“Get out. You’re making me late,” Dylan snaps.

I remind myself that my baby sister is traumatized from last night and God knows how many other nights, and calmly get out of the car.

I’m glad I’m not being yelled at, but there’s a kernel of discontent brewing at the fact that it seems like I’m an afterthought to my own mother. It’s not as if I want, or need, sympathy, but I was in a bad accident not too long ago, I’m still suffering the repercussions of hitting my head at the hospital, and I’m back after three long years of absence. Shouldn’t she be yelling at me for coming home at three in the morning?

I step onto the Astor Park sidewalk, feeling bitchy. Maybe Felicity will get in my face today and I can curse her out. That’d make me feel better. Sadly, I don’t get Felicity, but Kyle decides to talk to me in the library during study hall.

He scoots his chair over and lays his hairy arms on my table. “It’s all over school that you’re screwing Bran Mathis.”

“That’s what’s interesting these days?” I arch an eyebrow. “Why aren’t they talking about how I’m joining the circus over Christmas break? My group could really use the publicity boost.”

“Circus?” He blinks.

“It’s a joke,” a student nearby breaks in. It’s the first time I’ve had anyone stick up for me at school, and it’s a miracle that I don’t jump out of my chair and hug her. I settle for a small smile.

The blonde shrugs.

“A joke?” Kyle repeats. His face grows red like a cartoon character with steam blowing out of his ears. “You making fun of me?”

“No. I’m trying to get my homework done.” I reach for my poetry when a sweaty palm slaps on top of mine.

A yelp escapes me. A really loud yelp.

Mrs. Chen’s head shoots up from her desk. "Mr. Hudson," the study hall monitor snaps, "We do not touch other students here at Astor Park. Unless you want to have a point docked from your account, you should remove your hand immediately."

Kyle’s hand tightens around my wrist. I grit my teeth because this shit hurts. Mrs. Chen opens her laptop. Kyle, recognizing the teacher is going to follow through, releases me immediately, but Mrs. Chen is busy typing.

"Wait, you said if I released her I wouldn't get any points taken off," he protests.

She doesn't even look at him when she responds. "I told you to remove your hand immediately and you didn't. I won't tolerate that kind of behavior."

"Bitch," he mutters. A bell dings. Kyle flips his phone over and shoots to his feet, waving his phone in the air. "That's two points. You took off two points!" he shouts.

"And you called me a bitch. That's insubordination and a violation of rule 4-13 of the Honor Code regarding acceptable conduct. Shall we go for three points or are you going to sit down, Mr. Hudson?"

Kyle sits down with a bang.

"And the rest of you should know that because you are seniors, I expect you to act like adults instead of a pack of wild animals, trying to tear up another student because they're some kind of perceived competition."

"We're not kindergarteners," Felicity complains from another table in the library.

"Then act your age, Ms. Worthington. You all have ten minutes left to study—use them wisely."

I think I have hearts in my eyes as I gaze at Mrs. Chen. She's officially my favorite teacher.

"Thank you," I tell her when study hall is over.

She gives me a terse nod, which isn't exactly welcoming, but I still love her. Outside the library, Kyle is waiting with fury in his eyes.

"Don't think you've won, bitch."

"We're not in a competition so there's no winner or loser," I reply. I check my schedule and see I have music next, which means I should be able to rifle through my locker.

"You're a loser in life."

"Okay." I smile and wave as I run off. Kyle stands dumbfounded behind me. What did he want? For me to argue with him? He weighs twice as much as me and I know that if he wanted to, he could physically destroy me, so I'm not going to get in a fight with him. Besides, it sounds like he's skating on the edge of trouble and needs to be careful himself.

“Are you okay?”

I shove my books into my locker and turn to Ella who has stopped near me.

“How’s Sebastian?” I ask immediately.

She wrinkles her nose. "He's...different."

"How so?"

"He just is. He used to be understanding and sweet and now he’s like a cranky old man.”

The sick feeling I get anytime I remember the accident bubbles in my stomach. "I'm so sorry," I say. The words are inadequate, but I don't know what else to do. I decide to ask, "Is there anything I can do? Like cook his meals or wash his socks? Easton says that chocolate-covered caramels are good gift."

“That’d be nice, but I might send them. It’s not that the accident is your fault or anything, but Seb is just…weird right now." She reaches out and taps her fingers on my arm. "You should concentrate on getting better yourself. Sebastian will come around. Or we will adjust. We're just happy he's still with us."

"Me, too," I say fervently. "But if there's anything I can ever do, let me know."