Hartley was stalking me.

His presence was a new form of torture; untested, never recorded in any history books or thriller novels; the product of an ingenious mind. Only a vessel of true evil could have formed such a devious plan.

"So, I just have to except the fact that you're here now?" I asked on a woeful sigh. He was trailing after me, wearing a wide, satisfied grin. If he wasn't carrying my books—something I was incapable of in my current crippled state—I would have hit him with my crutches.

"Pretty much," he said, chirpily. Everything about this Jace—possessed, crazy, weird Jace—was bubbly and happy, with an extra spring in his step. Clearly, he was getting off on this weird mind game.

"Pretty much," he said.

"Bummer."

As we walked down the hall, I couldn't help but notice the curious stares our 'togetherness' was garnering. Jace and I had somehow fallen into the popular circles of the social hierarchy. It wasn't something I thought about often, but it was something I'd always acknowledged as a truth. My feud with Hartley was common knowledge amongst the student body. People found it fascinating—obviously because I was hilarious, and since Jace was the worst, people enjoyed watching him suffer against my wrath. So the new development in the Montez/Hartley war was certainly interesting to a large portion of the student body.

"If you really want me to leave, I will," Hartley said. He was considerate of my opinion now? What the hell was going on?

I glared at him. "Since you insisted on carrying my books, you're in this for the long haul now, Hartley."

I didn't know why, exactly, he had insisted on carrying my books. He showed up after my fourth period Psychology class and grabbed my books from my desk. When I'd stared at him, confused, he'd thrust my crutches into my arms. And then, as if this was all a normal occurrence between us, he groaned impatiently, "Hurry up, Elle, or lunch will be over by the time we get there."

It was possibly the strangest thing I'd seen in my short life.

I anticipated my return to school would be accompanied by some excitement; a small, selfish and frivolous part of me was hoping for a big "WELCOME BACK" reception; banner, streamers and all. But this, Hartley laughing and smiling at me—not like I was the butt of his own private joke, but as if we were friends—wasn't close to the excitement I was expecting. I couldn't even tell if I was excited about it.

Another part of me, equally as selfish, longed to prolong our feud. Sue me, but I kind of liked my little rivalry with pretty boy Jace Hartley.

Clearly, as he always did, Hartley had to come along and ruin it.

"You're quiet today," Jace noted.

"Forgive me, Hartley, but I'm processing," I replied. That, and it was slightly embarrassing that I was panting with the exertion of manoeuvring my crutches through the hallways. If I spoke, I would be more out of breath and I would look like an unfit loser. I mentally committed to doing at least one sit up tonight.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Processing what?"

"You do realise you're being weird, right? This is weird. We don't do this. You're being nice to me."

"Well, I'm all about charity," he said. "So while you're still hobbling, prepare for a whole lot more weird. I'm going to carry your books from class to class for weeks. And maybe, if I'm feeling especially charitable, and you're feeling especially lucky, I'll give you a lift home. Carry you all the way from my car to your bedroom."

I think I gagged. I was unaware that Hartley had a drug problem.

Charitable? He was in this astonishingly good mood because he got off on charity? The only response I had to that was, "I cannot make this any clearer, Hartley. If you ever try to pick me up, I will kick you so hard in the nuts; you'll never be able to breed your demon spawn and set them upon the world."

He merely smiled. Not his regular smile, but the secret one reserved for only me. He only wore it sometimes; usually when I said something mean.

It was disarmingly charming, and for a fleeting moment, just the tiniest second, I didn't want to wipe the expression off his face with a violent swing of my crutches. Instead, I longed to say something a little insulting but mostly witty, something that would put that smile on his face again.

I ignored that impulse.

He was being nice to me and it was making me feel strange. That's what this was. Maybe this was his goal. To hide his monstrous self beneath an uncharacteristic good attitude, until I forgot how much I hated him. Then, he would strike. He was like a cobra, lulling his prey into a false sense of security. I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to see beneath his mask of deception, but he just smiled pleasantly.

