"Allie... where are you going?"

I paused, my hand curled around the door handle, grimacing. Of course Paul would catch me the one time I tried sneaking out. Dressed completely in black, I didn't doubt I looked awfully suspicious. Still, I tried for the innocent approach. Turning to face him, I batted my eyelashes. "Uh, work?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's not your uniform."

"Out."

"To play ninja?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"You're going to spy on Elliot, aren't you?" he accused. "It's almost the restaurant's closing time and you were going to follow him after he left."

Crossing my arms, I stood a little taller. "You planning on stopping me?"

"I told you—"

"I don't care," I interjected. "He's my friend. I'm not going to let him get the crap beat out of him!"

Paul gave me an exasperated look. "By getting yourself mixed up as well?"

"I'm not—"

"You should be practicing. The contest is in four days, Allie."

Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I waved him off. The contest could wait. Elliot was more important, anyway. "I'll be careful, okay? Don't worry."

"How can I not?" he grumbled, pulling his overcoat from off the coat hook and shrugging it on.

"What are you doing?"

"Coming with you."

My eyes widened. "What? No!"

"Why not?" he challenged, buttoning the black jacket up. "It's safer if I come with you."

"It'll be more suspicious!"

"Hey, I can play ninja, too."

"Paul—"

His eyes lit up wickedly. "Either you let me accompany you, or I'll call your parents."

I scowled at him. "That's not fair." And although my dad would probably encourage me, my mom would literally drive up here and tie me to a chair to keep me from going anywhere.

"Those are your choices."

After a short glowering match, I finally sighed. "You know what? Fine. But if we run into danger and you get punched, don't come crying to me."

"Sure," he responded, grinning widely. After he pulled on some gloves, he opened the door and gestured for me to go out. "Ladies first."

As soon as we stepped outside I wished I'd grabbed gloves as well. December was an unforgiving month. The frigid night air bit at my exposed skin and I pulled my scarf a little tighter around my neck, wishing that my cardigan had pockets. I'd dressed to be stealthy, not warm. Though I should've dressed for both. Paul seemed perfectly content as we made our way to the diner. He was even whistling under his breath.

Elliot's car wasn't in the parking lot, which, fortunately, meant he'd walked to work. By this point I was shivering and could barely stop myself from entering the diner's warmth, but that would ruin the whole plan.

I hadn't managed to get any new information out of Elliot over the past two days. Every time I asked him about the fight, he brushed me off, or changed the topic. It was frustrating. I just wanted to know why he suddenly got into a fight, after managing to stay out of them for the past few months.

"Allie... you're shivering like a quaking willow," Paul commented quietly, nearly startling me.

"Nice comparison," I muttered dryly, straightening out my back to keep my shivers under control. "It's cold."

"You should have dressed warmer."

I spared him a brief glance. "I'm fine."

"At least give me your hands," he bargained.

"My hands?" I echoed.

He nodded, gesturing for my to put my hands out. I did, and he took them between his gloved hands. "There. Now you'll feel warmer."

Well, my cheeks certainly felt warmer. I tried to pull my hands back, but Paul held onto them tighter. "Paul, I'm okay—"

"Uh-huh," he said, cutting me off. "That's why you're shaking."

"W-whatever," I mumbled, turning my head away from him, but keeping my hands in his warm hold.

Over the next five minutes, I found myself shuffling closer to Paul, wanting to steal his body heat. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the diner because I didn't want to see the smug look on his face. Finally, Elliot emerged, wearing a dark hoodie. He immediately set out and I grabbed Paul's hand, tugging him along with me as I followed after Elliot.

It only took me about two minutes to realize that Elliot wasn't headed toward his house. He lived to the East and we were heading toward the West. I quickened my pace to keep up with him, gripping tightly onto Paul's hand to make sure I wouldn't lose him. Luckily, Paul treaded as light as I did, so we didn't make much noise as we dogged Elliot. Either that or Elliot was completely oblivious to what was going on around him.

"Where is he going?" I whispered to myself as he slipped into an alley between a convenience store and liquor store.

"Not somewhere good," came a reply from Paul. "Come on, we can't let him out of our sight."

"I thought you weren't interested."

Paul frowned at me. "If he's in danger, I'm not going to stand around and let anything happen to him. Now come on." This time he took the lead, tugging on my hand and making me tail behind him.

