Sorry for the delay :) Finally getting back into it! Hopefully…

Monday brought about a whole new wave of insecurities for James. As he picked up his newly packed backpack and ate the last bite of his undercooked toast, he felt a slight wave of nausea roll over him as he set off for school. Brooke was taking Bobby to the local middle school, James insisting he would be fine going to and from school alone. He was regretting that decision just a little bit, but at the same time, it was a relief to breathe in the fresh air and deal with these troubling thoughts alone. The one thing that kept him a little calmer, the one thing that kept his mind focused on his goal, was that he might see Kendall again. That intriguing, mysterious blond was in his school like he'd said, he was bound to see him at some point. As for why that made him feel better, he wasn't quite sure. Perhaps it was the thought of a familiar face; a comfort to anyone in a new environment.

The school was surprisingly large, stretched out over a paved yard, dotted with little enclosed squares of short trimmed grass and small trees. As he walked down the main pathway towards the front doors, he observed students dotted here and there outside the doors, some chatting in groups, sitting in tight circles, a few reading or listening to music alone, glancing up now and then as though waiting for someone. Alone just like they were, he walked inside the school, and on the way to the front office, he kept his eyes peeled just like they did. Knocking on the front door, he walked in and was greeted by a kindly woman with short plump legs and blonde hair tied in a bun atop her head. She handed him his locker number and timetable and sent him off on his way, wishing him good luck as he left the office.

Walking down the hallway and searching for his locker, he was then suddenly greeted by a familiar and wonderful sight; Kendall strolling down the hallway, grey sweatshirt loosely hanging off his shoulders, a carefree little smile on his face. As he walked, James could see heads turning, one or two students leaning closer to whisper in their friends' ears. He had no idea if this was because of Kendall's strange episode the previous week, or if he was just always an eye-catching sight. Maybe a bit of both?

He wanted to call out and wave to him, but just as he was going to, Kendall's gaze caught him and he himself waved, smiling wide and picking up his pace to walk to him. James' hello caught in his throat and he dropped his hand a little numbly, only managing to grin when Kendall reached him and greeted, "Hey, James! I've been looking out for you."

"I see you've got your locker number," Kendall continued, glancing at the paper in James' hand. "That's just around the corner, wanna walk there together?"

"Sure, that sounds good," James replied at last, feeling a great weight lift from his shoulders. The two headed off down the hallway, James now feeling a few eyes turn to land on him; he couldn't blame them, really. He was guilty of the same thing; any time a new student had arrived at his old school, he would stare just like they were now, overcome with blatant curiosity.

"Here we are," Kendall announced and tapped the locker with the palm of his hand. "I'm down the hall, just past the window. Are you nervous for your classes?"

"A little bit," James admitted with a small sigh. He glanced down at his timetable. "My first class is chemistry . . . that's the one with the teacher who yells a lot, right?"

"Yeah, Mr Rocque. Can I see that?" James handed it over and watched Kendall scan the list of classes. "Hmm . . . well, looks like you and I have home ec together after lunch. And English too. I know a couple of people in your classes, Lucy and I do music together, she's in your history class I think . . . and her boyfriend Jett is in chemistry, he's a bit weird but he's nice enough. Camille and Mercedes should be in Spanish with you, they'll probably recognise you—" The bell then rang out, sudden and strident, causing the two boys to wince slightly. "Well, good luck," Kendall finished, handing him back his timetable. "Keep an eye out for them, okay? It won't all be total strangers."

"Thank you," James replied with a smile, glancing briefly at his timetable to get the room number of his first class. "I'll see you later?"

"Sure, see you! Good luck!" Kendall headed off in the opposite direction back around the corner, and James headed what he trusted was the right way to Mr Rocque's chemistry lab.

