"They're saying you broke a chair, tore down a Picasso, and tried to stab Madison with a butter knife," Theo says as he kicks the ball towards him.

Nick splutters and stops. "What?"

Will is shaking his head. "I heard it was a fork," he puts in helpfully, tackling him easily and taking the football from him. "Apparently, you tried to stab her with a fork, first and then you tried to break the chair."

"Which doesn't make sense," Theo adds. "Because why would you try to stab her and then break a chair?"

"You know what also doesn't make sense?" Nick says, attacking Theo and Will both, using his heavy frame against them, and tearing the football away in triumph. "Me breaking a chair and ruining a painting, when all I did was flip a small table."

"What about trying to stab Madison?"

Nick pauses, looks tempted. "Well, much as I'd really want to –," He breaks himself off, snickering at Will, whose eyes widen like saucers, as he shakes his head. "No, I didn't stab the bitch."

Though God only knew she deserved it.

He's never been so infuriated by a single person so much before.

Not even Mitchell has achieved such a feat but Madison Sutton, with her designer wardrobe and her ice-cold gaze, her barbed words, infuriates him. For all her beauty, there's nothing but a manipulative, raging bitch lying underneath the surface, brimming over and dripping with expensive, fancy jewels.

And yet...

He's sure he's gotten under her skin, just as much as she gets under his, but she did save him from a week's worth of detentions from Mr Bates, who is really growing unhealthily obsessed with him. They're no longer snarling at each other but the air between them has shifted, a little, in light of it and so, in the most sensible way, they'd both chosen to successfully ignore each other. He'd saved her and she'd saved him back. They could now go on with their lives, unmarred.

Plus, his mother would not have been happy. She'd even asked him if he had anything to do with the pranks and through the haze of feeling affronted, Nick had had to remind her that he's not been in Redwood long enough to pull off pranks. Plus, his pranks would be slightly more sophisticated and way better than shutting the school down, but Nick had thought better of telling his mother this particular sentiment.

The air between them is still fraught and tangible now, he thinks. His mother is walking on eggshells around him, choosing every word she uses with delicate precision, in an attempt to make him not feel like a file.

Nick is still wondering when she'll give up.

He's so lost in thought that he doesn't notice Theo managing to get the jump on him. The football-mad boy takes the ball from him easily, crowing with laughter as the bell rings. Nick laughs and tackles Theo again, grabbing the ball from him, before they move towards history, through the throng of rushing students.

The students part before him, again, and Will and Theo are cracking up in glee.

"They're all scared to death of you," Will tells him, his smile too wide against his face.

Nick rolls his eyes. He's too thick-skinned to let strangers get him and though Madison's attempts at getting him expelled have stopped, the whole thing does all seem ridiculous.

"Do they think I'm going to stab them all?"

"Well, that's just stupid," Theo points out. "You're not that fast. You can't stab them all, not without being stopped."

"You don't have to be fast," Will argues back. "You just have to be clever."

"I agree with Will," Nick says, his blade burning in the back of his pocket. "I'm a clever bastard. I'd make it work."

The conversation then descends into a debate about whether or not Nick would be able to successfully stab the entire student body and how he would go about achieving such a feat. Nick rolls his eyes at the two but he feels a surge of affection thrum up within his chest for the two. They have made his stay in school a little more bearable.

"You two are freaks," Nick points out, when Theo begins to argue that Nick's football skills and stabbing skills do not, and will never, coincide. "I wouldn't have to kill them all. I'd just wait for the education system to do it first."

Theo barks out a laugh but the sound fades, when his eyes widen a little. "Hottest girl in school has to be Tallulah Worthington," he says.

Nick blinks, turning his head to see aforementioned girl stalk down the hallways, before he can stop himself. Her friends are not beside her, he realises, and tries to ignore the strangely disappointed beat of his heart.

Will is snorting at him. "Like she'd ever look twice at your ugly mug."

"Never lose hope, my friend," Theo says optimistically. "Look at your face, for example. If there's hope for you, there's hope for us all. Plus, there's Kyle's party this weekend. There's no way she'll miss that."

