(Song of the chapter: 'Back to You' - Louis Tomlinson & Bebe Rexha)

I bent my knees under me, bracing for impact. This allowed me to land on the ground from the five feet drop without any pain. I still had to stretch my legs out to get rid of the tingles running up them.

"HOLY SHIT!" Brandon exclaimed, running over to the window to look down at me.

"Is she okay?" Came the dry, unconcerned voice of Rhys.

Jasper's head joined Brandon's at the window. "Damn, she's a cat," he remarked with raised brows.

"Hey Sunshine, where are you going? Come back!"

I pumped my legs and started running. The sound of laughter spluttered after me.

"Dude, she's running away!"

I kept on running until I was out of sight. I paused and waited, but I didn't hear any pursuing footsteps. Maybe this charade had finally come to an end, and thank goodness for that. Having people actually want to be around me for no reason other than that - even for a short amount of time - was way too stressful.

I still had thirty minutes to kill before school was over. There was nothing stopping me from just heading home, but instead I decided to walk aimlessly down the halls. I'd never just walked down these halls without being pursued before. The feeling was... nice.

Something caught my eye in the room I passed. I backtracked, taking in my surroundings. I was in the hallway near the school auditorium, where school plays were often held. This part of school held the music, drama and visual arts departments. Evercrest High made sure there were enough classrooms for students studying music to privately practice in their spare time, and I'd just walked right past one.

When I looked inside, I saw a white grand piano at the far-left corner of the room. 

The sight drew me in. I could even hear its sweet, soulful music from where I stood, beckoning to me. Before I knew it, I had walked over to it.

Apprehensive, I stared at the door, worried someone would come in. It is nearly school over though, I thought. If someone was supposed to be in here, they'd be here already. 

Reassured by this logic, I carefully – respectfully –raised the fallboard for a quick peek.

I caught a whiff of the rich scent of mahogany once I revealed the keys. Made from ivory, they spotlessly gleamed, letting me know that this piano was well taken care of.

Oh, what the heck. I gave into temptation and sat down. Might as well, I'd already come this far.

Taking a deep breath, I poised my fingers above the keys, then played a single note.

It sounded clear and properly tuned, as it should. Excited, I happily played more keys which also sounded perfect.

"You sound great, Sandy," I told it affectionately.

"Can I call you Sandy? You look like a Sandy," I mused.

Yes, I know. I'm talking to a grand piano, an obviously inanimate object. But I'm already crazy, so what else is new?

I had intended to just mess around, but my fingers randomly started playing a string of chords which sounded quite familiar. I hummed along as I tried to place them, matching my vocals to the keys.

"Dah dah dah dah dah,"  I sang softly. I closed my eyes, my fingers moving. 

Don't be that way
Fall apart twice a day
I just wish you could feel what you say, my brain filled in the lyrics while my fingers wrote the song with the keys.

Billie Eilish's Idontwannabeyouanymore could literally have been the story of my life. I'd listened to it too often, mostly after days that school had been particularly terrible. I could now recite the entire song down to every last chord and drum beat.

The music surrounded me, flowing from my soul to fill the space. My head bowed while my fingers continued to fly as I surrendered myself to the sensations. 

Not entirely on purpose, the words started pouring out of me. The truth was reflected in my voice, which was filled with a poignant unshakeable sadness. A sadness that had always been there and maybe always will be there. 

It really did feel like I was made from a broken mold.

I launched into the chorus, my voice ringing out clearly, yet delicately, like brittle glass.

I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna be you

"I don't wanna be you... anymore."

My fingers finally stilled. I blew out a breath, then squinted at the keyboard.

Where did that come from? I wondered, confused.

"Remarkable," a gravelly voice whispered from the doorway. 

My head automatically snapped to the side to find I had an audience. Two male figures I hadn't even noticed stood by the door.

I promptly had a mini heart attack. 

"Ahh!"  I jerked in shock, causing me to fall off my seat. 

Lying flat on my back, sprawled gracelessly on the floor, I contemplated the meaning of existence.

"Are you okay?" 

The throaty, old man voice came again, this time filled with concern. I picked myself up with as much dignity as I could muster, then poked my head out sheepishly from behind the piano. They were both staring at me with raised eyebrows.

