I get jolted awake suddenly by a penetrating shrill voice. I lift my head off of my desk groggily. "Huh?"

Ms Phillips' frowning face looks down at me. For god's sake, she looked like a demon spawn that had crawled out of the lowest circle of hell to scare any young people who crossed paths with her. "I hope this isn't going to become a habit, Lenore," she says.

I nod halfheartedly. That really depends on how long this uncontrollable vampire crap goes on for. "I had a long night," I argue. "I'm not a robot for god's sake."

She squints at me. Jesus Christ. The woman looked like she was about to freaking rip my head off. "Do you think that in the real world you'll be able to fall asleep at work?"

I groan and bury my face in my hands, trying to blink out the tiredness. I open my mouth to say something that is - let's face it - probably going to be extraordinarily cute and witty but someone else beats me to it.

"She would've taken a day off but her aunt didn't let her," Brett says. "That's not her fault." shoot him a questioning look. He smiles and takes my hand under the desk.

The teacher raises her eyebrows. "And why should you know this, Mr Talbot?"

Brett grins a lopsided smile. "I gave her an amazing night last night," he says. "And she probably didn't get any sleep between the amazing sex."

The teacher is speechless. She opens her mouth and closes it multiple times like she's scrambling to grasp the right words. I roll my eyes at Brett. "Stop lying, you cocky bastard," I say. "It's going to have to take a lot more than a brilliantly timed kiss to get into my pants."

His lips upturn into an amused smirk. "Oh, really? I'd have any bet that you're willing to bang me in the girl's bathroom during school today."

"Go watch whatever porn it is you boys watch and go masturbate to that," I snap. "You're not getting any of this."

Ms Phillips is in a state of severe disapproval. "You will not speak like that in my classroom," she declares. "Both of you to the principal's office."

I sigh and pick myself up, strolling out of the classroom with Brett on my heels. "You know, she's no fun," I say, dragging myself to the principal's office. "I would like to meet her kids. They're probably those types of kids with purity rings who've been sheltered all their lives and jump at the chance to snitch about you to the teachers. I would so fight them."

"I'd love to see that," he says. He plops down into one of the seats outside of the principal's office. I sink into the seat next to him.

"Are you nervous for your game?" I ask, leaning onto my hand.

He puffs out a chuckle. "Me? No, of course not. When have I ever had any actual competition?"

I smile. "I've said it once and I'll say it again. You are the cockiest little shit ever."

"Mhm, but you love it." He gives me a light peck on the lips and I feel butterflies flutter in my stomach. "Are you coming tomorrow?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Of course I will," I say.

He clutches my hand. "Just be careful, alright? Remember what happened last time we were in Beacon Hills."

I bite my lip. "About that," I say. "Have you had any more assassination attempts?"

"No," he says bluntly. "You?"

I run a hand through my hair. "Someone shot an arrow at me outside Devenford Mental Facility. Do you think there's assassins in Devenford now?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Oh, wow. Are you okay?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

He smiles slightly. "I mean mentally. Are you doing alright?"

I grin. "I already have a psychiatrist, Dr Talbot."

He tips his head back and laughs, his hair bouncing along with his head. "Is that some kinky roleplay name?"

"Totally," I confirm.

It's about ten minutes later when the principal calls us in to his office. I take a seat beside Brett. Our principal is a middle aged man who hardly smiles and has a head full of grey hair and frown lines. He stares condescendingly at us.

"Brett, can you please tell me what happened?" he asks.

Brett clears his throat and begins. "Lenore fell asleep in class and I said it was because we had sex last night. Sir," he adds as an afterthought.

The principal claps his hands together. "Oh, Brett, what will I do with you? A great student, the lacrosse captain, but you just seem to be getting in with the wrong crowds." He side eyes me. I lean back into my seat.

"Oh, no," Brett replies. "It was me, not Lenore. I was trying to make a joke about her having sex with me and she shut me down."

The principal waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I understand. You're a teenage boy, Brett, but this behaviour isn't tolerated in our school community. A detention tomorrow will suffice for you. Considering how much you do for this school, it would be wrong to penalise you further than that."

