So, I'm still writing. I could feed you guys a totally lame excuse right now, but I'll save that for after the chapter.

People who read Amantes sunt amentes might recognize a couple of characters at the end of this chapter. I don't know if I'll pick Asa up again (though I would like to), so I think I'm going to cross the two stories over just a little bit. Any Asa characters appearing in The Fallen will be definitely altered, though, so don't expect carbon copies or anything.

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The Fallen

I stared down at my hands, which were folded in my lap. They were shaking, but that was just because I can't sit still, and so I kept bouncing my right leg. I picked a little at the chipped black polish on my nails then stopped and huffed. Couldn't they just get it over with already? It's not like the routine is new.

A disappointed sigh. "Nero..."

There we go. I raised my eyes up a bit to look at her but didn't say anything. In the long run, it was best to just sit here and nod. The last time I'd tried to defend myself, my detention had been worse. Best to just space out a little until everything was over and done with.

"We've been over this time and time again, Nero." She rose from her chair, and so I picked my head up to keep my eyes on her. She walked over to the window and stood there, not moving. Now that she wasn't looking me in the eyes, I could focus on something other than her face. I stared at her hands, which were clasped behind her back, and decided that the shade of red on her nails didn't go with her complexion or even match her suit. Telling her that probably wouldn't be in my best interests right now, though. She turned to face me, and so I looked back up at her face, waiting again.

"We've called your parents, Nero," she started. Why did she keep saying my name? We were the only two people in her office, so who else would she be talking to? "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Damn. Now I didn't have a choice.

"Not really, Ms. Rouse," I mumbled, lowering my eyes. Just tell me to go clean it up already.

She stood there for a bit longer, looking at me. I wasn't going to say anything or even budge until she spoke again. I tried not to fidget, but sitting still that long was hard. I kept tapping my thumb against my thigh, hoping that she'd give in soon.

She sighed and turned to her desk. She picked up the pink pad of detention slips, filled one out, tore it off, and then handed it out to me. "Just go, Nero. You know where the cleaning supplies are."

I stood up slowly and reached out to take the slip from her. "Thank you, Ms. Rouse," I said quietly. Then she surprised me by smiling. It was a small smile, but a smile just the same.

"Just do it on paper next time, won't you?"

I couldn't resist grinning back at her. "Maybe," I answered, and then hurried out of the office before she could say anything else.

I headed straight for the janitors' closet, listening to the dull thud my Doc Martens made against the tile floor. This was a walk I made weekly, so nothing was new to me. I crammed my hands in my pockets and looked at the floor. I guess this was proof that Graham was right—the assistant principal really did have a soft spot for me. Any other student would have been suspended by now, but here I was with like my billionth detention slip. I'd kept up with most of them. I was planning to use them to paper my bedroom wall.

I'd gotten to the janitors' closet, so I pulled a hand out of my pocket, grabbed the door handle, and pulled. The smell of industrial cleaner flooded out into the hall, but I was ready for it. I flipped the light switch and walked over to the surface cleaners. My favorite bottle (I knew it was mine—my initials were on the bottom) was there, so I grabbed it, along with a brush and sponge. I turned the light off again on my way out and headed to the B wing boys' bathroom. Specifically, the third stall, the one without the door.

I stood there, admiring my work for a minute. This one was a massive octopus wearing a gas mask. My Sharpie had started to run out of ink, so the mask wasn't as colored in as I'd wanted it to be, though I'd managed to get it to hold out long enough to sign "Nero Rhome" in the lower left corner. So what? I was proud of my work, so of course I was going to sign it. It had taken all of lunch and geometry to finish it, and now I was about to scrub it off. I'd snapped a picture of it with my phone when I first finished it, so it wasn't a total loss. So with a sigh, I sprayed the octopus with the surface cleaner and got to work.

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My hands were red and raw, and my shoulders were killing me by the time I'd finished. Even now, it wasn't completely gone, but hopefully it would be good enough. If it wasn't, I would have to just repaint over it, and the paint cost would come out of my pocket.

I stretched stiffly and shuffled over to the sinks to wash the cleaner off my hands. I stared at myself in the dirty mirror. Damn, I looked tired. I was pale anyway, but the lights in the bathroom made me look so washed out that I looked severely anemic. I shut off the water and shook my hands a little, then leaned closer to the mirror. I curled my lower lip under and looked at the clear retainers for my snakebite. There was a petition going around to let us wear body jewelry on school property. I was really hoping it passed. I liked my snakebite, but the retainers just looked stupid.

I ran a wet hand through my pale hair before stepping away from the mirror and heading to the paper towel dispenser. Empty. Figures.

I dried my hands as best as I could with the crappy toilet paper in the stalls, then grabbed my cleaning supplies and headed back to the janitors' closet. It was kind of late now, and I'd probably missed the bus by an hour. I'd need to call Graham to come give me a ride home.

I was walking past the Calculus teacher, Mr. Cole's, room, humming quietly to myself. I let my eyes drift to the narrow window on the closed door. I could see someone blonde in there. I recognized him as the chemistry teacher, Mr. Eckener. I'd never had him, but his class was supposed to be a lot of fun. The two of them were together a lot. Some of Mr. Eckener's students said that they had been roomies in college, but Mr. Cole had never mentioned it, so I didn't know if it was true or not.

I looked in for a minute and was about to start walking again when something occurred to me.

Eckener was leaning kind of close to Mr. Cole. Kind of...very close.

Well, that's interesting.

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Kind of short, but I'm trying to get back into the rhythm of things. Let me know what you thought.

We'll get back to the characters in the first chapter in the next chapter, probably. I wanted to play around with point of view in this one, so expect narrators to change regularly.