Warnings: Explicit language, physical violence.

We're picking up exactly where chapter 4 left off, just a heads up!


Adolescents are not monsters. They are just people trying to learn how to make it among the adults in the world, who are probably not so sure themselves. -Virginia Satir


Chapter 5: Broken Man

I need to start to be myself, because I'm sick of everybody else.


James cringes when his stepmother walks into the lobby. She waves at him enthusiastically when she spots him and James groans and pushes himself up off the couch, bidding Lucy farewell as he goes to meet the young woman. She signs him out and gives him a big hug that he doesn't return, though she doesn't notice this.

She chats incessantly as she drives him home, about the new furniture in the guest bedroom, how the painters have finally finished working on the kitchen, that she signed up for a Pilates class this week. On and on, her endless chatter fills the silence; it's as if she thinks that the sound of her voice will distract James from the fact that his dad couldn't be bothered to come pick up his son.

James stares moodily out the window and tunes Evelyn out, grabbing his bag roughly and slamming the car door when they pull up into the long driveway of Mr. Diamond's home. James' father is nowhere in sight when he goes inside, probably locked in his study to avoid seeing him.

"He had a lot of paperwork to go through," Evelyn tries, and James blatantly rolls his eyes at her, not caring that he's being disrespectful to his stepmother. She hardly even counts as a stepmother, she's only twenty-five years old—she could be his sister. He doesn't see her as a mom and she doesn't treat him like a son, which is probably why he gets away with being so rude to her all the time.

"Right," James mutters and brushes past her to go up to his room.

He's got a history report due the next day that he hasn't even started on, so in an effort to distract himself, he boots up his laptop and starts researching World War II, staying up late into the night to finish the damn thing.

He drives to school the next morning without saying hello or goodbye to his father or Evelyn, but he doubts either of them even notices. He takes a moment to rake his lucky comb through his already flawless hair when he pulls into the senior parking lot, making sure that his appearance is perfect before he steps outside.

People stare at him as he makes his way inside and to his locker, but he's used to this. Girls flutter their eyelashes and smile brightly at him as he passes, and he offers a few of them (the hot ones) his signature James Diamond smirk. Guys glance at him jealously, and a few random nerds cower in his wake, as if they're afraid he might suddenly shut them inside their lockers or dunk their heads in the nearest toilet. He only looks at them bemusedly as he walks to his locker—he's gotten in his fair share of fights, sure, but he's not a bully. He's never beat up someone who didn't touch him first. He left the petty shit like that to Jett.

Speak of the devil.

As soon as James opens up his locker, it's slammed shut again, revealing Jett Stetson behind the metal door. Jett has a cocky grin on his face and James just rolls his eyes and opens it up again.

"Douche," he says.

Jett laughs. "What's up, Diamond?"

"Not much," James replies, digging around for his Statistics textbook. He stores his coat and gloves away before shutting the locker and lifting his backpack to his shoulder again.

If anyone asked, James would say Jett was his best friend, and Jett would say the same. They were both equally handsome, rich, and popular, so by process of elimination, they found each other back in middle school and had stuck together ever since.

"You up for a party tonight?" Jett asks, raising his eyebrow at his friend.

"On a Monday night?" James questions.

"There's a hockey game tonight," Jett explains. "It's supposed to be a sure win, and we clinch the division. Celebration at Banks' place. You in or what?"

"Yeah, I guess so," James shrugs. "I'm at my dad's tonight, which means no one'll notice if I'm not there."

"Ahh, yes, how is your dad?" Jett asks. "But more importantly, how is Evelyn?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and James shoves him lightly.

"You're gross. That's my stepmom."

"Your insanely hot stepmom. How old is she? Like twenty-five?"

"So what? She's married to my dad, you tool."

"Whatever. She's still a step-MILF."

The bell rings finally and James is glad to have an excuse to walk away from Jett. Not that Jett notices. He merely follows James down the hall, and James sees Logan talking with Camille outside a classroom. She's smiling at him sweetly while he finishes saying something to her, and James cringes when their moment is ruined by Jett accidentally-on-purpose bumping into Logan harshly on his way inside. Logan drops his notebook and Jett makes sure to step on it as he passes, causing Logan to glare at his back, though he doesn't say anything.

Camille regretfully follows Jett inside the room, and Logan looks up and meets James' eyes. He's been glued to the spot for the last several seconds, and he gets this weird déjà vu feeling, knowing that Logan is also remembering a similar situation in which Jett acted like an asshole to him and James did nothing to stop it. History repeats itself, and James walks into his own class without saying anything to Logan.