Brett nods. "Thank you, sir. I won't do it again," Brett says. "What about Lenore?"

The principal sighs. "Ah, Lenore. What stood out about you when you enrolled here was your intelligence. Since then, you have proven yourself to be quite a difficult student socially. Your teachers have made a note about the offensive remarks you deal out." He looks at me like he expects me to say something.

I shrug. "That's just me, I guess."

The principal clasps his hands together on top of the desk. "That's not an excuse," he says. "I have to admit, though, I'm surprised at how inappropriately sexually suggestive you were towards Brett. You distracted him of his learning and that crosses the line for me."

I furrow my eyebrows. "I'm sorry, what? Me? Distracting Brett?"

"Well, yes," the principal says. "Those comments were sexually explicit and were definitely suggestive toward Brett."

I cock an eyebrow. "He literally asked me to bang him in the girl's bathroom, and I'm the one in trouble?"

"You encouraged that behaviour, Lenore," he says.

Brett puffs out a breath that whistles through his teeth. "Look, sir, it was all me. Lenore wasn't being sexually suggestive or whatever. I'm sorry."

The principal sighs. "You know you're one of our best students, Brett. If you want to take blame then sure. You're both off on a warning. Next time it's a week of detentions."

I lift my mouth into a fake smile and say, "Thank you, sir." I walk out of the room with my anger about to explode with each step. As soon as we're out of there, I make a point of offering my conclusion on the whole thing. "God, that sexist pig!"

"Well, I don't know about that, Lenore. You telling me to stop sure did distract me," he says, his voice laced with sarcasm. I elbow him in the ribs as we stride through the halls.

"I can't believe it," I say. "He thinks I have issues socially. I think I'm perfectly fine."

"Yeah, well..."

"Well what, Brett?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"You can come across as a bit of a sarcastic asshole," he says, pursing his lips.

"Okay, me, an asshole? Coming from you? The king of all assholes?" I ask.

He holds up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Look, all I'm saying is that some people mistake your confidence for bravado."

"Whatever," I mutter. "I think that I'm not going to change for some sexist middle-aged balding man with crooked teeth who finds fulfilment in putting women down," I declare loudly.

"Wow," Brett says without a hint of actual praise in his tone. "Inspiring."

In the afternoon, Brett leaves with his lacrosse team. He plants a kiss on my cheek and tells me to text him when I get to the school. I hop into my car with Wesley already seated in shotgun and anticipating how great the lacrosse game is going to be.

"You don't understand, Lenore. They're hot. And by hot, I mean hot. I once went on a date with a dude from there. Danny his name was," he says wistfully. "I think of him as the one that got away."

I stick the key in the ignition and twist it. The engine sparks to life. "Okay, yeah, yeah, we get it. Hot guys. Ex lovers. Just another in that long list."

"Oh, yeah," he says. "I forgot you had Brett. You're taken, though, not dead, Lenore. You can still admire the beauty from afar."

"Whatever you say, Wes."

About an hour later, in thick traffic and stuck in a hot car behind Brett's bus, I come to the conclusion that I hate the highway to Beacon Hills. "It's so hot that I want to die," I groan, slumping back into my seat. I wipe the sweat off of my forehead with the back of my hand.

"Thank you for that," Wesley says. "I totally didn't know."

"Ugh," I say in response. "I'm all sweaty and gross."

"I know right," Wesley says. "I wonder how the lacrosse team is coping. They were already hot enough to begin with, to be honest." Wesley rambles on about the team a bit longer before going into total Eichen House mode and starts talking to himself. "Think happy thoughts, Wes," he says to himself, his eyes shut and his face slick with sweat. "Think about the lacrosse team taking off their shirts in that hot bus. Yes, think about that. Already starting to feel better."

I quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're talking to yourself now," I state.

"I know," he says.

Oh, god, I think. This is going to be a long car trip.

Sometime later, the traffic begins to roll along and we're on our way to Beacon Hills High School. We have to stop a few times along the way since Wesley needs chicken nuggets from every MacDonalds we pass. "We're going to eat at the game," I sigh.

He furrows his eyebrows. "So? I'm hungry now. You sound like my mom."

