BEAU

The asshole officer with a cropped, military like haircut takes me by the head and shoves me forward, pushing my face to the hood of his cop car. The other guy, bloodied and more bruised than me, I'm sure, is taken away by a second officer, keeping us far enough apart that we won't go at it again. What even started the fight, I can't remember. But I do remember the feeling that rushed through me when I finally hit something.

A smirk spreads across my face, the blood mixing with saliva in my mouth. Whether it's the alcohol or the adrenaline keeping me from feeling any pain in my face, I'm not sure. But I'd bet my nose is broken again. Whatever.

"Wipe that smile off your face, shithead," The cop snaps gruffly, jamming cuffs around my wrists tightly. He yanks me upright before shoving me into the back of the cruiser, hitting my head on the ceiling as he does.

Getting into the drivers seat, the old cop groans in disgust as the music from the club changes into a MisFits song.

"Not a fan?" I smirk again, feeling my eye begin to swell shut.

Barely looking in my direction at all, he grunts once, ignoring my question. Eyeing the back of his shaved head, my temper rises and I think of other ways I can get under his skin. It's clear I bother him, why not have some fun?

Turning out the window as we pull from the curb, I see Zach and Tyler watching after me, disappointment all over their stupid faces. Jace is probably off somewhere with another girl and that thought annoys me even more.

Glaring at the officer's head, I loudly hum the song he just scoffed at, hoping it makes him feel even a small amount of the anger I feel now.

Hours later, I'm the only one in the jail cell and by now, both the alcohol and adrenaline have worn off. My knuckles ache and my nose fucking kills. I scowl at the officer pretending to read a magazine, making sure the cover is pointed directly at me. Emma's face fills the page and I clench my sore fists tightly, turning my eyes away from her freckles. Those fucking freckles.

A flash of something worse than anger runs through me, and I'm on my feet instantly, shoving the feeling away.

"Hey," I kick the heavy bars keeping me prisoner with the toe of my boot. "Don't I get a phone call or some shit?" What I really want is a fucking drink.

The officer yells to keep my mouth shut, not looking up from the magazine. Within a few minutes, though, he's unlocking the cell door and leading me to the pay phone reluctantly. I smirk at him another time before thinking of who to call.

My fingers hesitate over the buttons, knowing that there's one person who would have come running, day or night, rain or snow, if I was in trouble.

Dialing a different number entirely, I smash the buttons harder than necessary. As I wait for Rocco to pick up, my mind mocks me over and over, replaying my biggest mistake again and again.

You had her right there, so why did you push her away?

***

Emma - 3 months ahead

In the dimly lit bathroom stall, I pull out my cellphone for the millionth time today and reopen my emails. Tuning out the club-shaking music and the shrill yelling of the tipsy women in the adjacent stall, I re-read the congratulatory statement and review my scholarship offers, warmth spreading through me.

It's really happening, isn't it?

Everything I've ever worked for, every sticky coffee spill, every burnt hand, every instant noodle dinner, is all worth it. My mind begins to wander a path I refuse to let myself go down - there were plenty of other things that helped me get here, things that hurt way more than any coffee burn ever could. Namely, a certain person whose name still stings when I hear it.

Closing my eyes, the familiar urge to just call and tell him the good news fills me up.

"Emmy, are you in here?" Gemma's drunken voice bursts into the restroom and makes me jump, shaking me back to reality.

"Just one sec," I shout and quickly put my phone away, shoving thoughts of him in a far corner of my mind. "You miss me already?" I joke, rinsing my hands under the faucet and smiling at Gemma's pink hair in the mirror.

"We're celebrating, that's all," She pulls me close beside her, tugging me down to her height, and gazes at our reflections. "I'm so proud of you, you know? You're finally going to college,"

My smile in return is real, but so is the small part of me that still longs for another life and a certain Cheshire Cat grin.

Gemma's smile turns down at the corners suddenly, a small pout on her lips. "I am gonna miss you, though."

"Hey," I nudge her playfully. "I'm always missing you, but we make it work. Don't worry," I give her a soft squeeze before taking her hand and leading her out of the bathroom. "Come on, let's get back to Nadine before she gets into any trouble,"

Gemma laughs as we make our way to the dance floor and I let out my own bittersweet giggle, knowing that my days of breaking up trouble are long behind me.

