I walked like a ghost towards the main hall, barely noticing the walls or the faces that passed me. My head was spinning. What the hell just happened? I tried to calm the blur behind my eyes, thinking it through logically. Phil had seen me from the library window talking to Dani. He must have recognized her and guessed what we were talking about, he wasn't stupid he knew I was trying to find out. He'd made me promise, and I'd broken it in little less than twenty four hours. Christ. It took all my strength not to spin round and slam myself repeatedly into the wall for being such a fucking idiot.

He was going to tell me eventually, if I'd only been a little bit patient for once, if only I'd been less fucking interfering and nosy and just fucking waited...

I kept up a constant torrent of expletives under my breath as I walked, paying little attention to where I was going. What was I going to do?

*

By the time I'd calmed down enough to take in my surroundings I was in the maths corridor on the other side of college, an area I usually stayed well clear of. I took in the wall displays full of complicated formulas and strange squiggles with distaste. I rounded a corner in brooding silence and crashed straight into two younger girls in an explosion of pink. The smaller one stared terrified up at my angry face before dropping hastily to gather her fallen folders. I muttered a grudging 'sorry' under my breath and swept away, pushing the guilt down into the pit of my stomach.

All remorse vanished in an instant as I heard her whisper hurriedly to her friend – thinking I was out of earshot.

That's the guy who fucked Dani Conners for drugs!

What the actual....

I spun round on the spot, eyes wide.

Was THAT why Phil was upset? Why Chris and Peej were spitting fire? They thought I'd cheated on Phil?

My mouth was opening and closing by itself as I stood in the middle of the corridor gaping wordlessly after the two girls.

Without thinking, I broke into a sprint back up towards the dormitories, face flushed and heart pounding. My head was wild but I forced myself to slow to a stop. Calm down Dan. Think. What are you going to say? It's your word against what Phil saw. What did he see? He'd have to be half blind to think we were actually kissing, we were clearly just talking. But then, maybe he'd taken his glasses off to work. Maybe I'd been leaning in close enough, maybe someone else had told him. Those girls seemed pretty convinced... Maybe Dani had said that was what happened? No, I barely knew her but I could tell she wasn't like that. Not at all.

I wondered what people were saying to her, what shit she was getting.

And then, maybe it wasn't that at all. He'd seen Dani walk off, and I'd been at the door ten minutes later. This was probably nothing to do with it, it was the broken promise that had ripped apart the only thing I really cared about.

I huffed out a breath, tugging my fingers through my hair.

Phil obviously didn't want to talk to me right now. I would leave him alone for the rest of lunch then go make it up to him after college. I forced myself to turn back away. I'd take him to dinner or something. Come to think of it, we hadn't done anything couple-y since we first got together. It would make a nice get away from the sniggers in college and hell, everyone knew now, might as well enjoy the public freedom. I smiled slightly at the picture I was painting in my mind. Phil would love the romantic side of it, and I'd make him dress up all nice and refuse to tell him where we're going and then maybe get some roses or something and take him on the train...

My smile faded.

Where was I going to go for the rest of lunch? The entire college was using me as a rubbish bin, and there were certain people who wouldn't hesitate to throw a quick punch as I passed. I'd always hung around with Knuckles and co behind the sports hall, and then it had been the homely warmth of room 7. I wasn't entirely sure I even knew where the canteen was. I ran my fingers through my hair. A year seven was giving me weird looks so I started walking randomly – better than standing so alone and obviously friendless out here in the open.

I stayed close to the walls, avoiding eye contact with passersby. Trying to make it look like I was going somewhere; as if I was on my way to meet my big group of laughing friends who would welcome me with a shout of greeting and a hug or two.

The walls and corridors blurred into one, never ending hall of shame.

A tall, lanky boy with glasses passed me and we did an awkward sidestep-dance to try and pass. It was only when I passed him again on my third lap of the maths corridor that I realised he was doing the same thing I was: walking the walls, passing the lunch hour slowly and mindlessly in a bubble of fear and humiliation. I was half tempted to stop and talk to him next time, but I stopped myself. I had friends. Maybe he did too, maybe he had just one who was off sick or on holiday or in band practice. He wasn't my year and I didn't know him. I could get through the last ten minutes okay, no one was noticing me nearly as much as I thought they were.

So I walked the walls, and tried to fade into their grey plaster.