He followed me all the way to my locker. Cady, who had the locker next to me, looked up in surprise. Her eyes were like wide saucers ping-ponging between me and Jace. "The fu—"

"Don't ask."

"I think I have to," she said. She motioned between us with a flappy hand. "The hell is this?"

"Hartley has been possessed."

"Oh," Cady said. "Okay."

Cadence Gray was somehow the most popular girl in school. I'd never really understood how; not because Cady wasn't amazing, but because she had a general distaste of people in general. Somehow, she managed to draw people in with a single rare pretty smile. They flocked to her. It was bizarre. Perhaps the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous helped.

Cady hated it, which only added to her allure. People found humility endearing; I never thought it was humility, however, because Cady wasn't humble. She just genuinely didn't seem comfortable around people.

She once told me that she only liked four people: Jonah (her soul twin), Chance, Daria and me. It was a heart-warming sentiment—I was a member of the exclusive Cady-Gray's-favourite-people club, and also Jace wasn't.

"So, you're back," said Cady, with as much enthusiasm as I'd ever seen her muster for anything. Which was... not a lot.

"I'm back," I said.

"Does that mean we have to put up with Jace again?"

Jace raised a tentative hand. "You do know that I'm here, right?"

"Uh-huh," Cady said.

Hartley made a small noise of offense and dumped my stack of books into Cady's arms. He was still grinning though. "Well, okay. If you're going to say mean things about me, I'll leave."

I stared at him, bored. "Oh, no," I said, deadpan. "No, Hartley, don't do that. However can we be expected to go on?"

Cady snorted.

"I'm going to go find Daria. You all good to help her to lunch?" Jace asked Cady.

"Uh, sure?" she said.

Jace sauntered off with a cheery whistle. He was one of those people who was always happy—grinning, smirking, laughing; even his frowns were accompanied by a small upward quirk of his lips. I asked Daria about it once, how anyone could possibly be that happy all the time. I thought it might be part of some illusion; deceiving people into liking him, so they would be drawn into his trap. Daria, in typical Daria fashion, replied vaguely. "Jace doesn't see the same world as everyone else. His world revolves completely around other people; as long as he isn't alone, he's always going to be happy."

For a brief moment after Daria had described him like that, I almost thought I might like the version of Jace Hartley that Daria saw.

But then he spoke to me again, and I realised he was awful.

I still believed her idyllic image of Jace though; Daria and Jace were a single unit, one person. The kind of friends from movies, who hung out after school every day and had a key to each other's house. Even though I loved my friends, weird and loud as they were, I'd never had a friend like that.

Cady and I watched in awe as he walked away, instantly swallowed by the crowd.

When he was out of earshot, Cady and I whirled to face each other at the exact same time to exclaim, "What the hell was that?"

"How long has he been like that?" Cady asked, her mouth hanging agape.

"Since I got back. When he saw me, he gave me a hug. I almost vomited, Cades. And then he showed up outside my class to carry my books! It's weird stuff, mate."

"I'll say," Cadence said. "He was grinning. He's been moping for the last couple of months like Bella in New Moon. Barely sat with us; just huddled at some table with Daria, talking about his feelings or something."

I frowned at that. Jace Hartley didn't frown. It was unnatural.

No matter how much I hated him, I didn't want him to stop smiling. It was one of the few things I liked about Jace Hartley. Even if I loathed the sight of his face, I liked him smiling. Call it aesthetic appreciation. Hartley was pretty, but most of that didn't come from natural beauty; his constant grin simply made him better looking.

It's psychology.

"He missed you," Cady said.

I thought about it for a moment. Missed me. I hadn't seen him for months. I hadn't teased him, pranked him, insulted him. Surely my accident was a welcome reprieve from all things Lena Montez for him?

Or maybe, like me, he secretly liked our little feud.