I'm rushing down the hall, dressed, with my hair dripping onto my clothes, still wet from the shower. I'm shaking from my encounter with Cora, even though it was almost twenty-minutes ago now. I need to see Wren, even if it's just for a moment.

"It's after hours!" A guard barks at me.

"It'll just be a second!" I call over my shoulder.

I hear the footsteps following me and I increase my pace, hoping to get there in time, but a hand roughly grips my bicep.

"Back to your room," he gruffly says, a deep frown creasing his forehead.

"I just have to–"

"Move it," he snaps, his grip tightening. "Don't make me ask you again."

My shoulders sag in defeat and I let him drag me down the hall, towards my room. He stands there, arms folded, waiting until I step inside. I grumble under my breath and dramatically slam the door.

"This school sucks," I huff, collapsing onto my bed.

"Agreed," replies Constance, who has been in a particularly terrible mood since the party bust-up.

I can feel my anxiety creeping up on me, and I take a long, steadying breath. When I close my eyes, I see smile lines, soft lips, his body on top of mine.

Thinking of Wren is definitely comforting, but I still feel twitchy and anxious when I try to sleep. Each groan and sign of the walls around me has me on edge. The light underneath the door flickers and my breath hitches in my throat. I sit up fast in bed and stare at the door. The shadow moves again. I can't breathe. I rush to the door and fling it open. The hallway is empty.

"What the hell are you doing?" Constance groans, throwing her arm over her eyes.

"Someone was at the door," I whisper.

"A guard, probably."

My heart is hammering inside my chest. I wait a little longer, before closing the door and creeping back into my bed.

Wren, Wren, Wren. Pretty eyes. Handsome face.

"Jesus, can you breathe any heavier?" snaps Constance, irritation rolling off of her. She has been pissed at me for a couple of reasons. One, for not telling her about me and Wren. Two, she heard (somehow) that I comforted Cora after the pizza-in-face incident, instead of (loyally, direct quote) following her. I also think she is annoyed I have an issue with her being back with Harlow. "Leave some oxygen in the room for me."

"Fuck off," I snarl at her, kicking the blankets off of my legs.

"You fuck off."

"Fine!" I hiss, leaping to my feet again. I slide into my sandals and stomp out of the room. It's silent and dark, except for the dim lights of the EXIT signs hanging on the walls, which is how I saw the shadow in the first place. I pad down the hall, hardly daring to breathe, and stop when I reach Wren's door.

I lightly twist the knob and step inside. It's quiet, except for the deep breathing. Harlow's bed squeaks and he makes a sound, rolling over, facing the wall. I sigh with relief when I hear his snores and continue to step silently over to Wren.

"Wren," I whisper.

"Hm?" he mumbles, startled.

"Hi. Move over."

He blinks. Yawns. Blinks again, but obliges. I slide in beside him. The bed is warm, and he embraces me, dragging me close.

"Am I dreaming?" he mumbles softly, probably still half-asleep.

"Yes. Close your eyes."

"Okay," he whispers.

I kiss his forehead before nestling into him. My body relaxes, being in his arms. Exhaustion gnaws at me, my limbs growing heavily.

Finally, I sleep.

***

It turns out Harlow sleeps like the dead, so when we woke up and lazed in Wren's bed for an hour, we basically were on our own.

Wren jams the fork into my slice of mango and waves it in front of my mouth. The sweetness settles onto my tongue. I never wake up early enough to enjoy breakfast before classes, I always run down to get a coffee and end up being late, but this morning, we have had all the time in the world.

"Nice to see you eat some of your own food for once," I tease, gesturing to the yoghurt and muesli in front of him.

"Reluctantly," he mumbles.

Cora's familiar blonde hair catches my eye. I instantly inch closer to Wren, our legs touching under the table. Wren hasn't noticed her enter, as he is too busy scouring through my food.

"Jay has a fight this weekend. I want you to come."

"A fight?" The question successfully pulls my attention.

"Yeah. It's a boxing thing."

"Is it legal?"

"Yeah," he replies, giving me an amused smile. "He's really good."

"Where is it?"

"It's at one of the clubs. I can't remember the name of it, it's just changed, but yeah. It should be fun."

"Is it Saturday night?"

"Yeah."

"I'll call Harold through the week and ask if I can stay."

"I want you to stay with me."

A smile widens across my face. "I'd love to stay with you. I'll have to ask them though."

The warning bell blares. We get to our feet, gathering our things. When we near the door, Cora's eyes lock onto mine. Instinctively, I curl into Wren's side, wrapping my hand around his arm. Her eyes narrow and she slips through the door.

