(Song of the chapter: 'Be Kind' - Halsey & Marshmello)

Everyone was staring at me. Everyone.

They whispered openly as I passed through the hallways. They scrutinized me as I got books out of my locker. They peered intensely when I leaned over to drink from the fucking fountain.

I really wanted to ask what exactly was so fucking fascinating.

This was Rhys's fault. Every time I caught a glimpse of him I felt like killing him. With the 'Stay Away' order, that wasn't as often as usual, which was actually to his benefit. But guess who switched seats with that dead-man-walking in Econ?

Rory fucking Summers.

Now I had to forcibly restrain myself from reaching over and wringing his thick neck for a whole 30 minutes a day. And it didn't help that Rhys seemed to somehow realize my murderous intent. Seemed amused by it too.

When I asked Rory why she'd done such a thing, I shit you not, she told me it was because she was a 'hopeless romantic.'

She also said our babies would be 'cute.'

Now there was yet another person on my hit list. Another one bites the dust indeed.

Usually, I would have just gritted my teeth, kept my head down, and tried to keep out of everyone's way until things went back to normal. But I couldn't even do that either. Know why?

I had a 5'5 redheaded Irish bodyguard, who'd absolutely under no circumstances keep away from me.

I was trying to blow off some steam in Music this morning, but it wasn't going very well. If I was pissed, Vixen was absolutely livid – but for different circumstances. Mostly, she was pissed at me.

Do you see what you've done? She snarled at me. She'd been on a roll of snide jabs and comments since Wednesday, and showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

She had come to the inane conclusion that, naturally, I was the one at fault for all the misery I was facing.

Of course this is your fault! she snapped now. If you hadn't sniveled and cowered when that insignificant prey came to attack you, your brother wouldn't have seen fit to assign a human to do a job I'm perfectly capable of!

Now I had to add my wolf's injured pride to the list of things I was currently dealing with.

Holding a poised form with a violin in my hand, my strings finally snapped.

Shut the fuck up, you fucking mutt, I full-on growled back. Just stop fucking nagging for one second. I sure as hell did not ask for a bodyguard, and neither did you. Archer screwed us both over, not me. So if you're not going to be any help at all, quit talking about bodyguards and mates and let me fucking concentrate.

Vixen considered me with amber-gold eyes for a long moment, then snorted.

If you're frustrated in certain areas, little girl, don't take it out on me. I'm not the one in the lead. There's a very suitable male that can help you take care of such things. Raise your voice to me again and I'll gag you.

She, thankfully, went quiet after this, but before a backwards snarl that erupted in my psyche. I got a very clear view of her asshole via the hoisted rump she presented me and wished very hard for mind-bleach.

Did it worry me that Vixen approved of Rhys? Absolutely. But that was one more thing to worry about, so I was not touching that right now.

Exhaling, I turned my attention back to the violin. With Vixen no longer distracting me, I managed to unclench my fingers and produced the first clear note I'd made all class.

Mr. Franz was being very patient today. "Good, good," he praised when I finally succeeded.

"Now you've got the hang of it. The violin, you see, is not just an instrument," he explained, circling me and adjusting my grip and hold where necessary.

"It's very unlike the piano. You can't hide behind it, or lead it where you want it to go. It's not an instrument to be conquered, per se. Rather, it's a give and take, a back-and-forth if you will."

He finally stopped in front of me, giving me a meaningful glance.

"You're in full view of the stage, the both of you, so you're equally vulnerable. It is a dance, young lady, one you're both leading. The trick to it is simply learning how to share."

Yeah... I didn't really care about all of that. I was too busy remembering all the finger placements and the notes they made. Once Mr. Franz stopped droning on, I finally managed to tackle the melody he'd assigned to me, losing myself in the glide of bow against string.

Then she ruined it.

"Wow, she's really good."

I opened one eye to see Sophie staring at me in fascination.

"Told ya," Kit replied. They were both sitting at the furthest corner of the room, gawking at me like I was some zoo attraction.

I discreetly gritted my teeth, irritated by both Sophie being her and by the fact that she'd struck up a friendship with Kit when I wasn't noticing.

I tried to return to my playing, but they weren't whispering quietly enough.

