Hey guys! I'm putting this at the beginning to try and make sure people read it, so please resist the urge to scroll past: I'm really looking for some feedback about this story!! Is it moving too slowly? Does it make sense? Are my characters too cliched? I promise that if a few of you could post a few comments or send me a message that I will stop writing author's notes... sound like a good compromise? But if you're either going to not comment or stop reading.... as you were.

XO SwimmingUpstream

The group trudged in single file as they circumvented the carpark and rounded the resturant to find the back door. Ebony was in the lead because she was the only one who actually knew where she was going. Phitz followed, his bulk seperating her from a still fuming Carissa and Salena came fourth because she wasn't stupid enough to stand in between the other two. She also wasn't stupid enough to go last - where the 'weak members of the heard' might get picked off - So that left Austen bringing up the rear.

It also gave him plenty of time to mull.

He was deliberately not thinking about his brother and the weight that leaving him had settled behind his heart; the action bore a strange finality that was making him anxious. So he was ignoring it.

He had also blocked out recent events that included but weren't limited to cemeteries or invisibility or facebook.

Running a hand over his face, Austen also made the decision to avoid thinking about sport or games or any contests that he had ever taken part in, for fear of overanalysing and having a mental break down.

That didn't leave him much to mull over.

That, he thought, is a nice blade of grass.

Salena turned slightly, stumbling as she took her eyes off the pathway and shot him a concerned look.

Up ahead, Ebony had led them around a final corner, carefully scannig ahead to make sure there weren't any more surprises in the vicinity, before stepping up to the back door. Before she unlocked it, she swung back around to them, gripping the card tightly in one hand.

"Now, because of the staff turn-over they probably won't know whether you actually work here or not so just keep your head down and look like you belong. That way, no one will bother you and we can get in, check for the others, and get out without any hassles."

Three out of four nodded, the last just exhaled sassily.

The moment Ebony tapped her card to the scanner, the door swung wide and they scurried inside, straight into the chaotic inner workings of the fast food outlet. They ducked and swerved as people gave them annoyed looks, shouldering past them with orders or supplies. 

"Austen?"

Salena was vaguely aware of ebony opening her mouth, but between the din and the voice in her head she could here clear as day, the words sounded like they came from underwater.

"Phitz?"

Her head jerked to the right as if pulled by a string, and she eyed the cluster of girls huddled behind a drinks machine. They each wore a too tight uniform, and a hair net that somehow looked like a rosette, and were staring at Salena as if they couldn't quite believe what they were seeing.

"Carissa?"

The disbelief in that voice amused Salena and she let out a choked chuckle that had the others staring at her in concern. She bit her lip and held in her hysteria.

"What the hell...?

She grunted once, clamping an hand on Austen and Carissa's upper arms and shoving them towards the corner. "You guys are drawing too much attention."

Carrie glared at her and ripped herself free. "What are you talking about?"

Opening the closest door and shoving Austen inside with a surprising amount of force, Salena nodded her head in the direction of the girls. "They think they've recognised you and you're drawing attention to us! Stay in here, we will check for the others and get you on the way out."

Austen's head popped out of the room, his lips tinged slightly blue. He shivered. "This is a freezer."

Salena blinked once, twice, and then shrugged. She gestured Carrie inside, and the girl grudgingly obeyed. Turning away from the cold room, Salena smiled deliberately at Phitz.

He shook his head firmly. "Na uh," the boy saide, folding his arms across his chest, "There's no way I'm joining in on this messed up '7 minutes in heaven'."

Salena just stared at him.

"Fine," Phitz stomped past her, stepping into the cold and shivering dramatically, "But If I catch a cold from this..."

"Sue me," she suggested, before slamming the door in his face.

Ebony watched the other girl let out a deep sigh, her shoulders visably sagging, before she straightened and turned quickly. She offered Ebony a tight, strained smile.

"So, what next?"

She blinked. "Uh... we have to warn the others." She tugged her hair out of it's dishevelled plait, retying it in a tight ponytail with a determined tug. Then she smoothed down the front of her jeans, tugged her shirt into place and nodded. "First we should find out whether they're actually here or not."

Watching her peer suddenly slip into business mode, Salena felt a wave of relief sweep through her body. This she could handle: following instructions and carrying them out to the best of her ability. She's been doing in for 11 years at school and 16 years at home, so if she wasn't bloody good at it by now... God help her. 

A man who looked like he could have swallowed both girls whole and still have room for dessert bustled in between them, roughly sending Salena stumbling to the side. Her hip connected with the corner of a bench and she let out a gasp of pain, clutching both hands to the bone. The man didn't appear to notice or care as he grabbed her by the upper arm, hauling her upright next to him.

"Oi," he snapped, wrenching her away from the bench and towards the back door, "What the hell are you doing in here? You don't work here!"

Salena wimpered, her jaw clamped shut as she fought to find something to say. She had nothing. For every distant retort she had to Carissa, for every smart alec reply that her step father had raged at her for, push came to shove and all she could manage was a mewl. She hated herself more in that moment than she ever had before. And that was saying something. 

"Excuse me." The only person more surprised than the man by the attitude behind those words was the person who had uttered them: Ebony. Her hands were fisted on her hips and a firm frown carved into her brow. Her expression was torn though, as if she was weighing up whether or not she could continue. 

"What?!"

