waited for me to do the same. I grabbed a white plate with a decent-looking chicken patty and plucked in my old ID pin, wondering if that would work. It did, and for that I was relieved. Iris smiled again, grabbing my elbow. She safeguarded me to a table with four other girls. "Hey, ladies," she said cheerfully. "This is Alise. Ah-leese, not Alice."

I smiled, looking at the girls as Iris pointed them out.

One was darkskinned with short black hair, getting longer as it reached the front of her face, with a black hat on top. She wore a teal t-shirt with thick straps, which was probably why she didn't get caught by the dress code. A pair of black shorts covered her legs. A long bracelet made of—well, I didn't know what it was made of, just that it was skintight—rested on her left forearm. A pale orange scarf adorned her neck. She wore mismatched stockings and short black boots. Iris called her Kim. Kim had pale blue eyes.

Another girl with long dark brown hair sat next to Kim. She had wide blue eyes the color of an ocean. Her shirt, a pale sky blue, was ruffled around the hems, tight on her torso. She held a book in front of her, absentmindedly skinning a chicken patty and stuffing it into her mouth. She wore a white skirt with slit sides. A pale purple ribbon was tied around her neck like a shoelace. Her dark hair was adorned with two blue barrettes. She only looked up from her book when Iris called her name—Melody—and she gave me a single wave, like the one I usually gave, along with a smile, then looked back down.

A third girl had purple hair, cut just at her ears. It was wavy. She didn't have anything in it. Her eyes were shaped thinly and were a hard brown, they were the kind of eyes that with just one look could get any information she needed. She wore a green hoodie dress, made out of sweatsuit material. It was zip-up, and she had a white nametag with the words Editor-in-Chief: Peggy. She wore green All-Stars and had set next to her an old portable microphone. She smiled up at me and asked, "How's your first day been?"

"Good so far," I answered awkwardly.

Peggy smiled again and let Iris go on with the introductions.

The fourth girl had purple hair like Peggy's, and I wondered if they were related. Her hair was cut just above her shoulders. Her eyes were just as purple as her hair. Her cheeks were dusted with a faint pink sheen. She wore a short-sleeved gray v-neck sweater, trimmed in purple lace, with a t-shirt underneath. She had a matching skirt. Her palms were clad in fingerless gray gloves. She was sketching, and she didn't have a tray. Iris called her Violette. She looked up at me with shy violet eyes and dropped her gaze back to the sketch book.

Iris sat down and motioned for me to do the same, then dug into her cheesy slop.

I pulled my patty from its bun and ripped it into nuggets, scanning the room. It was easy to tell who was who when they were all sitting in their respective cliques. I'd said that to plenty of new kids on their way into my old school—Lizzy included. Putting that advice to practice was a different thing than giving it out. I saw Nathaniel, sitting with to a group of kids, seemingly pondering over the school's financial records—which were still shit. Leigh sat with the group, looking out of his element and mismatched. I felt bad for him; I was sure he wanted to go back to his store, but wanted more to get that degree. I don't know why he didn't go to an adult school, despite that he was still young enough to attend high school.

Across the student body council, Amber's group sat with an annoyed-looking Castiel and a silver-haired boy with heterochromia who dressed in Victorian-era clothing just like Leigh. If I looked closely enough, I could almost nitpick a resemblance, but I was sure it was just a trick of the fluorescent lighting. Amber was fawning over Castiel. I gritted my teeth together, chewing my food more thoroughly than I needed to. I knew I shouldn't; I had no right to be jealous, especially when I was angry with him and had only met him two days ago.

But I bristled and turned away to scan the rest of the room.

Next to the Castiel-heterochromia-Amber group, the obvious jocks sat, all wide shoulders and loud voices. They weren't wearing their uniforms, but they might as well have been. I could easily picture the ones with the broad shoulders playing football. There were tall ones, basketball players I pictured. I thought of Tobi playing with Dad, bouncing around the orange ball in shorts way too baggy for either of them. It made me giggle, but it was cut off when I thought of my dad.

