MY NEW SEMESTER of school consisted of a lot of boring classes. Gone were my arts course and anthropology, the two classes that actually held my interest during the day. I'd opted to take the next level of English lit and Latin, as well as organic chemistry with Aimee. A physical education class had also found its way onto my schedule, along with a basic psychology class.

By some miracle, I'd been assigned a glorious free period in place of having a sixth period class. It would be my most anticipated period of the day.

"Earth to Red," Aimee's voice pierced through my daydreaming haze. "Don't tell me you've already checked out. It's only lunch time."

The group of us were sitting around one of the tables by the window in the dining hall. Half of us matched our uniform sweaters and skirts, while Violet and Aimee had chosen to wear their blouses in the freezing February weather. Rachel, on the other hand, once again broke dress code in her leather jacket and plain black turtle neck.

"Nah," I shook my head, leaning my chin in my palm. "Just mentally preparing for another round of Latin this semester."

"You've been keeping up at home though, right?" Meghan asked, stuffing a forkful of gourmet macaroni and cheese in her mouth.

I nodded, unscrewing the cap on my water bottle. "Yeah. Which is how I know it's going to be a snooze fest."

"You could've just taken French or Spanish like a normal person," Rachel scoffs, eyes glued to her cellphone in her hand.

My eyes rolled. "I would have, but all you normal people had already filled the classes." When Rachel didn't jump of the lead I handed her, I raised a curious eyebrow. "Who are you texting so intensely anyways?"

Rachel looked up at me with a humorless expression. "My crack dealer."

Was I tempted to mumble that her brother was sitting just a few tables over from us? Absolutely. But it would be pointless, considering Declan hadn't touched his phone all period— I would know, I'd texted him twice and had zero response. Which meant she was talking to someone else entirely.

I shrugged my shoulders, deciding it would be a waste of breath. Instead, I focused my attention back on the conversation unfolding around me.

"What the actual fuck is she doing here?" Aurora cursed, cutting off Meghan mid-sentence as her eyes focused on something behind my head. Between her uncharacteristic swearing and her knuckles turning white where she clutched her smoothie in her hand.

I did a quick survey over my shoulder, but all that caught my eyes was Kamilah and a bunch of her faceless minions seated as a table by the wall.

"Who?" I asked dumbly, turning back to see that Aurora's porcelain cheeks had turned an angry shade of red.

"That conniving little bitch," she seethed, ignoring— or more likely not hearing— my question. 

Aimee, who was sitting on my left, shook her head and turned me back around again, pointing back at the table I'd just been looking at. "A little to your right," she mumbled, trailing off as my face morphed into a look of realization.

And then I understood Aurora's sudden anger.

There, seated next to Satan's offspring, was the only other teenage girl who could rival her level of cruelty and disregard for human civility. Madison Van Allen, who up until then, I had fully believed was a student at Ariat Prepratory School for Evil Girls.

But, alas, there she was, sitting in our dining hall, wearing a perfectly pressed red plaid skirt and blouse like she belonged.

Clearly, someone was very confused.

Looking back at Aurora in shock, I noted the fury burning in her kind, green eyes. "When did that happen?"

"We haven't seen her since her team got disqualified at Regionals," Violet answered, shaking her head in denial. "I didn't hear anything about a new student this morning."

"What on earth would she be doing here? Doesn't she have her own school? One far away from here?" Aimee asked.

It came to my mind that all of my friends in fact knew Madison. After all, she had attended Summer Grove for three years before I enrolled. I'd only met her twice— once backstage and the once when she had tried to throw herself at Noah right in front of me.

My stomach dropped at the memory of it, watching the pretty brunette flirting shamelessly with my boyfriend. She was shameless, not caring what effect her actions had on other people.

But I wouldn't have to worry about that anymore.

Putting the thought out of my mind, I shrugged. "Maybe she got kicked out for being such royal bitch."

"Doubtful, her mom would drag the school through the mud with lawsuits. But it is satisfying to think about," Violet mused, nudging Aurora's shoulder. "Don't let her get to you. She's not going to jeopardize your captain's spot. We won't let that happen."

I looked over sharply, my eyes wide. "Oh, hell no. She's not taking anything from you."

"That's the reason she left in the first place," Aurora reminded us. "Who's to say that's not exactly why she came back? It was my idea to have her team disqualified after all. And I did ruin her chances of getting into a decent dance school next year."

"Fuck that," I scoffed, earning a couple of surprised expressions from my friends. "It wasn't your fault that her and her team chose psychological warfare as their secret weapon for winning competitions. If anything, all you did was make sure it was an even playing field. Everyone should thank you for that. You're certainly not going to be removed as captain for doing the right thing."

Overhead, the warning bell rang, signalling the end of our lunch period. The group of us started getting to our feet, preparing to head off in our desperate directions. But before Aurora said goodbye, she wrapped her dainty hand around my wrist.

"Thanks, Lettie, for your pep talk. I needed that."