"I know, I'm not supposed to be here," I squeaked. I stood, arranging myself and hoping for a quick getaway.

"I'm just gonna go now."

"Wait!" The old dude halted, raising a hand. When I paused, he turned to address the figure beside him.

"You can put down those sheet notes over there, Christopher." he directed. My attention snagged on the other person in the room who hadn't yet spoken.

Kit Landon. 

An attractive, well-built male, he stood at 6'0 and had thick brown hair and melt-worthy hazel-green eyes. He was the football team's running-back, and he got good grades, which earned him a place among Jacques' clique and a very good reputation. 

Because of this, no one made fun of him for his musical talents. It actually made him more desirable among the female population.

Unfortunately for them, he was taken.

I'd heard stories about the fights with his on-again, off-again thespian girlfriend, which for some strange reason always occurred in the school cafeteria. I'd quit eating lunch in there a long time ago, so I'd never actually seen one of these fights. 

But from what I heard, they weren't pretty.

I eyed him warily. Kit had never done anything to me - he was actually known as one of the nicer jocks and way humbler than Jacques' egotistical, conceited ass. But he was also the second most-popular guy at school. 

Well, he was. His rank had scooched down a few notches now that the YouTubers were here. 

His association to Jacques made me instantly distrust him.

For now, he did nothing but return my gaze after the set down the materials he'd been told to.

"Young lady," the old man said, making me reluctantly drag my gaze back over to him, "who taught you how to play the piano?"

"Uh," I scratched my head.

"I kinda learned how to play it by playing it. I mean, I did watch a YouTube video or two," I clarified, "but mostly, I kinda figured it out." 

I shrugged. Gavin's headquarters had a room with just a single piano inside. It made me curious, so whenever I got bored from my training, I'd stay in there and just fiddle with it for hours.

The old man gaped at me. 

Wait, that's unfair. He's only like, mid-fifty someth- 

Nah, he's old.

"You taught yourself how to the piano? Are you dyslexic?" he asked, scrutinizing me. His hand rose to fiddle with the leg of his wire rimmed glasses. Unconsciously, I mimicked him.

"No, I just don't really have a life," I replied honestly.

For the first time, I saw a hint of emotion across Kit's face. He seemed a little amused.

"That song you were playing earlier," the old man cleared his throat. "You played it excellently. Were you referring to any sheet music?"

Again, I had to explain how I was sort of a weirdo. 

"Um, no. I just..." I ran my fingers over some keys while I tried to find the words.

"I know how the song sounds," I started over, "and I know how each of the piano keys sound. So I just... put it down on the keys like pen to paper. That's just how I know to do it."

I don't have photographic memory. I actually studied pretty hard to get my good grades. But where music memory was concerned, my memory was impeccable. I could still play all the lyrics and chord progressions of 'Moment 4 Life' by Nicki Minaj though almost a decade had passed.

This was why I sometimes made songs out of my study notes. It was weird, I know, but it worked. I mean, Miley did it in that one episode of Hannah Montana, so there.

"Why don't you take my class?" The music teacher asked. I took my eyes off Kit, who I'd once again been cautiously watching, and back to him.

"Why don't I take music?" I echoed. He nodded. 

Okay, this was getting super awkward and I just wanted to leave.

"I don't know, man, I think I'm supposed to be a doctor or something." 

Kit looked even more amused.

"Well, you have a bit of time till med school. Surely you can branch out a little until then."

Why was he making such a big deal about this? So I knew how to play piano... big whoop. Anyone could learn how to play the piano with a coach, or even an app. I never planned on doing anything with it, and I wasn't about to start entertaining the idea.

"My schedule's actually very packed at the moment, so no can do," I replied politely. 

"So... I'm gonna go now." 

Leaning down, I grabbed my backpack from the floor.

"So you don't have any free periods at all?" 

I opened my mouth.

"I can check, you know," he warned, like he knew I was about to be untruthful.

I narrowed my eyes. This dude was starting to get on my nerves.

"There's one after my first class," I got out through gritted teeth.

"Perfect," he looked smug. "You can come in then."

"I actually really enjoy having the free period free," I retorted bitingly. Fuck being polite.

He raised an eyebrow. "Would you enjoy having Saturday detention as well?"