"What do you want to bet that she masters the song in the next fifteen?"

Sophie gaped. "You'd bet on that sort of thing? ...I'm in. Let me just find my purse."

My control eroded.

Lifting my head, I fixed them with the meanest evil eye I could muster.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Young lady," Mr. Franz pushed up his glasses, giving me a disapproving stare, "Language."

I ground my teeth hard enough to meld them together.

"Shut the fuck up," I seethed, "please."

"No manners at all," Kit mused, looking unfazed. "It's like she was raised by wolves."

Sophie dissolved into a coughing fit.

I inhaled, held it, then exhaled slowly. I consciously relaxed my grip on the bow, knowing that in my current state I would likely snap the thing in two.

Mr. Franz was one me like white on rice. "No, don't let up," he admonished. "Squeeze it harder."

A loud snort came from the corner of the room. The sight of my incensed glare just made the two dirty-minded fiends laugh more uncontrollably.

I lost absolutely all patience.

"Fuck this," I snarled, putting the violin away.

The bell rang just then. I immediately stormed out of the room. Sophie swiftly caught up, trailing me like a shadow as dark as the storm clouds constantly circling my brow.

I decided I could get used to it, and even didn't mind it, when she was quiet.

_

"Hey, what period do we have right now?"

I slid her a dark glare. She'd been so quiet up until then, I'd almost forgotten she was even there.

"Do you not know how to read a timetable?" I responded, icicles forming on my every word.

"Its lunchtime."

She took a moment to absorb that.

"Can we make a quick detour before we get there?"

I might have actually growled. Anticipating lunch was the only thing keeping me sane all day.

Incredibly, Sophie found this funny. She let out a hearty chuckle and looped her arm through mine.

"We'll get some food in you in a moment. Come on, it'll be quick."

Sophie turned and steered me in a direction away from the cafeteria. Since my only other alternative was biting off her arm, I gritted my teeth and followed.

My scowl deepened as we made our way to the bathroom. I hadn't yet completely hopped onto the herd mentality of girls going to the bathroom together. I knew various characters in Harry Potter had some pretty unhappy times in bathrooms in general, but I didn't think that was why girls were always accompanying each other to go. Mostly Lilith just wanted to apply makeup and talk about clothes.

Once we got inside, Sophie let go of my arm and headed towards one of the stall doors.

"Stay right there, okay? I'll only be a second."

I just stared at her. Of course I was not going to fucking stay put.

Correctly reading my intentions, Sophie sighed exasperatedly, then grabbed my arm and tugged me inside with her.

Well, I thought, stunned. She sure took her job seriously.

On the heels of that thought came a burst of alarm as she plucked a syringe out of her backpack and popped off the cap.

"Are you shooting up in here?" Where the hell had Archer found this girl and why was she my problem?

For the first time, she looked cross with me.

"It's insulin, you eejit," she snapped back.

I closed my mouth. Mutely, I watched, with more than a little interest, as she poked the needle in her side and pressed the plunger. She recapped the needle and tossed it back into her bag.

"You know, I think this is the longest you've gone without glaring at me," she remarked.

I glared at her.

Her red brows rose. "You really don't like to disappoint, do you?"

I glared harder.

She huffed a laugh and hauled us out of the stall.

_

Jasper and Lilith were already at the table when we finally got to lunch. We exchanged 'Hey's when I sat down, then I promptly proceeded to scowl at nothing. Rhys was, of course, absent, and Brandon wasn't here either, though I could guess where he was.

Lilith, at least, was pretty constant. She seemed to be cosplaying Sharpay Evans today, with all pink clothes, glossy pink lip gloss, sunglasses perched on her head, and cute pink heels. She was, at the moment, typing on her phone with sparkly pink nails and had a faux-fur purse beside her.

I was convinced she was having clothes delivered on a daily basis. No closet could have that much clothing. I'd never seen her wear anything twice.

My mood soured further when Sophie glided up to the table with her tray. I hadn't even noticed the way she moved, and despised the fact that it was so elegant.

"Hello," she greeted nervously as she faced Jasper and Lilith. "May I sit here?"

I turned flaming eyes upon her. "I will pay you to go away."

My disdain was apparently the familiarity she needed. Without waiting for further response, she plopped down right beside me.