During first period alone he receives three text messages inviting him to the party at Charlie Banks' house. By lunchtime it seems like the whole school has heard about it, as it's all anyone's talking about. Have you heard about the party? Do you still have your fake ID? I'll see you there, right?

After school, he and Jett go on a booze run, and they're joined by Jett's sort-of girlfriend, Mercedes Griffin, a blond cheerleader (head cheerleader, to be exact) who used to be Jo's best friend until she stopped speaking. The trio walks into the liquor store confidently, and Mercedes even waves at the guy behind the counter, a greasy-looking dude who eyes her appreciatively as she meanders through the store with Jett and James.

When they get up to the check-out, the guy is obviously trying to get a good look down her shirt, and Mercedes leans over the counter with a flirty grin, innocently batting her eyelashes. He's so smitten that he doesn't even ask for anyone's ID, instead ringing them up without hesitation. Mercedes thanks him and winks before they walk out.

"I swear to God that guy is gonna close the store and go jack off," Jett snorts when they're outside. "He was practically drooling when you leaned over."

"Ha. The guys that work there are all sleaze-balls. But they never card if my shirt is low enough," Mercedes laughs. "As if I'd ever actually think twice about them. Gross."

James tunes out their conversation, already growing bored of their presence, and he wonders if it's too late to back out of going to this party. Mercedes' voice is grating on his nerves, and Jett's asinine comments are making him want to punch the guy. But he knows it'll look weird if he bails. He's the James Diamond, after all. People expect to see him there, and he always keeps up appearances. Still, Jett and Mercedes are really annoying, so he declines their offer when they ask if he wants a ride to the hockey game.

Instead, he goes back up to school and heads to the locker room. He's got some clean gym clothes there and decides to go let out some energy in the weight room. His therapist told him it might be a good idea to channel his aggressive energy into physical activity, so he's thinking he'll try it out. It's better than constantly wanting to punch his best friend in the face—that can't be a good sign.

He hopes the weight room will be empty, but no such luck. There's someone working out on the bench press, and it takes James a second to realize that it's Kendall Knight. He wonders why Kendall's in here alone, but then it dawns on him that all his best friends are on the hockey team, and they're already at the arena getting ready for the game that Kendall's not allowed to play in. Kendall doesn't notice him, and James doesn't bother him. Instead he decides to start with a run and goes over to the corner with the treadmills.

He puts in his headphones and turns the music up loud, focusing on the beat and his breathing and his heart rate, and not on his annoying so-called friends or on his moron of stepmother or his neglectful father.

He feels better after his workout and thinks that maybe there's something to this physical activity thing. Too bad he didn't try it before beating the hell out of Ross Donovan and punching Coach Owens in the face. Thinking back, he doesn't even know how he lost control so badly. He'd thought 'seeing red' was an expression, but when Ross had hit him, it was like something snapped and he was just suddenly blind with rage. He hadn't even realized he hit Coach Owens until Jett managed to calm him down with an uncharacteristically frightened look on his face.

James showers and gets dressed and checks his phone. He's got a text from Jett letting him know where they're sitting, a text from Tina, his ex-girlfriend, asking if he'll be at the party later (he ignores that one), and a text from his mother reminding him that she expects him home directly after school tomorrow, which he rolls his eyes at. Whatever.

Once he gets to the arena, he quickly locates his friends and goes to sit with them, being careful to keep his distance from Tina. He mostly listens as his friends chat around him, adding in comments every so often so no one notices that he would really rather not be there. He notices Kendall again, sitting alone near the bench, and James guesses it's because if he can't actually play in the game, he might as well get as close to the action as he can.

The game is probably one of the most exciting ones he's ever seen. The players fly over the ice, both teams playing with everything they've got, but in the end, everyone's prediction comes true: Oakmont wins the game, which means they win the division and are guaranteed a spot on the district playoffs. James sees that Kendall is clapping, but he looks rather subdued, given that his team just won. Maybe it's because he wishes he were out there on the ice with them, like he should be. Kendall should have been the star of the team this year. He was co-captain at the beginning of the season, but then… something happened. James had heard he started skipping practices, wasn't living up to his potential, and finally, got kicked off the team when he showed up to a game hungover as hell and reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

He's shaken out of his thoughts, literally, when Jett nudges him and tells him that everyone's about to head over to Charlie's house for the party. He drives over there alone, and the whole way there he's thinking about how he doesn't really want to go. He's just…over it. He's over all the typical fake crap that comes along with being popular—he's got to look a certain way, act a certain way, and it's just tiresome. He knows he sounds whiny—poor you, people like you—but he can't help it. He gets so edgy and frustrated around everyone these days, and he doesn't know why he suddenly started feeling this way.