"Anytime," I smiled, squeezing her hand. "Don't forget how important you are to our team. We wouldn't have made it this far without you."

Aurora shook her head with a grin, her platinum curls bouncing. "Nah, that one's on you. We wouldn't have made it past qualifiers if it wasn't for your solo. Own that."

My mood faltered at the mention of my first solo, the one that I'd managed to beat Madison with. Based on Aurora's unwavering confidence in my dancing abilities, she had yet to realize what Dallas had— that my heart just wasn't in it anymore.

But I painted on a fake, glowing smile and shrugged. "Whatever you say, Captain."

I quickly approached the sleek, black Porsche in the parking lot after my final class of the afternoon.

I'd just finished up my physical education class, or as Aurora and I liked to call it, Coach Holster's excuse to  punish us for every time we'd mocked pretending to be cheerleaders for his precious lacrosse team. We paid brutally for each time we had, in the form of laps and suicide runs. The class was co-ed, too, which meant Coach fully expected the few girls in the class to keep up with all of the boys.

My spare period afterward would quickly become a blessing, giving my body an hour to recover before Aurora dragged us through warm-ups and routines for another two after school.

After a quick shower, I'd thrown my uniform back on and hurried into the parking lot as the final bell rang to signal the start of final period.

"Hey," I smiled, sighing happily as I slid into the warm leather seat. It was a welcome temperature change from the brisk winter air outside that I'd certainly never get used to.

Declan took a moment to respond, busy typing out a text message on his cellphone. I watched patiently as he hit send and dropped the device into his lap, turning an uneven smile in my direction. "Hey, Angel," he greeted me, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. "How're you doing?"

"Coach Holster despises me," I groaned, sinking into the leather seat, wishing more than anything at that moment that it was my bed rather than a cramped front seat of a sports car. "Do you think I have time for a nap before practice?" I added with a wistful smile.

Declan's cellphone buzzed audibly with a new text message. He chuckled lightly at my comment, picking it up again and checking his messages. "I mean, I would hope I'm better company than that, but if you really need to..." he trailed off, punching out a quick reply.

"I'm kidding," I said, waving off the idea. "But if it's not too much to ask, do you think you could take me by the pharmacy before school's out?"

That comment earned me a raised eyebrow, Declan's golden eyes flitting over to watch me curiously. "You want to explain that one, Angel?"

Digging through my bag, I pulled out a crinkled piece of paper, the kind of which I was quite certain both Declan and his sister were quite familiar with, given there extracurricular activities. "My dad wants me to start taking pills for my anxiety again. He's worried, seeing as I haven't had a massive breakdown as of late, that I'm going to snap now that I'm back at school. I told him I'm fine, but I figure I might as well take them. I mean, if it helps him relax and whatnot, what's the harm?"

As a response, Declan reversed the car out of the parking lot. I quickly pulled my seatbelt across my body. Cars still freaked me out just the slightest, and I was certain I'd never be caught without a seatbelt again in my life. 

"What's the 'script for?" He asked, his hand resting on the gear shift between us as he turned onto the main road. Every now and again he'd reach over and squeeze my knee, a simple touch that sent my body into a flurry of hormones.

"Avian?"

He let out a deep snicker, shaking his head. "You mean Ativan?"

"Sure, that stuff," I nodded.

Declan glanced in my direction, the look in his eyes nearly unreadable. But I was getting better at deciphering those brief displays of unguarded emotion. In this moment, he showed just the slightest concern. "You said you took it before?"

I shrugged my shoulders, resting my head against the headrest behind me. I watched the profile of his face as I explained that when I first came home, a psychologist had recommended it to me to help with my social anxiety. It hadn't done much at first, so I'd only taken it sporadically. But after things started picking up at school and with dance and my friends, I hadn't really noticed that I'd stopped taking it all together.

Declan nodded along as I spoke. He didn't act weird when I told him I took medications to control my mood. Some people didn't like talking about things like that the same way others talked about the weather or sports. But those were the kinds of things I quickly learned Declan had no interest in. He liked talking about the things I couldn't talk to anyone else about. He listened when I was having a bad day and had talked me through a handful of panic attacks. He'd much rather have talked about my anxiety and my feelings than trivial things.

As much as my friends always said I could talk to them if I ever needed to, I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to sour their lives with my depressing thoughts. So it was nice to have Declan to talk to— someone who could relate to those complicated feelings I had.

He pulled into a spot outside of the privately-owned pharmacy with ease, killing the engine as soon as he was parked. "Want me to come in with you?"

I shook my head, a small smile curving at my lips. "I'll only be a couple of minutes. And I promise, after that you'll have me all to yourself until three-thirty," I teased, my hand going to the door handle to let myself out.

The crooked grin that spread across Declan's gorgeous face stopped my heart dead in my chest. "Can't wait."

I had more than one idea of the things going through his mind as I climbed out of his car, my cheeks heating to the same color as my name. Hurrying through the sliding door, I made my way to the pharmacy counter at the back of the store.