He opened the door and stepped in, glancing briefly around the room. The teacher hadn't arrived yet and the class were still chatting amongst themselves. James looked around for an empty seat, spotting one with a sigh of relief closer to the front, the other seat at the desk occupied by a boy with his nose stuck in a book. He wore a beanie hat over the back of his head, hair gelled up at the front, skin milky pale as he frowned to himself in concentration. James figured there were two options; one was that somebody normally did sit next to this boy, and he was, as the alien new boy, about to take their seat. The other option was that he was sitting alone; he could take a seat there and make himself at home. He figured that either way, it was time to make a move.

Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the desk and said, "Hey. Is this free?"

The boy looked up, placing his book flat on the table. "Yeah, take it," he replied with a crooked smile, flashing pearly white teeth. "I don't mind. What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm just . . . waiting to start class, I guess. I heard this teacher is tough."

"He is, but you'll get over it. So what's your name?"

"James, James Diamond. And yours?"

"Logan, Logan Mitchell," he retorted with a grin. "Nice to meet you."

"You too . . . I remember, you're the sheriff's son! Right? I met him the other day, he mentioned we'd be in the same grade."

"Yeah, that's my dad. When did you meet him?" Logan picked up a half crumpled receipt and slotted it in as a makeshift bookmark, closing his book and dropping it into his backpack.

"He came to our house on Saturday, we found Kendall Knight in our backyard . . . it was an interesting welcome to the town to say the east."

"Ah, Kendall. Well that's typical, always the centre of attention." Logan glanced at his fingernails and added, dismissively, "I wouldn't pay too much attention."

"Oh . . . alright," James said uncertainly, turning to face the front again as a large bearded man with a bald head strode into the room, stack of papers under his arm. He slammed them down onto the desk and said in a loud, clear voice, "Class. Please pass up your weekend assignments to the front, and I'll pass out these new ones. Open your textbooks to page 192. Come on!"

The room filled with the soft shuffling of papers as the class did as he asked without a word. James opened his book like the rest of them and looked up, startled to see Mr Rocque standing so close to his desk. "You're the new student," he said stoutly by way of greeting, opening up his roll book and clicking his pen sharply. He poised to write. "Name?"

"James Diamond, sir," James said, watching Mr Rocque jotting his name down. He also saw, thought for a moment he thought he might have imagined it – the man's brow furrowing, his jaw clenching slightly as he nodded gruffly, stepped away from his desk and turned towards the class, calling the roll out with almost no space in between for students to announce their presence. Sighing a little and turning his eyes down to his textbook, he waited for the class to properly begin.

Until lunch, the rest of James' classes were easy; fine to handle. He didn't have any more with Logan, and didn't see anyone else that Kendall had mentioned, but he coped alone and focused on catching up with what the other students had been doing. Once lunchtime came around, however, he knew it would be a frightening hour. It was for anyone; having nobody to sit with was everyone's greatest social fear. As he queued up in the cafeteria to buy his lunch, he scanned the room intently for someone he could sit with, even a stranger with a free seat. It was then that he spotted Kendall sitting at a large table right in the middle of the room. He sat with his arms folded casually on the table, leaning forward slightly as he listened to something that Camille and Mercedes were talking about. He and his friends all shared the same level of charm and beauty; he could see immediately what table they were sitting at. They were the famed 'popular kids' that every school seemed to have, a group that James himself had never been part of, but had never minded. This was the first time that he longed to sit with them, but not for the reasons most people had, he imagined. Sighing a little to himself and knowing that he and Kendall were simply in entirely different leagues, he spotted Logan reading at a small table and walked over to sit with him. "Hi, Logan," he greeted a little more shyly than he expected, sliding into the seat. "Mind if I sit here?"

"Sure, that's fine. How was your morning?" Logan asked, politely closing his book again and putting it away. "And I know what you're thinking - I don't normally sit by myself. My friend Carlos is on lunchtime detention today for knocking down a desk covered in beakers. So tell me about your classes!"