When he parks outside Charlie's place, James mentally shakes himself and puts on a face. He's James Diamond, and he's got an image to uphold. And he's sure got to do a better job of it now, since he almost ruined things by getting in that fight with Ross Donovan and punching Coach Owens.

It seems like every upperclassman in the school is at this party, and James even spots Carlos with some of his friends hanging around. Carlos nods at him as he passes him and James returns the gesture as he moves on. In the kitchen, a bunch of his friends have set up camp, playing drinking games and chatting as they celebrate the team's win. Tina tries to engage him in conversation, offering him a drink and sidling up to him, touching his arm and laughing unnecessarily when he speaks. She's doing some heavy flirting and James almost rolls his eyes at her. They broke up over a month ago, and she's just been relentless in trying to get him back, even after hearing about all the girls he's hooked up with since then.

After a few beers and a few shots, she succeeds in getting him to dance with her in the living room, and she presses her body against his, moving to the rhythm of the music blaring through the house. James isn't really paying attention to her though, despite her best efforts to make him notice her. After a few songs he manages to break away from her with the excuse that he needs to go to the bathroom, and he's left with no choice but to go off in that general direction in hopes of getting lost in the crowd. He decides he actually will go to the bathroom and splash some water on his face.

Once he gets to the hallway, however, things change.

Some guy he's never seen before has Lucy Stone pressed up against the wall, and James almost turns around to go back in the other direction, thinking not to interrupt them, but then he sees the look on her face. Her eyes are clenched shut and her lips are pursed, almost as if she's in pain. The random guy just continues kissing her neck and letting his hands roam her body, not noticing that she's not into at all or that she looks like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

When the guy's hand moves to the zipper of her jeans, her eyes flutter open, and James thinks he's never seen her look so panicked before. Still, she doesn't do or say anything to stop him, so the boy continues on. James contemplates minding his own business and leaving, but he would hate himself if he walked away from the scene after seeing how obviously Lucy didn't want to be there. He coughs loudly and then "accidentally" bumps into the guy, feigning an attempt to move past him and go into the bathroom.

"Sssorry, man," James slurs. "My bad." He puts a sloppy grin on his face and lets his eyelids droop a little to add to the effect.

The guy looks pissed but James is a lot bigger than him, plus he's probably heard about what James did to Ross Donovan, so he lets it go. "Uh… No big."

James looks over at Lucy and acts like he's just noticed her. "Luuuucy!" He gives her a big hug which she returns gratefully. James feels her relax in his arms.

"You know him?" The guy glances warily between Lucy and James.

"We're old friends," James says before she can respond, slinging an arm around the small girl beside him. "You doin' alright, Luce? This guy's not bothering you, is he?" He grins as he says it, but he lifts an eyebrow at the other boy, letting him know the question is serious.

The guy takes a step back from James. "We were just… hanging out," he says lamely, looking for Lucy to back him up. She says nothing. "But you know what, you two look like you want to catch up, so I'll see you later, Lucy."

He retreats from the scene in a hurry and James sees her instantly become less tense.

"You okay?" James drops the drunk act and looks at her seriously.

Lucy doesn't meet his eyes, instead fumbling to get her zipper back up. "'M fine," she mumbles. "Thanks for… thank you."

"You're welcome, but that's bull," James says. "You obviously didn't want to be here with him. Why didn't you tell him to stop?"

Lucy mutters something under her breath but James is pretty sure he makes out the words "wouldn't have mattered" and he frowns at her. She's not popular per se, but she does have quite a bit of a reputation around school. Enough for him to have heard some pretty out-there stories from guys who've gotten in her pants and have no problems telling everyone about it.

"It does matter," he tells her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Nothing's wrong with saying no."

He means it to be comforting, but she looks offended.

"Don't fucking lecture me about who I do or don't say 'no' to," she says. "Who I happen to screwing is none of your business. And besides, you're not really one to talk. Everyone knows you've gotten with half the cheerleading squad and the girls' field hockey team. And the choir girls."

She starts to walk away but he holds onto her wrist to prevent her from going. "I didn't mean it like that! I just mean… you looked scared, Luce, but you didn't do anything to stop him. All you had to do was speak up."

Her face softens and he seems to have hit a nerve, but she doesn't say anything else.

"Look… I'm over this party. You want a ride home?" He asks.

"Yeah," she nods.

He slips his hand into hers and leads her back through the party, not caring who sees him with Lucy, the infamous stoner-goth-girl-slash-school-slut. In fact he actually rather enjoys the shocked look on Tina's face as she watches them leave together. What he doesn't notice is how Carlos sees them holding hands and follows them out with his eyes, frowning as they exit the party.