The ally led to a backstreet, where we could only see Elliot when he passed under a streetlamp. It was pitch black, thanks to the starless sky. Paul gripped my hand a little tighter, making sure to avoid the light. Elliot turned into another alley and we quickly hurried after him, entering another dark patch. My heart began to beat a little faster in my chest as my imagination ran wild about what things could be hidden in this blackness. Suddenly I was glad Paul was with me.

Eventually we came to the old middle school in town. Elliot went straight to the back of the building. After exchanging a quick look with Paul, we both nodded, slipping around the corner, keeping our backs nearly against the brick wall. There was barely any light in the back, except for the few rays that came from the neighboring street.

However, you could clearly make out the three silhouettes awaiting Elliot. My breath caught in my throat and Paul quickly yanked me backwards, pressing my back into the brick. I opened my mouth to speak, but Paul's hand covered it, muffling my words.

"Any new news for us, Elliot?" one of the figures asked.

Elliot stopped a few feet away from them, stiff as a board. "No."

"Have you even been trying?"

There was a pause. "No."

"Remember last time you didn't try?"

"Not really. You guys don't leave too much of an impression."

The unnamed speaker chuckled. "This time we'll just have to do a better job. We aren't asking much of you, Elliot."

"How much are you being paid for this?" Elliot demanded. "I'll pay double to stop."

"Tempting, but I doubt you could afford that," another one of the other men said. "If you would just do what we're telling you to, this wouldn't have to happen."

Elliot shrugged. "You can break my hands, I don't care if I can't play, but Allie has a chance of winning contest, so I'm not going to keep her from doing it."

My ears perked up at the mention of my name. I glanced at Paul, startled. The fact that he wasn't startled disturbed me.

Then it hit me. Paul knew. He knew why Elliot got in a fight the other night. Because someone wanted me out of the competition.

And it wasn't that hard to deduce who that person was.

"We could break her hands."

Suddenly Elliot moved forward, grabbing the first speaker by the front of his shirt. "Don't touch her."

A rush of affection for Elliot washed over me.

"How cute. So protective," the guy snickered. "But you're wrinkling my shirt, so I'll have to ask you to let go."

Elliot did let go, but shoved the other man backward in the process. "Yeah, wouldn't want to wrinkle your three dollar shirt."

I grinned. Elliot sure knew how to add fuel to the fire. Which should be a bad thing, but it was pretty funny.

"What'd you say?"

"I said, why don't you run back to your bitch and tell her that instead of trying to force people to drop out of the competition, she should try to actually become a good pianist."

Before I could blink, the guy punched Elliot straight in the stomach. I jolted forward, but Paul yanked me back. "No," he hissed.

"Let go," I snapped back at him, prying my wrist free from his grasp, and then before he could snatch it again, I threw myself forward, at Elliot's assailant. Using all the force I could gather, I threw a punch at his face.

It was a pretty impressive punch. His head jerked to the side and he lost his balance, but I wasn't sure whether the punch hurt him or me more. I cradled my hand to my chest, holding back a groan. "Don't punch my friend," I gritted out after a moment.

Elliot's eyes widened as he took me in. "Allie, what are you— watch out!"

Before a different man could get me, Paul blocked it, aiming a perfect hit to the guy's solar plexus, sending him to his knees and into a coughing fit. "Don't turn your back on them, Allie," he warned me.

"What are you two doing here?" Elliot demanded, keeping his eye on the last man who hadn't made his move yet.

The first guy, who I realized had blonde hair now that he was under the light, was regaining his senses. "Back up?" I joked, trying to seem braver than I felt. If my dad knew about this, he'd have a field day. His little girl, fighting like he pretended to do when he was younger...

"We need to run," Paul murmured, keeping his eyes on the third man who hadn't moved forward yet. "We shouldn't fight."

I nodded, moving toward Elliot. "You have a lot of explaining to do, mister," I scolded him.

He narrowed his eyes. "About what? Why did you follow me?"

"To see why you got in that last fight! Obviously it was something, and apparently that something is Olivia—"

"It's none of your business," Elliot snapped.

"Oh, right, because them wanting you to talk me out of playing in the competition isn't involving me—"

Paul suddenly cried out and I whipped my attention to him, noticing the blonde had got him while he was focused the third man. I bolted forward, lunging myself on the blonde's back, knocking us both to the cement. Unfortunately, since I only weighed around one-hundred and ten pounds, I couldn't keep him down. He shoved me off easily and I quickly scrambled to my feet, raising my hands defensively. "Listen, I don't want to— woah!" I cried, ducking as he swung out a fist.

