"Come on," Caine said, taking Sammy's hand. Sammy looked down at the time on his phone, worrying that his parents would be expecting him home. "It's late, I have to ring my Mum," Sammy explained. After a couple of rings she answered, sounding like she was speaking from the bottom of the ocean. Despite telling her off numerous times, she never put the phone close enough to her mouth. Someone had told her about phones causing cancer and since then she was wary. Sammy figured one day he would return from school to see her holed up behind the couch in a makeshift fort and tin-foil hat. It was only a matter of time. "Is it okay if I go over to a friend’s house?" he asked her. "A friend?" his Mum asked, sounding so deeply shocked it was borderline insulting. "Of course, of course, darling," she gushed. "Stay out as late as you like." He s

"I think Miss Day has a thing for you," Jess told Kiaan. She was still in shock over the fact Kiaan had answered a question in class for the first time, let alone the reaction it got. Miss Day seemed to hate the students. Why she had become a teacher was a mystery to Jess, who figured the woman would be better suited to just about any other job. She was one of those 'cool' adults who had tattoo's, piercings, biker boots and a permanent derisive scowl. "I think she's just a leftie," Kiaan smiled. "Those guys do hate a racist." "Your right, she's taken a pop at Grace in the past. Not that many people got the reference," Damien confirmed. Jess wasn't sure what he was referring to but trusted his word. He was probably the smartest kid in their class. "Here," Caine said, taking Kiaan's phone from his hands before he could mount a protest. Kiaan flashed an uncomfortable smile as Caine took a picture. "We n

Damien’s room had become the official meeting place for the 'Hexers' as they were now calling themselves. It felt good to have a name for the group that didn't focus on their victim status. "I still think we should have gone with the Punishers," Kiaan—the comic book fan of the group—commented. Jess laughed. "Na, then I'd have to walk around in kinky boots and leather with a whip or something weird." Damien whistled. "I'd pay to see that." Jess laughed and blushed. She kind of liked being the only female member of the group. It made her feel special, even though Sammy was gay, and Caine was... well, he didn't seem entirely straight either. Jess desperately wanted to know if he was into girls at all but couldn't think of a smooth way to transition the question into casual conversation. It would be rude to blurt out the question, regardless of her intentions. As Je

Never before had Jess felt out of place in her own home. Ricky's presence was cloying and dominating, tainting the safety of her sacred personal space. This was all she had; her family and home comforts. As bad as things got as school, she always felt a sense of relief on returning to her house. "So?" Ricky shrugged. "Do you wanna do this here?" Jess shook her head in the negative. She backed away instinctively as he rose from the chair and stepped toward her, smirking at her reaction as he handed her the empty beer bottle. It made a hollow ding as she dropped it into the recycling pile behind the bin. Staring down at the empty boxes and cartons, Jess felt herself relaxing. The chaos of the outside world melted away, leaving nothing but the blank quiet of her mind. She let Ricky grab her wrist, lead her through her front door and out into the street, faintly

Belle re-applied her make-up using the works bathroom mirror. She kept her eyes low until it was time to apply the kohl liner and she was forced to look herself in the eye. Memories of that boy flooded her brain. Every time she looked at her face, she saw his, crumbling as she issued her crushing rejection. Each time she tried to think about something else, anything else, but his face would always appear. His sad blue eyes, messy dyed-black hair, and stereotypical snake-bite piercings. When he'd asked her out, her response had been laughter followed a verbal bashing. She'd been trying to make her workmates laugh. And they had. Vigorously. 'I need to apologise,' she realised. She'd been meaning to, but the boy hadn't returned since and she had no way to contact him. She didn't even have as much as a first name. Giving her lips a last coating of burgun