They're pretty much silent all the way to Lucy's house—he doesn't want to bother her, because it looks like she's thinking hard about something. He stops at the base of her driveway and gets out to move around the car to the passenger side, opening the door for her. He even walks her all the way to the porch, and she hesitates before pulling out her keys.

Quickly she stands on her tip-toes and kisses James right on the mouth, murmuring another quiet "thank you" before slipping inside and shutting the door behind her, leaving him standing on the doorstep, surprised at how this night has turned out.


"So did you bang her or what?"

James looks up from his sandwich and sees Jett setting his bag down, preparing to sit across from James at their usual lunch table. They're the first two to arrive, but soon enough it'll be crowded with their other friends.

"What?"

"Goth-slut. Everyone saw you two leave together, dude. She as good as everyone says?"

James only takes another bit of his sandwich in response, shaking his head at the boy across from him. "I just gave her a ride home," he says calmly. His frustration level is already starting to rise and it's only been about fifteen seconds since Jett arrived. Cool it, Diamond. Don't blow things out of proportion.

"I'll bet you did," Jett snickers knowingly and James just rolls his eyes, though he's gripping his sandwich harder than necessary. Bits of lettuce are dripping out the bottom, and he's close to puncturing ten finger-shaped holes in the bread.

"I'm serious," James tells him. "She wasn't having a good time and I was bored anyway so I drove her home."

"What, are you like her friend or something?" Jett questions, confused.

"No—I mean—sort of," James admits. "She's, um… she's in my group. In therapy." He lowers his voice and looks down, not wanting to see the awkward look he knows is on Jett's face.

"Oh, uh, that's…cool," Jett fumbles for something to say.

He knows James spends his weekends at the Palm Woods, but it's not something they've ever talked about in detail. He never asked James what it's like there, and James has never given the information freely, so they ignore the topic completely, as do all of James' other friends. It's pretty common knowledge around school that James' parents stuck him in therapy after the whole gym class fiasco (he couldn't avoid the questions about where he was spending his weekends since his presence is basically mandatory at every major party) but he's done a good job of shunning the questions about what he does and who else is there. This is the first time he's ever mentioned someone else's name.

Jett doesn't really know what else to say and James knows it's because while they've been friends since middle school, their friendship isn't really based on any sort of emotional connection. They just both happened to be rich and good-looking—it was only natural to start hanging out together. Chasing girls and talking about their expensive vacations, but never anything much deeper than that. Later it moved to talking about which girls they were trying to bed and how drunk they got at the latest party, but never about how James' dad filed for divorce or how his mom criticizes him for everything.

Jett drops the subject as the table fills with teenagers chattering about the hockey game and the party. Tina sits a few spaces away from James and tries to catch his eye so she has a reason to speak with him, but he refuses to acknowledge her.

"Hey, James, shouldn't you be sitting over there with the loser burn-outs?" She finally asks loudly, knowing he'll have to respond to her.

"What?" James looks up to see the malicious smirk on her face, as well as the amused looks of everyone else at the table who've undoubtedly formed their own versions of what must have happened between James and Lucy last night.

"I just figured you'd be hanging around her, since it seems like you found a new fuck-buddy last night," she comments easily.

A couple of guys glance over at Lucy appreciatively. She's no cheerleader, and she's got some weird-ass hair, but there's still something really hot about her that no one can quite put their finger on. It might help that she's got a reputation for being an easy lay.

"Shut the fuck up, Tina," James snaps. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"No need to get defensive, Jamie," Tina coos innocently. "I'm sure no one's judging you."

This is what he gets for antagonizing her last night, James thinks to himself. She's trying to punish him for blowing her off. For not wanting to get back together with her. He wants to tell her to shut up, that Lucy is his friend, that he gave her a lift home because some guy was trying to take advantage of her in the hallway. But he can't do that without revealing to everyone, as he just did to Jett, that he's close to Lucy because they're in group together. Everyone knows about him being in therapy, but it's not his place to talk about anyone else that's there. So he keeps his mouth shut and tries to ignore Tina.

"Was it good, at least?" She continues. "She seems like she'd be pretty crazy in bed, am I right?"

James' face and neck are getting hot and he tries to remember what his therapist told him to do when he feels himself getting angry. Take deep breaths. Count to ten. Don't say anything you might regret. Don't get violent.

He makes it to 'three' before Tina's voice is breaking through again, but she's not addressing James. Instead, she's loudly making of Lucy with Mercedes, talking about everything from her red-streaked hair to her torn fishnet tights to the rumor that got started that she fucked the new substitute teacher in a supply closet last week.

