I jump at the knock, as I pull on my dark peach longline tee, ending just above my knees. My black tights and black Converse feel odd against my skin, as if dressing like I normally did before everything happened is betraying their memories.
“It’s me, Fiona. I was just wondering if you’d like some breakfast.”
“I don’t need a babysitter” I yell curtly.
Silence.
“Shit” I mutter, going to the door and opening it, Fiona uncomfortably stands in the hallway, shuffling on the spot. Her long blonde hair is loose, her purple long sleeve top and high waisted jean shorts making her seem slighter than I remember. “Sorry, I’m just tired. You were ordered to spend time with me, right?”
“Yes, but I did want to talk to you anyway,” Fiona replies honestly.
“Why?” I can’t think of any reason why she’d actually want to talk to me.
Fiona scratches her cheek as she looks down, “well, we don’t get many visitors, or any for that matter. It’s a rule. I thought it’s nice to have another girl around and we could hang out” she blurts out, her cheeks warming in colour.
“You honestly just want to hang out with me? No hidden motive or curiosity?”
Fiona nods, “but if you don’t want to I understand. Jason’s in his room so I can grab him.”
“No” I cry, grabbing her wrist. She stops. “I mean, let him rest, he’s probably tired. What do you want to do?”
Fiona seems nice but I'm not going to tell her that I'm too embarrassed at the moment to see Jason. I try to keep my face stoic as hurt nudges its way into my feelings. Is he sick of me? Did he pawn me off to Fiona because he was over my moods? Was last night the last straw?

“Let’s get a coffee first” Fiona suggests, bringing me back to the current situation.
“Sounds good” I reply, shutting my bedroom door behind me. 

Fiona’s idea of hanging out is watching TV and talking, her timid but polite temperament easing me into comfort.
She does most of the talking, casual and nothing to do with my current predicament. I’m grateful for that, Fiona letting me have a small sense of normality. As much as she tries she can’t refute the fact that if i try to leave people will stop me, with force if necessary. 

Jason comes out of his room once the sun has already set. He places his hand on my shoulder slowly and lightly, as not to scare me.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine, thanks” I mumble back, bringing my overly large black jacket closer around myself.
“Good. Hey Fi, good job getting Val out of her room.” His smile is bright when I turn to look up at him.
“I convinced her with snacks” Fiona replies, waving a half-eaten pods bag in front of him.
“Smart” Jason nods before heading over to the kitchen.
I give Fiona a reassuring tap on the knee as I get up and walk over to the kitchen, walking around the bench so I'm on the inside leaning on it.
Jason chucks a few slices of pizza in the microwave.
“Pineapple? Never thought of you as an anarchist” I joke, trying to defuse my own nerves.
“Your taste is just primitive” he jokes back, setting the timer on the microwave.
“Umm, I’m sorry you had to deal with me all the time” I say quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean all the nightmares and mood swings. You didn’t sign up to babysit an emotionally unstable stranger.”
“Where’s this coming from?” he asks, leaning on the opposite bench so we are parallel. He crosses his large arms.
“I just figured you were over babysitting me so got Fiona to step up to the plate.”
“That wasn’t me, that order came from Leah.”
Of course it’s Leah. She doesn’t like me getting close to her runner up.
“So you don’t have to stick by my side anymore? Must be good to feel free, right?”
I don’t want to have a pity party but I can't help it.
“You really think I spent all that time with you because I was ordered too?” Jason’s voice slightly cracks, his brows turned downwards.
“Didn’t you?”
“I could’ve left you to suffer by yourself at night. I didn’t need to come check on you. I didn’t need to comfort you.”
“I thought…”
“Well, maybe that’s your issue. You keep all your thoughts and feelings to yourself. You just expect the worst of people.”
“Can you blame me?” I wrap my arms around myself, “You’re holding me hostage! I’ve lost everyone. What if you leave me too,” I croak out.
“Jesus, Valerie. I don’t know how you see me but I consider you a friend. I care about you, not about why you’re here.” Jason grabs me and pulls me into a bear hug, squeezing tightly. 

I squeeze him back in affection.

He’s been by my side since I was brought here, letting me lean on him whenever I needed it. He never asked me to ‘toughen up’ or told me to ‘get over it.’ It wasn’t all bad either, I even managed to enjoy his company on better days. I surprise myself that I do consider him a friend. 

“So cute” Fiona chirps, her face between her hands as she leans on the bench.
We break apart, both of us surprisingly embarrassed to be caught in such an intimate moment.
“It’s not like that” Jason explains, going to grab his pizza from the microwave.