And James did, happily so. Towards the end of lunch, as Logan bade him goodbye and went off to his locker, James decided to do the same and was just walking down the corridor when a noticeboard covered in flyers and papers caught his eye. It was a whole gathering of adverts for the different clubs the school had; sports, art clubs, chess clubs, everything. He glanced down the list and spotted something interesting; an ice hockey team. Practices were on Mondays and Thursdays after school. Anyone welcome to try, skates on loan for first practice. Hmm. James jotted the time down on his phone and moved on to go to his locker. Another thing to do in this new town; not bad for a first day.

His next class was home ec; he immediately spotted Kendall at a desk closer to the front; he waved at him as he walked in and grinned, sending a little flutter through James' stomach. However, sadly this was a class with partner desks, and so James was put with the only single person in the class; a bouncy blonde named Jenny Tinkler. He noticed the sympathetic glances people gave him as he sat down. He didn't understand why until they were making bolognaise for their day's assignment and she knocked the saucepan of meat sauce onto the floor, in the process brushing a dishcloth over the stove ring and setting it on fire.

It's a miracle she didn't kill me, James thought grumpily to himself as he made his way towards the ice rink after the last class had ended. In the locker room, a teammate assigned as a greeter handed him skates and a jersey to wear, before giving him some protective gear and a hockey stick and sending him out onto the rink. Logan was the first person he saw; despite his small and stout appearance, he was swift and light-footed on the ice. He skated over and greeted James with a hi five and a grin. He was followed closely behind by an equally small Latino boy whose smiled reminded James a lot of a puppy. He was sweet.

"This is my friend Carlos," Logan greeted, pointing to the hyperactive boy tying his skate back up. "Carlos, this is James, he's new!"

"Hello!" Carlos chirped, straightening back up with a little bounce and waving, helmet straps flapping loosely against his cheeks. "Nice to meet you! You play hockey?"

"I've played a little bit, but only in my spare time, my school didn't have a team," James explained. "I'd like to get better and I figured this was a great chance, what with hockey being so big here. Plus I'd meet new people, which is always a plus . . ."

"Oh, definitely! Here, I'll introduce you to the team!" Carlos turned on his heel in a swift, smooth motion and skated across the ice to the group of boys standing and talking loudly. "Hey guys!" he greeted, skidding to a stop. "This is James, he's just started here. Introduce yourselves! Let's start with our co-captains, Beau and Jett." He pointed; interestingly, despite being the two captains, which should've have brought them a little closer together, the two were standing about as far apart as they could. Beau was a tall, built and admittedly handsome guy with dark hair and a wide, winning smile. Jett was shorter and a little stockier, with sandy coloured hair gelled up and glistening blue eyes. He smiled too; and while there was definitely a touch of arrogance to his smile, there was also a touch of genuine friendliness, and it comforted him. He also recognised his name; he had to be Lucy's boyfriend, the guy Kendall had mentioned. The rest of the team introduced themselves and Beau tapped his hockey stick briskly on the side of his skate.

"Come on, let's get moving!" he commanded. "We've got practice so let's, you know, practice."

"Let's start with some drills," Jett cut in, glaring at Beau. "Get into groups of four."

They worked for the hour on team building drills and long exercises skating across the rink, playing a little practice game at the end. As the practice drew to a close, the boys skated towards the exit to the rink, clambering out and throwing themselves on the benches, unlacing their skates and kicking them off. Carlos kicked so hard one of his flew off and hit the barrier with a loud clang, making James jump. "Watch it, small fry," Jett chuckled, grabbing Carlos by the helmet and shaking his head. Carlos laughed and batted his hand away before jumping up to pick up his skates.

"Hey, James," Jett announced as he passed him, "Carlos is coming to mine after practice for some pizza, you wanna come along?"

"Oh, uh . . . sure," James replied, smiling. His first invitation, extended by a friend maybe? "That sounds great."