"Tina, just shut up," James says loudly, and several people around them go silent. He stands up quickly, so his chair scrapes harshly against the floor and nearly falls over. "You don't even fucking know her, so quit acting like a jealous bitch." His hands are balled into fists but he keeps his arms clamped firmly to his sides.

The smirk falls off Tina's face instantly and she doesn't have anything to say back. She's the queen bee. No one's ever talked to her like this in this public and she has no clue how to react. She doesn't have to though, because before she can snap back at him, James has already turned away and stalked out of the cafeteria.

His next period is Calculus, which he's close to failing, but he decides to skip it anyway. James heads down the hallway purposefully, knowing where he wants to go, but outside the door of the classroom, he falters for a moment. What if he gets caught?

Fuck it.

He twists the knob and steps inside the empty music room, shutting the door tightly behind him. He walks over the piano in the corner, which has some sheet music on it for a song he and his classmates have been rehearsing in choir.

If you asked anyone like Jett or Mercedes or Tina why James Diamond was in choir, they would have told you it was because all the cool electives like art and photography were already full by the time James turned in his class requests. After all, that's what he told them.

The truth is he just likes singing. He's always had a thing for music, ever since his mom put him in piano lessons in second grade because she wanted him to be well-rounded or something. And not to brag or anything, but he's actually a pretty good singer. He's got a solo in the upcoming choir concert and everything. It's kind of embarrassing being singled out like that, but he's also kind of flattered. Besides, it's not like any of his friends will be there. He doubts even his parents will go.

For the forty-five minutes when he should be learning derivatives or whatever it is they're studying in math, James plays the piano and sings softly to himself, not hearing the door open or seeing the small blond girl come in. He finishes his song and shuffles the sheet music back into its proper order and looks up to find Jo Taylor standing in the doorway.

"That was good," she says quietly.

"Thanks," James answers embarrassedly. How long has she been standing there? "What are you doing here?"

"I have band practice next period…" She trails off and James can tell she's feeling uncomfortable, though he can't think why. He stands up from the piano bench and approaches her, wondering why she looks like she wants to turn and flee from the scene.

"I think I've got a quiz in Spanish," he says casually, trying to be friendly. He leans against the doorframe and Jo takes an automatic step back, keeping him a little further than arm's length away.

James wants to ask her what's wrong, why she's so timid these days, but he figures this is not the time or place to get into that. Not at school. It's just that she's so different now than she was when he first met her over the summer. She'd shown up at a party with Mercedes—she was the new girl in town, fresh from North Carolina, and she'd just tried out for the cheer squad that afternoon and made varsity. She'd been captain at her old school as a junior, so she'd be a star addition to the team this year.

She was shy back then. Quiet and sweet, but also fun to talk with if you got to know her. The girls all loved and hated her simultaneously—she was so nice and innocent, you couldn't dislike her, but goddamn it, she was so pretty that you had to be jealous of her. Plus she had a cute southern accent that all the guys loved. She never drank or smoked, and she often became embarrassed if the topic of conversation turned too R-rated.

Something happened over winter break. If she was quiet before, she was silent now. Her endearing shyness became downright frightened. She stopped going to parties altogether. Finally, frustrated with the lack of effort she was putting into cheerleading, Mercedes kicked her off the squad, which apparently was the equivalent of kicking her out of their friendship, because she hadn't talked to Jo since then. And Jo hadn't talked to anyone since then. Except for James, occasionally.

"Good luck with that," Jo says softly, and James knows it's all he's going to get out of her today.

"Thanks. See you later." Someday she'll open up, James thinks. It's just a matter of time. He's the only one she talks to regularly in therapy, though that might soon be changing if Logan has anything to do with it. He'll make them actually be productive in group, and James isn't sure if he really wants that or not.


When he gets to his mother's house after school, she's typing away at her computer in her home-office, while simultaneously yelling at someone into her cell phone about some lost inventory lists or something. He moves past the open door and quickly climbs the stairs to start his homework—she won't allow him to watch TV or play video games or even work out until he's finished it, something she's conditioned him into since he was a child.

He has a whole twenty minutes to himself before the ex-Mrs. Diamond is barging into his room without bothering to knock.

"Are you working on your homework?" She demands.

"Yes, Mom," James says sullenly. He holds up a sheet from his Spanish workbook to prove it.

"Good. Now would you like to tell me why I got a call saying you skipped a class today?" She crosses her arms over her chest, glaring down at James, who gulps nervously.