I roll my eyes and pull into the drive through for the third time.

After Wesley is content with his chicken nuggets, we get on the road again. We arrive at the school just after the bus. Brett emerges from the bus with a few of his lacrosse buddies. I furrow my eyebrows as a short boy with light brown hair and blue eyes steps forward. He looks muscular, but Brett is still intimidatingly tall to probably surpass him.

"I just wanted to say..." the boy says through heavy breaths. He's trying really hard not to lash out, I realise. "Have a good game," he finally concludes. Liam, I think. The guy that Brett hates.

Brett laughs coldly. "That's cute, Liam," he snipes. "Is that what they told you to say in Anger Management? Apologise and everything's okay? You demolished coach's car!"

"Oh, my god," I mutter.

"Jesus, I thought he was a changed man," Wesley says. I take a step forward. "Wait, what are you - oh, okay, whatever. I'm just going to stay over here where I can't get in the middle of a fight."

"I paid for it," Liam says.

"Yeah, you're going to pay for it," Brett says. "We're going to break you in half out there. And it's gonna be all your fault."

I shoulder my way through the lacrosse players and come out of the thick of it beside Brett. I intertwine my fingers with his and he widens his eyes. "Brett, stop being a dick," I say blankly. I turn to a very confused Liam. "Sorry about him. He's got a tendency to be a little bit of an...arrogant asshole."

"Lenore," Brett growls. "He's the one being an asshole."

"Oh, yes. 'Wah wah, he destroyed my coach's car, now I have to destroy him to make myself feel better. Blah, blah, blah.' Come on, Brett. You're throwing a tantrum."

"Hey, what's going on prep students?" another Beacon Hills guy says. "Welcome to our little public high school." He holds out a hand to Brett. "How you doing? Stiles." The fuck kind of name is Stiles? Brett grips his hand and shakes it. "That's a firm handshake you go there," Stiles says worryingly.

"We're very excited for the scrimmage tonight," Brett says.

"But let's keep it clean, alright? No rough stuff out there," Stiles says.

Brett purses his lips. "Alright. See you on the field."

Stiles looks over at Liam who seems to be holding in a massive spell of anger. "Go," Stiles says. Liam walks away.

Brett turns to me. "What the hell was that?"

I shrug. "Embarrassing girlfriend. Get over it, tough guy."

His lips raise slightly into a smile but he pulls them into a frown again. Eventually, after giving up in the frown, he breaks into a smile. "You make it so hard to be angry at you," he says. "Stop it."

I smile. "It's not my fault I'm so adorable," I say.

He kisses me and then says, "I have to go to practice. I'll see you before the game, though, right?"

"Of course," I say. "Good luck with training. Don't hurt any innocent people while out there either, yeah?"

He grins. "No promises."

"Brett," I warn.

"No hurting innocent people," he clarifies. "Got it."

After Brett goes off to training, I realise that Wesley is no longer next to my car. I send him a text asking where he is. He calls me back almost immediately.

"Hey, Lenore," he says. "I'm with Leo, but we were planning to go to the cafe on the corner soon. Come with?"

"Third wheeling? Ugh."

"Do you have anything better to do?" he asks. He doesn't wait for an answer. "Meet us in ten."

When I get there, Leo and Wesley pay me no heed as they flirt and cuddle with each other. I go on my phone for most of the time and stalk Brett's Instagram. It's quite boring, actually. Just pictures of parties, lacrosse and stuff. A few tool pictures of him shirtless. No scandals at all.

I can't say I'm disappointed when I have to be on my way to the lacrosse game. "I'm leaving," I say, getting to my feet. "Brett wanted to see me before he went on."

Wesley looks to Leo and then back at me. He smiles slightly. "You go ahead, Lenore. Leo and I just want a little more time to each other."

I roll my eyes. "Adorable," I say blandly. "Text me when you get there."

I drive down the road to Beacon Hills High School - screw walking - and park in one of the dark parking lots at the front of the school. I text Brett to let him know I'm at the school and turn the engine off. I pull my jacket closer to me as a cold breeze washes over me. It's only then that I realise I have no idea where to go.

