"So," Mina announced animatedly as she plonked herself in her designated seat beside mine, she was ten minutes late for art and her dramatic introduction was clearly intended to distract from her flushed cheeks and ruffled hair, "what are your thanksgiving plans?"

I slowly raised an eyebrow as I gave her my you're-convincing-no-one stare, "please tell me your not ten minutes late because you were making out with Conor in a cupboard somewhere?"

"Not in a cupboard," Mina objected her cheeks darkening ten shades to Bright Red.

"Whatever," I dismissed as I shook my head, "you are a poor student and I'm disappointed in you, taking time from school to make out with a boy."

"Like you've never done that," Mina turned to her sketch book in an effort to switch the attention from her.

"This isn't about me," I corrected, I had missed school because of a boy but mostly that was due to the bruises on my face that no amount of foundation could hide, "this is about you making out at school." My mouth twisted at the thought of it.

"It's hot," Mina shrugged, "the thrill of it, like you could be caught but you do it anyway."

"Seriously?" I raised my eyebrows disbelievingly.

"Uh huh," Mina nodded with a pencil between her teeth, she took it out between two fingers as if it were a cigarette, "I forgot you live at a school so you're used to making out there."

"Not true," I laughed, "does this mean you and Connor are fine then?"

Like I'd suggested Mina had spoken to Connor and as I'd thought he had no recollection of the way he'd treated Mina and once he'd found out had been devastated. He'd spent hours apologising to her, had taken her out for dinner and had brought flowers to school for her which he stuck to her locker every morning. Mina had joked that they should argue more often, but she had made it clear that he was never allowed to act like that towards her again.

"We're amazing," Mina swooned a loved up smile on her lips.

"You're sickening," I told her seriously.

"You're jealous," Mina responded with a sly smile.

"I'm living my best single life," I responded easily while brushing my paintbrush in long illustrious strokes across my page. I was working on a detailed watercolour of King's Bridge and was currently tackling the grass and sky.

Mina gave me a skeptical look, "sure, with all those gorgeous boys around you."

"Their faces are nice to look at," I allowed with a small laugh.

"Mmm hmm," Mina nodded her eyes drifting dreamily.

"Oi," I poked her with the end of my paintbrush, "you have a boyfriend."

Mina stuck out her tongue, "doesn't mean I can't admire."

My time for admiring was limited, Nico had already left and the rest of the boys, bar Mitch, would be leaving tonight with Mitch going tomorrow morning. Then I had a three day weekend in which I would be alone in King's Bridge which would become a ghost house without all the boys in it.

When I got back to the house I found Sawyer stood by the entrance to the dormitories glancing at his watch.

"Sawyer!" His head turned upwards sharply at my call and instantly brightened into a huge smile.

"I have to go soon," he explained, "I was hoping to catch you before I left."

"You're going already?" I couldn't stop a pout springing to my lips.

"It's only for three days," Sawyer stepped closer so our faces were only inches apart, unexpectedly he leaned his head down until his forehead rested on mine and he could stare into my eyes as I plunged into his, he admitted, "I'm going to miss you too."

I bit on my lip to hide my smile, "I'll see you on Monday, right?"

"Uh huh," Sawyer seemed distracted as he spoke, his eyes fixed on my face, "see you on Monday."

For a second my stomach flipped as I got the strongest feeling that he was going to kiss me but then he pulled away suddenly, grabbed his suitcase and walked away. As if he had to restrain himself and getting away from me as quickly as possible was the only way to do it. I watched him walk away, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I wanted to know what would have happened if he had kissed me. Would I have kissed him back? It was too late to know now.

Grey left less that an hour later, he said his goodbyes to Mitch and then pulled me aside so I was leaning against the cab he'd ordered with him trapping me against the smooth side of the car.

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone Vegas," he instructed.

"Same applies to you," I insisted, I could still see the bruises he'd come back with last time he'd gone away in my mind.

"You know me," Grey shrugged with a casual lopsided grin, "smart is my middle name."

"I'm serious Grey," I eyed him, "look after yourself."

I knew he was trying to be lighthearted, using jokes to distract me from what we all knew was waiting for him at home.

"I'll be fine," Grey shook his head, "you worry too much."