"I, um…" He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up a little, searching for something to say. Certainly not the truth.

Mrs. Diamond automatically reaches her hand out and smoothes James' hair back down into place, and coming from anyone else, it would be seen as a comforting gesture. Instead, James stiffens, watching his mother's stern facial expression as she fixes him; her son represents her and her company, and she can't have him looking anything less than perfect at all times, even in the privacy of their own home.

"Right," she says shortly. "Do not let me get another call like that, James David. You need to be responsible for yourself! I can't be running out of meetings to take calls from your school just because you didn't feel like going to class!"

But it was more than that, James wants to tell her. It's not like he just skipped math to go smoke outside. He wasn't trying to be lazy or irresponsible, like she seems to think. He would've done something stupid if he had gone to class. He needed that extra time to settle down, or else who knows what could've happened. He might have snapped in the middle of class by being asked to work out a problem on the board or something.

"Okay," he mumbles. "Sorry, Mom."

He can't stand up to her. Never has been able to, and he doubts he ever will. What she says goes. Always. Without exception. End of discussion.

"What were you doing, anyway? I know you didn't leave campus."

Tell the truth… get yelled at. Tell a lie… get yelled at anyway. Might as well tell the truth.

"I went to the music room," James admits. "I just played piano for awhile and sang my solo."

"You skipped class to practice your choir solo?" His mother sighs frustratedly. "We've talked about this, James!"

"I know, I—it won't happen again," James says earnestly. "I promise."

"See that it doesn't," she says sternly. "Or else we might need to re-evaluate your choice in electives. It seems to be taking your concentration away from what really matters."

She gives him another reproving look before exiting his room. His hands are shaking a little but he forces himself to breathe. He can't quit choir; he needs it. It's his time to focus on something he loves, something he's actually good at, something he cares about. It would sound weird if he tried to explain to anyone, which is why he never has, but he likes it because it's something he has to actually work at. He's always been popular, always been good-looking, always had everything he needed and wanted, thanks to his mom's successful company. He knows he's fortunate for all those things, for having things come easily to him, and he's not one of those spoiled rich kids who think they deserve everything they have. That's why he gets so much satisfaction out of singing. It's something that he can push himself on, and when he succeeds, he can say it's because he worked hard for it. Not his parents.

How can he tell her that it's not stealing his concentration from what matters, because it is what matters? It's where he's fully himself, not what his mother expects him to be, or what his friends expect him to be, or his teachers or therapist or anyone else.

Just him.


James is running late to his last-period study hall the next day, thanks to the unusually crowded bathroom. He passes Jett in the hallway and just manages a quick nod, trying to get to the library on time. The bell is ringing as he sprints inside, earning him a glare from the librarian, who tsks at him while he signs in and looks around for a seat. Mercedes is filing her nails at a table with a couple of other girls and James immediately keeps scanning.

Kendall Knight is sitting at a table in the corner with a guy from the hockey team, near another table that is nearly empty except for Jo Taylor. Making up his mind, he quietly approaches Jo's table and gestures to the chair across from her, silently asking for permission to join her. Kendall looks surprised when she shrugs and nods, but he quickly turns back around to face his friend.

Now that he's here, he can see that Jo looks upset. He leans toward her.

"You okay?" His voice sounds unnaturally loud in the silent room, and the librarian looks up to shush him harshly.

He looks at Jo and raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know," she says softly.

Ms. Shipley looks up again, trying to find the source of the noise.

Rolling his eyes, James takes out a notebook and rips a sheet of paper out of it.

What's wrong? He writes. He makes a show of folding the paper into quarters and sliding it surreptitiously towards her, and he succeeds in making her smile, even if it is a small one.

Jo picks up the pen she was using to take notes from her Physics book and slowly writes out a response to James, pausing every so often, as if she's not sure if she wants to continue or not.

-It's nothing… someone just gave me a hard time. I'm taking it too seriously. Don't worry about it. She pushes the note back to James, who reads it quickly and then gives her a disbelieving look.

Come on. You can tell me.

-It doesn't matter. It's not really about that, anyway.

Then what is it about?

Jo looks up and meets James' eyes, and he sees something in her face change. It's subtle, but it's there. She's decided something, and she's steeling herself for the consequence.

-Can I tell you what happened over winter break?

James, who's been reading along as she writes, is taken aback, but he nods anyway. He doesn't know what to expect, and he's not sure that the middle of study hall is the proper place to discuss whatever it is that she wants to discuss. But if he lets her down now, he might never get another chance to know what happened. To know why she suddenly became this new girl who wouldn't talk to anyone if she could possibly avoid it

-The party at Jennifer Green's house. James remembers it, sort of. Blond Jennifer, as he refers to her, had a New Year's Eve party at her parents' lake house. Everyone was there. It was a great night. But then someone called the cops on the party and they all had to scatter to get away to avoid getting MIPs on their records. A couple of kids got caught trying to run and got taken in.