My eye twitched.

"Well, hello there, stalker." Jasper stepled his fingers under his chin and looked at Sophie with intrigue.

"And who might you be?"

His tone was very warm. I got a mental image of him inviting a burglar into his home with a chipper "How do you do?"

"I'm Sophie." Her brows furrowed. "I'm not a stalker, though."

I snorted, clearly begging to differ.

"We're actually related," she went on, looking at me. I snorted again.

Jasper and Lilith were looking at me curiously. I exhaled through my nose then swallowed my food.

"She's my fourth cousin on my mother's side from my great-great-grandfather Killian's estranged brother, Horatio, and directly descended from the massive loins of Horatio the Second," I said plainly.

Jasper blinked. "You have a lot of cousins," he said after a moment, taking the info in stride.

"One too many I'd say," I muttered, poking my sandwich with a knife ominously. Sophie scooted a careful inch away.

Jasper's brows rose. He studied me a moment, then pushed over a small carton box on his tray. "Here."

Opening it, I was presented with several crispy-brown, tasty-looking apple turnovers.

"The lunch lady made them for me, I think," he explained. "She keeps trying to fatten me up. She may also be courting me." He gave a casual shrug, like 'what can you do?'

"I'm sure she's a nice lady, but I don't think it'll work out between us."

Staring at the turnovers, I felt the ugly, dark, snarling thing inside that had been tripping me up all day finally recede.

"Thank you," I said quietly, and began to eat. The smile he sent my way lifted me even higher.

Sophie looked visibly confused. Jasper turned his grin on her.

"So, Sophie, where are you from?" He had that eager look his eyes got when meeting new people, like he couldn't wait to color her in.

Sophie studied her tray. "I grew up in Cork. Moved here from Munster when I was five with me dad." Her accent got noticeably thicker when talking about her roots.

Lilith looked over. "Is that where Dublin is?"

Sophie gave her a considering look. "No."

Lilith's glossy lips curved upwards. "Oh."

"Why did you move?" Jasper wanted to know.

"It was my dad's dream. Wanted to open a pub for himself in the States."

"Did he?"

Sophie's entire expression softened. "Aye, he did." Her smile was filled with pride, and just a tinge of sadness.

"I really like your accent," Jasper told her, switching topics. "I think I must be a sucker for them. My girlfriend's British."

Sophie stared then looked at Lilith, who proceeded to choke on her Diet Coke.

"Not me," she got out in-between wheezes. Jasper looked rightly amused.

"Jordan's back in London. I'm just here keeping watch over this plonker right here. And if he does anything to hurt my best friend, I will pluck out his penis with pincers."

Jasper's smile abruptly fell.

Sophie laughed as they glared at each other. Popping a cherry in her mouth, she turned to me. "Where's your fella then?"

I slid her a sideways glance. "My what?"

"Mommy and Daddy are fighting," Lilith spoke up in a quite unnerving American accent.

We all stared at her.

She smirked, keeping her eyes on me. "Don't you think Rhys is daddy material?"

"Lilith," I said measuredly, "but has anyone ever told you you're a bit twisted in the head?"

At this, she looked extremely satisfied with herself. "Yes," she proudly replied. "Yes, they have."

Sophie looked thoughtful. "Rhys, was it? Why was he wiping the floor with whoever that was?"

"Oh, he had it coming," Lilith replied breezily. "He won't leave Avalon alone and kept bothering her. It was...upsetting."

Sophie nodded like it all made complete sense. "A right bollix then, was he?"

Fucking hypocrites.

Lilith looked amused. "Bollix? What's a bollix?"

Sophie slowly looked up, her expression reading, 'So you have chosen death?' A undercurrent of tension rippled across the table. The Jaws theme song could be heard playing faintly in the distance.

Setting down her drink, she squinted at Lilith.

"What's a hobknocker?"

Lilith started. "Beg your pardon?"

Sophie wasn't done. "What does 'flogging the bishop' mean?" She grilled, making air-quotes.

Lilith suppressed a lip twitch. "You want me to get into that here?"

Sophie pointed a finger. "Your slang is just about as quare as ours so don't be slagging it, you little British blackguard."

The 'k' sound was replaced with 'g', making it sound like 'blaggard'.