"Why not?" Will argues, clearly smarting. "She missed Ash's party. Plus, she doesn't owe you anything."

"Everyone missed Ash's party," Theo points out. "He fell more than a few rungs off the social ladder. And I'll earn her love. Girls love gentlemen."

He's still as cheerful as ever, calling out to Tallulah and waving at her cheerfully. The girl wrinkles her nose distastefully towards him before she goes into her class, leaving both Will and Nick chortling. Theo's face has dimmed slightly so Nick says, "Don't let it get you down, mate. Those girls think they're too good for you, but you're better."

So saying, he chuckles as he enters the history classroom.

Nick's gaze falls on Madison almost immediately, his entire body tightening in defence. She hasn't noticed him yet, her eyes raking the bright flickering light of her phone almost obsessively as she taps away hurriedly. She's just as beautiful in school as she is out of it, but that doesn't make her any less evil, Nick thinks as he parts his way easily through the room, to the back.

Madison notices him as he moves, her head lifting, and their gazes meet for the barest second.

The air between them turns frosty with dislike. She throws him a spectacularly dirty look, one that Nick returns with a brilliant roll of his eyes.

Well, then, same to you, too.

*

Madison bristles briefly as Nick seats himself lazily, languidly relaxing, as the teacher enters the classroom. But she straightens her back and reminds herself that it is beneath her to get so defensive and let herself fall to ruin because of a few pesky emotions.

Yes, she had saved Nick a week's worth of detentions but that doesn't mean anything. They're only quietly civil to each other and instead of speaking, they content themselves with throwing each other the dirtiest looks they can muster. Madison is pleased that she seems to be winning for nothing can rival her dirty looks.

Maria is already snoozing, as the teacher speaks but she startles upright, when Elliot arrives. The boy barges into the class loudly, to the teacher's annoyance, and collapses into his seat, choosing only to roll his eyes when the history teacher gifts him a late slip.

"I would ask, Mr Bradford, that you observe proper courtesy next time," she tells him strictly.

"Frigid bitch," Maria mutters but her gaze flickers briefly, in worry, to Madison and then to Elliot. "What's wrong?"

"My parents are pissed," Elliot hisses, glaring daggers at the teacher, who, thankfully, hasn't heard him or is wisely choosing not to. "Hawthorne boy broke a priceless vase or something, lost us the merger, and Dad's been shouting the whole weekend. He does my head in sometimes."

"Oh, it's Hawthorne boy again?" Madison comments icily. "Here I thought the two of you were sipping martinis and painting your nails together."

Elliot flashes her an apologetic look. "You were right, I never should have invited him, you're utterly amazing, happy?" he tells her.

Madison bends her head in acknowledgement of her fabulousness. "Ecstatic." She eyes Elliot with some apprehension, not letting it show. Her friend looks truly worried and she's never seen him in such a chaotic state, his hair in shambles and his face ashen. "Do your parents need a contribution? A Sutton hand –,"

"No," Elliot says quickly, too quickly that it makes Madison's brows furrow together in confusion. "We're – we're fine. Dad was just really hoping for the Hawthornes to sign on."

Elliot is terrible at lying. Madison taps her pencil patiently against the wood of the desk, Maria watching her with some unease lingering in the light of her eyes. Madison's voice is languid and tinged with a coolness. "Was he, now?"

"Look, Madison," Elliot says finally, letting out a breath as some of his earlier irritation slides from his features. "You've already given us so much help – it's a bit..."

"What?"

"Embarrassing," Elliot admits, his voice a whisper, and his cheeks turn a brilliant red. "Don't get offended – I love you but we're doing good, trust me. It's fine, it's all fine." He turns his head quickly, changing the subject. "Where's Audrey?"

Maria fills the quiet silence thrumming between them, speaking quickly, and Madison doesn't let a trace of emotion show on her face. "Says she was too busy to come to History, she had something to do, but she'll be here by lunch or something."

Elliot hums. "This is the fifth time she's missed morning class," he comments, his voice a forced light as his gaze flickers to Madison.