After handing in my prescription, and waiting five minutes for it to be filled, the pharmacist called me over to a little booth to hand over my pills.

I recognized him from the handful of times I'd been here. A kind older man with greying hair, deep, tanned skin and a friendly smile. "It's nice to see you again, Miss Grey," he stated, placing my chart alongside the pill bottle in front of him. "You haven't been in for a while."

"I know, I'm sorry," I said sheepishly, my leg bouncing restlessly. "Its been hard to keep on top of this stuff the last couple of months."

His friendly smile faltered, a sad frown creasing his face. "We were sorry to hear about your mother. She was a wonderful woman."

A pang of hurt squeezed at my chest, the air in my lungs falling stagnant. "Thank you," I said stiffly, the response having become automatic those past couple of months. "It was hard adjusting."

"Of course," he nodded, tapping his pen absently on the counter. "Right. Now, I see here you refilled an old prescription. I trust you remember what we talked about when you first started it."

I knew he wasn't necessarily asking, but I rhymed off what he'd told me anyways. I knew my dose by heart, even if I wasn't fond of the pills. I knew the side effects and the dangers that came along with taking a benzodiazepine.

"And I'm obligated to remind you that this is a habit-forming medication. If you start to notice any dependency, make sure you contact your physician immediately."

I nodded, pulling out my wallet and handing over my card to pay for the pills. "Absolutely, sir. Not to worry though, I hate the stuff. I don't like taking it unless I really need to."

"Well, that's very wise of you, Miss Grey," he said, taking my card and ringing me through. Once the transaction was complete, he handed me back my card and the new bottle of pills, wishing me a good afternoon as I made a beeline for the doors.

Outside, the weather hadn't brightened up at all. It was still a dreary, cold February afternoon, snow sticking slickly to the pavement. I was careful not to wipe out on any ice as I climbed back into Declan's waiting car.

"So, are you planning on spending the next forty minutes alone with that phone of yours or?" I asked as I was once again greeted by the sight of Declan texting with purpose.

"Nope," he announced, tossing the device into the console between us. "I just had to convince my sister that it'd be a good idea for her to spend the weekend somewhere else."

That peaked my attention, and I arched a curious eyebrow in his direction. "Big plans?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, his arm winding behind my headrest as he backed out of the parking spot. "What are you doing this weekend?"

I vaguely recalled my friends making plans, which I was certainly meant to be involved in. But at this point, if I couldn't be bothered remembering, I probably wouldn't enjoy it that much. "Nothing really."

"You're coming over to my place."

He didn't pose it as a question, it was more like a statement. As of late, Declan and I had been sneaking around when we could. But my father would only believe that the two of us were working on school projects for so long before he started realizing the boy in my bedroom was interested in more than studying.

So, of course we would jump at the opportunity for a little unsupervised peace.

A small smile spread across my face, my teeth tugging absently at my lip. "I guess I could manage that. When were you thinking?"

His hand settled on my leg as we made our way back to the school, his fingers resting just under the edge of my skirt. They were a welcome warmth against my cool skin. "How does Saturday sound? I've got things to do Friday night, but Saturday will be all ours."

I didn't ask what he had to do on Friday— I knew better than that. Instead, I flashed an uneven smile. "I like the sound of that."

"I'll pick you up around six?"

My smile faltered. "That's not a whole lot of time."

His golden-eyed gaze flickered over to me, and I recognized the amusement there. "You don't really think I plan on taking you home after only a couple of hours, do you?"

My cheeks heated, and I was quite certain he noticed, if his low, rumbling chuckle was any evidence.

"I've waited too damn long to get you alone, Angel. Hell if I'm not taking advantage of every minute I can get."

As if to make his point, he gently squeezed my leg, and my teeth sunk nervously into my lip again. My mind was working a million miles a minute, my thoughts a jumbled mess of feelings and hormones. I enjoyed spending time with Declan, and I sure as hell enjoyed how we spent that time. But a part of me knew that he might be starting to expect more than I was necessarily ready to give— emotionally, and physically.

What Declan and I had was fun and it made me feel good. And at that point in my life, that was what I needed.

So, I told myself to stop worrying. Worrying would only cause problems, problems that could wait until they were actually problems. After all, Declan hadn't ever said anything about it. I was just letting my mind run wild with "what-ifs". 

And I refused to ruin a good thing with my incessant paranoia.

Instead, I smiled at the boy beside me and told him I couldn't wait for Saturday.

What? Is this real? Did I actually post an update?!

I know guys, I'm shocked too.
What can I say, your comments motivated me. So did a certain individually incessant pestering. You know who you are.
Let me know what you guys think is gonna happen? We gonna have a happy story? Or do you think Scarlett's world's gonna go to hell?
Spoiler alert: I don't do happy well 😅
Until next time, look at this adorable face. Matthew Daddario is a precious cinnamon roll.

🖤🖤🖤