I leave earlier than I would have to, mostly to get rid of Nicolás—to get Nicolás rid of me. I've pulled my hair into a bun and hid it under a beanie to deal with later.

Temperatures have dropped again and my breaths float out as sullen spectres. The sun, a rotten fruit at the horizon, bashed open for gnats, watched from the school roof.

Eyes stitch to me as soon as I'm at a recognisable distance. More attach the closer I get. Even parents in their cars turn to look. I sulk through the gates, fidgeting with the matchbox in my pocket, and fight the urge to get high.

Someone shoves me from behind and I stumble. Saadia throws me a glare over her shoulder as she strides toward the front doors. 'Thanks for nearly killing all of us, you freak!'

Milli's glance is one of terror. 'How is he even allowed back here? They should be in prison. For arson.'

Well, there goes any hope of people not finding out.

If they weren't all looking already, they certainly are now. My feet freeze onto the paving stones as the school forecourt stretches and stretches, the doors get further and further away.

'Psycho!' someone yells. A glob of sleet splats on the side of my head. The slush gets in my ear and my body convulses.

Lovely. Just fucking perfect. Deathtobeewolf is a subject of interest and now I am too. Won't take long for people to connect the dots.

I'm wiping my face with my sleeve when Sakda emerges from the smoking hall with Adio and smirks. I'd've thought he'd be disappointed that I didn't get expelled but maybe seeing me become subject to even more hatred is the world's greatest reward for him. Next time I drown, no one will care.

'Don't look so sad,' he says in passing. 'You must be used to no one wanting you around by now.'

I stare at the back of his head and fantasise about smashing it through the glass doors as he enters. Just as I'm sure every other person in the school currently fantasises doing to me.

One glare is harsher than the rest of the crowd.

I meet it with a familiar glint of amber. Diwa must read my mind because she leaps off the bench where she's been waiting and sets off toward me just as I reorient my path from the main doors to enter the building through a side staircase instead.

She catches me just as I grip the door handle. Palm flat at the centre of the glass, she keeps the door shut. On any normal day, the act would be symbolic only but I still can't feel most of my body which grants her the physical advantage too.

'Why the fuck would you confess?'

'You'll wanna survey the people but the consensus seems to be that I'm a psycho.'

I go to open the door again but she shoves me back.

Flames burst up my neck. Flog my temples. 'What the fuck do you want?'

I glance across the forecourt. Everyone dragging out their final minutes before form is watching. I can't see due to the glare but I could bet a low sum of money that people are gathered at the windows too.

Everyone wants to see me crack, watch me kill her or summat.

Like, fuck, I don't like her but I don't want her dead–!

My neck spasms. You're lying, Beewolf seethes. You know I don't like it when you lie.

Blood spurts out of Diwa's neck. Her throat has been torn out and the flood of iron on my tongue declares me guilty. Her body sways with the echo of life before she collapses into a puddle of her own blood.

This is what you want, deep down. You think about it all the time.

I shake my head as if it'll reset my brain to one that functions normally.

Diwa's aggravation is sharp enough to shred every alternate reality where she dies. For once, I'm grateful for the vulture. Every word that leaves her teeth is drenched in industrial bleach solutions, fully intended to leave my skin in blisters.

'Oh, poor you. Are you embarrassed to be seen with me in public? Unfortunately, I couldn't give less of a fuck. Why would you confess when you didn't do owt?'

My lips stretch and crack. Laughter barbs into my voice. 'Don't whinge about it, I didn't get expelled. Your maths olympiad qualification is intact.'

Her eyes slit as narrow as the edge of a blade. 'That's not what this is about.'

Sure. Cause I'm meant to believe this is what?

'If you would be so kind,' I say, 'could you please be so gracious and let me inside. I would like to get to lessons on time so I don't get expelled.'

For a second, I make the mistake of thinking that her life purpose isn't to do my fucking head in. But then she pulls summat from her pocket.

'You don't want this back?'

My lighter. I go to seize it but Diwa jerks her hand back.

'Very mature,' I mock. 'You are insufferable, d'you know that? Just leave me alone.'

I yank the door open and Diwa stumbles. I don't linger to check whether she falls as I stride up the narrow staircase. I can't be late. I've not got time for whatever lecture she rehearsed last night.

Diwa will do her darn best to drill it into my skull though. She steps on my heel and my shoe comes off, forcing me to stop and fix it.

'What was that?'

'What was what?'

'You know what!'

Her burning eyes staple into mine, equally aflame, though when I realise it's hurt, not anger, that feeds her fire, mine dies out. The flames sag from my shoulders and slither to my gut where they swirl, waking the maggots from their rest.

Silence stretches on, disturbed only by our heavy breathing. The noise multiples in the deserted stairwell until a thunderstorm brews above our heads. My clothes chafe against my skin.

Beewolf commands an army of termites at his command that set to work undoing my skeleton at once. If you actually cared about her, you'd make sure she never speaks to you again.

Diwa wraps her arms around herself. And when she speaks, her whisper is dragged out of her throat like barbed wire. 'You tried to... burn yourself.'

I arch an eyebrow. 'I have no clue what you're talking about.'

'Yes, you do.' Diwa brandishes the lighter again. 'You were going to burn yourself.'

'I think the panic made you a bit delirious cause only thing I've tried to burn is this school.'

She ignores me, eyes transfixed to my hands. 'Is that how you got those?'

I show my palms to her, rough from scarring. I got the first hit from sealing my hand against Mrs Harland's iron. I've tried to balance out the left palm since then but a lighter leaves a much shoddier result.

'No. I got these from Devil worship.'

Let us pray.

I turn and continue my climb but Diwa remains on my heels. 'This is serious. You need to see a doctor.'

'Like fuck.'

'If you don't, I'll... I'll tell your bother.'

'Once a grass, always a grass, eh?'

Three steps from the second floor, I stop. My eyes lock with hers. The yellow flame flickers in them, a wrestle between fury and fear, a fight I'm more than familiar with though right now I'm calm. Emotions have once again decided to go on holiday or summat cause they're certainly nowhere in me anymore.

What if you throw her down the stairs? What if you throw yourself down the stairs? It's what you deserve. Jump.

Jump–!

'Go ahead,' I say, between speech and whisper. 'Tell my brother. Like he don't know.'

Diwa don't give in even when her final bargaining chip turns out worthless. 'Cece, this–'

'Listen, I understand you're trying to be a good team captain cause it'll look good on your CV or whatever but don't waste your time. I wear everyone down eventually—it's my only talent.'

I descend a step to stand on the same as Diwa. Toying with time, I brush drops of water off her shoulder before meeting her eyes again.

'You let me come to your maths competition. I'll make sure you win. Don't make it out to be more than that.'

Notes

Whinge: Complain, whine.

Grass: Snitch.