It's strange. Normally I am the one to approach Quinton, but today, for some reason, I find myself face to face with him in the hall. People pass by, slowly, very slowly, to watch the train wreck they know is about to happen. Everyone knows by now that if the two of us are nearby something is bound to happen. It's almost like a show that they get on a regular basis and don't even have to pay for.

Behind me Langley is growling while everyone else is simply staring on, waiting to see what happens. They know it will be a fight, but watching a fight is still fun to them, even if they know it will happen. The demon before me smirks as his eyes look over everyone before returning to me. I don't know what to expect...

"Getting private lessons now are we, Princess?"

My eye twitches. How did he...

"Good, a woman should always know how to defend herself."

Fuck him.

The two of us are on the ground in a second. The hallway becomes an audience as they watch and cheer us on. He's winning… whatever this is, not that I'm going to give up because of that! As if I'd take it lying down. He may be winning now but I can turn the tides and I will! I’d rather break every bone in my body than let Quinton take an easy win. I'm not going down without a fight!

We roll around on the ground, exchanging kicks and punches. Hell, I bit him a couple times, not that he didn't bite back. Quinton has his arm around my neck in a second, and a leg around my waist, keeping me on the floor. Langley jumps in at that moment and tries to pull the bastard off me.

Quinton's left fist, the one that isn't around my neck, hits the boy directly in the jaw, sending him into the wall. I take this moment, when he is more preoccupied with Langley than me, to push myself up, Quinton on my back. I stumble forward, both of us landing on the floor. The shock made Quinton loosen his grip and gave me the opportunity to get free.

I grab the boy by the hair and bring my knee into his chest, once, twice. He grabs my knee as I bring it up for the third time and flips me back onto the ground. I'm sure he would have continued using me as a punching bag had the professors not come out at that moment to pull us apart.

"What do you two think you're doing!" the teacher holding Quinton screams. One has their arms around me and a third is standing between the two of us, glaring not only at us but the kids who have crowded around to watch us like we're a show. I suppose to them we are one. They all slowly scurry away, glancing back at Quinton and I to watch a second longer, but eventually disappear in hopes to not feel the teacher’s wrath.

Quinton's expression has gone back to being that of utter boredom, while I can't seem to keep the steam from blowing out of my ears. I pull my arm away from the teacher, rubbing my hand as I do so. Is his body made of rock, too? My fists have never hurt so much.

"To the dean’s office, now."

Quinton rolls his eyes but does as he is told. Sure, he listens to them. Stupid prick...

The two of us make our way to the dean’s office with two of the three teachers with us. One is watching me; the other has his eyes on Quinton. I keep my eyes ahead of me because if I were to look at him I'd probably jump at him again, the freaking jerk. I don't know what he's doing beside me, but I imagine it's not much. Like he would show anything other than apathy.

We reach the office and take our seats before the dean. He's a chubby old man with a balding head that makes one want to tease him for the bright shine that could be blinding if the light hit it right. His eyes look over both of us before he asks, "What happened?"

"He's a dick, that's what happened," I reply, crossing my arms as I send a glare to the boy beside me. The bastard is sitting like he's royalty. He has one leg over the other and his hands are placed comfortably in his lap. Damn him! Trying to look better than me. I'm the royalty here!

Quinton snorts. "I'm sorry, I do believe you were the one who tackled me. I was simply trying to make conversation."

"You called me a princess!" I shout back accusingly.

"Are you not one?"

"Fucking prick!"

"Boys," Dean Coyler sighs, rubbing his temple as he does. "I do hope this will not become a reoccurring thing.” It's already a reoccurring thing, though. "We cannot have violence such as this in school. I am going to let you off with a warning, just this once. Do you understand?"

I roll my eyes. Sure, just this once, he says. I can tell by looking at him that he has no intention of informing my father about this. His hands are shaking, not out of anger but fear. If my father knew that I had been harmed at school he'd be furious. The dean would probably lose his job. He knows that. I know that… hell, Quinton knows that.

The two of us nod, promise not to let it happen again, though we all know it will, and we are sent off to return to class… with escorts, of course. We're silent throughout the hall, though the tension between us says everything for us.

We are only getting started.