My jaw fell open.

"What?"  

"You can either have two Saturday detentions in a row, or you can come in twice a week in your free time." He pushed up his glasses and raised an eyebrow at me. 

He suddenly looked less like a fragile old man and more like a person who voted for Trump.

I'd absolutely had it with people disrespecting my wishes and forcing me to do things that I didn't want to do.

I matched his pompous gaze with my furious one.

"Now, look here, you old goose." 

Kit started coughing.

"No means no, okay? I didn't mean to come in here, and if you wanna punish me for being in the wrong place, fine. I'm sorry for touching your shit. But you can't force me to enrol in your class. That's like, abuse of power."

I folded my arms and scowled at him.

"Damn," Kit muttered under his breath. I ignored him. Right now he was the lesser of two evils.

The teacher's other eyebrow went up.

"I see that this might have come across as me arm-twisting you..."

"Might?" 

"...which was probably not the best method to go about this." It was Kit's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"However, asking you to join my class was not unwise. You have a lot of potential, and I can't just let you throw that away."

He readjusted his glasses one more time. "I ask that you reconsider."

Ah, a request this time. A step up, but I was still not having it.

"We'll see," I responded noncommittally. He didn't look satisfied, but that wasn't my problem.

"Don't hold your breath, you might pass out," I muttered as I headed towards the door.

Kit was standing right in front of it. 

I froze reflexively, heart pounding in my chest. 

He stepped aside easily for me to pass.

I narrowed my eyes and sidestepped him carefully. Sure, he probably didn't want to try anything with a teacher in sight, but there was no guarantee that all bets wouldn't be off when I left the room.

I quickly scurried towards the school doors, repeatedly checking  for threats. There were still a few minutes of school, so most kids were still in class. Not like that had stopped them before. 

I looked behind me for any pursuers, either other jocks or Kit himself. He hadn't clued anyone else in on my location while we were in the music room, but I wouldn't even be shocked if the meatheads could somehow communicate telepathically...

I suddenly bumped into someone. My fists immediately sprung up as I turned around to face the potential threat. 

Rhys's blue eyes glimmered with amusement as he took in my stance.

I dropped my hands, immediately feeling safe. Which annoyed me to no end.

"Am I going to have to bell you?" He drawled, leaning beside the school doors and peering at me from under his lowered shades.

I huffed derisively. "Go ahead and try it, rich boy," I said, walking past him. 

"See how many fingers you have left."

I didn't get to two steps before running into Jasper and Brandon as well. I swear, these people were like viruses. They just kept popping up everywhere, I couldn't escape them.

"What do you people want?" I asked with my characteristic geniality. "Why are you still here?"

"We were waiting for you," Brandon told me, his brow furrowed like it should be obvious. 

"I'm assuming now you're gonna say I should get into your car?" Their inexplicable desire to spend time with me was making me lose my marbles.

Well, I was no pushover. I'd just stood up to one curmudgeon, and I would do it again.

"You should have just gone, you know? You can stand there and loom over me like skyscrapers all you want. Heck, you can even try manhandling me again. But nothing, and I mean nothing would make me get into that car with you people."

I wasn't getting into the car and that was that.

Jasper spoke up then. "We were actually just about to go for some food. Would you like to come?" There was a strangely amused undertone to his words.

I paused in my tracks. Would I like to- 

No. I had to stay strong. I mustn't appear weak by going back on my words.

But, food...

In the end, the decision was really out of my hands. 

I raised my chin haughtily. "I've decided that I shall grace you with my presence after all. But only because I feel like. No other reason." I couldn't have them knowing my weak spot.

They all looked amused. It didn't stop me from striding over to the Porsche with as much dignity as I could muster. 

That  was called having a one-track mind.

_

They found me at my locker right before lunch the next day, taking out my paper bag lunch my mom had packed for me again. There wasn't much chit-chat this morning - she just handed it to me with a peck and went up to her room with a yawn. I couldn't really blame her, the purple bags under her eyes looked brutal.

"Are you gonna have lunch with us today?" Jasper asked, leaning against the locker beside mine.

"No," I replied curtly, slamming my locker shit. Just because I couldn't get rid of these lumps didn't mean I wanted to get attached to them.