I could never worry enough about him. But I knew there was nothing I could say to make him see differently. He'd go to his dying breath pretending that everything was fine; I shook my head internally, I couldn't even think of his dying breath.

"Enjoy giving thanks," was all I could think of to say.

Grey leaned down and tucked my hair behind my ear which was when I became very aware of how close he was and that Mitch was probably still watching us from the doorway. Grey, however, seemed to be loving it as he whispered into my ear in a low voice that made my stomach drop onto the gravel, "don't worry, you're at the top of my thankful list."

With that he pulled away, his cheek brushing past mine as he did so, saying nothing more he clambered into the cab with a devilish smirk on his face the entire time, leaving me breathless and dazed.

"What did he say?" Mitch asked when I rejoined him at the entrance to the dorm building.

"Nothing," I stared at the ground unable to meet Mitch's eyes as I reached up and touched my ear where I could still feel the ghost of his warm breath.

***

I recognised the room, I just couldn't place where I knew it from. As if the off white walls and white ceiling with damp stains had always been inside me, a part of me that existed in my subconscious but now had emerged. I couldn't shake the feeling, I knew this room.

"Cara," it was Mitch who emerged from the bathroom, he had a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair was stuck up all over the place still damp from the shower. I stared at him dazed, I didn't remember him being there. He didn't fit with my memory of the room. His brow furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"

"I ... I," I stared around me unsure, "I don't know."

When I looked back it wasn't Mitch stood there anymore, it was Nico, a smirk teasing up his cheeks to create dimples that begged to be touched.

"It's okay," his voice was seductive, alluring, "I'm here."

"I don't understand," I shook my head and buried the base of my palms into my eye sockets, my head was throbbing. The nagging sensation that I'd been in this room before continued making my head ache.

"Cara," hands had taken hold of my upper arms, tightly but not too tight. I took my hands away from my eyes and saw Sawyers magnificent face before me. It was lined with a seriousness that aged him, his eyes were full of a fear that terrified me. With a voice half panicked, half urgent he instructed, "hide now, get behind the curtains."

He was pushing me behind the curtains, then yanking the long red fabric to cover me obscuring both him and the room from view. I buried my head in my arms, my headache was worsening. A hammer was pounding against my skull, causing brilliant white spots to appear behind my eyes. All I could do was wish for it to ebb away.

That was when I heard the gun shot, it exploded through the air ricocheting inside my own head. My headache vanished, for a split second I felt the relief of losing it before panic immersed my system. I tore the curtains back, suddenly I knew where I'd seen the room before, I knew the tacky wallpaper and cheap curtains and stale smell. I knew what I'd find in the floor, as much a part of the room as the carpet, a blood stain. But it wasn't my mothers body lying the the steadily growing pool of opaque red blood. It was Grey's. His eyes were still open, his stormy grey pupils unseeing.

That's when I began to scream.

"Cara! Cara!" strong arms were shaking me, wrenching me out of the room, taking away the sight of Grey's lifeless body. Instead it was replaced by Mitch's face above mine, his muscular arms gripping me tightly to keep me there with him, not where I'd been before. Worry mixed with fear crawled across his eyes, was he scared of me? "You're okay. I've got you," he reassured in a soothing voice.

"What happened?" I was confused, my brain seemed to be operating in slow motion.

"You were having a night mare," Mitch released me and sat up, his expression serious, "you were screaming."

"I'm sorry I woke you up," I felt tiny, as if someone had shrunk me to the size of a toddler. Insignificant.

"Don't apologise," Mitch reached out and stroked my hair out of my face, I had a memory of my mom doing the exact same gesture. Calmness swathed over me.

"I'm okay now," I told him, my body felt exhausted, my eyelids barely able to hold themselves open.

"I'll stay," Mitch reached out and pulled the blankets backwards before tucking himself in beside me, I was too tired to object and found myself like a moth drawn to his warmth, "in case you have another one."

Mitch was bare chested so when I pressed my back against him I could feel the warmth radiating from him. He wrapped both arms around me cocooning me in a protective shield. I felt inexplicably safe. My eyelids slid shut almost instantly as I felt Mitch's breath rise and fall in tandem with mine, lulling me into a peaceful sleep.