Reality came in the form of my dad.

My foot had barely touched the fourth floor of the west wing, the seniors floor when my so-called-dad came storming down the hallway towards me. I could practically see the stream protruding from his ears.

"Where have you been?" He demanded furiously before I even had the chance to open my mouth.

"Getting a tour," I replied blandly, folding my arms and putting on my defensive, uncaring mask.

"I've been looking for you all damn day," dad hissed in frustration.

"Clearly not hard enough," I yawned slightly, pretending to be bored at this whole situation.

"Cara," dads voice was laced with warning, it was the epitome of a stern teacher voice. When I showed no signs of caring he let out a long considered sigh before continuing, "well you're here now so I'll make my announcement but this is far from over."

"Sure," I batted away easily. I'd already forgotten about this warnings, he wasn't a proper dad, he couldn't tell me what to do.

"Attention," dad turned his back on me and bellowed down the corridor, "I want all seniors here now."

In clusters, forty 17-18 year old boys appeared from their rooms all looking thoroughly interested in the scene which was to follow. I shifted uncomfortably under the amount of stares boring into me. I felt distinctly outnumbered, I'd never seen this many boys in such a small space.

"Jesus," I hissed under my breath as my gaze swept from face to gorgeous face of the wealthy, well-bred, well-dressed sons of millionaires. What the hell was I doing here?

"You've probably all heard that this is my daughter Cara, she'll be staying here until a better arrangement can be sorted out," dad began in a quiet voice but an authoritative tone that instantly had the focus of every boy in the room. I had to give it to him, he knew how to command attention. "She's staying at the room at the end of the hall, it's not an ideal arrangement but I expect everyone to act maturely and responsibly about this. New rules will have to be introduced, if Cara is in any room or if you're in hers the door must be open, this is non negotiable and if broken will have severe consequences," a slow murmur ran through out the hallway, " additionally, I want you all to treat Cara with the utmost respect just as I expect her to treat all of you. If I hear any different and believe me I always hear, there will be consequences."

I rolled my eyes, this whole thing was just so pompous and unnecessary, he was just using a lot of words to say something simple. Don't sleep with any of them and don't fight them or you'll be punished.

"Have I had myself clear?" A mumble of yes's and many nods came from everyone. Behind me Nico gave a mocking salute;

"Yes Sir."

"Cara, I'd like to talk to you for a minute," dad turned back to me as the boys quickly emptied out of the hallway now the show was over, all shooting furtive glances my way as if I couldn't catch them staring.

"Sure," I placed a hand on my hip and waited for him to speak.

"In private," dad nodded towards my room, with a huff of complaint I obliged and led him to my room. I flopped down on my bed as he shut the door behind us and mentally prepared myself for his wrath. "How are you Cara?"

I stared at him. What? I blinked a couple of times in surprise. Did he seriously just ask me how I was?

"Fine," the word came out automatically like a programmed response.

"I'm sorry we didn't get off on the right foot yesterday," that was the understatement of the century, "I want you to know that I'm sorry I haven't been a good dad to you all these years and I do want to make it up to you."

I considered him unsure of him I was meant to respond so I went with a dumb, "thanks."

"Do you like it here?" Dad asked, he seemed genuinely interested.

"I guess," I shrugged, I didn't trust his sudden niceness.

"I saw you've made friends with Mitch Donovan's gang?"

"Yes."

"I just want you to be careful," dad spike cautiously like he was piling each word very carefully, "those boys aren't the best influences."

Of course, I should've realised, he didn't actually care about how I was doing. He just wanted to tell me who I could be friends with.

"Are you shitting me?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Language," dad cautioned.

"You're not seriously trying to tell me who I can and can't be friends with are you?" I demanded leaping up from my bed as red coated my vision, "I'm here for one day and you already want to control my life, how many times do I have to tell you, you can't start being my dad out of nowhere."

"I am your dad though Cara. "

"Doesn't mean I have to listen to what you say," I knew I sounded like a pathetic child.

"I really want to make this work, I want to be a good dad to you," dads voice was gentle and reassuring but I wasn't buying any of it. His kindness only enraged me even more.