"Are you going to eat that in detention again?" Brandon asked, peering at my lunch bag.

"That's a weird place to eat food," he said.

"It's one of my better options. You don't have to come," I said hopefully.

"What do you mean by it's a better option?" 

Rhys was leaning against the locker at my other side of me, and I found having him at my back didn't make me feel prickly at all. Which was... weird. Showing someone my back usually left me pretty  vulnerable. 

I turned to address him. "It's safer," I said briefly. He was smart enough to put the pieces together.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and I unconsciously used that time to check him out. He was wearing his usual black ensemble, with a black leather jacket, muscle tee, and expensive jeans with Puma sneakers. 

"So what I'm hearing is, you're scared." 

I immediately stopped ogling him to and stared. The guy never ceased to baffle me.

"What?" 

He shrugged.

"People choose the safer option because they're scared." His brows went up.

"Well, aren't you?"

Was I scared?

Of Jacques? Yes. Of having a room full of students pummel me with rancid food? Very. So, naturally, I denied everything. 

"What? No," I bristled like it was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard.

"I am not scared."

"Oh really? Then come eat lunch in the cafeteria. It's literally part of your tuition."

Oh, pickles.

I hadn't eaten in the cafeteria in years with good reason, and I hadn't packed a spare pair of clothes for that day. True, people probably won't be throwing stuff in my direction if I was sitting with the school's most popular heartthrobs, but still. 

I was scared, duh, and I didn't have anything to prove to this guy.

But a big, dumb part of me didn't want him to think I was a scaredy cat.

"Fine," I said, squaring my shoulders with a confidence I did not feel. 

"I will. But only because-"

"You feel like," he interrupted. His lip twitched. "Yeah, we got it."

He pushed off from the lockers and headed towards the cafeteria, leaving me scowling after him.

The guy put Oscar the Grouch to shame. Douchy McDouchy pants.

Brandon snorted, letting me know I'd just said that out loud. I sighed and headed after him.

I tuned out the students whispering around me, focusing instead of Rhys. He had a very confident walk, I noticed. He moved like every single person in the building and their mother owed him their tuition money. Damn, it was quite a sight to see... 

WHAT THE FUCK AM I THINKING?

I tore my eyes away from Rhys' strut – and something else that rhymed with that – and saw that we were in front of the cafeteria doors. And then Rhys was walking through them, still as if he owned the place. Brandon went in next.

I felt rooted to the spot. My legs just refused to follow.

"Hey," Jasper said, lingering beside me. His green eyes studied my face.

"You don't have to do this, you know. Rhys can just be... pushy, sometimes." 

His eyes were kind as always. They penetrated my walls for a few moments, and I let them. 

But I shook my head. "It's no big deal," I told him. If I said it out loud, then maybe I would believe it.

"I just wanna eat," That part was honest at least. He chuckled softly and swept an arm towards the doors.

"Milady." He sloppily curtsied, looking like a cat had bitten him on the crotch and he was trying to hide his pain.

I snickered. My legs started working again, and I propelled myself into the cafeteria.

The second I stepped in, everyone stopped talking. All eyes turned n my direction. 

The urge to toss out all my lunch from my paper bag and then put it over my head while squealing "Don't look at me!!" was very consuming.

"They're over there," Jasper mumbled beside me, snapping me out of my deer-in-the-headlights moment. I clung to his words, turning my head in the direction he showed me.

Rhys and Brandon were sitting at a table way in the back, secluded from most of the room but still in full view. When his eyes met mine, I knew he'd noticed my little moment, but his eyebrows just went up like I was keeping him waiting.

That snapped me out of my fear, which was quickly replaced by my familiar anger. I stomped towards the table, dropping into the seat across from Brandon.

"You're kind of a jerk, you know," I said, as Jasper settled into the seat beside me.

"I know," he responded lazily, unaffected by my opinion. He pulled out his phone and occupied himself with scrolling through it, effectively shutting us all out. 

I set down my lunch and opened the book I'd brought that day, which was Cassandra Clare's The Mortal Instruments. I promptly stuck my nose into it.

From the corner of my eye I saw Jasper glance from me to Rhys, then shake his head, a tiny smile on his face. Whatever. I didn't care about whatever psychoanalysis he was drawing up. My only concern was my lunch and avoiding the looks that were thrown my way, most of which weren't friendly.