"If I break your hands here, my job will be finished," the blonde growled.

"Just ignore Olivia!" I cried, stepping back to avoid another swing.

The guy smirked. "So you heard? Good. Things will be a lot easier if you just drop out."

I shook my head, trying not to roll my eyes. "Jesus, it's like she watched some stupid soap opera and stole all these ideas from that. People don't actually do this!"

"Apparently, they do," the blonde responded, and a flash of metal met the corner of my gaze. A switchblade. Of course.

"Leave her out of it," Elliot snapped, appearing beside me before I could blink and pushing me back.

For a brief second I was offended, and then I remembered I couldn't fight for shit, and this guy was double my size, so I'd have no choice anyway. Especially since he had a knife... but still. Elliot was in no fighting state of being. His wounds from last time hadn't healed.

The blonde swung out at Elliot, and Elliot avoided it easily, throwing a retaliating punch and landing it squarely on the jaw. I stared at him, slightly surprised. Of course, I shouldn't be, but watching Elliot fight was kind of incredible. And when I glanced behind me, Paul was easily defending himself from the third man. The second was still on the ground, coughing. Which left me to plan out our escape. I glanced around, figuring it would be best to run, but unsure which would be the best way. They would obviously chase after us.

A diversion would work best. Should I feign calling the police?

"Allie—"

Before I could register what happened, I was on the ground again, my hand protesting in pain as I landed on it awkwardly. Then the next second there was pain in my other hand as it was stepped on. I pressed my lips together, refusing to make a sound. Seconds later, before I could even begin to struggle, the pressure was gone, Paul shoving the blonde off me.

"It's rude to hit a girl," Paul snapped, kicking the man roughly in the side. Then he held out his hand to me, yanking me to my feet. I grimaced a little, my hand throbbing painfully. "Let's run—"

"You guys run, I'll stay and be a diversion," I told him.

Paul stared at me flatly. "No."

"But—"

"Don't be stupid." Paul suddenly yanked me to the side, moving me out of the way of the blonde who just wouldn't give up.

"I'm not—"

"You're trying to be brave. Brave is just another word for stupid," he cut me off, tugging on my hand. "And I'm not leaving you here. Your parents would kill me."

Figuring Paul wasn't going to give up, I did what I could do second best. "Oh my god!" I screamed, pointing toward the school building. As soon as the blonde turned to look, I closed my hand tightly around Paul's and sprinted toward Elliot, snatching the edge of his coat and bolting toward the front of the school building.

"Hey!" I heard someone call after us, but I didn't bother to stop to see who it was.

"Let go!" Elliot demanded, struggling to free his shirt from my grasp.

"No," I said. "If I do, you'll go back."

"I can't leave a fight like that!"

Paul snorted. "That's not a fight, it's an ambush."

Not sure if the guys were following us, I didn't stop running until we were in front of the diner again. I let go of the guys and fell to my hands and knees, panting heavily. Running was never my strong suit... actually, anything active wasn't my strong point. I hated physical activity.

"We should tell the principal," I said when I finally caught my breath back, climbing back to my feet.

"No," Elliot growled immediately.

Paul's expression under the dim streetlight was hesitant. "Elliot, this is pretty serious."

"I said no. It's not your problem, it's mine."

"You're doing it for me, so it's my problem too," I snapped at him.

"And if it's my student's problem, it's my problem too. And both of you are my students, so even more of a reason," Paul pointed out.

Elliot hunched his shoulders. "No."

Frowning, I grabbed his sleeve. "Elliot, we're your friends. You don't have to deal with this by yourself."

"I..." He muttered something under his breath, turning his head away from me.

I raised an eyebrow. "What? I can't hear you if you mutter."

"I said... never mind!"

"Elliot, are you embarrassed—"

"No," he interjected quickly, scowling at me. "It's none of your business."

A smirk was slowly spread on my face. "Oh, I get it. You don't want me involved because you don't want me hurt, right?"

"I— I didn't say that," Elliot mumbled, crossing his arms.

Paul smiled at him. "You're a good friend, aren't you?"

"Shut up."

I grinned. "I always knew I made the right choice in befriending you. But Elliot, I'm not letting you... oh."

"Oh?" Paul echoed.

"I'm going to do what Olivia wants. That would solve everything, wouldn't?"