Swallowing, I blink away the prickling sensation tearing down my back.

The weekend can't come fast enough.

***

The house is warm and the smell of Eileen's cooking wafts up the staircase.

I stare at my reflection. I'm dressed in high-waist black jeans and a turtle-neck top tucked into them. My hair is pulled into a bun with curled wisps framing my face. I feel much more relaxed now that I'm away from Downright High. I slept thirteen hours last night, my body obviously exhausted from the lack of sleep throughout the week. I'm sure it's my anxiety getting the best of me, but the flicker of someone's shadow hovering near my door of a night has kept me wide awake.

When I head downstairs, my boots hit the wooden floorboards with a thud. Harold is perched on the lounge, the T.V up far too loud to be considered normal level, with Eileen humming to herself as she bustles around the kitchen.

I almost break into a nervous sweat when there's a knock at the front door. Wren smiles at me once I've swung it open.

"Hi," I smile.

"Hey."

I open the door and he steps inside. He curls an arm around me and plants a kiss on the side of my head.

Eileen appears in the doorway, looking picture-perfect as always, her hands pressed against her legs.

"Wren, this is Eileen," I say with a lethargic gesture.

"Hello," he greets politely.

"Hello Wren," she smiles.

Harold wanders is next. They shake hands and Harold's eyes give him a once over. I wonder what he's thinking.

"What's this thing you're going to?" Harold asks, even though I've already told him twice.

"It's a boxing match," answers Wren. "My friend is up tonight."

Harold makes a sound and I stare at him.

"You're driving there?" he asks.

Wren immediately looks uncomfortable but tries to act like he isn't. "No, sir. Walking."

Harold frowns. "I'll drive you both. I don't want you to walking downtown this late."

"It's okay, Harold, we don't want to interrupt your night," I quickly say, feeling like a burden.

"Nonsense," Harold says gruffly, reaching for his coat. "I'll drive you. Are you ready?"

"I just need to grab my bag." I dart into the kitchen and swing it onto my shoulder.

I catch a glimpse of Wren taking in his surroundings, before we make our way into the garage, where Harold's car is.

"Be safe," Eileen says, touching my shoulder for a moment. "I'll save you some dinner."

Wren starts a conversation about cars and Harold immediately eases on the protective-father act. I feel relieved when the conversation carries throughout the drive.

"Call me when you're ready to be picked up," Harold says, once we're out the front. "Have fun, kids."

"Thanks, Harold!"

"Well. Now we're early," Wren smiles. "Want to grab a drink? I know the bartender."

"Of course you do," I laugh. "Sure. A drink sounds great."

Inside is busy. The air is stale and warm, with too many people stuffed into the venue. The line up to the bar is long and I lean into Wren as we wait. His hand gently rubs over my shoulder blades.

"They're nice," he says. "Your foster parents."

I nod. "They are."

"Harold is very protective of you."

"I haven't seen him act like that before. It's cute."

We end up ordering two drinks, to save waiting again and snag a small table in the corner of the room. There're no chairs and when I lean onto the table, it's sticky. I grimace, retracting my hands.

"It feels almost strange to be hanging out without a bunch of our classmates loitering close by," I say.

"I know what you mean," Wren agrees. "Have I told you that you look incredible?"

A blush kisses my cheeks and I suddenly feel a little too warm. "Thank you."

Two men dressed in black begin to usher everyone into the next part of the building. Wren and I find our seat numbers and I'm pleased to see that they're not too many rows back from the ring. We both leave our two empty glasses on the table, carrying in our remaining drink. When we sit, Wren's hand rests on my thigh.

The noise in the room bounces from the walls, making it hard to hear anything. A man climbs into the ring with a microphone and tells everyone to quiet down. He talks for a while, mentioning sponsors and names the fighters of the night, before he rings a bell, announcing it's time to start.

Two boys–men–climb into the ring and begin to circle each other. I pull Wren's hand into mine and squeeze it. He chuckles beside me. With each punch thrown, my grip on him tightens and a few times I duck, as if I'm the one being swung at.

I can't tear my eyes away from the fights. I lean forward, taking note of their neat, precise moves. I glance at Wren, who is watching me.

"You love it, don't you?" His grin gleams in the dim lighting.

"This is awesome!"

He laughs, squeezing my hand.

After a few rounds, Wren's friend is up. I quickly scan for the rest of Wren's friends but don't see them.

"Are your other friends here?" I ask.

