Tom has dragged me out to the dining hall for dinner.

He's getting sick of waiting on me, even though I can clearly see he is enjoying himself. It was his idea to continue life as though nothing was wrong and there wasn't a parasite growing inside me. He said that whilst I wasn't showing, it would be best if I kept up appearances to avoid any suspicion and subsequent sentencing to the hospital.

Two weeks was enough to grieve over the death of a loved one apparently.

The only issue is that I know Hamilton will be hanging around the dining hall too and I would rather die than face him again.

I tap my foot nerviously against the floor. Tom was taking forever. It's awkward and uncomfortable being here amongst the crowd and having everyone know what happened to my mother.

But it's even worse feeling like everyone knows my secret. I can feel thousands of eyes on my back and I slouch further into the seat wishing I was dead.

How was I expected to sit at a table by myself with everyone's eyes tracking me?

Couldn't Tom be any quicker?

Before long I spot him walking back towards me, two bowls of spinach soup in his hand and a giant arse grin on his face.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" I say gruffly, annoyed that he was so happy despite my obvious misery. 

"Because I'm here with you."

"Gross," I say, retracting away from him as he slides himself a little too close in next to me. I can feel the warmth of his body next to mine and despite how much I really didn't want to be here, it was comforting to know that he was the one I was sitting next to.

But the feeling didn't last long.

Somehow in the crowd of thousands of people eating, Hamilton found us.

He spotted me and crossed the floor smoothly, weaving in and out of tables.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stops in front of the table.

"Go away," I quickly and sternly say as he reaches the table.

I didn't need him to make a scene.

"Beth, I-"

"The girl said go away, Ham," Tom says, cutting him off.

Hamilton looks at Tom. "This is between me and her. I made a promise to her mom and I'm going to keep it," he snarls. "Beth come with me this instant."

His hand jolts out across the table for me to grab onto. His fingers are long and slender and the veins in his arm pulse rhythmically.

I know that hand is courser than Tom's and that his thumb is bent inwards ever so slightly from when he broke it as a child.

I know every inch of that hand.

And that arm.

I gulp, remembering what it was like to hold such a hand.

In his version of events I would smile, take his hand and walk out with him arm in arm.

But that's not going to happen.

Because it's Ham.

And he betrayed me.

"No."

"I'm not leaving without you," Ham states firmly.

He retracts his hand and slides into an empty chair opposite me. A sheepish grin slowly makes its way across his darkened face.

His icy blue eyes are cool and collected. He knows what he wants.

Tom snarls. He slaps his hands on the table between us and abruptly stands.

"Ham, she doesn't want you here and neither do I!"

"Well, get used to it."

Ham smirks, letting his eyes glide from where they've been unwavering on my face to meet Tom's hardened gaze. His cool, calm eyes harden for split second into a stare I'd almost make out as jealous.

"Back off," Tom says firmer this time.

Hamilton leans across the table, placing his veiny arms on the smooth surface. His muscles protrude and I feel even smaller next to him than before.

I really wish the two of them would stop it.

My head is beginning to spin and I didn't know how much longer I can put up with this.

"No," Ham reiterates, low and slow with his grin. His eyes slip over to me, waiting for my reaction.

I don't give him one. I'm more concerned about the fact my vision is going in and out of focus.

"I don't want you here," I finally manage to say.

"See! She doesn't want you here."

"I find that hard to believe considering I'm her boyfriend."

"Really?" Tom questions. "Cause she chose me over you the other night."

"Tom!" I shout, disgusted he would bring this up in front of Hamilton.

"What are you going on about?" Hamilton calmly asks.

"She slept with me, not you," Tom smirks back.

Suddenly, Hamilton growls. It comes deep from within his chest and his face turns a beetroot red. I can almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

"How dare you!" he shouts, sliding over the table and wrestling Tom by the waist.

They both crash to the ground with a solid thud.

I jump up and out of the way. The sudden jolt has my head spinning too fast.

I desperately need to sit down again.

But I can't because the two boys are rolling around on the ground, yelling obscenities and bruising each other.

"Keep your hands off her," Hamilton shouts, landing a punch on Tom's cheek.

I cringe, grabbing onto the rim of the table for support and holding my head upright with my other hand.  That was going to bruise nicely later.

"She's not yours!" Tom struggles to say as he attempts to throw Hamilton off of him.

"Wanna bet?" Ham snarls, pinning him down and throwing off his attempt to overthrow him.

"We did it. With each other. She chose me!" Tom snarls, a wicked grin growing across his face.

"Stop it," I try to shout weakly.

I can feel everyone's eyes on us. I didn't want to be the center of attention. I'd had too much of that already. My mother, now this! Why couldn't Hamilton just leave us alone?

There's an audible gasp from behind me.

Has Hamilton beaten Tom dead already? Has he cracked a rib? Or an arm?

But the gasp isn't for them.

It's for me.

I feel my knees give way and before I can catch myself, I sink to the floor with a thud.

And everything goes black.

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