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Dedication: AmazinglyCate for the cover! Thank you!

******* TWELVE MONTHS LATER *******

Ugly.

That was my first thought when I stared at the new school I'd be attending. I wrinkled my nose at the large, iron gates and barb-wired fences that surrounded it. The building was enormous and entirely built of brick.

Security guards, at least two from what I could see, were paroling the outside perimeter. I swallowed a dry lump that had lodged itself in my throat. How my life could go from perfect to this was... dumbfounding. If my Dad hadn't died, this would never have happened. 

Exhaling wearily, I pinched the skin in between my eyes together. I couldn't believe this is what my life had come to. If I could go twelve months back and somehow save my Dad... everything would still be perfect. I had been out laughing with my friends, felt up by my non-labeled boyfriend, and having a great time, whilst my Dad had been getting murdered.

The thought of that made me so sick I wanted to vomit up the entire last twelve months of my life's food consumption. 

"Ma'am?" the taxi driver asked, clearing his throat uneasily. I slowly turned my head, meeting his gaze steadily, my eyes narrowing almost immediately. He flinched, cringing away from me. 

My eyes softened. Slightly. It must be hard transporting people around this area of town. You'd get a lot of thugs. I fished the money I owed him out of my pocket and slipped it into his hand. He gave me a tentative smile before dumping the last of my bags onto the sidewalk. 

"Will you be right from here?"

When I didn't reply, he reentered the Taxi. I stood there for a few moments, contemplating running away. I had a bit of money... I could support myself for barely two weeks. 

Going to this school hadn't exactly been my suggestion. My grandfather had enough of my slipping grades, my late nights, coming home either high or drunk with a tattooed guy over half my age trailing behind me. He'd sent me to the strictest school in the zone.

Downright High.

Also known as; Downright Delinquents.

With a sigh, I hitched my bags onto my shoulder. I guess it was now or never. Before I could take a step, the gates rolled open with an ear-wincing screech. Two security guards came marching towards me with batons in their hands. 

I raised my hands in a peace signal, in an attempt to decrease some of the accumulating tension. 

"Why are you lingering by the gates?" My tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth and he glowered at me, narrowing his eyes. "People who sneak weapons and such through the fence will be fined severely."

"I..." I trailed off awkwardly and cleared my throat. I gestured to my bags in an obvious manner. "I'm meant to be transferring here."

"Oh. Come along, then."

The buff guy who'd spoken first walked until he was behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, staring at him with a baffled expression. "Why do I feel I'm entering a Prison?"

He laughed without any humour and leaned in close to me, his hot breath fanning my face.  I recoiled with repulse from the proximity and the fact that he had his two front teeth missing.

"That's exactly what you're doing."

"Is this necessary?" I deadpanned as yet another security guard began patting me down. I stood in the hallway near the entrance of the building, arms folded across my chest and my foot tapping. I rolled my tongue across my teeth, agitated.

I had transgressed past annoyed to seriously irritated. It was as though I was being sent to Prison. This was my fourth pat-down. At least they hadn't found my knife. It was safely pocketed in my secret area, where it was technically illegal for them to touch. I could sue them if one felt me up, which it had felt like one did when he spent a little too long touching my butt.

They had already searched my bags to see if I was smuggling drugs or weapons inside. After all that nonsense, I was handed a timetable and map. 

Whom I'd be sharing with someone else.

I scowled upon reading that. I have a lot of trouble sleeping as it is, without someone else laying a metre away from me.

Finally, they released me and escorted to my room by a guard I haven't had the blessing of meeting yet. After about ten minutes of awkward silence and winding corridors, I was standing in front of a faded, red door with the number 22 written in broad, gold lettering. Twenty-two was my lucky number since it was my birth date. My cheek twitched. I almost smiled, but the temptation was fleeting.

"Will you be right from here?" the guy asked, turning to face me. He didn't look me in the eye, but over my shoulder, as if it would be too personal if our gazes locked. 

"Yeah, thanks."

With a tight-lipped smile and a formal head nod, he turned on his heel and marched from me, back to where he was stationed. I turned to face the door of my dorm again. After counting to ten in my head, I rammed my key in the lock and swung the door open. I peered inside the dimly lit room, making out the shapes of two double beds and a few nightstands. I flicked the switch on, causing the room to flood with light, and I raise a hand, shielding my eyes from the sudden brightness.

It wasn't until the sound came to an abrupt stop that I realised there had been noise to begin with. I turned my head curiously. I scrunched up my nose when I saw a mane of blonde hair underneath a very tanned and very naked young man.

He rolled off the bed and I jerk back at his bareness. His muscles danced as he yanked his jeans on in one fluid movement and jogged over to me.

"You are?"

I didn't answer his question but asked my own. "Am I in the right room?"

"I assume so," the blonde-haired girl responded, getting up. She, too, pulled her clothes on. She sauntered over to me and looked me up and down in inspection, just as the young man before me had. "Imogen." 

"Hayley," I replied in the same tone, meeting her gaze coolly.

Imogen's long blonde hair falls in waves down her shoulders, resting messily at her hips. The first thing I noticed, though, is she is the same height as me. I was much taller than all my friends back home.