Lilith looked torn between wanting to laugh and not wanting to offend her further.

"Girls, girls," Jasper cut in smoothly. "Why don't we all just get along? After all," I saw the cheeky glint in his eye and knew this was going nowhere good,

"Isn't Ireland part of the UK?"

Infinite silence enveloped the table, the absolute calm before the storm.

In unison, Lilith and Sophie slowly turned towards Jasper. The looks on their faces had every hair on my skin rising up.

I got a glimpse of glowing red eyes and pointy shark teeth before all hell broke loose.

Luckily, I wasn't that versed in either British or Irish slang, so I didn't understand everything that was said. Unluckily, I managed to get the gist of it.

By the end of their tirade, my ears had bled every color of the rainbow, and Jasper was a melted puddle of gravy on the floor that Sophie looked like she wanted to aggressively chomp down with a side of potatoes.

"WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE SHANKED IN THE DARK AND HAVE YOUR BRAINS BOILED IN A BARREL OF GUINESS?"

"I can make the Guinness," Sophie ominously offered.

Lilith was intrigued. "Can you really? That's brilliant!"

They had found common ground united against a shared enemy, which was probably what Jasper had intended.

I slowly started thumping my head on the table.

God, I missed Rhys. He had a very quelling countenance. I could always count on him to be a fucking buzzkill. Without him here, it had all descended into madness.

I stilled as I realized the direction my thoughts were taking. I missed Rhys... but I wasn't ready to miss him. Even doing so after recent events just made me feel dumb.

I know his intentions were to stand up for me, but I wasn't sure exactly what he'd hoped to accomplish. He'd turned Jacques from this larger-than-life boogeyman that I'd spent a great chunk of my life being deathly afraid of, into some pitiful thing I'd felt sorry for. The fear that had seeped out had created room for me to see Jacques as a human being, and that was unacceptable.

I hated that I'd felt anything other than hate for him. And I hated Rhys for making me.

I picked up another turnover and resumed chewing, having to swallow against the sudden lump in my throat.

_

"You know," Sophie said to me the next day during P.E, once she'd finally managed to drag her eyes away from Brandon, "my da once tried to teach me the fiddle."

I'd become an official member of the track team, believing it was probably a good idea to find a way to let off steam during school hours. Sophie was running next to me, apparently having no trouble running and talking at the same time.

"I nearly broke the thing. Would've, if he didn't take in back five minutes after," Sophie mused. "But he did teach me where to punch a man so their face turned purple, and I picked that up well enough. So he wasn't a shit teacher and I wasn't a shit student – for a long time I thought the fiddle was just a shit instrument. But you play it beautifully."

I felt her gaze on me but said nothing, focusing on the distance we have to cover.

"In addition to being diabetic, I'm also allergic to almost every kind of food in the bleeding universe, which is fun. I once ate fish and chips for a week because I was too scared to eat anything else. I won't recommend it. Oh, and when I was younger, I wanted to be an airplane waitress. That was before I learned about the motion sickness. Now I want to be anything other than an airplane waitress, but I haven't quite figured out what."

I finally spoke. "Exactly why are you yacking my ear off?"

"I just thought maybe if you got to know me better, we'd have a connection and then you'd go about liking me."

I nearly stumbled, realizing I'd once used a similar tactic in a different scenario. I caught myself before I did and continued forward, still not looking at her.

"I've come to accept that you're not going anywhere, no matter what I want. But must we get along?" My tone was deadpan, nearly dismissive.

She fell silent. We ran in silence for what seemed like minutes, then she said, "My dad's incarcerated."

I came to a stop.

"I was a one-night stand, but she didn't want to be a mum, so it was just me and da, really. Then he was gone. None of his siblings from that big family tree I showed you showed up for me, so it was just me. And I've been alone for years, focusing on just...surviving till he's out, because he's all I had."

She exhaled. "And now I have you. So no, we must'nt get along, but I'm won't settle for that, no matter how much you throw that chip you've got on your shoulder at me."

I stared at her.

"Respectfully, I mean," she said, suddenly remembering our dynamic. "Er, boss." She cleared her throat.

I bowed my head and pinched my brows together. I felt tired, slightly pained, and very much like an asshole.

