━ " THIRTEEN IN FOSTER CARE, STEALING IPODS AND TOPS TO WEAR. "

      Cleo Caddell remembers the first time she felt helpless. The first time she felt weak. The first, and not the last time, she was mercilessly destroyed. Even though she tries to burry the memories in a distant part of her mind, they always seem to surge back in.

Paul Bardot was her mother's at-the-time boyfriend. He used to come around the Caddell house quite frequently, mere months following their father's death. A pattern seemed to follow his unpredictable arrivals. Her mother welcomed him with a warm smile and left him with white powder sprinkled around her nose.

The man's presence triggered chills to run up Cleo's spine, and she despised the way his eyes flicked up and down her body as soon as he paraded through the door. When Paul came to their house, nine year-old Cleo found her only comfort to be locked in her wooden closet. She managed to shut out the screams echoing out of the room.

At the beginning, Cleo wondered if he was a magician. Coming to inflict secret spells onto her desperate mother. To help her old-self resurface. That theory faded away, when she noticed Paul Bardot's hair in a mess, collared shirt torn,  beads of sweat dribbling down his skin. No magic was happening there.

The man happened to notice Cleo a while later. She was sitting on her bed, legs crossed and an indigo pen squeezed between her fingers. The door unfortunately-- slightly ajar. Focused on the flower she was scribbling on her bedsheets (Her first act of rebellion as a child.), her eyes were screwed to the flight of the ink.

Her head swivelled up as the door slammed, revealing Paul Bardot stood in front of her. She would never forget the lingering of his fingers on her trembling thigh and the grasp of her frail wrists. No matter how much she shrieked, no one came to save her from the magician.

That same night, Cleo Caddell sobbed into her brother's arms, blood still staining her turquoise dress.

━━

      Cleo's shoes clink against the ground as the college materialises itself. She throws her cigarette on the floor, pressing her heel against the tip. She flicks a stand of hair behind her shoulder as she steps in.

Confidence lingers in the pattern of her walk, mouth chewing onto the last piece of candy. Her eyes roam around, taking in the absolute lack of change of the school. A smile dances over her glossed-over lips as she recognises her classmate's expression with sun-kissed skin.

Astrid. Cleo makes out the giddy blond as she leaps into her arms. They squeal in excitement as they embrace each other. "Summer did you so good. You look hot, Cleo!" Astrid exclaims, peering at the girl.

"Don't I always?" Cleo humours, dramatically swinging her head to the side.

She could feel the stares of others at the back of her head. Already, a group huddles around her. Compliments are thrown back and forth as some reunite, and Cleo shines like the sun. Hands placed on hips, everyone hangs onto her words that recollect the memories of her summer. Basically, drugs and sex.

Cleo Caddell flexes her belly-button piercing, slightly lifting up her shirt. The moment following, she recognises her best friend's amused gaze at her side. Directly, Cleo swings her arms across Evie Zamora's neck, squeezing her into a hug.

"I missed you!" Evie laughs, swaying with the girl. Cleo plants a kiss on the girl's cheek.

Evie Zamora is second-in-line to Cleo Caddell in practically everything. Neither seem to mind, and find comfort in each other's presence. They bond over trauma and lip gloss. If either of them wants to do something, it's imperative the other follow suite. Trouble is to be the root to their friendship, and both adore it.

Amongst the group of boys that shamelessly stare at the two girls, one of them catches Cleo's wandering eye. Mason Freeland, a blond with azure eyes. He shoots the girl a shy smile before drowning back in his conversation. She had noticed him before, probably hanging close to Blake.

"Blond's cute." Cleo whispers into Evie's hair.

"Jess won't like hearing that." Evie teases, cocking her head towards the boy making his way towards them. Jess Smid, known for his 'fling' with the Cleo. No feelings attached. A worthwhile distraction was Cleo's interpretation of him.

Slipping on the most genuine smile she could manage, Cleo turns around and leaps into the boy's arms, giggling loudly as he lifts her body up. "There's my girl." He leans forward to peck her lips.

"Missed you too, Jess." She smiles, reaching up and ruffling his hair. Cleo shifts her focus to bid welcome to his friends, pulling them into a hug, arms enlaced around their neck.

Cleo thrives the most when she makes people desire her. She could notice the simple twitch of an upper lip, translating her success. The signs also lay there in Jess's friend group, clearly.

She snakes her arms around Javi's waist, softly leaning her head towards him as he laces his arms around her shoulders. Jess doesn't seem to mind the display, answering Evie's questions about his past two months.

Cleo Caddell's attention switches towards her brother. Her eyes fall on Blake, hands buried in his jean pockets as he chats to the boy. Her eyebrows rise as she realises the 'boy' is none other than Mason. Without blinking, she struts over to the pair.

"Hey Blay'." She grins, draping an arm over her brother's shoulders.

"Where'd you run off to this morning?" Blake quizzes, eyeing the brunette. Obviously, he doesn't waste a second in the interrogations.

"Had to meet some friends before school." Cleo shrugs, unwavering. Her lie slips past her lips, truth camouflaged under her the glint of confidence in her tone. She turns her head towards the blond. "Mason, right? Blake's friend?"

"Yep," he replies, popping the 'p' in his sentence. "You must be Cleo". His lips twist into a smile as he converses with the girl. His eyes fail to detach themselves from her's for even the quick space of a second.

The girl nods, beaming. Her hair flows against the rushes of the wind, covering parts of her face. Thankfully, dissimulating the cloud of blush that spreads onto her freckled cheeks. Cleo Caddell finds herself slightly drawn towards the boy, and the growing pit in her stomach translates the rarity of the occurrence.

Cleo Caddell was not known for getting attached to anyone. For her, Love is dangerous. Love creates nothing but weakness. Easily portrayed by Nora Caddell, who wasn't able to spit out a clear sentence since her tragedy. That taught her young daughter one thing. To never let romantic feelings intertwine into one's heart.

She wouldn't let  her attraction to Mason Freeland evolve into anything more than an amusing crush. Doomed to expire soon enough. "I came here to ask if anyone had an extra pencil. Forgot mine at home." Cleo smiles lightly.

"Sure." Mason scrounges through his bag. He hands the girl a random pen he draws out. A shaky doodle of an 'M' catching Cleo's gaze. She takes it from his hand, their fingers brushing against each other's. It's enough to send a swarm of tingles to flow through her skin. The pen could turn into a perfect excuse to exchange a few more words with Mason, Cleo thought.

"Thanks. See you two around." She comments. She heads back to her friends, patiently waiting for her. Evie shoots Cleo a knowing smirk, and the girl slightly waves the pen that rests in her hand. A discrete message is sent between the two. Jess, or any of the others, were too dull to intercept and catch the smooth action. They walk along side the two girls, their voices floating around them.

 Cleo's ears catch one phrase.  "Looks like Cleo Caddell grew up over the summer."