"And I'm Chase," the guy butted in, smiling charmingly. 

Chase's eyes traveled over my body yet again, and I quirked an eyebrow. I was used to attention from boys. 

I was a model for a clothing store back at home. Well, I used to be. Ever since my Dad died... everything had spun out of control for me. My perfect life had come crashing down, and I still hadn't picked up the pieces.

Which is why I was here.

"You didn't see anything here," Imogen told me, flicking her eyes to mine and shaking her finger between the two of them, to emphasise her point.

I nodded, suppressing the urge to salute her. This earned a dazzling smile from her. She pecked Chase's lips and with another smirk, exited our room, still shirtless. I walked towards the left bed and dumped my stuff.

"Please tell me you haven't done stuff in my bed," I groaned, not bothering to try to keep the disgust out of my voice.

She snorted. "No, just mine."

"Good."

I unpacked, throwing my things into random drawers and cupboards on my side of the room. I felt her eyes on me and looked up, raising an eyebrow. When she didn't say anything, I sighed in annoyance.

"Yes?"

"I'm checking you out. You're hot," she stated, cocking her head to the side. 

"I'm not into girls."

"Shame," she smirked. "We could have a lot of fun."

I give her a flat look and chose not to comment.

"So, what landed you here in this infamous school?" she asked, collapsing onto my bed and propping herself up on her elbows. "I'm dying to know the goss on the new girl."

"Not interested in talking about it."

She let out a puff of air, as though knowing before me replying, that I was going to say that. 

"That's what they all say."

Waves of exhaustion roll over me and for a panicked second I thought I might collapse, but the moment passed.

"Come on," she persisted. "Tell me."

I banged my fists down onto my bedside table and snapped my head to hers, my eyes narrowing. 

"If you don't shut the fuck up, I will make you."

Her eyes widened at my outburst and she rolled off the bed, shrugging nonchalantly.

 "Mmkay, whatever. It's getting late. Let's go to bed. Tomorrow, I'll show you around."

I blinked at her for a moment, expecting more of a reaction from my outburst. I stared at her and she slipped underneath the covers and turned, so her back was facing me. I let myself sink down onto the bed and bury my head into my hands.

Since I had been lying awake for what felt like an eon, the tiniest little sound made my over-hyped senses electrify. I snapped my eyes open for the umpteenth time tonight. Sighing, I rolled onto my feet.

Throwing an oversized jumper of Gabe's over my head, I pad to the door silently and slip out into the hall.

I had made it twenty steps before I was violently reefed backward. I yelped, and a hand clasped over my mouth. In defense, I struck my leg out backward, connecting with the person's hamstring. I spun around and projected my hand forward, only for it to be stopped, about an inch from the person's jaw.

"I would advise you to not try that again." The security guard clipped. "You're already in trouble for being out of your dorm."

"How much trouble?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Lots."

"This is my first night here and I'm having the worst sleep in history. I'm assuming there isn't any warm milk floating around?"

"Warm milk?" he echoed.

"Yeah."

It was silent for a few moments before he burst out laughing. He doubled over, using the wall to support himself. I sighed angrily, yanking my fist from his hold, and planting my hands on my hips. He slapped his knee. I waited a few moments for him to sober up. He finally straightened trying to wipe the amusement from his face.

"Done yet?"

"Y-yep." he chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Good. If you didn't know Einstein, but warm milk is calming for your body and helps you sleep, since any pills I brought here was confiscated. Instead of laughing and making yourself look like an insensitive twat, you should be offering to help me because if you don't, this will not be our only nightly encounter."

"We don't really supply 'goodies'," he laughed, his body still shaking.

"What the hell is this place?" I asked in exasperation to no one in particular. I shook my head, frowning. "I swear I'll commit before the terms up."

His eyes widened, the laughter dropping from him instantly. "Jesus, I have a code red on my hands. Do I need to put you on suicide watch?"

"It's called sarcasm, jerk." I spat out. "Don't worry about it. Being kind is obviously above your paygrade."

With that final statement, I spun on my heel and marched back to my dorm. When I opened the door, I was surprised to see a small light. This indicated that Imogen was awake and on her phone. She looked up at me as I entered.

"She returns."

"Is the commentary necessary?" I questioned, slipping off my shoes and crawling back onto my bed. I slipped under the covers and shrugged my cardigan off, throwing it off to the side somewhere.

"Where were you?" she asked, ignoring my question.

"I wanted some warm milk."

She giggled. "Warm milk?"

I scowled at her, my patience running thin.

"Okay, stop laughing now."

"You know, you're pretty rude. I've only been nice to you and I'm not a nice person. You should consider yourself blessed."

"I never asked you to be nice."

"Well, it'll help when we become friends."

"I'm not looking for friends," I replied flatly.

"People at this school are like wolves. They come in packs. If you're a lone wolf, they will target you and rip you to shreds."

"Thanks for the nice simile there, but I think I'll be fine."

"Okay, good night, Hayley. Tomorrow, I'll show you the school."

I don't have the energy to argue. I drag myself into bed and sink under the covers, wishing this whole thing was a dream I am yet to wake up from.

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