-I was the one who called the cops. James just stares at her. Why would she do that? I didn't do it just to break up the party, she writes. I needed—she stops. I was drunk and stupid, and I didn't know what else to do. I needed help.

She silently pleads with him to understand, but he needs more of an explanation. He doesn't get it.

Why? He asks. Why did you need help? Why couldn't you just ask someone? What happened?

Jo shakes her head and picks up her pen again. James sees her hand shaking while she writes out her next sentence.

-I was raped.

James' heart stops and his breath catches in his throat. His hand is clenched tightly around his pen, but he knows he won't write anything back.

"What?" He says it out loud and ignores Ms. Shipley's shushing. "Jo, are you serious? Have you—"

"Mr. Diamond! This is study hall! You can continue conversation after the period has ended or you can continue it in the principal's office!"

"Alright! I got it!" James snaps before instantly biting down on his lip to prevent himself from saying anything else.

"Detention, Mr. Diamond. Two weeks."

James exhales through his nose but he nods curtly at Ms. Shipley, balling his hands into fists underneath the table. His jaw is aching from how tightly he's clamped it shut. Kendall Knight is staring between him and Jo, and James realizes he must have heard what he said. He must have a weird look on his face or something, because Kendall looks concerned, both for him and for Jo, who's pulled her legs up onto her chair so she can hug her knees. She's refusing to look at him, and he can't do anything to get her attention without Ms. Shipley having a conniption.

James notices for the first time how tired she looks. Her eyes have bags under them, and she, unlike any other girl in their class, hasn't bothered to put on any makeup to cover them. She's wearing a hoodie that's too big for her and her hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail, and the nail polish on her fingernails is chipped badly.

They sit there in agonizing silence until the bell rings, signaling the end of the period and thankfully, the day. The room empties out quickly, the students rushing out to get to sports practices and play rehearsal, or just away from school, but James and Jo hang back. Kendall takes his time gathering up his things, looking like he wants to stay and see what's going on with Jo and James, but his friend is waiting impatiently by the doorway and eventually Kendall sighs and leaves with him, glancing back at Jo one last time before slipping through the door.

"Jo." They're walking down the hallway, which is still filled with students talking loudly and retrieving things from their lockers, and Jo keeps glancing around furtively, as if she's afraid anyone who even looks at them will know exactly what's going on between them.

She shakes her head at him frantically, begging him to wait until they're out of earshot of everyone before he confronts her about her revelation. They walk straight out the front doors and all the way to the nearby park before she even looks at him again. He watches her as she climbs up the jungle-gym and sits at the top of the slide, staring into space. James wants her speak, to look at him, anything to let him know she's still there. He climbs up beside her and they both sit cross-legged, looking down at the empty playground as the cold winter air blows around them.

"I had never been drunk before," she says quietly. "But Mercedes promised me it would be okay, that she'd look out for me, but then she disappeared and… I was so scared, James. I didn't know what to do."

"Jo…I…"

It's a lot to grasp for James. He feels strangely guilty even though he was nowhere near Jo that night. Maybe it's because seeing her so broken like this makes him think about the girls he's hurt in the past. He's never raped a girl before, but he's had his fair share of drunken hook-ups, or one-nighters where he promised to call the girl and never did. He's never thought about it like this before, but maybe he takes advantage of them, too. Maybe he's just as bad as someone who… someone who would force himself on a girl for fun.

But that's not fun, he thinks. It's sick. It's wrong. Aside from this weird feeling of guilt, there are a lot of other emotions swirling around inside him right now. He's angry—beyond angry—infuriated, that someone would do that to her. He's oddly protective of her, maybe because she's the new girl, the innocent southern belle. Maybe because for some reason, she's picked him to be the one she speaks to. Anyone else might think it's because he has some sort of romantic feelings for her, but that's not it. Jo's like a sister to him, and all he can think of is how he hopes Jo doesn't tell him who did it, because he swears he could kill whoever it is, right then and there, with his bare hands.

His violent thoughts are starting to scare him, and he doesn't realize how tense he's gotten until Jo puts her hand on his shoulder to stop the shivers running down his spine that have nothing to do with the cold.

"Does anyone know?" James finally asks, unable to think of anything else.

"I c-can't," Jo says. "I can't tell."

"You have to," he tries. "What if he—what if he gave you something? What if you're pregnant?"