Dad—tall, lean Dad with purple eyes to match mine. Dad playing ball with Tobi and George, laughing when I gagged and complained about all the testosterone in the driveway. Dad teaching me a new song. Dad singing to me on my birthday. Dad teaching me how to drive a jet-ski. Dad doing the bills. Dad going to the store to get me hot chocolate from Wawa because Mom wasn't home and he had no idea where the cocoa was. Dad holding me when I cried. Dad being Dad.

My throat tightened. I felt the back of my eyes prickle with tears. I wanted my daddy. Right now. To hold me and hug me and tell me everything was going to be okay, because that's the type of thing dads did, the type of thing my dad did. I swallowed. "I—I'm going to the bathroom," I stuttered. Never mind that I didn't know where the bathroom was; I just wanted to be alone. The chair made a screek that hurt my ears, but I didn't care. I stormed out. I could feel myself shaking, quaking, shivering. Falling apart.

I stormed into the nearest empty class room, curling into a corner. The first time I'd felt myself falling apart, ripping with grief, it'd been at the lunch table with Tobi. Lizzy had been absent that day. I hadn't even said bye or where I was going; Tobi had followed me, like the good cousin he was. I sobbed like the little girl I was, but I hadn't cried. Just like yesterday night.

Now I was alone, without Tobi or even Sarah. I felt the sharp edges of my nails digging into my collarbone as I hugged myself. I sobbed, loud, uncontrollable, dry sobs; I was shaking as if there was an earthquake inside me. I half-expected Dad to come in and say it was all a cruel joke. When the door opened, I wanted to look up to see Dad. But it wasn't Dad standing in the doorway; it was Nathaniel, followed by Castiel.

I hid my face and tried calming my sobs. It didn't help, just left me more out of air.

Someone grabbed hold of me. Alarm and panic took over and I curled in farther into my corner. I knew it was Nathaniel holding me; his fingers were soft and unhardened. I wanted them to go away, both of them. I didn't even know why they were here. But I couldn't tell them to get lost, because I couldn't breath and I was gasping for air and sobbing at the same time. I was shaking too hard to do much of anything, even move away, though I did try.

I wanted my daddy.

That was the single most childish thing I could have ever thought, but it was true. I wanted my daddy and my mommy.

"Alise," Nathaniel called my name. My mind was spinning from lack of air. He smoothed back my hair, which had fallen to my face, disheveled with my shaking. "What's wrong, Alise?"

I was quivering too hard to notice when my phone vibrated, or when Castiel leaned down to pick it up; it had fallen when I ran inside.

Oh gods. I felt sick. I wanted my daddy. Why wasn't he here? Why wasn't Mom here? Why the hell had they gone out that day? I couldn't even remember. Why hadn't I gone with them? Why hadn't it been me? I wanted my parents, so, so bad. But I'd never see them again. I'd never see my Mom in the morning with her messy bedhead and hellion breath. I'd never see Dad at night in his duckling pajama pants with crust in his eyes. I'd never climb into their bed again to watch TV on a late night Friday.

Distantly, I heard Castiel say something, but I couldn't figure out if it was to me, Nathaniel, or into my phone. I sobbed. Castiel knelt down next to me, tugging me slightly from Nathaniel's hold into his own and shoving the cold plastic of my phone to my ear. "Sealie, Sealie," the voice on the phone said. My answer was a sob. Castiel tucked a strand of hair behind my free ear and Nathaniel rubbed my shoulders. "Sealie, it'll be alright, okay? It will. You know it will."

Where I got the air to answer, let alone the brain-power, I'd never know. "No, I don't," I cried. My voice cracked on the last word. "I don't know, and it won't." I registered, absentmindedly, Nathaniel's soft fingers drifting over my forehead.

"Okay," Tobi said. I could hear the pain in his voice. I wanted him here, just like I wanted Mom and Dad back. "You don't know. I do, Sealie, okay. Everything will be okay. Just calm down."

