MY FRIENDS ALL stared at me as if they were seeing me for the first time. It was obvious that they disliked not knowing who was calling me out by my first and last name over the loud speakers. I mean, I was even a little shocked by it myself. Curly had never asked me for my name directly so how he knew the information was beyond me. My eyes went to the infernal green eyes, curly-brown hair popping into my mind. I knew he was here for me, but I had no idea why he would be. Glancing at my friends, I found myself heading toward the back door quietly, stopping when I saw two East End Executioners standing by the back exit. Several of the students were glaring at me when I walked by, my legs carrying me toward the front of the house. Once more, the exit was guarded. Looking over my shoulder at my friends, they seemed both angry and bewildered.

Heading to the front door, I knew there was going to be no way out of this one. It wasn't like I could just leave the party without someone knowing. How they knew who I was, I wasn't sure, but I pinned it on the fact that some of the guys looked vaguely familiar. I was sure they had been around when Curly was torturing me with conversation at the Red Rum Inn. When I felt like I couldn't do much else, I noticed him at the DJ booth. His expression was hard to read, the devilish boy sending hand signals to someone while the music started back up. It was as if everything hadn't been paused, people starting to chat again and the party scene continuing in full swing. The only difference was that an East End Executioner was making his way toward me, but his eyes were focused on the ones behind me. I knew he was staring down my friends, and I was thankful when I saw that they didn't look scared of him, even with the jacket he was wearing.

"Funny thing," he said lowly, his index tracing down my left arm. "I was under the impression that you were at a sleepover."

"I don't know what you—"

"Yes, you do," he muttered, grasping my upper arm harshly. "Walk with me, love."

His words were light, as if he hadn't just grabbed my arm like it was no big deal. I stared up at him for a long minute, honestly surprised that he was acting the way he currently was. It was so smooth, his actions quick and calculated. I despised them, my eyes narrowing on him as I attempted to pull away from his hold.

"I don't want—"

"I said, walk with me. It was a request, not a question up for debate."

Glancing up at him, there was a part of me that could tell he wasn't very happy with me anymore. We were walking toward my friends, which was odd to me. A few feet away he stopped abruptly, my body freezing up when he leaned down. I didn't know what he was about to do, but I was surprised when he started whispering to me softly.

"You're going to tell them that you're coming with me, are we clear?"

"I never—"

"I'm not asking you. Do I have to pull out my knife? Your friends can't do shit to me, Veronica. Go tell them what you're doing before I get angry."

"You're not angry now?" I questioned.

He looked pissed, Curly practically seething. I found myself glancing up at him, our faces closer than I would have wished. Raising an eyebrow, he nodded toward my friends. A part of me still wanted to fight with him and say that I was not going to sit here and let him talk to me like this, but the more reasonable part of me decided against it. Instead, I found myself shifting away from him, walking over to my group of friends and standing in front of them.

"Would you like to tell us why an East End Executioner is here talking to you?" Ben asked.

"Uh, I was in a tight spot, and he, um, just, uh, kind of—"

"Cut the bullshit and explain," Denice said, clearly not in the mood to have this discussion with me. "I thought you were going to tell me if you were in trouble."

"This was before I came to talk to you. I don't even know why he's here."

My friends were looking at me, but then their eyes went over my shoulder. Glancing back, I raised my eyebrows when I saw him leaning against a wall, mindlessly twirling the switch blade he had already threatened me with between his fingers. He wasn't looking our way, but I could tell the whole idea of this guy knowing me worried them. However, it was weird to think I knew him. Especially since it wasn't like I knew very much about him.

"There's no way in hell we are letting you go over there," Gloria stated.

"Yeah, there is no way," Denice agreed. "Not even if I want to blow up at you."

I looked back at Curly again, the boy still carelessly flicking his knife between his fingers easily. I pushed my hair out of my face, looking to my friends before telling them that I had to go over. They appeared skeptical, but I pleaded with them. I watched as they all exchanged glances before rolling their eyes, shooing me away.

"If you die, it isn't our fault," Trevor called as I walked toward Curly.

I rolled my eyes, approaching the dark-haired boy again. He seemed focused on a couple girls dancing in the other room. They were wearing skimpy costumes, so it was no surprise to me, but I was definitely disgusted by the image. When I was close enough to him, he glanced my way. I expected him to say something to me first, but that wasn't the case. Suddenly, he was moving through groups of people, my legs nearly failing to keep up. After less than a minute, I was trailing after him out the front door, Curly wrapping his arm around my shoulders before we headed down the walkway from the porch.

"So, Veronica, tell me something. Do you have any family that's alive?"