"You stopped being a good dad the second you left us, when you didn't send me any birthday or Christmas cards, when you never came back," I screamed at him unable to stop myself once I'd started, "name one thing you know about me, go on," I demanded furiously, "what's my favourite colour, how many schools have I been to, who was my first boyfriend? You have no clue and that's why you're not my dad."

I marched straight across the room and yanked my bedroom door open,

"Cara please," dads voice was still irritatingly calm.

"Just get out dad," I snapped nodded my head out my bedroom.

For a moment it looked like he was going to fight back and I wanted to, I wanted to scream and scream at him about how angry I was. About how every birthday when I was little I'd say by the phone waiting for him to call, every Christmas I'd check all the presents to see if one of them was from him. I wanted him to know how much he'd hurt me.

But he didn't argue, he just let out a long defeated sigh and left. He didn't even put up a fight. I slammed the door after him but I still wasn't satisfied.

I felt so full of bottled up rage that I had to take a shower and scrub all the anger off me and let the warm water soothe me. Then I went from furious to crying. I couldn't help it, I just started to weep. And once I started I just couldn't stop.

I curled up on the shower floor with my back pressed against the cold tiles clutching my knees as I sobbed. I cried for the little girl who'd been abandoned by her dad, the girl who'd had to learn how to grow up fast in the world of casinos and gambling, and then I cried for the same girl who'd lost the only person in the world that meant anything to her.

I wrapped my arms around myself in a futile attempt to hold myself together. I only fell apart into my hands, each little piece of me falling out in tear droplets.

Why did it have to hurt so much? It was unbearable.

I couldn't be weak though, so as a turned of the shower I switched off the pain. My tears stopped along with the jets of water, my time to be in pain was over.

Emotionless I put my pyjamas on and brushed out my long dripping wet hair into thick clumps soaking through my t-shirt. It was my only way of coping was to completely shut off my feelings.

A knock came at my door startling me as I was just about to get into bed. I rolled my eyes instinctively expecting it to be my dad who'd now found something else to have a go at me for. I yanked open the door already assigning myself to being berated for the next ten minutes.

But it wasn't dad at the door, it was someone distinctly more handsome. Someone with mussed black hair and gorgeous, mysterious, grey eyes.

"Oh, hi," I stumbled surprised, "I wasn't expected you."

"I can see," Grey coughed uncomfortably his eyes darting down to my body. I was only wearing huge baggy Elvis tour t-shirt of mum's that hung down to my knees and small black shorts underneath.

"I was going to head to bed," I folded my arms over my chest protectively and shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry, I can go if you want," Grey ran his hand through his hair awkwardly, "I just wanted to apologise again for yesterday. I still feel awful about the whole thing."

"It's fine," I shrugged even though I knew in my mind it wasn't.

"It's not," Grey shook his head furiously, "there's no excuse. I just wanted to talk to you and explain myself."

"Sure," I leant against the door and raised my eyebrows expectantly waiting for him to speak.

"Can I show you something?" Grey liked slightly embarrassed and I had to admit I enjoyed seeing someone usually so cocky and arrogant actually look vulnerable.

"Um, okay?" I was interested in what he had to say, so I grabbed an oversized red zip up hoodie and shrugged it on as I followed Grey down the seniors corridor.

I assumed he was going to head down the stairs but instead he stopped just at the top of the stairs causing me to crash straight into him.

"Sorry," I flushed embarrassed, it seemed that in my barely two days here I'd turned into a complete klutz.

"This way," Grey pushed open the sky light above the stairs choosing to ignore our collision.

"What?" I demanded, "I am not climbing up on a roof."

"It's fine I've done it a million times," Grey stepped up on the bannister above the stairs and pulled himself through the small gap in the roof. He turned back around to face me with a smirk on his face, "are you coming scaredy-cat?" He stuck his hand down towards me.

I regarded his hand with caution, was I ready to give the aggressive, cruel boy I'd met yesterday another chance? I was here wasn't I, standing in my pyjamas trusting him to take me somewhere.

So I reached up and took his hand. Here we go.