I sobbed, loud and uncontrolled. Dry tears pricked like acupuncture needles at the back of my eyes. "How can anything be okay?" I shouted, and I suddenly didn't care if anyone heard me. I just wanted to be reassured; I wanted someone to reason with me, even with my shouting my anger out. "My parents are dead, Tobi, dead. How can anything, ever, be okay?"

I felt Nathaniel shake next to me. Castiel's hands felt sturdy on my forehead; he smoothed my hair under his callused fingers. He moved closer, and I shrank. My dad used to do that, move closer when I was upset.

Tobi hesitated. "I—" Tobi paused. "Sealie, I don't know how," he admitted, "but they will. They always do." It struck me that he shouldn't be dealing with me; I should be dealing with myself. He's at school, probably in a bathroom, trying to calm me the hell down. This was a parent's job, not his. He should be in first period or something.

I didn't bother to ask when "always" was. I just grabbed the phone in an iron tight grip and sobbed, gasped, fell apart.

"You should have stayed home, Sealie," Tobi sighed. I heard him swallow as I shivered. Castiel took off his jacket and placed it on my shoulders, but it was cold on my skin. "Mom and Dad would have taken good care of you, you could have stayed here. I'd have slept on the sofa, I wouldn't mind."

He was talking to himself now; worry did that to him, whether it was worry about me or his parents or anyone else.

My sobs were getting less nerve racking. I could almost control them now. I could breathe. So I did just that—breathed, because I was missing oxygen so much. My sobs were lower now.

"Sealie," Tobi called, and I could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm going to try to visit soon, okay? I can skip the last week of school, Mom and Dad don't care. Just... Try to keep calm, okay, Sealie? For my sanity and Lizzy's?"

I licked my lips; they'd gone dry. Castiel's jacket got warmer around my shoulders; the softness of Nathaniel's fingers as he tried rubbing warmth into me; the feeling of Castiel's rough hands smoothing my hair over, awkwardly trying to calm me. "Lizzy's?" They didn't have the same schedules.

"Castiel told me you were freaking and I went to Lizzy's Honors class and told them the office needed the student body president," Tobi admitted. "Liz scared the shit and piss out of all the guys in the bathroom and chased them out with her... Would Liz-ness be the right word?"

I snorted, snuggling deeper into the jacket. "That's what I've always called it." I swallowed, feeling my lip quiver. "Go to class."

"You too," he said, and the phone beeped.

The real word crashed down me, along with the attentions of both Castiel and Nathaniel. It was Castiel to crash down on me. "Does this happen often?" he demanded. His gray-brown eyes were boring into mine, baring my soul like he'd been able to do since I met him.

I bit my lip. "Only recently," I answered. I was still shaking. I lowered my gaze, trying not to see the pity that would be in both their eyes. I hated pity; I didn't want it from either of them, especially since I was mad at one of them and he was mad with me. I felt like yawning, but I got up and fixed the black ringlets of my hair to a controlled state. My teeth chattered.

"How recently is recently?" It was Nathaniel's turn to ask.

"Since my parents died, okay?" I snapped at him. I crossed my arms, glaring at him. The warmth of the leather jacket was comforting, and I grabbed onto the two halves of the zipper, holding the jacket together but making it obvious that if Castiel wanted it back, he could have it. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Nathaniel frowned. "I'm sorry."

"So is everyone else," I barked. Nathaniel was still on the floor, looking up at me with pitying wide eyes. I was shaking again, with cold and anger. I was so cold. I should have brought my own jacket. I was glad I was at least wearing tights. I walked out the room, quivering.

Castiel stopped me, a large warm hand on my wrist. "Hey," he said in his deep, warm voice. It made me want to cry. My eyes hurt with tears that refused to be shed. I stopped, crossing my arms underneath his jacket. I was going to yell at him—for something, anything—but there was no pity in his endless gray eyes. There was another emotion, unreadable. Butterflies crowded my stomach but I ignored them. Something in the sharp lines of his face looked soft. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed. "As fine as I'll ever be."

