As I sauntered into the building I realised and I had absolutely no idea where I was going, I'd insulted the one person I knew here and had probably labelled myself as a slut to the entire male population here. Why did I have to screw everything up?

I was mentally kicking myself while still trying to look confident in strutting down the halls. I was only getting myself more lost. God I was an idiot.

I was so distracted by my own stupidity and impulsiveness that I was completely oblivious to where I was going that when I spun round a corner aimlessly I went crashing straight into something rock hard and painfully solid.

"Ouch," I cried as my whole body flew back and landed with a thump on the hard wood floor. My hold all swung in front of me and landed painfully on my chest lighting up a burning paining my rib cage. I think one of my ribs might have just been re-bruised. I slammed my eyes shut to halt any tears that threatened to escape, I would not cry, I couldn't. I wasn't weak or pathetic. I wouldn't cry.

"I'm am so sorry," a deep voice that reminded me of an echo in a dark alley cut across my thoughts. My eyes sprung back open to see what or who I had crashed into.

A 6'4 wall of muscle. I could still feel how solid he had been when I'd bumped into him. But the look on his face didn't reflect his tough physique. He looked truly sorry and had a hand reached out to pull me up. I took it cautiously and as his huge hand double the size of mine gripped me and yanked me up with unsurprising strength I took the chance to soak him in.

A real life Michelin man. Bulging through his black designer t-shirt and Levi jeans with rippling and rolling muscles. He had huge shoulders that stuck out like the branches of a tree then slimmed down to a thin waist. A swimmers body.

My eyes continued up his body to his face. It was just as tough as his body, a fierce jaw line, square face and green eyes that gleamed with an menacing protectiveness. However, there was something soft, round and gentle about his face, a kindness hidden in his mouth and eyes.

"Thanks," I finally replied dumbly as I retracted my hand from his. I realised he was sussing me out too.

"I'm so sorry," he shook his head, "are you okay? I feel so bad."

"You should Mitch you sent her bloody flying," a voice chimed in and I realised two other guys were loitering either side of The Wall watching the scene unfold. The one who'd spoken had a cheeky smirk on his face and a glint of mischief in his eye.

"It's fine, honestly," I've endured much worst, I almost added but stopped myself just in time.

"It's not though," Mitch, I think the other guy called him, shook his head miserably, "I feel awful."

"Don't," I replied simply with a nonchalant shrug, "I've already forgotten about it."

"Really?" Mitch looked up hopefully.

"Of course not douche face she's just being polite," the mischievous looking guy who'd spoken before chipped in again. If I had to guess I'd say he was Hispanic but the stunning olive complexion of his face and thick black hair was hard to place.

"Shut it Nico," Mitch elbowed him playfully, but with arms that big that had to hurt.

"Aw," Nico complained clutching his arm dramatically, "I was just saying what everyone was thinking."

"I'm fine," I repeated more forcefully this time. My butt was ringing with pain from smacking it on the wood floor, my ribs were burning and I was pretty sure I'd done something to my right wrist which I'd landed on. Of course he didn't need to know that. I didn't want people thinking I was weak.

"Really?" another voice chimed in, I glanced at the third member of the possy who was equally as striking as the other two.

He was African American with rich dark skin and cropped black hair in tight curls. He had huge pensive brown eyes and a thoughtful twist to his mouth. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me, it looked like a lot. I hated the way he looked at me, like he was peeling away the defensive, impenetrable wall I'd built around myself. Like he could see me, the real me. I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"Really," I lied, I didn't know who I was trying to convince, them or myself. The Thinker just stared at me, thinking so I sighed, "how about you do me a favour and we call it quits?"

"Anything," The Wall clung onto the idea immediately, he clearly felt really guilty for what he'd done. Even though it was really my fault for not looking where I was going.

"Can you show me to my room, I just got here and have no idea where I'm going," I admitted hating how helpless I sounded.

"You're Schmitt's daughter," The Thinker stated factually and the other two boys eyes zeroed in on more more closely.

"No," my voice dripped with sarcasm, "I'm one of the many girls that go to school here."

"You're Schmitty's kid," The Joker shook his head dumbfounded.

"No way," The Wall chimed in, in his deep voice that was like a rock hitting the bottom of a well.

"Unfortunately yes," I sighed realising this was going to be everyone reaction, I looked absolutely nothing like my father. I was nothing like him.

"You're Schmitt's daughter," The Wall repeated again in disbelief, did he have a problem, hadn't I already confirmed this?

"I think we've established that I am," I acknowledged with a sigh, "now can you show me where I'm staying?"

"Where's your dad, shouldn't he be showing you?" My eyes swivelled to The Thinker in annoyance as he pointed out my problem.

"Well I think I've pissed him off," I explained but didn't expand as to why, leaving The Thinker with knitted eyebrows and eyes that I could see cogs whirring behind as he went through scenarios.

"I'm Mitchell by the way," the Wall introduced, "sorry I should've said earlier, this is Nico," he nodded to The Joker, "and Sawyer," The Thinker. They seemed used to him introducing them. Was Mitchell their mouthpiece?

"Cara," I smiled, had I actually made friends? Was it really that easy?

"Nice to meet you Cara Schmitt," Mitchell beamed welcomingly.

"Collins," I corrected without thinking, "Cara Collins." Then I slammed my mouth shut realising I'd just opened the doors to a thousand more questions. The look on my face must have deterred them from pushing the matter though as Mitchell stepped back and extended an arm the way he'd come,

"Right this way Cara Collins."