The only other person in the car park is a girl who looks around the same age as me. She has long dark hair, prominent bone structure, friendly eyes and plump rouge lips that are stretched into a smile. "Okay, okay, Lex. I got it. The lacrosse team is currently in a state of undress," she says into her phone, laughing. "Okay, okay. I'll be right there."

She hangs up her phone and I muster up the courage to ask her for directions. "Um, excuse me," I say softly as I approach her. "I need to get to the lacrosse field. Can you please tell me where it is?" I smile and try to look as approachable as I can.

"Oh, yeah, sure," she says falling into step beside me. "You're in luck. That's where I'm headed right now."

"Thanks," I say, shoving my hands into my pockets.

"I'm Arden, by the way. Arden Caraway." She smiles.

"Lenore," I introduce myself.

"Are you from Devenford?" Arden asks. When she breathes out, her breath comes out in tendrils of vapour.

I bite on my lip. "Yeah," I say timidly.

She waves a hand around. "Relax," she says. "I'm not going to gut you as a sacrifice to the Beacon Hills lacrosse gods. Allow me to let you in on a little secret." She leans in and keeps her voice hushed when she speaks again. "I hate lacrosse."

I feel a giggle bubbling up. "Same," I say. "I'm here for my..." I trail off into uncertainty, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Let me guess," she says, holding up a finger and squinting slightly as if she's struggling to find an answer. "It's complicated."

I shrug. "Uh, yeah, I guess."

She takes a left turn and the path opens up to the lacrosse field. "Here we are," Arden says. Lights blare down onto the field and figures run in all directions across it in the pre-game excitement of it all. It's a hub of energy and everyone seems to be waiting intently for it to begin.

"I gotta go meet my friend, Lex. She's having breathing problems over the half naked boys," she says, giving me a farewell salute.

"See ya," I call after her before she disappears into the thick of the audience on the bleachers. I sigh. People at school always talked about Beacon Hills students like they were ready to jump anyone and everyone from Devenford. At least Arden seemed nice. I make a note to remember to look for her next time it's a Devenford versus Beacon Hills game.

I scan the field for Brett and after eventually meeting eyes with him, I wave to him. He pulls his lacrosse jersey over his head and comes over. "Hey," he says.

"Hey," I say, stuffing my hands in my pockets nervously. "Are you nervous?"

He scoffs. "No," he says nonchalantly.

"Of course not," I say, rolling my eyes. "You're Brett Talbot."

"Brett!" someone yells from the large huddle of lacrosse players clad in dark green jerseys.

He turns around and smiles ruefully. "Sorry," he says. "Gotta go. See ya."

He spins on his heel and begins to walk. "Hey, Brett?" I call after him. He spins around. "Good luck," I yell, cupping my hands over my mouth.

I blow him a kiss and he looks behind his shoulder while mouthing, "Stop being embarrassing." I raise my eyebrows and give him a salute in the form of my middle finger. I catch sight of Wesley and sink into the seat next to him.

"How was your date?" I ask.

He sighs contently. "Amazing. Leo might just be the love of my life. The Romeo to my Juliette. The Peeta to my Katniss. The Shrek to my Fiona."

I hold up a hand and grimace. "Please don't use Shrek references in my presence ever again."

The lacrosse game starts. Brett gets the ball first and passes it to another Devenford player. The advantage doesn't last long, though. A Beacon Hills player - number twenty-four - obtains the ball and sends it shooting to another one of their players. As this goes on, I begin to grow bored.

It's not until Brett and another player collide in midair and come crashing to the ground that I get jolted out of my reverie. Brett groans, clutching at his arm. The other boy shrieks and it's then that I realise that the voice belongs to Liam. Liam's arm is bent at an unnatural angle. Another boy rushes forward to Liam. With a start I realise that it's the boy who was chasing after Sean at the hospital. He grasps the younger boy's arm and snaps it back into alignment with a bloodcurdling crack. Something isn't right here.

Brett is hurled off of the field by teammates and disappears into the building. I get to my feet. "Where are you going?" Wesley asks, grabbing my arm.

I shake his grip off. "I need to go see Brett."