However, I wasn't the center of attention for very long. The cafeteria doors suddenly slammed open, and a dark-clothed, goth/punk looking chick stomped in, her eyes like fire.

"You," she growled, her ire directed towards someone sitting at the popular squad table.

I didn't need to wait long to find out who. All the jocks sitting at either side of Kit Landon simultaneously scooted an inch away from him like they'd choreographed it.

All except Jacques, who sat right beside him and surprisingly stayed put.

Ah, this must be the thespian girlfriend I'd heard so much about. She was rumored to take her craft very seriously, and was a firm believer of the 'all the world's a stage...' jazz. 

This, apparently, also applied to our high school cafeteria.

She marched up to the table, quite dramatically I must say, and theatrically slammed her palms down on it.

"Where the hell were you last Friday, huh?" She snarled right into her boyfriend's face.

Kit looked at her with a mixture of adoration and caution, which seemed like the perfect cocktail for disaster.

"Bella..." he started gently.

"No," she cut him off. "Let me tell you where you weren't." 

She straightened and folded her arms across her chest, looking down at her boyfriend with a very unaffectionate expression.

"At. My. Play," she gritted out harshly. "I practiced for weeks and weeks, put in my blood, sweat and tears in order to deliver my performance, all for my boyfriend to be a fucking no-show!"

Her voice had been rising higher and higher, and when she asked, "SO WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?" it came out so shrill I wanted to cover my ears.

I cringed, desperately wishing I could jump into my book and take my chances with the greater demons. 

Kit looked pained but resigned, like this was something he was used to. Jacques coldly studied her as he continued munching on his fries, looking very unimpressed. 

Brandon frowned and put some AirPods in his ears, and Rhys just continued to scroll through his phone, seemingly oblivious to the whole thing.

"Bella, I texted you," Kit tried reasoning with her. 

"My mom had that thing and she needed me to drive her. I told you about it before your show."

Bella gave him a look of uncomprehending disbelief. 

"My mommy needed me," she mimicked in a whiny tone. "Do you hear yourself? You sound fucking pathetic."

Rhys, who had been detached so far, looked up then and regarded Bella like she was a bug he wouldn't mind squishing. 

Sooooo, definitely no 'Yo Mama' jokes with this guy.

Like, ever.

A look of hurt flashed across Kit's eyes. Jacques glared at the thespian.

"Cool your jets, woman," he snapped. 

My jaw dropped so far down my chest I nearly cut it on the book I was holding. I was shocked, not by his insolence, but because he - my bully - was sticking up for someone else. 

Actually defending someone, instead of being the instigator.

Well, fuck me.

Bella turned to glare at Jacques.

"You stay out of this," she hissed, sounding like a viper. She turned back to Kit then, dismissing Jacques.

She just told off the leader of my bullies. I would have fallen in love with her then and there except I was actually in agreement with Jacques. Jacques, the demon-spawn from the seventh circle of hell. 

It was a sad day indeed for humanity.
Y'all are literally 0 for, like, 10,000,000.

"Well?" She demanded, tapping her foot now, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

Kit sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I promise, I'll make it up to you."

"Oh really?" The tone she used didn't sound good.

She reached out and snatched up Jacques' plate from the table, and before I could brace myself, she overturned it all over Kit's head.

There was a collective grimace. I was so shook I'd forgotten all about my book, and even the other students. This was way more entertaining.

She tossed the empty plate back down in front of Jacques with a flourish, then dusted off her palms.

"Consider me partly made up to," she threw over her shoulder as she spun on her heel and strutted out of the cafeteria.

The room was hushed even after she departed. Jacques' face looked as stunned as I felt.

"I swear, she gets crazier and crazier everyday," he spat as his friend shook food out of his hair.

"Don't call her that," Kit protested emphatically. He ran a hand through his hair.

"She was just disappointed. I know the amount of work she put in. I should have been there," he sighed.

"I need to go make amends or she'll never cool off, and your antagonizing her didn't help."

Good grief. 

This was painful to watch, and I didn't even care about these people. It was like a bad reality show.

