take these to the dry cleaners in the village?" Autumn asked her greying butler with quite the nose on him, but didn't leave room for argument.

"Please," I said, which made his eyebrows flicker ever so slightly upwards. With a slightly fumbled turn, he was out of the door and racing off in a hastened walk to, I assume, the village— my shirt in hand.

Autumn had leant me one of her pyjama tops to wear as a substitute. Unlike my oversized, very old shirt— which I'm pretty sure I got as a freeby from some newspaper— hers was silk. Not having come across much silk in my eighteen years of life, I didn't really have a preference for it, let alone knew what was the good stuff and what wasn't. Even so, by just how comfortable it was, I knew it must be expensive, very expensive.

"What really happened, Jolie?" She asked the question I knew she'd been wanting to for the past half an hour.

"It was nothing," I lied.

"Yes, okay, and I'm a fraudster."

I stared at her, trying to suss whether she was lying, too. I mean, it wasn't so far-fetched for a wealthy business person to be on the wrong side of the law. And if my sources (aka Miles) were correct, both Autumn and her brother were involved in business, successful businesses.

"I'm not a fraudster," she verified, having watched me in thought for the past few seconds, an incredulous look on her face. "Just tell me what happened."

"Some girl spillt her drink on me," I relented. And having seen her expression, added, "It was nothing."

"On purpose?"

"Yes." I couldn't exactly lie to her again, her having let me borrow clothes... and after seeing through my lie before.

"You know I can have a word," she offered. "Pull some strings."

"I can handle it," I said, sternly. "Sorry, I'm stressed at the moment. Just a bit touchy-" a bit? "Honestly, I'm fine."

"You know if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here." I let her place a reassuring hand over mine, and nodded in appreciation.

The door opened suddenly and the dragon girl appeared. I'd settled on that name, having seen how her fiery hair was well-suited to her fiery character.

"Honestly Autumn," she chastised. "It's like you want a disease, what taking in the homeless and all." I hadn't noticed it before, but slightly, ever so slightly, a german accent coated her words.

Autumn rose. "There's no need to be so—"

"It's fine," I said, rising myself. "I was just leaving, anyway."

I ignored Michelle's grimace; I ignored the rise of her perfectly arched eyebrow; and I ignored the way she turned her head away as I passed.

I bid farewell to Autumn just in time, before the door was promptly slammed in my face.

***

"Mum, everything's great. The people," save for everyone other than Autumn and Miles. "are great, very... accommodating."

"Oh, good," she said, voice slightly breathy, as though she was exerted from just this conversation. "I was worried when you didn't call or anything, but I suppose you had a lot to do."

I pushed aside the guilt clawing at my throat and the tears welling in my eyes. God, I thought to myself. Don't be so stupid. "Yes, very busy. Has Ms Harris come round yet?"

"Yeah, she's been and gone, got me a scratch card, which I went and won a fiver on. That was fun. I reckon it's beginner's luck, though."

"I'm glad, Mum," I said, wary for my next question. "How are you feeling?"

"I told you before, it was just a cold. Anyway—" she always did this, changing the subject. I felt irritation rising. Just tell me. Just fucking tell me. Stop keeping me in the dark. "He came round for you again."

I released my excruciatingly tight hold on my pillow. "Who?"

"Jack. He came at about two. I didn't have to lie about you being out this time."

I gulped, remembering how I'd hide in my room and listen as he knocked on the door, day after day.

Jack was the boy, who'd got me with his smile and sweet words. He was the ex. The one I refrained from talking about.

I still remember the day my seemingly perfect relationship fell apart. I really should have seen it sooner. He didn't even know about Mum until he knocked on the door that first time after our split, so it could never have been that serious.

"What did he say?"

"Same as usual, same as usual."

I gulped.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't have gone round when he said he was 'sick'. But, equally, he shouldn't have had my then best friend riding him like a donkey.

"How are you... financially?" I asked, changing the subject just as she had done. I really was my mother's daughter.

"Fine, fine." So, terrible.

You don't need to protect me. "I'll find a job tomorrow," I promised.

I wish she'd just tell me what was going on, tell me how I could help. I knew she didn't want to burden me with her struggles, but at least then I could have a bit of warning, before I find out through a neighbour who'd seen her at the clinic. Or have a bay lift come knocking.

***

School started today, so finding a job wasn't going to be particularly easy to slip in. It was 8.02, and my first lesson wasn't until 11.20, so I guess I could try. Though Mum hadn't explicitly said, or even hinted, I knew she was struggling with the bills at the moment and I needed to find a job. As soon as possible, ideally.

I'd walked out of the back of the school, not bothering knocking on Miles's door. I could practically hear him snoring through it, and doubted he'd appreciate a wake up call.

The track to the small village was just that, a track. It was just a make-do path, cut bluntly through the trees. I didn't really mind my shoes getting a little muddy along the way. It was nice, though not ideal, to be outside for once. You know, being one with nature and all that.

"Sorry, love," the third person I asked responded. "Strict instructions that no Attwood student can work here." He gestured around him to the little corner shop.

"Alright," I muttered. "Thanks anyway."

I showed myself out, cringing at the bell at the door.

The next stop, a few paces away, was a small café.

Everything was tightly packed and not the largest, but I supposed it was quite homely for those that lived above the scattered stores or alongside them.

It was quite quaint in the family run café, I liked it, beside the loud chewer behind the counter. She slapped her lips together every few seconds, and it took all the strength in me not to say something or at least grimace.

"Do you have any jobs going?" I asked.

"Nah," she said. "You tried the gaff down the road?" I told her I had. "I dunno then. That school's pretty strict. Some kid got almost kicked out from havin a job."

I realised, then, that it wasn't worth it. If I couldn't get my degree, I wouldn't be able to provide at all for Mum, instead of for a few weeks... until I figured something out.

As I pushed the door to the shop, I was momentarily blinded by the sun and so, because I'm a complete clutz, pushed the door into someone.

They must have just come at of the shop because I felt hot liquid splash down my front. I groaned at having yet another piece of clothing ruined.

"You again?" He growled, face pulled into one of disgust. "You have eyes, use them."

I stared up at Archer, one eye closed to see him in the sun.

"Excuse me?"

"I said," he drawled. "You have eyes, use them. That is generally what eyes are for. Or are you clumsy and stupid?"

I gasped at him. He scoffed.

My nostrils flared, anger coursing through my veins.

"Well, it looks like you need a new shirt."

We were close, almost nose to nose.

His blue eyes shon, ferociously. "And why would I need that?"

The logical side of my brain was desperately wrestling for control over my impulsive side. But, alas, it lost.

Without thinking much of the consequences, I knocked the cup in his hand so that this time, it splashed down his front.

He leapt back. We both gazed at the growing ugly, brown stain, both in shock at what I'd just done.

He returned to glaring at me. Oh, how he loved glaring at me.

"Still wondering why? Or are you covered in coffee and stupid?"

I walked away, feeling his gaze burning into my back all the way, as I tried not to trip over my own feet, around the corner. Once free of his scorn, I leant against the wall, holding my chest as I tried to regain a steady rhythm to my breathing.

What have I just done?