"Great, get changed and meet us outside." Jett slapped his back and strutted off into the locker room. James followed close behind, determined to play it cool for the rest of the evening. But he couldn't wait to tell his mother that he'd made not one, but three friends, and all on his first day too. It was impressive, especially for a Diamond. They may have been charming, but when it came to establishing actual friendships, they weren't so great. They often lacked that essential warmth.

James left the ice rink and stepped out into the parking lot, spotting Jett and Carlos standing together and talking by a car that he deemed, as he drew closer, was too shiny to belong to bubbly, careless Carlos. And he saw that they weren't alone; there was a girl with them, her arm around Jett's waist; she was skinny, clothed in a leather jacket with red streaked hair tied up in a bun. It didn't take a genius to guess that she must have been Lucy from Kendall's music class. Logan was there too, making him feel much more at ease. So he walked over and greeted with a cheery wave, "Hey, guys!"

"Hey, you're here. Great." Jett grinned. "Let's go then?" He opened the driver's door and got in, the rest of them following suit. James found himself sitting by the window, with Logan squashed between him and Carlos. "Nice to see you here," he said to him.

"Yeah, Jett's cool," Logan nodded with a shrug, slouching back. Shrugging too, James sat back and listened to Jett and Carlos' energetic chattering, with Lucy occasionally throwing in a joke and all three of them roaring with laughter. What an interesting crowd.

Back at Jett's house, Jett ordered the pizza before putting his cellphone away and slouching down onto the couch, smiling at James. "So, James, how do you like he place so far? Not too shabby, right?"

"I do like it, thanks," he replied, smiling and thanking Lucy as he took the drink she offered him. "Everyone's been nice enough, the school is okay, though I don't think Mr Rocque likes me very much . . ."

"Eh, don't worry, he doesn't like anyone much," Jett said dismissively, though he threw Carlos a mischievous little grin. "So, Lucy was telling us that it's thanks to you Kendall's back at school?"

"Mercedes told me you found him in the backyard," Lucy added, eyes wide and she leaned forward intently. "That's amazing. I bet it freaked you out though."

"Oh it did, but I don't think there's anything amazing about it, anyone else would have found him too . . ."

"Yeah but still. Poor Kendall, losing his sister like that. We were worried sick."

"Most of us," Jett cut in with a distinctly harsher tone than before. "Others saw fit to flirt with the field hockey team in his absence."

"Cool it, Jett," Lucy scolded, patting his arm. "Don't mind him, James, him and Kendall aren't even friends really, he'll just take any chance to have a dig at Beau."

"That guy is a jerk," Jett grumbled, folding his arms.

"I don't understand," James found himself saying, though he did worry slightly that he already did. "What does Beau flirting with the girls' hockey team have to do with anything?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" This time it was Logan who spoke, snark on full blast as usual. "He and Kendall are an item. Like, the school's Brangelina or whatever. It's gross, but if you ask me they deserve each other."

"Nobody deserves that prick," Jett snapped at the same time that Carlos said kindly, "Come on Logan, don't be like that. Kendall's okay."

Logan bit his lip and nodded quietly, surprising James. "You're right . . . sorry."

James just sat there taking all of this in, all the little friendships and rivalries people seemed to have going on here. He was a little (or very) deflated upon hearing Kendall had a boyfriend, especially someone like Beau, but dwelling on it would do no good. Instead he focused on the current conversation, which had moved away from the controversial topic of their fellow students and on to the latest Game of Thrones episode. He could work with that.

The next thing on James' list was to find a part time job. He spent his Wednesday afternoon walking around town and searching for any places hiring. Most of them seemed to be booked up (though he did learn that Carlos worked at the vet clinic, the perfect place for him) until he came across a large general store, spotting a man standing at the counter inside. The store seemed to be quiet enough at that moment; the perfect time to ask about any job vacancies. He took a deep breath and walked in, putting on his best game face. "Excuse me, sir," he began, walking to the counter and taking a copy of his resume out of his bag. "My name James Diamond, I was wondering if there are any part time jobs available here?"