*

In a free period it's perfectly acceptable to go to the library and pretend to work, right? There was no way I was wandering the corridors for another hour again. I held a whispered phone conversation in a toilet cubicle in order to book a table at my favourite Chinese for tonight, but it was worth the weird looks. I'd happily walk through the college naked if it meant I could keep Phil and Chris and PJ.

The library was warm and hushed and I found a corner out of the way where no one could see the blank computer screen. My favourite little coffee machine was just off to the side and the smell of roasting coffee blended into the old book smell and the gentle rustling of paper. It was so warm and peaceful compared to the tense, nervous isolation of the corridors. I felt myself relax and suddenly the weight and strain of the past 24 hours came crashing down on me. Fuck it. If I was going to confront Phil it would be better to be well rested and cheerful. I lay my head on the desk, eyes slipping shut into a fitful doze.

Bright lights, the sound of Paganini blaring synthetically out of a mobile phone. A small dark car skidding round the corner. A crash. A flash of blinding white light. A dead girl, no older than twenty two. More shapes lying on the ground. Blood dripping from the windscreen of the black car. And suddenly I was running again, making for the house in the dell. The tire tracks led back here. It was dark. The windows were boarded but the door had been smashed through. Carvings on the wooden walls told me to 'keep out', but the rain was soaking and my feet were moving forwards. Inside, all was dark and damp and ruined. A bike had fallen down the steps into the cellar. Everything was coated in a fine layer of grey dust, except for one room. A wall had been smashed through to create a huge kitchen/living room. The table was clean, barrels and vats filled the corner. Boxed and crates stacked to the ceiling. Weighing scales, tubes, plastic bags, empty beer cans... it was all new, used recently. Abandoned in a hurry. I started to explore, but something shifted. Blackness engulfed me.

I was in the hallway again. The one I knew all too well. Their voices echoed from upstairs, and the pounding of heavy feet. I started to run.

Peeling plaster fell around my shoulders and I spurred my legs on, pushing faster and faster through the darkness. Blood pounded in my head. Their calls and taunts followed me through the black house. Every step they were gaining on me, I tried to run faster but it seemed as if I was slowing down. They were almost behind me and I slammed into a broken, ruined bathroom; wrenching the door behind me and gasping for breath. As I turned, the quiet splash of thick liquid hitting tiles hit my ears. I wretched. Blood was smeared over the mirror, forming distorted, dripping letters. I tried to make them out, my stomach heaving. Detcidda? Decidida? Detcidida? Knuckles was pounding on the door and yelling but his cries faded into the hiss of steam as the shower poured red. My eyes were fixed on the bathtub. A hand, wrinkled and bloated by the water and pale grey in colour was reaching slowly over the side – halting and convulsing. The flesh was rotten. Green and rancid, with great black welts that flaked and fell as it moved.

I tried to open the door. Knuckles and Jake and Gabes were nothing compared to this, but now they were holding it against me and laughing. 'Ballerina Daniel!' they taunted. 'Dancer Dan is going to die! Die Dancer Dan!' I screamed, rattling the door handle with all my might, throwing my weight against the stubborn wood again and again and again.

The creature in the tub was pulling itself up. I could see the top of a head, a mop of dark hair mottled and caked with black blood and rot and chunks of flesh – bone flashing white beneath wiry hair. I blanched and cried, my head spinning, my mouth shrieking.

Slowly, it turned its neck. Not towards me, but towards the tiled wall. And still it kept turning, all the way round with a sickening crack. I slipped down to the floor against the-

"Young man! Wake up. Don't you have lessons to go to? This is not a dormitory! You're using up valuable computer space and you weren't even doing any work. If you are too tired to be at college you should..."

The librarian's scolding faded into the distance as I scooped up my bags and jogged red-faced out of the library. I was shaking, whole body broken out in a cold sweat. Judging by the sniggers that followed me I'd been yelling in my sleep too. Great.

I wiped my forehead, running my fingers through my hair.

I checked my watch. Crap. Classics started half an hour ago, there was no way I was turning up this late. Angry, shaken and a little bit scared still I turned on my heel and headed towards the dormitory building. Fuck it. Phil had finished lessons, I'd go talk to him now.

*

By the time I reached room seven anger had given way to apprehension. I still had no idea what I was going to say. I stopped outside the door, pressing my ear up against the wood and hoping to find out who was inside and – more importantly - what sort of mood they were in.

Sobbing, murmuring, sighing.

Chris's voice rose above the others. "I mean it Phil you need to cheer up. Okay here's a joke to lighten the mood: What cheese is made backwards?.... Edam! Get it? Because 'made' backwards spells 'edam'? Aww don't roll your eyes at me it's a classic!"