"Amends?" Jacques echoed in disbelief, his thick black brows ascending towards his hairline. "I can't even believe you even apologised to that witch."

"Dude, stop."

Jacques rolled his eyes as Kit stood up from his seat.

"The sex can't be that good," he mumbled, starting on a different food item from his tray.

Aaand he was back to being the scum of the earth and an insulting excuse for a human being. Thank goodness.

Kit just ignored him this time, heading out of the cafeteria, presumably in the direction his girlfriend had gone. 

My eyes traced his movements until he was out of sight, and when I accidentally caught Jacques' gaze I immediately spun back around. I was still mostly disturbed at what I had just witnessed.

Jasper's chair began to shake beside me.

"Dum dum dum, dum dum dum," he hummed in rising notes, bobbing his head. I raised my eyebrows, wondering what crack he was on.

"Must be love on the braiiiiin!"  he wailed, belting nasally.

"That's got me – "

I smacked him over the head with my book. 

"Quit it, you whackjob," I said sternly.

Rhys snorted, still preoccupied with his phone. Jasper rubbed his head morosely.

"Oww," he complained, giving my book an evil look. 

"See, this is why they say books are bad for your health." He turned to his food, continuing to grumble under his breath.

I took out mine and reopened my book as I ate, thinking of all the things I'd been missing out on.

_

KIT

Jack was in a fine mood this afternoon.

"I cannot believe that bitch had the guts to show her face in the cafeteria today," he growled loud enough for anyone in earshot.

I paused in wiping the towel against my neck, ready to take offence.

"I mean, she just walked right in so confidently, like she had every right to sit in that space. Just who does she think she is?" He asked incredulously. 

"She's already forgotten her place."

He placed the length of the locker room, looking like an angry lion.

My eyebrows rose. I unbunched my muscles, feeling the tension in my neck dissipate. 

Of course he wasn't talking about Bella... no one could get him as worked up as the nerd could for doing basically nothing. There was a very strange dynamic between the two of them. 

I was beginning to see Jack as Doofenshmirtz and her as Perry the Platypus.

Jack Frost, in a nutshell, was a typical All-American white dude: a football player, and a damn good one at that, with an obnoxiously huge ego and something of a god complex. 

He and I shared a lot of interests, hung out with the same crowd, and were both rated as pretty attractive by the student population, so naturally we became close. He wasn't all bad though - every once in a while, he showed a modicum of decency.

However, the way he talked about the girl - about Avalon - could send my hackles rising up.

I'd heard quite a few stories, about the things she had done and the things that had been done to her, and most of them got more and more unbelievable by the word. I'd never come into contact with her, to bully her or to do anything really. And that was because, well, I had my own problems to deal with.

That is, until today. She'd played that song with her soul fully bared, and what I'd felt I almost couldn't take it. She looked at me like she was bracing for an attack, which made me feel extremely uncomfortable. And from the way she stood up to Mr. Franz and put her foot down, being bullied all these years must not have been easy for her.

Somehow I didn't think I could stay neutral anymore.

Jack was still talking. "I'm not sure how she got them brainwashed," he fumed, "But I am going to break the hold she has on them - literally."

I stilled, feeling a tightening sensation in my gut. 

He wouldn't, would he?

Something about the look in his eyes told me it wasn't a bet I should be willing to make.

"If any of you see her walking around, alone, at any time of the day, " he raised his voice, addressing us all.

"Breaks, free periods, whatever it is." His eyes glinted with malice.

"Bring her to me."

Uh oh. 

My mind raced, trying to work out what I was going to do about this.

_

AVALON

I walked down the hallways, fresh out of Bio, looking for where to spend my free time. I had an hour to kill, and as was typical for me, I was alone.

What to do, what to do?  I wondered, leaning against my locker.

It was quite early, but I was hungry already since I hadn't eaten any cereal that morning. 

Also, it was never a bad time to eat. Just saying. 

I had a packed lunch, which I was saving for later, so a snack would do for now. Could I order Postmates from here? Maybe... or I could go to that coffee shop from last week.

Decisions, decisions.

I'd just made up my mind about going to The Coffeeholics, and I was heading in the direction of the school doors when three football players suddenly materialized and charged at me.

They say bad things come in threes. I was becoming quite a believer in that philosophy.