For her part, Madison is attempting to keep her cool. If she hadn't attended all those finishing school classes in her childhood, she's sure she would be flushing just as hotly as Elliot. Which is ridiculous because, if anything, she shouldn't be embarrassed. She's just being a good friend – no, a great friend.

Great friends protect each other.

She wonders vaguely whether the Bradfords would benefit from an anonymous donation, too, but discards the idea almost as quickly as it flits through her head. It'll look too suspicious, right after Lula's anonymous donation, so it wouldn't be too difficult for them to connect the dots, and Madison can't have that. She knows her friends and if Elliot is reacting the way he is now, she's not wholly certain her friends would approve.

It doesn't matter if they don't approve.

What matters is that her friends are in trouble and she can help them.

The teacher is clearing her throat and putting her hands together for quiet. "Now, these are the results from last week's test. Pass them around, Diana, thank you. Those who received a red stamp should see me immediately after class..."

Diana sends Madison a look of utter hatred that Madison breezily ignores, picking up the test paper. Elliot is already binning his and Maria hisses something out in Spanish towards the scholarship girl, managing to easily chase the girl away, before she leans forward and begins to doodle on her own paper.

"What is that bitch's problem?" Maria voices, her eyes narrowing after Diana's back.

"She's not me," Madison says airily, before her gaze flickers against the paper and she stills.

Eighty-three marks out of a hundred.

Eighty-three? Eighty-three?

How can she get a measly eighty-three marks, when she gets full marks every other lesson? When she had slaved over the revision for this stupid history module, revising everything about the fall of Marie Antoinette and the stupid French Revolution, who went way overboard with all the guillotining? Madison is horrified at the paper before she rummages through the pages, to make certain that the scholarship troll hasn't mistaken her for another.

But this is her paper.

Eighty-three marks.

Mother is going to be so angry.

There's no question as to whether Mother will be able to discover Madison's results – Madison expects her mother will already have known, even before her – but she dreads the crushing disappointment already. Mother expects perfection and Madison strives to achieve it, refuses to entertain the thought of anything else.

"...Diana, who has gotten full marks!" the teacher says, to an unenthusiastic smattering of applause.

Madison's head snaps up.

Full marks?

She won't make a scene because that's beneath her, nor will she confront the history teacher, who so clearly has favourites. Neither can she have the foolish lady fired because Mother would most certainly disapprove. Mother doesn't like firing or getting rid of people to be a solution to a problem but Madison only uses such a tactic as a last resort.

Instead, Madison stews angrily, stung.

"Your writing is fantastic, too, and the enigmatic, sympathetic argument you made for Marie Antoinette is enlightening, unlike some, who chose to take the rather critical viewpoint," the teacher is continuing, and Madison knows the thinly veiled barb is aimed at her, she who refused to cut the fallen queen any slack. She won't back off her own argument. Madison still stands by her statement: Bitch should have known better. "Diana, you have talent."

It's as though the knife, which was already stuck into her chest, has been buried deeper.

She is smarting painfully.

"Talent's not real, Miss." Madison turns her head sharply. Nick opens a sleepy eye, his gaze flickering from her to the teacher, as his lips spread into that annoying false smile. He continues, "Hard work is."

The teacher looks annoyed, her lips already parting to, no doubt, tell Nick to get out of her classroom as she, and the rest of the teachers of the school, are wont to do, whenever the Hawthorne boy so much as breathes. Madison clears her throat delicately and lifts her head, fixing the teacher with a hard gaze.

"Practice makes perfect, after all," she agrees lightly, to everyone's shock. To Elliot and Maria's credit, they barely look fazed but for the briefest flicker of surprise that flashes through the light of their eyes. The rest of their class are akin to gawping monkeys, staring with wide eyes. "You shouldn't be perpetuating the idea that talent is all you need to get by in this world. That's poor teaching, on your part, and just something poor people made up to make themselves feel better about being poor. Nobody has talent. And nobody wants to hear another episode of you kissing scholarship girl's ass."