Her anger cemented back in place, and she reached out to rip Salena's arm free from his grip. "I said, excuse me. That's no way to treat your employees." She dragged her wide brow eyes to the other girls as she gave her a gentle shove in the opposite direction. "Get back to work, Sally. I'll handle this."

It took Salena a moment to figure out Ebony was talking to her. It finally clicked when the delicate little brunette latched onto the rude man and dragged him away, effectively dismissing her.

"Find the others!"

Nobody, not even disembodied voices that still scared the hell out of her, had to tell Salena twice. 

Snatching an apron off a hook on the wall, she stuck her head through a loop and wrapped the grimy material around her waist. A hairnet and cap followed as she struggled to ignore the possibilities of head lice, and she pulled the brim down low over her eyes. A box of disposable food-handling gloves caught her eye, and she sighed in relief as she wrenched the neon blue plastic on over her fingers. 

She was ready.

Salena froze, unable to turn her back to the kitchen and move towards the resturant area. It was late at night, fairly deserted she was sure, but fright had her pinned in place like a mouse in a trap. She couldn't even pretend that her fears were unfounded. Who knew what awaited her just a few steps away. There could be suits galore just lying in wait. Or the others could be in custody and had given her up. Or her step father could have realised she was missing and tracked her here. Or someone could ask her to take their order. 

She so wasn't ready.

Her handles curled into fists by her side and Salena let out a whine. She needed a rearvision mirror just so that she could glance over her shoulder, or some way of knowing what - or who - was waitig for her out there.

This time when she froze, it was because her midn was in overdrive. What if she could...

"No," Salena murmured aloud, raising a hand to her mouth as she thought. "I can't..."

As soon as the word slipped off her tongue, she made up her mind. Today had been too full of negatives: Don't know this, could die from that, confused and traumatised by something else. But not now. Now she had a choice and she was gonna make itinstead of letting it be made for her. 

Taking a final deep breath she clamped her eyes shut and tried to clear her mind of... anything. If she was honest with herself, she knew that she had no idea what she was doing, but after the day she had had, Salena was fine with a few white lies. Whatever she was trying to do, she had no doubt silence would help. Because, in some backwards way that she'd rather not think about, Salena was listening.

And as soon as her eyelids touched, she heard. 

Carissa was extremely uncomfortable. She was sitting on a box of chicken nuggets in a giant freezer with two boys that weren't talking to her. True, finally getting one of them to shut up was a relief, but the waves of indignant disapointment rolling off the other totally outwighed it. 

Sighing for all she was worth, Carrie pouted dramatically. "Get it off your chest, Austen baby. Sullen really isn't your best look."

His eyes squeezed shut as a hand flew to his temple, and the breath he took was so deep and slow that his nostrils quivered from exertion. He seemed determined not to reply though, and Carrie got bored. 

"Suit yourself," she shrugged, crossing one leg over the other and cocking her head towards Phitz. "What about you, dumbarse? Got anything to say for yourself?"

The big boy just smiled softly, digging his hands into the front pockets of his pants. "You're a bitch, Carissa."

"So I've been told."

Austen lunged to his feet, his boots connected with the floor so loudly that the thump echoed around their hideout a few times. 

"You know what, Carissa?" he demanded when their ears stopped rining, "I do have something to say."

She sneered. "I never would have guessed."

"No, no, no!" he growled, holding out a hand towards her. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to hide behind some lame attempt at bravado just because you feel like making somebody else feel more like shit thatn you do. Not after today and this afternoon.... None of us get to. So why don't you get off your bloody high horse, stop preening, and try to actually contribute something!"

At some point during his rant, Carissa had sat up straight. Her patronising smile had fallen, leaving behind a cold stare that pinned Austen where he stood.

"All bow down to the mighty Austen McWells," she said. Phitz found her unreasonably calm tone even more frightening than his best friends rage. "Afterall, he's the king of the school and everybody loves him."

"What the hell?" Austen spat, kicking a box by his foot. The contents, small apple pie containers, spilled out across the ground but none of them bothered to look. "Who cares what people think? They're a bunch of kids none of us will ever speak to again after graduation and I know I sure as hell don't care how much they like me!"

"That's because they like you!" She screamed, startling the boys so much that both took a step back. That ended unfortunately for Phitz and he tripped over one of the dessert casualties and ended up splayed out on the floor. Austen made as if to go to his side, but Phitz waved him away with a groan.  "You're their golden boy," she continued with a pause only to ragain her breath. "You could commit a felony and they'd still praise you to the moon and back. And all because you have a nice smile and can kick a ball a long way. It's stupid!"

He shook his head in amazement, utterly confused. "I agree! I never asked for any of this."

"That just makes it even more humiliating," Carissa said softly, regaining her composure. "For me, who slaves away everyday for an ounce of respect, and for that stupid freak you've got hanging off your every move. No matter what she does, she will never be worth a fraction of what you are to anybody, and she'll never even compare to me." Her face cold and guarded again, Carrie swivelled to address Phitz where he lay prone on the floor still. "You see, I'm not a bitch at all really. People just say that because I tell them things they don't want to hear. But it's all a matter of perspective."

She looked back to Austen, a slither of pain showing in her eyes. He didn't dare move lest he discover it was an illusion. "I'm not a bitch," she repeated, 'I'm a realist."