"Diamond, hmm?" The man quirked an eyebrow. "That's an unusual name. I'm George Hawk."

"It's nice to meet you. And yeah, everyone says that about my name. Here," James handed the man his resume, smiling politely and doing his best to look professional and smart. "I've had some experience working in a store for a few months, doing things like stocking shelves and working the register—"

"You're hired," Hawk cut in with a grin, shoving James' resume back into his hand. "Sorry to catch you off guard there; but this is a big store and we could do with an extra pair of hands. Let me introduce you to everyone, they're getting ready in the back room!"

"Wow . . . thank you!" James followed Hawk through the door behind the counter and into the staff room. Sitting at a small table were four women; one about Hawk's age, the other three all teenagers. In fact, he recognised at least one from school. They were all very pretty, looking up at him with glinting eyes.

"This is Tara Collins, my partner," Hawk began, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And these three are all Jennifer. I know it's confusing, but they're great workers so I had to just deal with it. They don't mind you mixing them up."

"It's true. Welcome," the three replied in spooky unison, chilling him nearly to the bone.

"Thanks," James replied uncertainly, glancing at Hawk.

"We'll get you a name tag soon," Hawk said, beckoning him back towards the door. "I'll show you around the store and how we do things, and we'll get you started! Tara, you can take over the till?"

"Sure, honey," Tara chirped, getting to her feet and leaving the back room, the Jennifers getting up and following. One of them, one with long blonde hair, stopped him and smiled sweetly, taking hold of his arm and producing as felt tip pen. She drew a strange little symbol on his right forearm and chirped, "Our logo. Welcome to the team."

"The Jennifers are in your school," Tara chimed in a sweet, bubblegum voice. "Jennifer 2 here is on the swim team, they're pretty successful. I was on the swim team too you know, back when I was in school."

"We met at a swim meet I went to," Hawk added with a loving smile. "Not with me in the water, of course – I can't stand water. Anyway, we're rambling. I'll show you around!"

For the next half hour James followed Hawk around the store, learning everything he would need to know for the job. Then, once all that was done, Hawk placed him behind the counter, gave him a brief overview of using the till, and sent Collins off to do some accounts. It was definitely a successful move so far; he already had friends, and now he had a part time job too. And it was a good one too; the customers were mannerly and cheerful, and he addressed them in the same way. The store was scheduled to close at 9pm.

"Sorry to keep you right until closing time on your first day, but we've got our hands full with the inventory and the Jennifers have already left," Hawk said with a sigh, turning the sign on the door to read CLOSED at last. "You can head on home; I'll call you with your hours from now on if that's okay?"

"That's great. Thanks so much!" James grabbed his bag and jacket from the back room and headed to the store door, unlocking it and waving to Hawk before stepping out into the street. It was dark out now and a little chilly, so he zipped up his jacket and headed off down the street. He roughly knew the way home from there; he walked another three blocks before glancing down a dank and narrow side street. It would take him much closer to where he needed to go, so he gave a little shrug and figured, why not? This was a small town, what could happen to him? He headed down and whistled cheerfully as he went.

He was just halfway down the street when his phone vibrated in his pocket and he stopped to take it out, squinting at the too-bright screen. It was a text from his mother, letting him know dinner was waiting once he got home, and that she hoped to see him soon. He smiled to himself and was just typing a quick reply when he heard a loud clatter behind him, followed by a quiet, but distinctive, low growl. He'd never hear a sound like it before. Well, that wasn't entirely true; he'd never heard a sound like that in real life. In horror films, though, that was another story. That was what made his skin crawl. His foot scraped against the concrete as he tried to move, tried to run from whatever on earth this growl was coming from, when he felt something digging into the arms of his jacket, yanking him back with a rip and throwing him across the ground. He landed with a grunt before screaming in pain as he felt the beast's sharp teeth sinking into his arm. He fell back on his side and trembled as he gazed at the rip in his bloody sleeve. With his head spinning, he lay and waited for the monster to strike again. But after lying in the cold for an agonising minute with nothing happening, he finally realised that it was gone.