"They usually are. I didn't text them tonight, so not sure," he replies, also looking around. "I probably should have."

Jay strolls into the ring, looking tense. He scans the crowd and grins when he sees us. I wave and Wren sticks his fingers into his mouth and lets out a startling loud whistle. The smile soon vanishes from him as he regains focus. The two opponents face each other.

They dance around each other almost gracefully for a few moments, before the blows start. Jay is on the defense first, letting the other guy almost too close to him. Once the guy lands one on him, Jay flings his entire weight forward with one single punch, knocking the guy to the ground. The guy isn't down for long though and they're up, circling each other, daring the other to make another move. I can barely breathe when the punches start again. This time, it's over quickly, with Jay coming out on top. I leap to my feet and scream out, my voice drowning in the high volume of cheers erupting around us.

"Does he ever lose?" I ask, breathless, taking my seat.

"Never."

"Wow."

"He's very good," Wren nods.

"Have you ever tried this?" I question.

"I've done a bit. More to help Jay. I enjoy it, but it's too hard, not being here for training throughout the week. Downright High sort of fucked a lot for me," he admits. He notices my expression and shrugs. "It is what it is."

It's clearly not as simple as that, but I don't push it.

The rest of the fights weren't quite as exciting as Jay's, but still entertaining, nonetheless. When they're over, Wren and I weave through the crowd, trying to get to the exit.

Fingers sink into my arm, jerking me back. I turn to face a guy and gasp, stumbling.

"Who are you?" the guy demands, leaning in close. His eyes ferociously roam over me. "Are you her daughter?"

My heart plummets into my stomach, and I try wrenching my arm from him, with no luck. He has dark freckles scattered over his face and a greying, unkept beard. I don't recognise him, but the vibes I'm getting aren't good.

Wren's hands slam into the guy's chest and the man falls back, releasing me. Gasps are heard around us as people see him fall. Wren latches onto me, pulling me through the crowd.

I don't breathe until we are outside and the fresh air makes the pounding in my head clear. I exhale and pull Wren to me, hugging him.

"Who was that?" Wren asks softly. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "I think he might have known my mum. I don't recognise him." I rub my arm where his fingers dug into me. Wren glares down at it.

"I'm going back in," he tells me, fury in his tone.

I reach for him and pull him back. "It's okay. I'm fine. Let's call Harold and go."

"Are you sure?"

I nod. "Yeah. I want to just be with you. Let's watch a movie or something."

"Okay," he says quietly. "Sure."

We get another drink while we wait for Harold. I hope he doesn't smell it on us when we pile into his car twenty minutes later.

"You're getting your things from here, but staying with Wren tonight?" Harold asks me, furrowing his eyebrows together.

"Yeah. Remember I asked you through the week?"

"Hmm," he huffs.

My bags are packed and ready, so I'm in and out in under a minute. Eileen hands me dinner in some containers to take to Wren's. When I get back to the car, the two are deep in conversation again, which makes me smile.

It doesn't take long to reach Wren's place. Harold peers down the street first, before looking at the old house. The fence is rusted, the gate is hanging on its final hinges, the paint has peeled, and there's a bunch of rubbish littered through the front yard.

The house is in complete darkness.

"No," Harold shakes his head, locking the doors as I try to open it. "Sorry, Pumpkin, but no. I can't allow you to stay here."

"Harold!" I say in horror, looking over my shoulder to Wren.

"I'm sorry, Wren. You're a nice boy. But I can't allow Addison to stay here. It's not..." he trails off, looking lost for words.

Wren's face falls. He looks distraught for a moment before he nods.

"Okay. I understand."

Hot tears prick at my eyes. "Harold! Please!"

"Why don't you come and stay at our house, Kid?" Harold asks, glancing to the house once more.

Wren's face brightens. "Really?"

"Sure."

"I'll be right back!" he practically shouts, before leaping out of the car.

"Thank you, Harold. For letting him stay. But you totally embarrassed him!" I hiss. "That was so rude!"

Harold looks at me. "I'm sorry, Pumpkin. But this street... that house... no. Absolutely not. He's a good kid, I'm sure he is, but this isn't for you. He can come to stay, where I know you both will be safe."

I'm quiet, then. I nod, shifting in my seat and looking at the front door. Wren appears a few moments later and re-enters the car.

"All good?"

Wren nods. "Sure am."

I reach behind me and find Wren's hand. Warmth settles in my chest and I sit back in my seat, a smile on my face.

I've been waiting for this all week. 

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Thoughts? :-)