This time, everyone in the class is stunned, even Elliot and Maria.

Only Nick is smirking, his lips curved upwards as his gaze flickers to Madison. She wants to smack that smug look off his face and tell him that she is not defending him, she is defending herself. But she's already made enough of a scene, as it is.

The teacher is looking utterly gobsmacked, her jaw dropping open.

This is not Madison's way. She doesn't raise her voice, she doesn't speak out loud, she doesn't make a scene. It is Nick's stupid face and the stupid history teacher's penchant for favouritism that made her do this, Madison thinks.

As though this was not enough, Nick nods. "Got to agree with the queen there," he adds, and Madison thinks she might actually kill him. "Scholarship girl's a bore."

The bell rings, the sharp sound cutting cleanly through the silenced classroom like a knife. Madison is thrumming with muted panic and frustration. Now, the entire school will know that she and Nick have agreed on something for once. She's lucky if it takes a whole day until people begin to speculate whether or not they're secretly dating.

If she knows the school's rumour mill – and she does, having made sufficient use of it, a few times – there's a fifty percent chance people are going to start thinking she's pregnant and Nick's the father, by lunchtime alone.

And Madison can't deal with her reputation being dragged through the mud in such a way.

It's an insult.

How can someone like her, ever even begin to think of lowering themselves to willingly entertain Nick's company?

Everyone is already beginning to pack away their things and it's too late for Madison to salvage whatever dignity she has left. The awkwardness still thrums in the air, filled by a string of uncomfortable conversations. Madison lifts herself from her seat elegantly, dropping her test paper into her bag, as Elliot and Maria chatter away quickly, about mundane things, sensing the irritation coming off her in waves.

She knows her friends are surprised. Madison isn't one to express her emotions so vocally. Not even her own mother can sometimes tell what goes on in her head. They're awkward and they don't know how to deal so Madison clears her throat.

"I don't know who that Hawthorne boy thinks he is but it's entirely your fault, Elliot, that he thinks he can speak to me," Madison says accusingly.

Relief spreads across both Maria and Elliot's faces, embarrassingly fast, as the atmosphere between them goes back to something more familiar and comforting. Elliot is already beginning to smile with relief. "How many times do I have to apologise for you to forgive me?"

"Clearly a lot, seeing as you think verbal apologies are going to do anything," Madison replies as they make their way out of the classroom. "I take Chanel bags and Manolo Blahniks."

"Oh, yeah," Maria says, "dinner with my family's out. They're being too much so I was thinking of going to the Spring Tree, Madison."

Madison bites down her disappointment. She likes dining with Maria's family but she can't show that. Instead, she hums in acknowledgement. "The Spring Tree sounds nice," she says and Maria's lips bloom into a grateful smile.

Across the halls, Audrey is entering and looking for them.

"Madison?"

It's scholarship girl.

Seeing Madison's face, Maria wrinkles her nose. "Did you hear something?"

Elliot shakes his head but Diana has already caught up to them, her face flushed and embarrassingly breathless. She glares at them angrily, but her focus is more on Madison, who has been the object of both unadulterated adoration and vehement hatred for so long that she grows bored. Madison's gaze falls to Audrey, who is still searching the crowds for them.

"My name is Diana," Scholarship girl punctuates with annoyance. "And whatever this thing you have against me, Madison, you better come out with it now."

Madison raises an eyebrow.

Scholarship girl is beginning to make a scene in the school corridor. People are beginning to stop in their tracks to watch, looking amused. A few have their phones out already and Audrey is making her way towards them. Elliot is eyeing Madison, waiting patiently to know what to do.

Maria looks ready to throw the girl to the ground and when she looks at Madison, she murmurs the question. "Can I hit her?"

Madison shakes her head minutely, to Maria's disappointment. She waits, wondering if Diana will make a good enough point for her to stay longer than a few minutes. She owes scholarship girl that much, at least, she supposes.

"Don't play dumb," Diana scowls at her. "You've been on my back since the moment I got here – you've had the rest of the school try to make my life hell in this place –,"

Madison is already bored.