The next morning, I wake feeling refreshed.

For once, I'm not hungover. I slept well, and last night showed me that there might be something worthwhile in this hellhole.

"Turn that damn thing off," Constance snarls, and I realise my thoughts had been so deep that I hadn't registered my alarm. I quickly switch it off and roll to my side.

"Hey."

"Nope," she groans. "Not today."

"What's not today?"

"Life."

I grin. It really is a great feeling to wake up with no headache and be able to recall the memories of the night before. I lift my hands to my face and inhale, still able to smell the paint on my fingertips.

There are noticeably fewer people in the cafeteria this morning, and I wonder if the party last night is the result of that. I order my coffee and welcome the hot liquid. It scalds my throat as I swallow.

I spot Harlow, Wren, and a few others from last night standing off the side and I head toward them. I sidle up to Wren and offer him a smile.

"Hey there."

"Hola senorita," Harlow greets me with a cheery wave.

"Madison," Wren nods at me.

"Ran."

His gaze finds mine and his lip twitches.

"Hey," Sandy-Hair greets me and I can't help the look of dread pass over my face as I side-eye him, remembering his sloppy kisses and hand fondling from last night.

His face falters at my expression. Wren reaches for my coffee and takes a sip.

"Hey!" I exclaim.

"Hay is for horses," he replies. "Thanks for the coffee."

He pushes from the wall and leaves, taking my drink with him. I frown after him and the bell rings. Great. Now I don't have time to get another.

"Where did you end up last night?" Harlow asks me.

"Yeah?" Sandy-hair interjects. He has a square jaw, and eyes that look a little too round for his face.

A voice crackles from an intercom in the ceiling, demanding everyone gather in the gymnasium. Harlow looks at me with a knowing look in his eyes.

"Something has happened."

"Like what?"

"You tell me."

He grins, reaching out and lightly touching my hand. I see a faint red tinge to them. I yank my hand from his with a sheepish smile.

By the time we reach the gym, Constance has emerged, looking as tired as I felt yesterday. She gives me a look, warning not to say hello. I'm guessing she didn't have time to shower.

The Principal strides behind a podium, a stern look on his face. He has deep frown lines on his forehead and a tired look about him, making him look older than I guess he would be.

He starts his lecture by demanding to know which delinquents took it upon themselves to graffiti the front of the school.

Feeling eyes on me, I look to my left, seeing Wren a few people down. He raises my coffee and offers me a wink.

***

When Saturday morning arrives, I feel disorientated.

I blink at the time. It's past eleven a.m. Exhaling, I detangle the sheets from my legs and stretch, my back cracking. I had been looking forward to the weekend as I had the room to myself and without Constance's sleep talk, I practically went into a coma. I feel like I haven't had a sleep like that in years. I rub at my eyes and pad to the shower with one eye still closed.

The water stings my skin and I watch it run over the many lines that scar me. I'm alone in the shower block, and when I step outside the shower cubicle, my eyes linger over my body. Cigarette burns are sprayed across my neck and chest. My fingers touch the deep lines covering my wrist. I wish they would wash away with the water. Down the drain, never to be seen or thought of again.

When I close my eyes, I feel the burn. I smell my flesh. I hear the sizzle.

You're not there. You're not there. You're not there.

I wake on the ground. Shivering. My cheek against the tiles. My hair splayed around me.

Shit.

I scramble to my feet in a panic, my heart beating painfully and unevenly in my chest.

No one is here. I'm safe.

I'm shaking when I dress. I count to ten in three lots of cycles and when that doesn't work, I snap my hairband against my wrist until the sound of the snap finally pulls my mind from the memories.

Drifting uneasily around campus a few minutes later, I try to seek someone I know. The place is a ghost town. Constance told me most of the people went home for the weekend or would stay with friends. I didn't expect it to be this quiet.

"Are you lost?" A guard asks me when he notices me staring down the hall with a vacant look on my face.

"It's my first weekend here," I admit, fingering the hem of my sleeve, pulling it hard. So hard that I hear the sound of the fabric being stretched too far. "I have no idea what to do."

"Do you have any homework or assignments?"

"I don't think so."

Tug, tug, tug.

"There's a leisure room which has a lounge and T.V, or the Rec room has ping pong tables, a pinball machine, and a few other things."

"Oh, okay. Where is that again?"

He offers to take me, and I am pleasantly surprised at the kindness of the guard. I list things I like about the guard's appearance, trying to stop myself from pulling at my sleeve.

Stubble. Dark eyes. Smooth skin.

"Have you made any friends?"

"Sure," I nod and my fingernail scrapes my skin. I wince at the sharp sting. "A few."

"Who's that?"

"Constance, Harlow," I list and want to say Wren but he is so up and down, I can't tell what he is to me. Or what I want him to be.