Elliot did a double take. "What? No. You're not dropping out!"

"I won't drop out," I told him, rolling my eyes. "I'm still going to win that contest and get a car."

"Is that why you're doing this?" Paul asked, bemused. "Not because you want to be recognized?"

I flushed a little. "It's not... that's not the point. We'll just spread the rumor around that I'm not playing, right? And then I'll show up, show her up, and win the cash money."

"How do we spread the rumor around without look suspicious?" Elliot questioned, not looking convinced.

I pointed at Paul. "He's going to tell me I can't play."

"I am?"

"Yes, because I punched Elliot." Both men stared at me. I sighed. "What? It's believable. Elliot's already bruised. My hand is definitely going to be bruised. It fits."

Paul hesitated a few more moments before nodding reluctantly. "Okay, fine. Make me look like a jerk."

"No one likes me in that class anyway."

"That's not true," Paul protested. "Elliot likes you."

I grinned. "Oh yeah, him."

Elliot grunted. "Whatever. You better still play."

"I will. I haven't practiced for nothing. And it's only in three days, we can keep up the farce for that long easily, right?"

"Right," Paul agreed. "Now let's go home. Elliot do you want me to give you a ride?"

He shook his head. "I can walk."

"Are you going to go straight home?"

"Yes, Mom."

"You'd better," Paul warned him. "Be careful."

Elliot waved him off, striding away from us before I could tell him goodbye. After exchanging a small smile with Paul, we headed off back to his place. It was a relief to be back in the warm air once we were inside. I yawned loudly, stretching dramatically. "Nothing like a good fight to tire you out."

"Well you're not going to bed yet," Paul said, snatching my elbow and dragging me into the kitchen. "You're icing your hand. Let me see it." He gently pulled my right hand into his, frowning at the swelling of my knuckles. "You must pack a hard punch..."

I shrugged. "My dad taught me how to punch. And you know his gang stories. Surprisingly he's a good fighter. Must've studied."

Paul pursed his lips. "You still shouldn't throw yourself into fights like that."

"Elliot was—"

"I understand," he interjected quickly. "And that's admirable, but you have to be concerned about yourself too. What would you do if something happened to you?"

I dropped my gaze to the floor. "Since it's me, it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," he responded firmly. "I don't want to see you get hurt. Promise me you'll be careful from here on out."

I blinked, my eyes meeting his green orbs. "I promise... but I don't plan on getting into any more fights."

His face relaxed and he chuckled. "Me either... man, I haven't punched anyone like that since I boxed when I was seventeen."

"You boxed?" I asked, surprised.

"In secret. My piano teacher would have had a heart attack if he knew what I was doing. Precious hands and what not." As he said this, he held up my hand. "Speaking of which, I'll get you some ice."

I took my hand back as he went over to the freezer. "Thanks."

"It's no problem. I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Are you really just entering this contest for the prize money?"

I blushed a little bit, quickly adverting my gaze. "Kind of... I mean, I love playing the piano, but I don't care if I'm famous or not. I play because I want to. So being able to play for money to buy a car is just a perfect situation."

"And if you win and go to nationals?"

"Then I go and try my best."

After putting the ice in a plastic baggy and wrapping a paper towel around it, he gave it to me, smiling brightly. "Well, I hope you win both. It'd be nice to have a duet partner as cute as you."

"A what?" I echoed, too focused on the duet partner bit to register the complement.

"You don't pay attention to the news much, do you?"

"I'm looking for a duet partner," he told me. "And I figured it'd be great if I got someone just entering the pianist world. So it'd be great if it was you."

I stared at him. "You want me?"

"You're the best I know."

"There's no way I'm good enough to be your equal—"

Paul laughed, ruffling my hair. "You underestimate yourself. Even if you don't believe it, I believe it. I think you're amazing, Allie. Finish icing your hand and then go to bed, we have a full day of practicing tomorrow."

Barely being able to contain my blush, I nodded mutely. Sometimes when Paul spoke so bluntly, my heart beat so fast I was surprised he couldn't hear it. He was the amazing one.

_________________

What's this? An update? I thought it would never come! I apologize, I've been busy. The past two weeks my lovely english friend has been here, and I've been around her and the friend that she's staying with the like entire time. Only going home at night to sleep. But Millie is leaving tomorrow (boo ):) and I'll have a lot more free time, so it definitely won't take that long again haha. Pelase enjoy!