James slowly pushed himself up his knees, and then to his feet, holding his arm and hissing. The wound was small and shallow but stung terribly, hot blood sliding down his fingers as he pressed his hand hard over the bite. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the road was deserted. With a shaky breath, and a new fear in his heart, he walked faster back onto the larger street, and towards home. He did not stop again.


The next morning when James woke up, his head hurt like hell and he already knew he'd slept in. And not a word from his family, great. He'd bandaged and cleaned his arm the previous night; however, when he woke up that morning and glanced underneath the bandage before getting into the shower, he saw that, somehow, it had already healed. The only evidence of the events ever taking place was the smudged logo of Hawk's shop on his arm, which he scrubbed off roughly before he got dressed. He didn't want to think about whatever weird fucked up nightmare he'd suffered through. Had none of it been real?

The hall was empty as James walked down in the direction of Mr Rocque's classroom. He was glad for the quiet; his headache hadn't subsided and he didn't need to be listening to the buzz of gossiping students. On the other hand, being late was sure to get him an earful from Mr Rocque, and he really didn't want to hear a demonstration of that man's yelling ability. Hopefully he'd go easy on him, though he didn't seem to like him much—

"Tardiness!" a shrill voice cried out from behind him.

James slowed to a stop, groaning to himself as he turned around to see a chubby man with beady eyes and glasses, holding a clipboard tightly in one clammy hand. "I'm writing you down for detention!" the man scolded, clicking his pen angrily and poising it on the clipboard. "Name?"

"Look, I'm sorry but I wasn't feeling well last night—"

"Name!"

"Hey, Mr Bitters!"

James and Mr Bitters turned to see Kendall striding towards them, smiling brightly. He held a stack of papers under his arm. "Sorry I'm out in the hall sir, I went to get these handouts for Ms Reid," he said sweetly, smiling in such a way that it was difficult not to imagine a halo over his head. "Wow, is that a new watch? It's gorgeous."

"Oh, well . . ." Mr Bitters' cheeks pinked. "Thank you, I just got it . . ."

"Well, you've got great taste." Kendall glanced at James and then back at Bitters. "So, listen, James is only new, yesterday was his first day . . . obviously I wouldn't want to tell you how to do your job but I think he's just a little lost. I'd be happy to show him to his classroom, let you get back to your work."

"Oh of course, of course!" Bitters simpered, clicking his pen and placing it back in his breastpocket. "Thank you, Kendall. I'll get back to my office."

"Sure thing sir, have a good day!" With that, Kendall held James firmly by the arm and steered him down the hall and around the corner, in the direction of his first class. "Sorry about that," he said with a mischievous smile. "That's the vice principal, a little high strung. But easy to distract; there's no way that watch wasn't a knockoff. Anyway, here we are!"

"Thank you," was all James could get out, still baffled by what had just occurred. "You really know your way around, don't you?"

"You live and learn. Enjoy your class, I'll see you later!" Kendall winked and strode off back down the hallway, papers in hand. James watched him turn the corner before finally daring to knock on Mr Rocque's classroom door and step inside. To say he got an earful from him was an understatement. His head was ringing for the remainder of the class. But he didn't have detention, so that was something to celebrate. He did, however, notice Logan arriving even later with heavy eyes indicating a night of restless sleep. And Mr Rocque only nodded gruffly and directed him to his seat, not a word more. Hey, all teachers had their favourites, he guessed. He could get over it. He made it through the next few classes with no other difficulties, and his headache finally began to ebb away.

Lunch, and this time as James was queuing up, he was startled by a dainty little tap on the back of his shoulder. He turned to see Kendall in the line behind him. "Hello," Kendall said cheerfully, head tilted slightly. "How was your morning?"