Castiel's gray-brown eyes searched me, making the butterflies turn into stinging bees. "Do you want to go home?"

"Yes," I admitted.

Castiel looked at me again, searching for my eyes but not finding them because I wouldn't meet his eyes. "Will you go home?" he asked me.

"No."

I could hear him let out a ghost of a breath, the reminder of a chuckle. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Castiel reached out to zip up the jacket around me, closing the warmth around me. "There are ten minutes left in lunch," he said, "and we could get your stuff later. Would you like to talk about other things?"

I almost smiled. "You don't."

"No, I don't," the redhead told me. The way he said it made me think that he really didn't care what he wanted at the moment. "But you do."

The jacket was big around me; I didn't have to do much maneuvering to put my arms through the sleeves. It was huge around me; I had to roll the sleeves up in order to see my hands. The warmth made me feel good, although my teeth were still chattering a bit. "Okay," I murmured. Castiel put his hand on the small of my back and led me around the E-wing of the school. "How'd you know to call Tobi?"

"I didn't," he answered. "He texted. When you didn't answer, he called." I could feel the warmth of his large hand through his thick leather jacket. It was a comfort. "I answered and told him you were busy; I'm guessing he heard you sobbing." My face burned red. "Then he told me to hand the phone to you." There was a moment of silence in which the warmth of him and his jacket were the only important things. "Who is he, anyway? Did you leave a boyfriend back home only to start rubbing up on me?"

I chuckled. It was a low, breathless sound. "Tobi's my cousin," I told him. It was technically a lie, but it didn't feel like one. "And I haven't been rubbing up on you. I stomped on your cigarettes this morning."

"The end result is the same," Castiel said.

I rose an eyebrow. "So either way, you want my bod," I teased.

"Can't resist a damsel in distress."

"Fuck you, redhead," I huffed.

Castiel ruffled his own hair, exposing black roots. "It isn't natural, remember?"

I rolled my eyes. Castiel made me turn another corner. "Why'd you come after me?" I asked him, because I really was curious. I'd stayed calm and collected until I'd gotten to that empty classroom. I knew I had. There hadn't been any reason to follow me.

"Nathaniel followed you," he said, in a way that made it clear he was loath to say the blonde's name. "I...was curious."

"Curious?" I rolled my eyes. "Jealous."

Castiel rolled his eyes too. "I've known you for two days. I don't get jealous over someone I've known for less than a week. I don't get jealous."

I smiled ruefully. "Yeah, it should work that way, shouldn't it?" I murmured, thinking of the butterflies running rampant in my stomach and the anger that had coursed through my veins when I saw Amber sitting with him. "This day has been eventful."

"It isn't even over."

"Don't remind me," I groaned. "Why aren't you mad at me anymore? You seem like the type to hold a grudge."

Castiel turned a corner again, making this the third so far. "I usually am," he said. He didn't say anything else for a while, and the hallway was long. "But...you were shaking. Like an earthquake."

"You also don't seem like the type to worry."

Castiel sounded remorseful when he said the next six words. "You make me bend the rules," he murmured. He didn't sound happy about it; I understood the feeling—the feeling of moving too fast, too soon.

I smiled. "You were nice to me, so now I'm going to be nice to you," I said, grinning. I pressed my hand to my heart. "I solemnly swear upon all that is good that I will make you quit, one way or another."

"Quit?"

"Smoking."

"That again?"

I shrugged. "It's bad for you." I smelled the collar of the jacket for a second longer than I should. "I'm just glad it hasn't stuck to your jacket." We turned a corner and I realized we'd come full circle. I sighed, unzipping the jacket. "I... Thanks, Castiel."

He offered me a smirk and took the jacket from me. I swung the door open and walked back inside the cafeteria to Iris and her friends.

"What happened?" Peggy asked, true to the reporter displayed on her outside. She rose a perfectly arched brow, mild curiosity on her expression.