Fiona spins quickly as the opening and slamming of the front door shakes the house.
Leah storms into the room, throwing her leather jacket onto the dining table and slicking her hair back. I grab Jason’s arm when I see Leah’s light grey shirt slick with a dark liquid. The others come in, all in a foul or quiet mood. Before I know it I’m running over to Leah who’s on her way to her office, her face stone cold.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice high with anxiety.
Either Leah is shocked I've asked or that I am even concerned but she takes a step back before regaining her composure.
“It’s not my blood” she answers, attempting to move past me.
“Whose is it?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I step in front of her again, “is it something to do with Brooke’s murder?”
“Give it a break, Valerie” Marco exclaims, his own appearance ruffled.
I scowl and Leah takes the opportunity to get past me and into her office, slamming the door shut. 

I need my answers, and I will get them, I don't care who’s in my way. Obviously something important happened otherwise they wouldn’t be so rattled. As the others gather to discuss or leave to their own rooms for some alone time, I hurry to the kitchen, dampening a cloth before Jason can say anything. I run to the office doors and hear a cry of protest behind but I'm already through, slamming the door shut on their upset faces and locking it. 

“I’ll discuss it later with you Jason. I need a minute” Leah says, her back to the desk.
“It’s me” I sputter, not wanting her to think I attempted to trick her.
“Fuck” she sighs, turning around. “Get out.”
“You found out something,right?”
“Get out” she repeats.
I put my hands up, one still holding the cloth. “I will. Just let me clean you up a little.”
Leah stills for a moment, her eyes going wide, as if the suggestion was odder than the easter bunny at christmas.
“Why?” she almost whispers. “You know I didn't get this way because I was hula hooping.”
“Can you imagine, though?” I laugh at the mental image as I lower my hands. I quickly realise she is not laughing and I cough uncomfortably. “Will you let me?”
Leah reluctantly nods, getting out of her chair and coming to the front of the desk, jumping up onto so she sits higher up. I hesitantly walk up and grasp Leah’s right hand with my left hand. I wipe her bloodied knuckles with the damp cloth. The only sound is the occasional hiss of breath as Leah sucks in air through her teeth when it stings, and my own thundering heartbeat. I continue in silence, eyes focused on her knuckles until I've cleaned them up enough to see the scrapes underneath, most likely to scab over.
“You're not going to ask what I did to them?” Leah asks quietly, her hand shivering slightly.
“I can guess you used your fists,” I reply, “and probably other things. You’ve got some blood on your temple.”
I move forward, positioning myself between her legs. She stares at me as I push the damp cloth against her left temple, Leah wincing at the pressure.
“We got company as we were leaving,” Leah explains, looking away. 

Her small admittance, barely a noticeable peace offering but i take it anyway, holding onto it as i try to keep her talking to distract from the pain.
“I figured as much.”
I take the cloth lower, dabbing at her brow, where drops of blood have dried in the hair. There’s a dark red almost purple bruise forming underneath her eye.
“Did you win?” I ask, wiping sideways.
Leah’s lips quirk a little, “of course.”
“Good.”
“Really? Thought you’d be happy if i didn’t come back.”
I let out a chuckle, “I won’t lie and say I'm not happy you got beat up a little but I honestly wouldn’t want you to get extremely hurt.”
Leah grabs my wrist to stop me from wiping, “Do you mean that?”

I try not to tear away from her grasp as the sudden vulnerability makes me uncomfortable. Leah’s a cold, stubborn and difficult person. This wasn’t like her. I don’t know which Leah is the real one and I'd rather not find out if I can help it. It would only make this mess more complicated and prod at my resolve with hot pokers. 

But I find myself swallowing as I answer her, “I do.”
Leah lets my wrist go. I lean further in, gently tap her cut lip, the split wide and swollen. I can feel her rapid breath against my face, making my own heart feel like it's having palpitations. My heart thunders in my ears as I continue to dab the wound. I can feel her lip quivering beneath my touch and it makes my heart beat even faster.
This is a bad idea. Very bad idea. I keep my focus on Leah’s lips, terrified to look in her eyes as she leans closer, her breath smelling like tobacco and her aroma smelling like vanilla. I shiver a little as she traces her fingers up and down my arm lightly, an unexpected want growing in me.
I need to stop this, before I can't go back.
I start to open my mouth, not sure if I’m about to voice my concern or kiss her but suddenly I'm stumbling back. 

Leah just shoved me away.
Leah looks at me for a moment, chuckling to herself. 

“Is this just a game to you?” She asks, her whole demeanour shifting.
I’m stunned. “What are you talking about?”
“What was the plan? You seduce me so I’ll give you information?”
“Are you kidding me? Is that what you think?!” I shout, throwing the damp cloth at her.
She catches it with ease, throwing it on the desk beside her.
“Of course that’s what I think. You hate me and I barely tolerate you. Unless I’m wrong?” She pushes herself off the desk, standing fully straight.