It was a weird question. One that made me feel uncomfortable and even a little sad. After all, I didn't have much of any family. I didn't know my mom's side whatsoever, and all of my dad's side of the family was either dead or had fled the area while they could. I figured they were lucky to get away from Arlington, East Side in particular. It was a place that tore people apart and I hated it more than anything. Especially since I was left with a shitty alcoholic father as the only piece of family I truly had.

"Just my dad," I said quietly. "Why?"

"No reason, I'm just curious."

My eyebrows pulled in, Curly turning at the end of the walkway. We began walking on the street, his arm still around my shoulders. I found myself wondering why he wanted to speak to me, and also thought his opening statement was a little strange. Plus, his arm around me felt odd. I wanted to pull away but the slight fear of him pulling his weapon on me was in the back of my mind telling me otherwise.

"So, what did you want? I don't even know your name, and we just walked out here."

"I want to fuck you," he said.

I stopped walking, pulling away from him quickly. The weapon on him was the least of my concerns now, my body becoming shaky almost immediately. Green eyes lit up with my reaction, a smirk plastered on his face before he shook his head, chuckling darkly. He looked more amused than serious, and I realized he probably wasn't telling the truth. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I sighed, trying to figure out what else to say or do.

"I really just wanted to talk to you," he said, pulling his switch blade out, and beginning to twirl it again. "You know, about that proposition."

"I'm not interested."

"Just listen to me, damn," he grunted.

I went to talk when he cursed, my eyes focusing on him, though he was more interested in his hand. It didn't take long to see he had slit his index and middle finger. I glared at the boy that was beside me, watching as he shut the blade and put it inside his jacket pocket with his good hand. The cut didn't look too deep, but I was a little nauseous at the sight. It had me wondering how often he cut himself on the blade, but I decided it wasn't something I was going to ask him about so there was no point.

"You shouldn't act like you're twirling a pencil, Curly."

"Curly?" he questioned, less focused on his fingers, and more interested in the nickname.

My face had flushed instantly, and I felt myself wanting to crawl into a hole. Continuing to walk, I felt him lightly grip my wrist, causing me to stop. Staring down at the ground, I was very aware of the fingers under my chin, tilting my head up. Curly had a smirk plastered over his face, although there was almost an amused edge to it this time.

"Why do you call me that?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

I looked away.

"Veronica, look at me."

Sighing, I glanced up, green eyes a darker shade. He looked curious more than anything, his fingers brushing through my hair. At the same time, a breeze blew through the air, goosebumps forming on my skin. The boy in front of me was still smirking, waiting for my answer.

"Veronica."

"Well, I think it's pretty obvious," I murmured, becoming overly confident with him and twisting my fingers around a curl that peeked out of the beanie he wore. "I mean, it'd be silly to call you Straighty."

His hand shifted from my hair to my waist, leaving the one with bloodied fingers by his side. I was surprised when he suddenly began to pull me closer, my chest tightening when I felt his breath against my ear, our chests against one another firmly.

"Maybe it wouldn't be so crazy, Veronica."

"Can you let go of me?"

He didn't at first, my hands pressing against his shoulders. It still took another minute or so before he was pulling away from me. I bit my lip, blushing when he was standing in front of me. I had no idea why I felt so nervous in front of him, his words almost vague and yet they had caused my face to burn red. Green eyes looked over me briefly, my hands shaking as I glanced up at him.

"So, my friends are probably, you know, waiting for me..." I started to say, though Curly shook his head.

"We still have to talk, love. I hope you aren't planning to go back anytime soon."

"No, I don't want to talk to you about a proposition. Absolutely not."

He shrugged, grasping my shoulder. I felt a warm liquid against me, my chest tightening at the thought of his fingers still bleeding. The idea of the blood sticking to me was a little revolting in my opinion. My eyes widened, and I pushed his hand away, a smirk on his face once again.

"Give me a couple minutes," he requested. "It won't be anything horrible."

Shivering in the cold, green eyes glanced over me. The action made me feel overly exposed in front of him. Was I not wearing enough clothing? Was my costume too revealing? Did I look like someone that I wasn't? I was never the type of girl to try and make boys chase after her but I was sure this outfit said otherwise. All at once I was overthinking because my skin was on full show, for the most part, and I knew Curly wasn't about to take his jacket off for me. Not that I would have wanted it, but I was definitely exposed to the world the more I thought about it.

"I really don't want to talk," I told him.

"Well, once again, it wasn't something up for discussion, Veronica."

I shook my head. "Stop calling me that."

"What? Your name?"

"I go by V."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm going to call you Veronica."

It was so obnoxious, and I almost wondered if he got a kick out of frustrating me. Groaning to myself, I felt his arm wrap around me once more, the two of us making it to the end of the street before turning onto a main one. It took a while for us to make it to a café/bar that I had never heard of, although it seemed like Curly had. At least, I thought he did anyway.