"Nothing," I lied. I took my seat and stuffed my face with the remainder of my chicken patty. "Just went to the bathroom."

Kim scanned the room. "Mr. Prez and object of his sister's favorite attentions left right after you," she informed me. "Both looked worried."

Iris smiled at me. "Maybe they got worried about you," she said. I pressed my lips together, trying not to let on how right she was.

Kim snorted. "Like those two don't hate each other enough already."

My brows knitted together, my eyes darting to where Nathaniel sat dejectedly with his school council. "They hate each other?" It hadn't seemed like it; they seemed to work well together when they were trying to put me back together again.

Melody looked at me, a bit shocked. Violette turned a page in her sketchbook and eyed me, then started again. Peggy said, "Like water and oil."

I took another bite and swallowed. "Why?"

Peggy snorted. "Don't ask me."

Kim supplied the answer. "Rumor is they used to be best friends," she whispered, as if they would somehow hear her. "Then they had a fallout sometime in middle school. No one knows why."

I pursed my lips. "Huh."

:: ::

Seventh period was Honors History. This class was a little behind my old class; they were just starting an essay I had done more than two weeks ago. I wondered if I had to do it, seeing as all my grades had been handed over to this new teacher, Miss Vega. I sat back while she explained the work and the essay, going slower for what I would guess was my benefit. Maybe my transcript hadn't been handed over just yet. I'd have to ask the principle; there was no way in hell I'd ask Nathaniel. I didn't want to see the pitying look in his eyes.

Would he tell? I wondered if the teachers knew. I hadn't caught any pity in their eyes; if they did know, then I would have to thank them later for that. If they didn't, I might as well keep it that way.

I pressed my lips together and chewed on the end of my pen. It was a while before Miss Vega had completely explained the work; she retreated to her desk. I walked over to her, hands in my pockets, shifting my weight.

Miss Vega was older than you would think someone with the title "miss" would be, around her forties. She was chunky and had short, thin brown hair with matching brown eyes. She was tall, too, but everyone was tall to me. Throughout the whole period, as she explained the assignment, she had bantered with the students, calling herself the Queen of Room E13. She'd flicked them when they were stupid and teased them when she caught them talking between themselves instead of paying attention to her; she seemed like a nice lady.

Miss Vega looked up at me before I had even opened my mouth. She had kind brown eyes. "What can I do for you, Miss Sanders?" she asked.

I scratched the back of my neck. "I kinda...already did this essay," I told her, "so I was wondering if I'd have to do it again, or if you had the grade for it already, or if I could just hand you the essay I already wrote."

She tapped something in her old laptop—it was an old Dell, from when laptops were just coming out—and looked up at me with a smile. "You got a ninety-five," she said. My old history teacher was a tough grader, so that ninety-five was as close to a hundred as it could get with him; I was very proud of it. I tried not to think of the person who had helped me get it. "No, you don't have to do it again, but I don't know what you'll do for the next three weeks; the essay's all I had planned."

I scanned the room; it was a cluttered mess. "I could help around here, collect papers, dust a bit," I offered. Miss Vega laughed. "And if you don't want that, I could help out at the library or music room."

"Sounds like a plan," Miss Vega said, smiling. "You could start now by helping me organize my desk." She motioned to the cluttered mess that was on top of her desk. "I am not an organized person."

I smiled. "Organization is for those too lazy to look for their things," I quoted Tobi.

Miss Vega snapped her fingers. "I like the way you think, Sanders."

I grinned. She seemed like a cool lady.

:: ::

Science was easy enough; it was a lab about sulfur that I had done already, too. Iris had the class with me; she'd called me as her partner and eagerly dug herself into the work. The lab had taken all of the class.

The last period was worth looking forward to; it was art class. I'd been torn between this one and music class, but my dad had reminded me that if I wanted a music lesson, all I would have to do is stop by the study, so I'd taken art. They were starting a new project today, so I'd gotten lucky. The teacher had assigned us paint types—watercolor, acrylic, and oil—and told us to paint whatever our hearts desired. I'd gotten lucky; she'd given me acrylic. It was no wonder the school was flat broke when you realized that this art room had state-of-the-art canvases for each of its students.

