Cassie did a pretty good job at avoiding me the next day. Not once had she looked my way or given me any attention in gym or math class. Was she afraid that I would walk up to her and talk openly about her living with me if she glanced my way?

My quest to charm her into my arms had ended the day I had learned she was homeless. The girl had enough problems, more than I could imagine. I would only add to it if I tried anything with her.

Still, as I had stood in the kitchen with her the night before, observing as she cleaned her face and shirt, there was nothing more I wanted to do than help her.

I shook my head. Cassie was an exception. So what, if I didn't have every single girl in our grade wanting me, it was just a pointless goal I had set to pass the time in this boring school.

About ten minutes after I had arrived home from school, Cassie and Celine entered the house. I heard my mom, who was sitting on the other end of the couch, welcome them in as I flipped through the channels on the television. My school bag was positioned under my outstretched feet on the couch.

"Can I watch TV too?" Celine asked Cassie as they walked into the living room. I guessed Cassie had nodded, because soon enough, Celine sat down next to me. Her backpack was on the floor in front of her, forgotten as she beheld the show that was playing on the television.

"Your backpack, Ce," I heard Cassie's voice behind me. Celine picked up her backpack and, without looking away from the television, she handed it to Cassie.

I was almost startled when Cassie let out a small laugh at her sister. It was troubling how rare one of those carefree sounds of her was.

Just as I was about to finally get the laundry my mother had been telling me to retrieve for the past five minutes, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it. Just take the clean clothes out of the machine, Jules," she announced, looking pointedly at me and nodding towards the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and made my way through the kitchen and into the laundry room just as I heard her open the front door.

With a pile of my own clean clothing under my left arm and Cassie's t-shirt in my right, I made my way toward the kitchen door. My feet froze when I heard the deep voice around the corner.

"I think now is an appropriate time to ask why a child is watching television in my house."

I walked slowly to the laundry door, looking through the crack that separated us. Just as I had thought, my father stood in the kitchen with my mom, his shoes and jacket still on.

The sound from the action movie playing on the television dimmed when mom closed the glass door between the kitchen and living room. She turned back to my dad.

"Oh, that's Celine. Her sister, Cassandra, is Julian's former tutor. They're staying here for a bit while their parents are on vacation. Their house is in the middle of being redecorated. An awfully strange time for the parents to go on vacation, don't you think?"

"Odd timing, indeed." My father mumbled, staring absently at the wall beside the door. Sighing, he turned back to my mother.

I hated the adoration in her eyes as she looked back at him. To her, he was still her one and only love. Even after he had left us and sent her the divorce papers to be signed almost four years ago. Even after he had taken my only friend with him, she still loved him.

I was only disgusted.

"Where is our boy, anyway? I haven't seen him today."

"Let's be real, you would have liked it to stay that way."

My mother looked to the door opening where I now stood, her disapproving gaze resting heavily on me as she took in my words. My father shook his head with a small smirk before looking at me. We were almost the same height, still, he seemed to be looming over me.

"It's always such a pleasure to see how much my boy has grown," he turned fully toward me, sizing me up. "You're even starting so resemble me when I was your age, boy."

I clenched my jaw and met his cold, dark blue eyes with my hazel ones. At that moment, I was thankful I had my mother's eyes, instead of his.

Zayden has those dark blue eyes.

Zayden had those dark blue eyes; I corrected myself bitterly as I moved my glare away from the bastard.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to be nothing like you." I moved past him and shook my head ever so slightly as I met my mother's concerned stare. Please don't take him back.

She deserved better than that scum.

Propping Celine's backpack against her bed, I practically threw my own bag onto my bed without a second glance. Feeling uncomfortably hot in my sweater, I took it off as I made my way to the closet. I was careful to not make too many sudden movements because of my aching limbs from the night before.

I stopped in front of the mirror by the closet. A small bruise had formed on my jaw, thankfully not too noticeable. There was also a deep purple colored bruise on my collarbone. A fist-sized mark was positioned just under my ribcage. Then there was the ugly, and definitely biggest, bruise on my left side, on my oblique.

I almost cringed when I thought of the possibility that someone could be lucky enough to land another hit on that bruise tonight. Looking away from my reflection, I opened the closet.

My mind wandered to the conversation I had heard the night before at the bar.

I could not help but feel uneasy whenever I thought about it. I could have sworn I had heard one of the voices before. Whether it was the one who left right after or the one who stayed on the balcony, I didn't know.

All I knew was that drinking beer and betting for a fighter to win wasn't the only thing going on in the bar while I was in the ring.

"-I have a chance to prove myself to the gang."

Gangs had been nothing out of the ordinary back in Range Lake. Even so, the only times I had witnessed them were in the alley street fights I had attended. I had been put up against some of them several times. From what gangs they were from, I never knew or bothered to find out.

I never wanted to be a part of gang life. It would mean nothing but trouble for both my family and me. Therefore, I had always made sure to quickly and expertly sneak into the alleys, do no more than three fights, and hurry away. I was not risking having them follow me to find a way to force me into joining the gang.

Apparently I hadn't moved far enough to escape these gangs.

Then, of course, there was the disturbing comment of killing the other person unnoticed with just 'the snap of his fingers. ' It had sounded like an underlying promise; a promise from a man in a high enough position to actually be able to make that happen. The same man had also said he was going to give the other man a chance to fight for leadership in his gang.

My eyes narrowed in concentration.

In his little gang, he had said. Which would mean he would have to be a part of a bigger gang. Maybe there was a conflict between these gangs? What girl were they talking about? A love interest stuck between two gang members?

I groaned. Why was I even thinking about this?

