The hallways again. Only this time I wasn't allowed to walk in peace. A hand reached out of an empty classroom and snagged the arm of my black and white striped sweater.

I was pulled in and saw the tear stained cheeks of Alex.

"What do you want, pretty boy?" I asked, huffing and hugging my books to my chest. I did my best to sound unamused, but I was interested and, to my own horror, concerned. His face was covered in bruises, his neck a masterpiece of hickeys and stratch marks.

"Do you..." he took a deep breath. "Do you have anything that could cover all of these?"

I looked him over again. More bruises held their places on his arms. "Yeah. Come on. I know someone."

I turned away from him and his camo print shirt and his black jeans and his stupidly pretty face, leading him down the hall and out to the parking lot all the way to the arts center.