Next Fall

"I'm gonna get some dinner," I close my laptop and look across the small, cinderblock dormroom to my roommate, Chelsea, a girl with a fiery mane of hair and bright blue eyes. She's nice enough and pretty quiet, so we get along well so far.

She turns her TV down slightly and raises her eyes to me, grinning shyly. "I'm actually staying in tonight, but thanks for asking." I nod in response at her usual answer as she goes back to the gossip channel on her TV.

That's the one thing about her, and it's just my luck, really. The girl is obsessed with pop culture and although she's been great at not asking me too many questions - my eyes catch the dark, messy bed head and the many familiar tattoos on the screen - she is a really big MisFits fan.

I try to ignore the latest update on the band, but can't help perking up when I hear his name. I'm not interested, I tell myself sternly. Just curious.

Photos flash across the screen, showing him, or at least a colder version of the Beau I knew, with a new actress girlfriend. She's beautiful and apparently really popular in a new drama series, according to the host.

Fiona's work, no doubt. I shake my head, unable to tear my eyes from the grainy images. My chest tightens and my stomach drops when a video taken by a fan shows them kissing, but I quickly look away. Pushing all thoughts of him from my mind, I lace up my white converse and grab my backpack, needing to get out of this room more than I need dinner.

It's a drizzly and gray day and the walk from the dorms to the dining hall is one of the longer walks on campus. Pulling my hood up, I keep my head down and try to keep under the overhang coverage of the buildings.

I'm only a couple of weeks in, but so far, school isn't really what I expected it to be. Maybe it's because my face was in the tabloids all summer, but I don't seem to be making many friends. Two other freshmen girls giggle at me pointedly as I pass them on the quad, and I hold back an eye-roll. I'm trying to break the habit.

In fact, not only am I not making any friends, I refocus my thoughts, but people don't even seem to be interested. All except for Chelsea, I sigh. She's probably either too shy to be mean or just too awestruck that I know the band to care.

Hoping things turn around for the better, I push open the large cafeteria doors and step inside, greeted by warmth and the aroma of dining hall food. Not exactly delicious - I smile softly thinking of the cafe - but edible.

Searching the long tables for a somewhat familiar face, I come up empty and decide on a scarcely populated corner of the caf. I put my backpack on my chair to claim my seat anyways and grab a tray for the buffet, scrunching my nose at my options tonight.

"Don't want fish," I mumble to myself, feeling equally as dissatisfied with the meat loaf spread. Finally after waiting in a long line, I locate the pasta station. Still feeling uncomfortable being the one served, I stick my tray out awkwardly and watch as an older woman drops cheesy pasta on my plate. "Thanks," I smile gratefully, happy to receive a grin back, even if she's my only friend for the day.

I take my seat and organize my homework around my plate, intending to get a head start on next weeks assignments. Opening up my agenda, I scan my to-do list carefully, starring the most important items.

Snickering at the table beside mine grabs my attention. Checking that there's no one else around me, I look in the girls direction and meet their gazes, stubbornly refusing to look away until they do. When they drop their heads, I resume eating, taking a couple of seconds to calm down.

It doesn't matter what anyone thinks. You're here and that's what matters, I remind myself for the millionth time.

Glancing around the large cafeteria, I take in all the people laughing and chatting with friends, an anxious feeling growing in my gut.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Sure, my parents had the time of their lives here, but I'm not them.

"Are you a freshman too?" A male voice breaks me from my thoughts and I look up to him, chuckling.

"That obvious, huh?" I scrunch my nose at all my notebooks and multi-colored pens.

He slides into the seat across from me and tosses his backpack under the table. "Mind if I sit? And no, actually. You look way less stressed than the rest of us, but the orientation sticker gives it away," His smile is bright against his tan skin and his dark eyes twinkle as points to my purple folder.

"Ah, right." I smirk back at him, his upbeat energy contagious despite my mood.

"I'm Riley," he sticks his hand across the table.

The knot in my stomach loosening slightly, I take his hand gratefully in mine. "I'm Emma," I feel my lips pull into a smile. "And it's really nice to meet you, Riley."