A/N This is what happens when you wake me up too early during my whole 8 days of vacation before work starts and feed me coca cola and ice cream. I'm not sure how this will turn out, but I don't feel like updating another story but I feel like writing. So why not start a whole new one?

It wouldn't be the first time my parents flew off the handle about something stupid that I didn't even do. So I sat on the faded, over-stuffed, immaculate white leather chair while my mother, dressed in white with her blonde hair piled on her head in an up-do screamed herself hoarse at me about drinking and driving.

I had been home the night before. I wasn't out partying, drinking, and doing other things that normal teenage girls do. I was doing my final assignment for Sensei Maekawa's Japanese class. My brother, he was out partying. Well, he's not actually my brother. He's my step-brother. My step-father died two years after he married my family and his son, Dorian, has just stuck with us.

Dorian came home around two o' clock in the morning, escorted by police and nursing a bloodied face and swollen mouth. He had trashed his car going eighty miles an hour down a four lane highway and hit a tree. My mother was livid. She slapped him, shouted at him, threw things, and called him every awful name in the book. Then when I got home from school the next day, I got a lecture about how stupid he was and how I was never to do anything like that. I, of course, in a final effort to defend myself told mother dearest I would never do something like that. It was the wrong thing to say. She had a hissy fit. Screaming and shouting about what a horrible, wicked, child I was. About how God was going to punish me for back talking my mother. Then she calmed down and sent me off to school with a, "I hope you think about your sins today."

Harrison Senior High School loomed in front of my black Accord like a death chamber for an innocent person on death row. I parked the car and climbed out, scanning the parking lot for my brother and his pot-head friends. Dorian was never into drugs, drinking yes, but only his friends did the drugs. Dorian was smart. He wanted to go to school. My mother said he would never get there going the way he did and that he was going to rot in hell for it. I agreed that he probably wouldn't get into school, but didn't people in the bible drink sometimes too?

I found him leaning against the side of the school with Miguel, Lonzo, and Christian. Lonzo had a cigerette dangling between his lips and Miguel's eyes were bloodshot and glassy from drug use. "Hey Dorian," I said, tilting his face up and examining the damage. His green eyes stared back at me with something between anger and gratitude visible in them. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head and ran a hand through black hair before sitting down against the wall. "I hate your mother," he mumbled, slurring his words from exhaustion. I imagined he hadn't slept at all the night before and that was the reason he was incessently rubbing his eyes.

Miguel giggled much like a little kid would and then jumped up and down in a circle until Lonzo kicked his feet out from under him. Dorian rolled his eyes. "They aren't that bad when they're sober, Ariella. Really."

I gave him a look and then turned to walk inside, but he caught my hand. "What?" I asked, annoyed. I hadn't liked Miguel and Lonzo since they were twelve and still hadn't started drugs. They had cut my hair when I was sleeping once and instead of having the long, blonde, curls, I had chin length kinks.

"I'm not coming home after school so you may want to stay somewhere else so The Mother can't whine at you."

I nodded shortly. Dorian and I had a special relationship. When he left, my mother badgered me instead of him. So I left. I didn't complain to him that he should come home and take it. I just left and let him have his time alone. He did the same for me.

I pulled away again and went inside, determined to get through the day and possibly go home with Talos and if not him, then I would have to spend the afternoon with Dorian, Miguel, and Lonzo. I didn't look forward to that.

The day went by without much excitement and of course, Talos hadn't come to school. I was angry and apparently showing it because people were keeping a distance. All except one. Carey Harlow had tormented me since fifth grade and now into my junior year of highschool, he continued. It was well known that Carey had a crush on me. He always had. Now it was worse. He had become uncontrollable and had labeled me as his, telling every other male in the school to stay away from me.

Today was a bad day for Carey to make his advances. He walked up behind me while I was digging in my backpack for the history paper I had to work on that night and slid an arm around my waist. I growled. "Carey, get off me!" I turned around, only to find myself stuck between my locker, and Carey's six foot two inch long football quarterback body. Not a good place for me.

"Come on, Ariella. I'm free Saturday. Meet up with me? I'll take you to a movie and we can fool around," he cooed, taking a strand of long blonde hair in his hand and brushing the side of my face with his palm.

"No. Get off." I attempted pushing him away but failed miserably. He pulled me against him and I slapped him. People began looking at us, but no one tempted Carey.

"Ariella, you know you want it. You always have. You just refuse to take hold of it." He grabbed my wrists and planted a kiss on my mouth that I turned away from, letting out a disgusted groan.

Someone jerked him backward and threw him against a locker. "Keep your filthy hands off my sister, Harlow!" Dorian had come to my rescue. I stood up straight and watched as Carey put his hands up. "Hey don't jump down my throat, Whellen. I'm just having fun."

"Well have it with someone else. Ariella will do what she wants. She obviously doesn't want a scum bag like you." Dorian stepped back, allowing Carey to walk away. I had never seen Carey back down, but I guessed it was because Dorian was a senior. He held power over Carey Harlow, even if it wasn't much.

Dorian grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I didn't think Carey would let you stop him like that," I mumbled, examining the bruise on my wrist. Mother would have a field day with that.

"Next time I won't just pull him off," he growled, pushing me out the door. "You have a car? I don't trust Lonzo and Miguel's driving."


"Good, you'll be the taxi driver. Get in."