Of course I couldn't get rid of her. Archer was a genius really. That scumbag's plan had come together just like he'd hoped, I'm sure.

One thing the Four Horsemen had taught me these past few months was if you can't beat them, join 'em.

Besides, pushing people away was really quite exhausting. I wish I'd had this realization about a week ago, before everything had gone to shit.

I calmly resumed jogging. A beat later, Sophie joined me. She shot me several nervous glances I picked up from the corner of my eye, but I wasn't trying to ignore her – I was trying to figure out what to say.

I finally decided on, "Would you like to meet my mom?"

She looked thoroughly stunned. I held her gaze, letting her know I was serious.

"I'd love to!" Her face lit up then, the chocolate in her eyes going all bright and gooey.

"She's usually working at the hospital, so she's not around much, but I'm sure she'd love to have you over for dinner sometime."

She looked like I'd handed her some incredible gift. Then she thought hard for a moment. "Would you mind terribly if I pop by now and then for some company? I make great soda bread. Do you like soda bread?"

I shook my head. "I've never had soda bread. My mom was born in Spain and my dad's Colombian."

Sophie looked aghast, as one does when they find someone has gone throughout life not eating soda bread.

"You've got to try it!"

I shrugged a shoulder. "Sure, why not?" We were rounding our last lap, and I could see the exact spot we were supposed to finish. Literally inches away from it, Sophie suddenly tugged me off the track.

"What?" I looked at her in confusion.

Her brown eyes looked endlessly kind. She stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder.

"You can let it out, y'know?"

I cocked my head to the side questioningly.

"Your mood's been rotten since I got here, I think its not just cause of me. Go on and unload then. What would it matter what I think?"

Panting a little, I raised an arm to wipe sweat from my face. Twin pools of moisture slowly trickled down my cheek. Surprised, I blinked and two more followed.

My next breath hitched.

The world went filmy, then everything suddenly blanked out and my head was in the crook of Sophie's neck with her arms around me murmuring words of comfort. It took me a few more seconds to realize I was crying.

I couldn't exactly say why. Everything was just so messed up and... different, and I had the sense of something very important slipping away. All the emotions decided to make themselves known by seeping from my eyes, and now I was crying on the shoulder of the girl I'd spent the past two days being a complete bitch to and I couldn't even explain why.

She didn't ask me to though – just patted my back and let me bawl.

"There, there," she said warmly. "Does a body good to clean out the pipes every now and then."

I giggled, then hiccupped unattractively. "Shut up."

I finally subsided then wiped my face again.

"Thanks. And, erm, sorry."

"Don't mention it." I could see the unspoken words in her eyes: What's family for?

_

I marched through the library doors with the look of a woman on a mission. Rhys was in the far-left corner of the room, probably playing Candy Crush on his phone. He looked up when I approached and there seemed to be a glimmer in his eyes – just for a moment – when he saw me.

His expression went understandably wary when I set down the box I was holding on his table.

"Avalon," he tentatively greeted. "What's in the box?"

Quietly, I peeled open the flaps and showed him.

He blinked. "It's a p–"

He abruptly cut off. That was because, simply to help him get a better view of the object, I lifted the pie out of the box and smashed it on his face.

The idea for this little petty revenge was handed to me - literally - by Audrey Brooks. She gave me the pie during lunch and muttered some nonsense about liking my sweater.

I wasn't wearing one.

By now, I was quite done with people. But it hadn't occurred to me that there was something I could do about it instead of just feeling grouchy. The tears had been clogging up my brain and all my sadistic potential. Glad that was over with.

Sophie generously agreed to wait behind while I had my moment. I'm sure Brandon being by the table had something to do with that.

The splat sound as the pie met his face was immensely satisfying. And when I removed it, the amount of whipped cream on his face could've passed him off as Olaf's twin brother.

My happiness was infinite.

"Thought you might be hungry," I said sweetly, "So I brought you something. No need to thank me."

Slowly, he opened his eyes, then only bit of color on his face now. The pie had even gotten in his hair.

Wonder how that happened.

His thumb came up and he wiped off a corner of his chin. Tasted it.

"Is that coconut?"

My smile was as sharp as the Grim Reaper's scythe. "Why, are you allergic?"