Iris wasn't in this class, but Violette was, and she looked completely in her element as she started to sketch out an acrylic-rendition of Michelangelo's Saint Anthony. She looked completely serene as she drew out the baby Saint Anthony was holding. It was calming to watch her at work, but I didn't; instead I started sketching out my own painting before painting it. It was supposed to be a woman's profile, bloody red tears spilling from her eyes, but I couldn't get the chin just right. I was so intent on it that I hadn't noticed that Amber had walked over next to my easel, followed by her itty bitty posse. She slapped the pencil out of my hand, making it fall across the classroom.

"Hey!" I complained, looking up to see that Amber's taller frame was standing next to me. It must really please her that she was seven inches taller than I was. "What was that for?"

"Like I need a reason, small fry," she snapped. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes shinning with pure fury. I wondered what she thought she could do to me. "I don't know what you did to my brother, but I'm going to make goddamn sure you pay for it," she growled at me. I wondered what she thought I did to her brother. I felt the tinge of guilt when I realized that he'd done me so many favors in just this one day, but that I yelled at him for pitying me.

I should apologize. It wasn't his fault, just human nature's. I tried reasoning with my feelings, but they stayed unshakeable.

I rolled my violet eyes at the blonde. "Good luck, sweet thing," I said sarcastically.

I saw the little Chinese girl twitch. The brunette glared at me. Did they even have permission to talk? I grabbed a pencil from my backpack and reshaped my drawing's chin. There. Amber shook with anger. "And stay away from Castiel," she snarled. She sounded like a Chihuahua, small and nonthreatening, trying it's goddamn best to scare you shitless, but only making you laugh at the weird way it's bark was pitched.

I laughed. "I'll be friends with whoever I want to be friends with," I said nonchalantly. The painting's face was drawn, wide and crying; I moved to the hair. "Hey, Chihuahua," I called Amber, "do you know his favorite song?"

Amber scoffed. "Why would I tell you?" she retorted, wrinkling her nose. "He doesn't even like you."

I shrugged. It seemed as if she didn't know. I did. I've been finding things out about people without even asking for the entirety of my life, and Practice Makes Perfect, after all. I gave my drawing curled hair. I didn't turn to see Amber stomp her foot and storm away with her little crew.

:: ::

Leigh stopped me on my way home. All he did was say my name and look at me with huge, dark, innocent eyes. I melted like butter under that puppy-dog gaze. I was a master at it; having it used against me was uncomfortable, especially since he was so much better at it than I was. "Nathaniel says he's sorry," Leigh announced. "He says he also doesn't know what he did."

I felt bad that he had no idea why I was so pissed at him. I adjusted my bag on my back. "Tell him that he doesn't need to pity me, and that if he's going to apologize for something he doesn't know that he did, that I'd rather he came himself, so I could explain it to him," I told him. Then I smiled, a little thing to soften the mean edges of my face. "I'll come sometime this week, okay?"

"Call first," Leigh reminded me, smiling ruefully.

I turned and gave him my single over-the-shoulder wave. "Sure thing, fashionista."

:: ::

All the girls who are friends with Iris are not mine; they are each one of the fivewinners of the contest "Create a character—EXTRA—until 31 March 2011." You can see them all in the mycandylove wikia. The fifth girl will be introduced later on today. I might show you the painting that Alise is doing if you all review really, really hard because it does exist; my mommy painted it—not me (she says bitterly).

I'd also like for you to review any of the parings that you might like throughout the story's ongoings. AlisexCastiel, AlisexNathaniel, AlisexLeigh, AlisexKentin, AlisexJade, AlisexDajan, AlisexDakota...whatever. I just want to see what you guys think. (Please, please tell me.) Oh, and if it wasn't obvious, Aunt Sarah is the mycandylove "fairy godmother."