I don't own Sky High. Due to lack of readable Oc works -most make Warren out to be something he's not- Warren will be as in character as I can make him.

"Uff!" All the air rushed out of my lungs in one big gust because Peace is a wall. A freaking brick wall.

I blinked twice and my premonition faded into the present. Lovely, could have used that like two seconds ago, but all is well that ends horribly.

Peace raised an eyebrow, a little angry looking. I ignored the anger just because I could and that sort of behavior annoys people like Pyro.

"Here's a suggestion Pyro: Stop. Stalking. Me." I punctuated each word so he would get the message. Considering his retort, I don't think he did.

"Spider, I'm not stalking you. I have far better things to do with my time." He sent a glare my way. "Like ripping out my own intestines."

Shit. My eyes narrowed into deadly slits. He would so regret that.

"Don't call me that." I hissed. One more word out of this asshole and he was going to pay. Big time. My anger was already at dangerously high stakes, better not raise Peace.

"Call you what?"

"Don't try innocent, it doesn't work on you."

"Who said I was trying innocent."

"I did."

"Well your opinion doesn't matter."

"Just because your some pompous asshole with your head shoved so far up your ass that you can't see clearly, doesn't mean that my opinion is any less important than the almighty Pyro's." I snapped, hands balling into fists at my side.

Don't get furious. Control your anger. He's not worth getting thrown in jail. Remember what Powers said. Don't kill him. No matter how much you want to.

I fought my better instincts to kick his motherfucking ass because, boy, he deserved it. I fought it, but I still read his fears -even if I didn't mean to.

Fear of being unloved. Fear of becoming just like his father. Fear of being helpless. Fear of betrayal. Fear that something will happen to his mother. Fear that his father would escape from solitary….

They went on and on, and they went deep. I would have thought of would have caused him to be so… scared if I wasn't as fucking pissed as I was. And I was fucking pissed.

No one tells me my opinion doesn't matter. No one. Not again.

I took a deep breath, and then another. They were supposed to calm me down, but they did little good. I might as well have started running up and down the hallway to simmer down.

Peace seemed surprised by my reaction; my absolute fury.

"You have a bit of a temper don't you?"

"You're really one to talk." I huffed.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Whatever, Spider."

I flipped him off, because I could. The stupid pyro with his too big lips and his bad boy who hates the world swagger- God, he was starting to get on my last nerve. I walked the fuck away before I did something that I might regret. Technically I stormed, but I think walked sounds a bit more dignified. And, well, I'm never very dignified, so sometimes it feels nice to pretend. Classy as hell, confident as shit -because I couldn't care what the fuck people said about me-, and stubborn as fuck, but I was never dignified.

Instead of stalking off towards the lunchroom -like I really should have- I headed outside because, damn did I need a cigarette brake. The need for nicotine swelled inside of me and begged for smoke. It begged for a release. And, really, who am I to object?

I didn't used to smoke so much but this summer has been… stressful and I needed something to take the edge off. Cigarettes were there already and so damn delicious that I couldn't resist.

It's really windy outside, and my hair - it's getting too scruffy I'll need to get it cut soon, and colored since my dark roots are showing through the blond.

I make my way behind the building and one of the storage sheds -a place where the surveillance cameras can't watch. It's a spot I found over the summer when I had free time.

I don't worry about being caught as I slip my bent pack of Camels out and put a cancer stick between my lips. It doesn't matter if I'm caught, I don't really care about suspension or expulsion -I hate this school. My trusty lighter isn't cooperating, I soon find out as the small flickers I am getting from it are quickly snuffed out from the wind. Even cupping my hand around the flame isn't helping any.

But, after about twenty or so tries I finally get the flame to burn long enough to light my stick of heaven.

And, God, is it ever worth it. There's no hangover to dull the sensation and the smoke tastes like every great thing on this planet. Or, to my nicotine addiction it does.

I burn through two cigarettes before I had to go back inside to the torture that is Sky High.