He licked his thumb. "Maybe."

"Then its coconut."

I saw his lip twitch, but I couldn't be sure because there was no visible dimension to his face anymore.

"I suppose there's something you'd like to say to me?"

My dam burst. "You had no right, none, to get yourself pulverized on my behalf. Or to be the one doing the pulverizing."

His gaze was perfectly level. "I didn't?"

"No," I snapped. "I didn't need you to do that. I don't need, or want, you fighting my battles for me. I can do it myself."

Rhys eyed the box of pie. Then he sighed.

"You think I don't know that? But you've been afraid of him for years, haven't you?"

"Yes, but–"

"And even fighting back for once didn't remove your fear. It became clear that there was something else going on." He fiddled with the stud on his lobe and gave me an evaluating stare.

"I think its become second-nature for you to be afraid of that guy, to the point you wouldn't know how not to be. So I decided to change that for you." He inclined his head. "I'm sorry that made you uncomfortable."

I stood stunned for several long seconds, unable to do anything other than stare. Then I did what I did in times of uncertainty, which was lash out.

"What are you, my fucking whisperer? I don't care whatever you think it is I need, I just don't want you getting hurt over me!"

That was my main problem here. I wanted everyone I cared about our of harm's way, I couldn't bear to think I was somehow responsible for putting them there.

Rhys ate another scoop of face-pie. "As I've said, you're important to me. I'd do it for Brandon and Lilith and Jasper and Riley, and I know they'd do the same for me. And do it for you again, and again, and again, even if it means you'd keep shoving pie in my face."

I sighed, exhausted. This conversation was going nowhere. Worst part was, I completely understood his stance, I just wanted our positions reversed. That made me a bit of a hypocrite probably, but at least no one could call me sexist.

"How about a compromise?" I looked up to see Rhys which his chin propped by his fist, intensely gazing at me.

I took a moment to marvel at him. I'd never seen someone look so dignified while asking for a compromise with pie all over their face before.

Resting a hip against the table, I thought hard for a moment.

"No more public grand gestures, no more picking... physical fights," I said after careful consideration, "on my behalf. And if I ask you to let something go, for me, then do it. Not the second time I ask– the first. I get that I might be incompetent, sometimes, at solving my own problems," I conceded to him, which stung, "but that doesn't mean you get to disrespect my feelings."

I instinctively curled my fingers into a fist while waiting for his response, then stopped when my hand felt sore.

His eyes flickered slightly.

"Ok. Done."

I raised a dubious eyebrow. "Really? Just like that?"

He shrugged. "I'd never want to be one of the people hurting you."

'You're important to me', 'I don't want to hurt you'...

Both of those statements had rolled off his tongue so easily... while being 100% genuine.

Alarm rippled through me.

He elegantly produced a silk handkerchief from his pocket with and started wiping his face with it. I watched him, amused. The look in his eyes promised pain of death if I let out so much as a snicker.

Finished, he stood, and nodded at the pie.

"You gonna finish that?"

I looked at it, then at him. "Now why would I waste a perfectly good pie that had the misfortune of coming into contact with your face?"

"You know," Rhys said mildly, "the way you say that makes it sound like the pie leaped from the table and into my face all on its own."

"If it had, that would make it the smartest pie in the world."

"Now you're just being weird..."

Our bickering continued well past the library doors. I could almost believe that things were back to the way they were.

But though our pieces fit together again, I was aware of a very noticeable crack in our design.

Indicating that there was now space for something more.

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

Avalon: No more getting into physical fights for me.

Rhys: *unleashes biological warfare*

Me: ... 😶 I might have created a monster.

'Slagging it' - Irish Slang for making fun of something.

'Quare' - unusual. Can also mean very, great, or terrific.

'Blackguard' - troublemaker 

'Hobknocker' and 'flogging the bishop' mean gross and possibly illegal things, so for obvious reasons I won't be elaborating lol. FYI, 'choking the chicken' means the same thing in Irish slang as 'flogging the bishop'; take that as you will.

Sorry this update is coming super late! First week of classes have been insane, but I'm getting used to the everything and setting up a schedule for my writing. 

Lemme know what you think!

Love you,

Lulu.