*Warning - some slight disturbing content ahead*

Okay, so Tuesday wasn't exactly the best of days to be had when all you're trying to do is live a boring, subtle life. In fact, I could honestly say that out of all the crappy days to be had, that day was by far the worse. Being told that I had to mingle with the King of Gallin wasn't fun.

Luckily, I hadn't received any information about Frenice, and my assumptions about Hadi's work were correct. She didn't come home until I was already fast 'asleep' on the couch, and as well as the next couple of days, for that matter. They (the days) came and went with neither of us seeing much of the other, but that was normal with her work schedule. What I was most dreading was the weekend, where there was a high chance that she would have Saturday off, and I still needed to tell her about my date with Jaxon, whom I also had avoided since we'd last talked. The damage Landon had done to my neck wasn't as hideous as I thought, but I could still see the purpling bruises where his hand had been anytime I looked in the mirror without my hoodie.

I didn't see him or his friends until Friday, which made after-school detention awkward and uncomfortable Wednesday and Thursday. By the time Friday came around, everyone knew that there was something serious going on between me and Landon, but they tried to look painfully ignorant anytime I was around. No one wanted to pick sides, because no one was absolutely sure just how much either of us were capable of doing. Landon was by far more intimidating in size, but I knew that people were cautious of me mostly because I was able to show myself after upsetting the big guy, which begged the question: Did he or did he not settle things with me, and if not, why?

The complications of high school drama, was I right? I'd even managed to somehow steer clear of Jet, Stefen, and Pen. I wondered if they were just hoping to give me some space and see if I'd come to them on my own time.

School had already ended for the day; I was here on the basis of serving detention. During the last five minutes, I had asked Miss Hemsphire if I could be excused early to go to the bathroom on the pretense that I was currently on my period. I wasn't, but as I wanted to steer clear of Landon and his buddies, I wanted to get the jump on them, so I waited in the bathroom. Once I felt confident that they were all gone and off of the school campus, then I would leave.

I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, wishing that I had a bit of makeup to cover the dark, underlining circles forming beneath my eyes. Having naturally pale skin (although, I managed to get it slightly tanned this past summer) and ashen white hair made those circles look as if I had been fighting the devil himself for the past few nights. I chuckled at the thought.

No, if anything, with the combination of having violet-colored eyes, I could very well pass as some terribly designed she-demon off of those cheesy wanna-be horror films. I glanced down at my hands, which were gripping tight onto the sides of the sink, and closed my eyes, taking in deep, tired breaths. It was hard to sleep knowing the kind of shit I just got shoved into.

Suddenly, I heard the bathroom door open.

"Go away," I snapped, turning my head away from the sound, hating the dull ache in my temples. "Find somewhere else to piss."

It was hearing the sound of a lock turning that made me look up. It was a couple of boys that I recognized as a pair of Landon's friends. They were both tall and athletic, broad-shouldered, but nowhere near the size as Landon himself. The one on the left was slightly shorter than his companion, and he had long, shaggy hair that he had to constantly push back from his eyes, and his nose looked like it had been broken quite a few times in his short lifetime. His partner looked little better. He kept his hair short, but he looked as if he couldn't decide whether he should grow a beard or not. Only parts of his cheeks and chin had bits of stubble to cover them.

I squared my shoulders but didn't move to face them.

"Does Landon know you two are here?" I asked, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. In response, the shorter boy reached behind himself.

The shorter boy had a gun.

It wasn't giant or anything; simple, really - it was a small hand pistol, and while I couldn't tell the exact size, being in such close range with any gun was enough to make anyone pause. Finally, I turned to face them.

"Throw the backpack to the ground," the one holding the gun said, gesturing to his feet. Slowly, I shrugged my bag off, wondering if I could use it to distract him. If I threw it at him, I could come in and try to disarm him . . . but would I be able to take on his friend at the same time? Probably not. Besides, the only things I carried in the bag was the occasional pen and notebook, and maybe a few snacks and feminine supplies.

I threw the bag at his feet. Quickly, the taller of the two reached down to grab it and immediately began digging through it. He flipped it upside down, and everything spilled out: a single, worn-down notebook, a few pens and pencils, pads, and a bag of crackers.

The guy holding the gun did not take his eyes off of me when he asked his friend,

"Find it?"