I took off sprinting in the other direction, fast as Bolt. Not the race champion, the cartoon dog.

 They chased me, which was expected but still caused me a bit of panic. I tamped it down in order to learn from my mistakes. I needed to stop running off to places I didn't fully know.

I dashed down a familiar path, putting on a little more speed in order to loose my pursuers. If I could make it in time, I could surely swallow some of my damn pride.

Now where was that room?

I turned a corner I believed to be the right one.

I ground to a halt when I found myself face-to-face with Kit.

Shoot, I'd forgotten about him. If Jacques had given the order to capture me, then he knew about it as well. And, since he was present during the conversation I had with that eccentric music teacher dude, he knew what time I would be alone and where I would likely be, making it easy to intercept me before I got there.

Drat. I was so stupid, I thought I was going to make it this time.

Caught up in my apathy, I forgot to protest when Kit's arm shot out and grabbed me. I still struggled, but only minimally, knowing I was caught.

But then he did something weird.

I was wearing an Icarus Falls merch sweatshirt with a hood, which he pulled over my head.

"Yo, what the fuck are you doing?" I inquired, finally finding my voice. In response, he tightened the drawstring, closing the material over my mouth till just my eyes and nose were visible.

What in the world...?

"Disappear, damnit," he muttered in frustration, before swivelling me around and shoving me behind him, concealing my body with his.

Paralyzed from shock, I stood stock still.

The footsteps that had been pursuing me crept closer until I heard them right in front of us. 

Well, right in front of Kit. I was facing the wall in a time-out sort of manner.

"Hey dude, did you see where that nerd went?" A deep voice inquired.

"We were literally right behind her. Where'd she go?" Another asked.

Lies. I'd left them so far behind they'd been eating my dust. But I kept silent to hear Kit's response.

"Oh yeah, I saw her," Kit said.

"She ran right down that hall, and turned left at the corner," he directed, pointing down a hallway I had most definitely not gone down.

"She was going so fast I missed my chance," he said, seemingly regretfully. Okay, this dude wasn't that bad of a liar.

"But it wasn't that long ago, so I'm sure you can still catch her," he encouraged them.

"Cool. Thanks bro, we'll catch you later." The footsteps stomped off in hot pursuit then receded into the distance.

Kit craned his neck over in their direction until he was sure they were gone.

"Okay, we're clear," he breathed out in relief. "Let's get out of here before they come back."

He tugged me along as he set of at a brisk pace. I unconsciously matched him, still in complete confusion as to what had just happened.

The music teacher's ears perked up when he saw me enter the room.

"You came," he noted with approval, adjusting his glasses.

I was still unable to talk.

"Oh yeah, saw her roaming the halls looking lost," Kit filled in for me.

"I showed her the way since she couldn't remember it, and here we are."

The guy was actually great at making up stuff. The teacher didn't look like he suspected a thing.

"Oh good," he said, rising. "Now don't go anywhere, just wait here," he said, gesturing towards the rather large space, I noted.

"I'll just be a few minutes - there are a few things I need to grab. So many theories I want to test out with you, young lady."

He scurried off in a somewhat adorable manner. 

Kit went over to sit at the piano. "Yeah, Mr. Franz is something of a music nut," he spoke, after I'd been staring at the door for a few beats. I looked at him.

"He can come off pushy sometimes," he shrugged, "but he's not really mean. He's just, like I said, very passionate about music."

"Why?" It was the first I'd spoken in a while.

He looked thoughtful. "I think his parents were Mozart fanatics," he explained. "They'd play all his symphonies on vinyl around the house like 24/7..."

"No, I mean," I cut him off, struggling to find the words.

"Why did you help me?"

"Oh," he blinked, focusing on the piano before him. His fingers moved over the keys and played a simple tune, which I recognized as the intro to Lukas Graham's 7 years.

I waited. He drew the fallboard back over the keys, done with stalling.

"Let's just say I have a vested interest in you retaining your fingers."

It was my turn to blink. 

Well, that didn't sound alarming at all.

************************************************************************

Now that we're fairly into the story, I just wanted to put out a little disclaimer. Avalon's opinions are just that - opinions. Not everything she says is truth, so just try to remember that.

Anyways, love you guys!

Lulu.