I snorted. Trust Chris.

Suddenly, silence fell behind the door. I held my breath.

"I know you're out there, Dan." Phil's voice was high and shaky. "I don't want to talk to you right now."

I closed my eyes slowly.

"That means fuck off." PJ added.

I started to slump away, but turned back. "I'll go, but I just want you to know that I didn't cheat on you, I would swear it on my life!" I called desperately.

"Your promises mean nothing, Dan." Phil said quietly. He took a deep breath, audible even through an inch of wood. "But I know you didn't cheat on me. I just want you to go away now, please."

Two sharp intakes of breath, almost in unison. Chris and PJ. "What." One of them hissed.

"I'll explain." I heard Phil whisper. "Dan, go. Please. You were talking to Rod's sister. I'm assuming you know what Rod did now. And I can't trust you. So, in PJ's words: fuck off."

I bit my lip. I loved the three boys in there more than I'd ever loved anything, I would do anything for them. I wasn't going to risk making the situation worse. So I walked.

Again, I tried to think. Clearly he'd told PJ and Chris that he saw me cheat to explain his tears, and that was why they'd reacted so violently. And now, because of me, he'd have to tell them the whole story. Relive those memories while he was broken and vulnerable. And all because of me.

I slammed my fist into the plastic display on the wall. I was so pathetic it didn't even crack. For fuck's sake.

*

Walking. Rubbing my eyes furiously. Clenching and unchlenching my fists. Shaking. I was a mess.

The nightmare was still in my mind. Swirling shapes and dark figures. Cries, screams, thuds. The writing on the mirror. The blood. The bodies. What did it all mean? Today, after the new information, my mind had advanced the dream. I was seeing the drug gang's abandoned – headquarters? Hold up? Presumably PJ would know the correct terminology. But I couldn't just text him and ask. Not anymore. My stomach twisted and something hot and damp stung the corner of my eye. I wiped it away furiously.

The image I'd been seeing for the past few nights was fictitious, made up by my head from a mixture of traumatising horror movies and video games. But presumably somewhere there was a real place where they stored and distributed the cocaine and whatever the fuck else they sold. That's where Knuckles, Gabes and Jake would be right now. They'd been off college for days; they were probably hiding because of all the arrests. Or maybe they'd been arrested. I couldn't help it, a little trickle of glee ran through my body at the thought. And to think, only a couple of months ago they'd been my friends.

Knuckles' face popped into my mind, leering.

Come to think of it, no one had ever mentioned him when talking about the gang, only Jake and Gabes. Maybe... maybe Knuckles was higher up. One of the betas maybe? And no one knew his identity? The thought of slow, brutish Knuckles in charge of anything sent shivers down my spine. But then, I'd spent a good two months by his side. Knuckles wasn't stupid. He'd have never got into Bradfield otherwise. He had a certain sharp, cruel intelligence. He was the mastermind behind every scheme, every vicious attack. He always knew where to hit that would hurt though most- both literally and figuratively. He would have ruled with a steel hand.

It would certainly explain why Jake was so desperate to move up the ranks: he'd been tagging devotedly behind Knuckles since primary school; his small, wiry figure never more than two paces behind.

I shuddered.

This world was a far cry from the safety and four walls of my dance studio. And it was dance that I needed right now, more than anything. Escape. My head hurt, my body shook and my heart ached.

With one last glance at the wooden door shut tight against me, I turned and sprinted for the bus.

*

The double-decker jolted as we went over a speed bump and my head slammed against the window. Cursing, I pulled my neck straight – blinking away the beginnings of a doze. Why was I so sleepy today?!

My mind was still dwelling on the dream. The car crash, the writing on the mirror, Phil, PJ, Chris, Dani, Rod, Knuckles, Jakob, Gabes, Jake... snatches of phrases drifted around my head. Alphas only reveal their identities to betas and betas only to dealers and dealers to all the runners and... I know his sister, their story's pretty sad too... What cheese is made backwards?-

Backwards.

Backwards

The dream, the writing on the mirror. It wasn't on the mirror at all, it was on the wall behind me – all I was seeing was the reflection.

Backwards. Heart racing, I tried to picture the word in my head - but it was too fuzzy. I breathed on the glass and wrote with my finger, trying to spell it out. My hand was shaking and the letters were crooked – condensation dripping down in rivulets and blurring the lines. Dedicida or was it deticida or maybe detcidda-

Detcidda

Addicted.