"No, it's not here."

I sighed.

"What are you-"

"You shut-up, Hale," the guy snapped. "Take off the hoodie."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Excuse me?"

"Tria, if I have to shoot you, the first time won't kill you," he warned. "Take it off."

Won't kill me. They're searching me for something, but what? Reluctantly, I pulled my arms inside my hoodie and shrugged it off, tossing that in their direction, too, before I could give myself time to think otherwise. I hoped that I was able to hide how uncomfortable I was; today was a day where I decided not to wear a shirt beneath that hoodie. I was wearing a sports bra rather than a regular one, though, so that helped ease my nerves a little bit. Still, I didn't miss how the guy searching my stuff paused briefly upon seeing my exposed skin.

Did these guys have girlfriends? Would that stop them from trying anything? As far as attractions went, I knew that I attracted most guys because of my . . . ah, unique . . . facial complexions. As much as I hated it, it was easy to point me out in a crowd. With my hair such a light shade of blond and my eyes an abnormal shade of violet, it was hard to go unnoticed when I wasn't bundled up. So, yes, I was different in terms of looks, but as for bodily appearance . . . well, in that sense, I was no great thing. I had faint muscle definition along my arms, abdomen and legs, but I was the true definition of 'slim' besides that. I wondered if Landon's friends would care.

"Turn your pockets inside out," Gunboy demanded. I reached into my jeans and did as I was told, watching both boys for any sign of advancement. I wouldn't be able to take them both on at once, not in such a small space - not when one of them had a gun, and both of them outweighed me by at least a hundred or so pounds. When I finished turning my front pockets inside out, I flicked up my hands in a mocking gesture.

"What do you want?" I snapped when the boy searching my hoodie shook his head. Gunboy cursed.

"Where the hell is it?" he barked. I raised my hands.

"What the fuck are you looking for?" I retorted.

This didn't make Gunboy any happier. He pointed the gun at my head and took a step forward. Instinctively, I took a step back, then realized that he was making the grave mistake of holding his gun out, away from his body. I had a split second to act. I raised my left hand to shove the gun away from my face and grabbed his wrist with my right. Then, as he leapt forward to catch me off guard, I adjusted my body, raised my knee, and kicked him hard in the place no boy of any age could withstand. Gunboy was on his knees in seconds.

Then I realized that I made a mistake. I let go of the hand holding the gun to turn on the other boy, and all he had to do was tackle me to the ground, wrapping his arms around my chest to restrict my movements. My side was smashed against the cruel, hard tile in moments. Of course, I struggled, and tried to throw him off of me, but it was no use.

"Let me go!" I demanded, yelling out as loud as I could. Maybe the janitors were out doing their rounds of cleaning. Blonde shifted himself so that he could dig his knee into the small of my back before pressing my head down.

"Not a good idea," he hissed. "Unless you want people getting shot."

"Get her up, get her up," Gunboy weezed, climbing to his feet. Blonde's knee in my back kept me from resisting him, but it didn't stop me from trying. He grabbed both of my biceps to haul me up, and while he did it with enough force to catch me off balance, the moment my feet hit the ground, I kicked back at his shins and squirmed, moving against his momentum to make his job as difficult for him as possible.

It didn't last very long. Once Gunboy was able to recover enough to move properly, he shoved Blonde out of the way, catching one of my wrists in the process. Before I could adjust to this change of tactic, he pulled back my arm and twisted it up from behind to the point where I thought he was going to tear my shoulder from its socket. I grinded my teeth to keep from showing that it hurt, but it didn't do me much use when he shoved me forward to pin me against the wall.

"Where is it, hmm?" Gunboy snarled, pressing his weight against my arm to keep me from moving. "Randy, take the gun."

Suddenly, I felt his hand press up against my butt, searching my pockets.

"Where's what?" My voice rose a slight bit in pitch in nerves; these two guys were obviously very angry at me for something, and they had me half-naked and pinned against the wall with a gun pointed in my direction. Gunboy pinched my arm; I sucked air in through my teeth.

"Don't you play stupid with me, Hale," he threatened. He didn't remove his hand from my butt; instead, he moved it lower. I tried shifting myself in a better position, but his grip only tightened. "I'll fuck you up right here."