Picking a random long sleeved shirt from the closet in front of me, I started to button it up when I heard a knock on the door. I only had time to take a step toward the door before it opened and Julian strode in. Why even bother to knock if he was just going to waltz right in anyway.

He didn't venture too far into the room before halting.

"Sorry, but you took too long to answer," he grumbled.

I finished buttoning up the shirt, before looking up at him with a cocked eyebrow. He held a look of frustration, as he looked hard at the floor in front of him, gripping the shirt in his hand tightly. Was that my shirt?

He glanced up at me. Noticing me look at the shirt in his curled up hand, he eased the grip on it. What had gotten him so distraught?

"Right, I got your shirt. As clean as ever."

He held it out for me. His gaze travelled south of my face, to my collarbone, and he frowned. From looking at the mirror earlier, I knew he was looking at the purple colored bruise that had formed over the night. It was the reason I had to wear a high collar sweater to school today, resulting in me sweating by second period.

"Thank you." I took the shirt and held it up in front of me, amazed by how clean it looked. I couldn't even remember the last time I had bothered to clean it, as it would only get just as dirty the next night. Throwing it on one of the shelves, I turned back around only to see Julian still standing there.

"I also wanted to talk to you about your need for a job."

I couldn't hide the look of surprise as I stared back. "What are you talking about? I already have a job."

He huffed. "Come on, Cass, you have to move on. You can't fight in the bar forever. Obviously it has an effect on you, mentally and" his eyes quickly swept over my figure, eyes somewhat pained "... physically."

My jaw clenched. "I can handle the fighting just fine. I've done it long before I moved here."

"Why didn't you just get a day job?"

"A storage job wouldn't pay the bills," I answered shortly.

"I'm pretty sure a sixteen-year-old can get a better job than that. Your parents must have had some contacts, or some kind of family business to take over?"

"I was fourteen." The familiar look of surprise crossed his face. "And no, they didn't. The second my dad was shot, his mechanic shop was handed to the co-owner. My mom was a piano teacher. Not much business to be handed to their heritage."

By the way his eyes widened, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I definitely hadn't meant to tell him that. Of course this guy would be the first and only person I had told what happened to my dad. It felt strange to say it out loud without my mother glaring at me and telling me to stop mentioning her husband's death.

My brows furrowed when I felt arms around me. How he had gotten close enough to hug me in the second I had closed my eyes, I had no idea. He must have misunderstood the reason why I did it.

Oh, when will he understand that I'd never show sadness in his presence.

For a split second, I stood frozen. His brown hair tickled the side of my face, and my arms hung slack at my sides while his were around my waist. I hoped it was as awkward for him as it was for me. At least then he would learn to not do it again.

In one simple move, I had swiftly ducked underneath his left arm and moved to stand a couple of paces away from him. As if he had expected me to do that, he reached out and caught my elbow before I could move away. By instinct, I rotated my arm, making his palm turn upwards and jerked my hand out of his grip. My side burned from the motion.

"Cassie, stop." He sounded frustrated and drew a hand through his hair as he turned to me. "Was that really necessary?"

I blinked, not answering, and observed him.

He appeared tense, a little tired, and confused. His hands were now locked behind his head, slowly dragging down and finally settling around his neck as he breathed out. A surprising pang of guilt shot through me. The fact that an innocent hug had filled me with such dread was unsettling.

It took me a moment to register that he was staring back at me. His head tilted slightly. He shook his head and huffed.

"What are you doing?" I questioned.

"Trying to figure you out. Now, what is it that prevents the new girl from getting a normal job?"

"Have fun pondering on that important and not at all time-wasting question."

"Is that sarcasm I hear?" he smiled a little.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" I mumbled as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

I took the phone out and opened it just in time to see the screen go black. I sighed. I had charged it up this morning and had barely used it throughout the day, still the battery tapped away.

I made my way over to my bed and plugged the charger in the phone, setting it down on the bedside table when the charging battery symbol showed.

Pain shot from my left oblique as I straightened. Gritting my teeth, I restrained myself from grabbing at my side. My freeze-up didn't go unnoticed, and soon enough Julian asked me if I was OK.

I nodded, forcing my face to remain impassive as I turned back around. The thought of having to go back to the bar with this physical ache, wasn't tempting. "If I were to get a normal day job, where would I be able to find one that wouldn't ask for too much... information?"

"There's an opening in the coffee shop I work at. It's the reason I came to ask if you would want to get a day job," he replied. "The owner is a family friend. I'm sure I can get you the job if you want it."

Me, working at a coffee shop. Talking, with customers. I would rather take my chances against a whole gang in the ring, than be dressed in one of those aprons.

My mind drifted to my current job situation.

Bruised and tired, each one of my nights ending with yet another ache on my body that I would desperately try to numb.

I was barely awake in class, missing important information for upcoming exams.

I was already behind in History.

My teachers hated me.

No good grades equal no good paying job in the future.

Noting my immediate doubt, he continued. "It's a popular shop, so the payment is pretty good, too. It's also just a few minutes from school. My boss needs an employee who can work an after-school shift, when it's the busiest."

He told me that I would be able to do my schoolwork in the breaks, as he usually did.

It would only be two days a week, meaning I would have the other three schooldays free to rest, concentrate on school and gather strength for the bar fights on the weekends.

My income would decrease, but my overall health would get better. Only one or two more days, and I would have enough money for the apartment. However, I would have to be able to pay rent, electricity, furniture and groceries as well.

Plus, the thought of having a stable job for once sounded appealing.

I rolled my neck, loosening up the tense knots that had formed. "Will I be able to visit this coffee shop before I consider this?"

He gave me a half smile. "You'll join me tomorrow, then. Be ready to leave by eight o'clock."

He winked before exiting, his mood noticeably better than when he arrived.

________________________