"He used a condom," Jo says darkly. "Very thoughtful of him." She starts picking at her nails to avoid looking at James.

Off in the distance, James can see a few kids walking towards the playground. As they approach, he realizes it's Carlos with a couple of his stoner-friends. The park is where they meet up to do their drug-deals.

Jo sees them too. Carlos and his friends are laughing loudly at something. They stop when they notice James and Jo sitting at the top of the slide.

"Well, what do we have here? Princess Prude and Pretty-boy Diamond?" Wayne calls up to them with a smirk on his face. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got some business to take care of. So if you could kindly fuck off…"

James swings his legs around pushes himself up, taking three big steps down the yellow slide, marching over to Wayne until he's right up in his face. James pushes him in the chest just hard enough to make him take a step back.

"I'm pretty sure we were here first, Dooley. So maybe you're the one who needs to fuck off."

James has easily got four inches on Wayne, but this doesn't seem to bother the shorter boy, because he's not backing down.

"Piss off, Diamond. Don't you have to get home to Mommy anyway? Got some new makeup products to test out?"

Snap.

James punches Wayne across the jaw, hard enough to knock him to the ground, but it's only a second before he's back up, launching himself at James in a full-on brawl. They're both landing hits left and right—James has a split lip already and Wayne's eye is swelling shut—and they don't know how long it goes on but finally Andy is pulling Wayne away and Carlos shoves James backward, pleading with his eyes for James to chill out. Wayne's struggling against Andy's grip, but he's worn out and Andy's hold is firm.

"Breathe, James." Carlos says it almost imperceptibly, but James hears it, sees the words come out of his roommate's mouth.

Breathe in. One. Two. Three. Breathe out. Four. Five. Six. Breathe in. Seven. Eight. Nine. Breathe out. Ten.

By this time Jo is cautiously approaching the scene, having descended from her perch at the top of the jungle gym. She pulls James away from Carlos, who goes back towards Wayne and Andy, glancing over his shoulder at the pair as he moves. She looks concerned and, it pains him to see it, frightened. He doesn't want her to be scared of him.

"Please don't tell anyone."

"Jo—"

"Promise me!"

"Okay," he relents. "But you can't keep it inside forever."

"I'm not ready," she says. "Not yet."


He tries to enter the house quietly, but his efforts are to no avail since his mother is waiting for him in the living room.

"James David, where on earth have you been?"

"Mom! I—"

"What happened to your face?" She screeches.

James cringes. He must look like hell. His mother takes his wrist and drags him to the nearby bathroom, dabbing ointments on his face and cleaning him up, muttering something about not letting the injury scar.

"Do not tell me you've been in another fight!"

James looks down ashamedly.

"What are we sending you therapy for? It's supposed to stop you from getting into trouble and lately it seems like you've been worse than ever! What are we going to do with you, James David?"

"I don't know," he mumbles.

"You don't know." His mother sighs, rubbing circles into her temples, looking like she's trying to ward off a migraine. "Just go to your room. I don't want to look at you right now."

James slams the door to his room and throws his backpack down, aiming a hard kick at his dresser, causing a photo-frame and a couple of other trinkets to topple over. This frustrates him further so in a single swipe, he shoves everything on top of it to the floor, not caring about the mess that he'll have to clean up later.


Focus on breathing. Count to ten.

That's supposed to be what gets me through it when I feel myself getting out of control. Like it's this magic remedy that'll suddenly make me realize I don't have to get violent every time I get mad. As if I do it on purpose.

If Carlos hadn't shoved me away I don't know what I would've done to Wayne. He's lucky I didn't break his damn nose back there. It was the look on Carlos' face that got me, though. Not the breathing. I'm sick of people being scared of me. I'm sick of being looked at like I'm a loose cannon. Careful there—he might blow. I don't want to be that guy. Feels like lately there are a lot of things I don't want to be.

And Jo. If I hadn't lost it in the park, she might have told me more. She might have let me help her. Instead I just scared her off and now she might never open up to anyone again, and I am not equipped to be the one to get her through it. I have my own shit to deal with.

Wow, Diamond. You are one selfish bastard, aren't you?

Yeah. I guess I am.


Whew. Made it through this one. Sorry it's up later than usual, but it's still Tuesday so count it!

Thank you as always to my lovely reviewers and hello to my new Alerts and Favorites! Please please let me know what you think—what you like, what you don't like, what you think will happen! Anything's welcome! And don't forget to check out wintershine(dot)tumblr(dot)com for sneak peeks posted every Sunday and other random updates throughout the week while I write!

Love you all!