I bound down the bleachers, taking the steps two at a time. I hurry across the field, straining my ears to hear any stirring that might be Brett. And that's when I hear it. Brett is in trouble. I pick up my pace, using my speed to navigate the place quicker. I hurry down the empty corridor, Brett's grunts ringing in my ears.

I push open the door which my sense of hearing led me to. I scan the boy's locker room, but whatever's happening is happening behind the rows of lockers. I pad carefully around the corner and into direct line of Brett.

The girl is insanely beautiful with caramel coloured skin and dark hair. My eyes travel down to Brett, his neck being choked with a red hot wire. He makes a sputtering sound as his eyes light up gold. I flinch at his pain. Her teeth are clenched in a snarl as she pulls harder. She's so focused on killing Brett that she doesn't see me rushing up to her until my hands are locked around her head.

"That's the baddest-bitch-in-Devenford's boyfriend you're choking," I tell her.

And that's when I snap her neck.

Brett doubles over, clutching at his neck and coughing. He gasps for air and I kneel beside him, laying a hand softly on his back. "Brett," I whisper. "It's okay. You're okay."

He nods with a grimace painted across his face. He's still jittery and possessed by unrest. I hold his face in my hands. "Look at me, Brett," I say. "You're okay." His eyes flicker up to mine and then back down, a weak cough passing through his lips. "Brett," I say again. He doesn't respond. So I pull his face down to mine, pressing my lips onto his.

His mouth goes rigid against mine in surprise but then he eases into the kiss, working his lips against mine. His hands slide around my waist and plant themselves firmly on my back. I pull away softly. I furrow my eyebrows when I see he's laughing. "Baddest bitch in Devenford's boyfriend, huh?"

I get to my feet. "It had a nice ring to it, you know."

"I'd be delighted to be your boyfriend."

I widen my eyes at him. I open my mouth to speak but clamp it shut again when I realise I have no idea what to say. "I didn't ask," I say finally.

"You were thinking it."

"No! What?" I ask, brushing it off.

He raises his eyebrows. "Liar."

"I think you're jumping to conclusions."

"I think you're not telling the truth."

I throw my hands in the air as a gesture of surrender. "Okay, fine. Maybe once or twice."

"There we go," he says.

"Look, it was nothing alright. You're hot. You know that. You're very, very hot. And caring and honest and funny and an insanely reliable person." I realise I'm rambling and cup a hand over my mouth.

"I want to kiss you right now."

Oh my fucking god. "That's funny," I say, tilting my head to the side. "I was thinking the same thing."

"No, I mean I want to kiss you. I want to have my hands all over your body, Lenore. I want to feel your lips opening and closing over mine. I want to kiss your neck. Oh, my god. And then I want to rip your fucking clothes off and kiss you everywhere. Everywhere."

I puff out a long breath. "Oh. I never knew you wanted to kiss like that," I stammer. "Oh, god. Okay, okay." I run a hand through my hair. "I, uh, I've never been in this situation before. I'm not sure what happens next."

He sighs and opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off again.

I frown. "I just ruined it, didn't I? Oh, god. I just ruined it. I ruined it." I bury my face in my hands. "I fucking ruined it."

Brett takes my hands away from my face and smiles. "Relax. I wasn't expecting you to do the dirty with me in the grubby Beacon Hills boy's locker room. I just needed to get it out." He pauses. "And when you are ready, I want to do it right. Tell me what you want."

"I, uh..." I cock an eyebrow. "I want to have sex with you? I guess that's all there is to it. I'm not really into the whole chains and whips thing."

"Huh. Your loss." His chuckles turn into coughing and yellowish viscous liquid sputters from his mouth.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Brett? What did she do to you?"

"I'm fine," he says, waving a hand around dismissively. He choked out a croaky cough again and I grab his arm to steady him. It's only when I draw my hand back again that I realise it's covered in blood.

"What the hell, Brett? What is that?"

He grimaces. "It's wolfsbane."

It's only then that I hear the door click open. I raise my head and study the person who has just walked through the door. I part my lips slightly in surprise.

Because whether it's by some mad coincidence or whether it's some gift sent from a god, the person who just walked through the door is the same one who was chasing Sean Walcott at the hospital.