The guard grins. "Harlow is my brother."

"Oh! You're the guard who lets us party," I try to smile, but the expression feels wrong on my face.

He presses a finger to his lip and winks at me. He and Harlow have the same eyes and big lips. He opens the door to the leisure room and bows.

"There you go, Miss...?"

"Cooper, Addison."

"Miss Addison," he makes a sweeping gesture and I step through the doorway. "Hey, Addison?"

"Yeah?"

"Let me know if you ever need anything," he says and leans in as he does. I smell the spearmint chewing gum between his teeth. "I mean, anything."

The smile drops from my face. He doesn't seem to notice as he disappears back out the door. I swallow down a lump of bile and turn, trying to rid his words from my mind. My fists clench and my vision narrows.

I feel the mattress dip. I try to struggle but my hands are tied. I feel the weight of the man on my legs.

"This won't hurt if you stop moving," he insists. "If you be quiet. I'll let you have anything you want."

"Addy!"

Harlow's head appears in front of mine and his grin is stretched ear to ear across his face.

Thank God I'm still standing.

"Hi, Harlow," I say a little frostily as the familiar feeling of nausea bubbles in my stomach.

"Not heading home for the weekend?" he asks cheerily.

The black pit in my stomach deepens and I feel angry that Harlow assumes everyone here has a home to go to. My mind visits the Jenning's home. A place with warm water, heating, food.

"No."

"Want to hang out for a bit? Watch some T.V?" He throws an arm around my shoulder and I cringe at the touch, wanting to peel him from me and throw him across the floor.

I scan the room, not seeing anyone familiar. Harlow sits beside me on the lounge. His thigh touches mine and I almost leap from the seat, my nerves feeling shot.

"Do you have anything to drink?" I suddenly ask, turning to him.

The corner of his mouth lifts. "As in, alcohol?"

"Yes."

He nods. "I got you. Come to my room later, we can crack the bottle together."

"No," I say harshly and quickly smile, checking myself. "I mean, I'd really like to be able to pay you for the drink and have it myself."

"Come see me later, I'll whip something nice up for you."

His eyes are no longer on my face and I squirm uncomfortably. I last ten-minutes watching the T.V before I escape the room. I wander around the campus for a long time, trying to cement the pathways in my mind so I don't end up late to class like I did on six different occasions this week. My shoes squeak with each step and I make a mental note to buy new ones with the money Harold gave me.

I try to eat lunch but can't stomach it. It is only a little after two when I'm knocking on Harlow's door. He ushers me inside and I peer around the room wearily. I take particular notice of the darker side of the room—Wren's side. His room looks almost as bare as mine, except posters of metal bands are plastered on his wall and the black sheets that are not the standard dorm-room sheets.

"What are you in the mood for today? Vodka? Rum? Bourbon?" Harlow calls over his shoulder, unzipping a suitcase and revealing an entire bag of beer and spirits. I wonder if his brother snuck all of this in for him?

"Bourbon, please."

He withdraws the bottle. The liquid sloshes inside it, and I eye it for a moment before I dig in my pockets.

"How much?"

"A kiss."

I blink at him for a second, hoping that he is joking. My eyes narrow into slits when he smirks at me.

"Constance means nothing to you?"

"Constance isn't here."

I inhale sharply. A dark rage slithers through my veins and I snap my teeth shut, grinding them.

"Kidding!" he quickly says, waving his hands. "Kidding, Addison! I swear it."

My shoulder drops and it's then I realise my hands are in fists. I breathe out, relieved. I keep my eyes trained on his and he hands me the bottle. His fingers touch mine unnecessarily and am positive he wasn't joking.

"How much?"

He considers this for a moment, before saying a price that is fair. I hand him the cash and high-tail out of his room, not able to stand a second more of his eyes undressing me.

Once the bottle is in my room, I make a quick trip to the lunchroom and get a 2L bottle of coke and a plastic cup that is stationed at the water machine.

The drink I pour myself is much too strong for someone my size, but I drain the cup greedily in a few big gulps. My throat burns, but it is a feeling I've grown accustomed to over the years.

"Don't make a sound," the voice says.

His beard is sharp and scratches my skin.

"Don't let them hear you. Anything, I promise, it's yours..."

Swallow after swallow.

Burn after burn.

It's dark. The sheets are wet. I'm shivering. Once it was over, the man didn't come back. He didn't offer me any of the things he promised.

I wish they would kill me.

When I stand, I feel woozy and stumble, hitting the bedside table. The bottle wobbles, hitting the wall and I clumsily reach for it.

I sink back a few more cups. My body is warm. My head light.

Crawling into bed, I sink into the mattress and let the darkness consume me.

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