"It was good, thanks again for helping me earlier."

"Oh, it was nothing, I was happy to!" The two bought their lunches and stepped out of the line, James resuming his search to find Logan, or Carlos, or anyone.

Then Kendall smiled at James, tray in hand and said, "Why don't you come sit with me today?"

"Really?" His cheeks flushed slightly.

"Sure, why not? My friends are pretty nice, you've met them before. Come on, they won't bite!" Kendall nodded in the direction of a table where Mercedes, Camille and Beau were sitting and walked towards them, James following numbly behind. He was just nearing their table, with Beau and the girls greeting him cheerfully enough when he made eye contact with Carlos across the cafeteria. Upon catching his eye, Carlos grinned and bounced towards them with his own tray, followed closely by Logan, Jett and Lucy. Shit. What had he started? However, when they all sat down, crowding around and greeting the evidently more popular kids in loud voices (except for Logan who merely nodded) the only person who seemed displeased was Beau, immediately throwing Jett a cold look. Jett scowled back, before tucking into his food and proceeding to ignore him altogether. He, Lucy and Carlos, James noticed, all ate their food at the same rapid pace, stuffing it into their mouths as though they hadn't had a meal in weeks.

Kendall and hid friends on the other hand ate daintily and took their time. Beau seemed to spend most of the time with his mouth on Kendall's hair, ear or neck. It was gross, but for some reason Kendall didn't think so. James kept his eyes firmly on his food in between conversations with the others. However, other than Beau and Kendall's hideous love fest, it was a great hour spent, chatting to his new friends. He hadn't expected to make so many so quickly, and they were all so different. What were the odds of that happening? It filled him with a joyful sense of belonging. He was fine here. The rest of the day was passed with bliss and hockey practice after school was fantastic. It really was. He didn't want to brag, but he felt like he was in his element when he played with them. And afterwards Jett offered to drive him home, talking the whole way – mostly about himself, but it was still nice to have the company. He definitely wasn't the worst friend to have.

That night, James had dinner with his family and did his homework up in his room, satisfied that it had been a relatively normal day. As he went to sleep that night, he suspected (and hoped) that tomorrow would be no different.


And yet, for reasons he couldn't fathom, James awoke that morning with yet another splitting headache. He sat up slowly and groaned to himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and massaging his temples in the hopes to ease his pounding head. As he sat up, however, he felt something strange; a chilly breeze. Looking up and squinting in the morning light, he noticed with a start that his window was open. He got up and made his way over, shutting it firmly and keeping the chill out. As he stepped back from the window, he stepped on something cold and hard and jumped, hopping back on one foot as he looked at the floor. It was a thick, gaudy silver watch, thrown carelessly on his floor. As he picked it up, however, James recognised its cheap appearance; it was vice principal Bitter's watch. It had to be.

So why did it have blood on it?

James flung it across the room into a half empty cardboard box, stepping back and shaking his head. It was just some stupid prank. Kendall doing it to mess with him or something, it was nothing. He told himself this firmly over and over as he sped from the room and didn't look back, shutting the door firmly behind him. He went downstairs to the kitchen, where Bobby was sitting at the table absorbed in his bowl of cereal and his mother was talking anxiously on the phone over by the counter. It was only as she noticed him there that she hung up, expression grim. James poured himself a glass or orange juice and tried not to look at her.

"James?"

Groaning inwardly, he replied slowly, "Yeah?"

"I just heard some shocking news," Brooke said mournfully, tone low as she pocketed her phone. "Your vice principal, Mr Bitters . . . he was found dead this morning."

James' hand shook. "W-what?"

"Yes, terrible . . . all slashed up. People are debating between animal attack and sadistic murderer. There's just no way to tell, but either way I heard the crime scene was an awful mess. What on earth happened to the poor man?"

The glass slipped from James' hand with a crash.