Logan definitely started it.

He fidgeted with his hands all through class, his eyes darting around like he was waiting for something, running his fingers through his golden hair over and over and over again. And he sat right next to me, and it was becoming increasingly annoying.

"Would you cut it out?" I snapped, predictably. I admit I have a pretty hot temper.

Logan ignored me, and so I reached out and grabbed his wrists, yanking them down to his lap. "I said, would you cut it out?"

He made a sound between a hiss and a grunt. "Fine. Quit touching me." He yanked his hands back and I huffed.

The bell rang and Logan all but flew out of his seat, his eyes dead set on the door. I grabbed his shoulder, for reasons I'm still not certain about, but he shoved me off and shot down the hall like lightning. Seriously, what the hell?

So, like the nosy girl everyone says I am, I followed him.

He turned down to the left wing, and I hurried to catch up, knowing his class wasn't anywhere close to where he was headed. Neither was mine.

He made his way at a brisk pace all the way down the hall until he reached the end, and then he slipped onto the stairwell. I ran forward in a burst of speed, pushing my way through the mid-bell traffic, but by the time I reached the stairs he was gone and I had no idea if he'd gone up to the fourth floor of down to the second.

Fiddlesticks!

The bell rang again, signaling the end of passing period. I groaned and looked around at where I was. The third floor, in the left wing, while my class resided on the first floor, in the right wing. Damn that suspicious boy! I stomped my foot in frustration, glaring at the late stragglers heading to their classes. The hall was steadily emptying, and soon I was the only one not in class (on the third floor at least).

I trudged begrudgingly down the stairwell, wrapping my arms around my middle in anger, and made my way down two floors, ignoring the aching in my calves. Despite working out in dance class, I was still not enough in shape to travel four levels down the stairs, or up, for that matter.

I was walking as briskly as possible down the hall to get to the right wing when I heard them.

Or, actually, I heard her.

It was a soft sniffling, and then a muffled cry, and I stopped, my head whipping around. There was the boys' bathroom next to me, and the girls' bathroom, a few feet away. Oh, and there were classrooms, but I highly doubted they were in there.

I chose the boys' bathroom first, because they were closer. I peeked in, prepared to slap my hands over my eyes just in case, but it was empty.

So I moved to the girls' bathroom. The soft cries grew louder and I eased the door open, slowly, and looked in.

And covered my mouth in shock.

"You didn't lock it?!" Logan growled, his knuckles turning white with force over her bare thighs. "You stupid girl!"

She dissolved into tears when she saw me, and wrapped her arms over her bare chest. She wasn't saying anything, and I wasn't sure she could, through all the tears. She was completely naked, while Logan was fully dressed save for the zipper on his pants, which he quickly zipped up when he saw me, and she had bruises visible between her legs. I was frozen with horror.

"Get out, Evie!" Logan shouted.

I broke out of my trance and did the one thing I had sworn my mother I would never do in front of people.

I called on the magic.

I opened my hands and tendrils of silvery magic laced themselves between my fingers, sparkling darkly. Logan's eyes widened a fraction and he took a step back, but he didn't let go of the girl, whose face was turned away in shame. I growled low in my throat. "Let go of her."

He swallowed visibly and his arms fell limp at his sides. I shot my hand forward and the girl disappeared, waking up in the privacy of her bedroom miles away. Now it was just Logan with his womanizing ways, and me with my magical ones.

"What are you?" Logan said, and though he tried to hide it, his voice shook. "What are you going to do to me?"

I scowled, and then I knew, without glancing in the mirror to the side of me, that my eyes had turned only one colour, even the whites and irises. Black.

"Nothing you don't deserve."

* * *

written by reapersaretheangels

I hope you liked that little piece. Rose (PurpleGirl847) and I are writing this story together, taking turns on the chapters, so the next chapter should be by Rose. We've sort of split the characters, but sometimes we might write each other's characters just to change things up a little :)

Thank you, everyone! We love you!  :)

~reapersaretheangels