Day two of starting a new school was normally the worst because it was when the new school glamour began to fade. Today the sun made a welcomed appearance as simply a prop beneath the clouds because from it I felt no warmth and only the chill of the January breeze.

I tucked my fists in the pockets of my navy blue trench coat as I walked through the school entrance, taking a right down the hall on my way to the lockers.

"Hey!" One random girl waved. I take a quick glance over my shoulder thinking she was talking to someone else but it was just me.

"Hey..." I was hesitant to wave back.

After her, more people greeted me the same. Some while passing from the opposite end of the hall or resting by the bay window and, others while they rummaged through their lockers. It was strange since they barely looked in my direction yesterday.

I opened the locker to shove my backpack inside, and then I slipped off the coat to hang it on the hook. I gave inside the rectangular box a once over before I closed it to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything or didn't put everything in. Valerie strolled up to me as I closed it.

"Hi!" Her slim, debutante-like frame stood haughtily before me. Snideness fixed her eyes that were set within their sockets and her plastic smile that could possibly worsen the pollution in our oceans twitched her full lips. I levelled a glowering gaze, gripping my iPad to my chest and shifting my weight to one leg in waiting for her to disrupt my morning.

"I wanted to apologize about yesterday for bringing up your brother," she began, "It wasn't my place." Her smile fell to a feigned pout and her head bowed twice.

I tilted my head slightly. "Hmm," I grumbled, not buying it.

"I should've checked my source before I took their word for it," she continued, "I don't know why your mother would lie about her own son?" She revealed with a shrug of sly innocence.

"My mother?"

"But I guess you never know?" She finished and turned on her onyx block heels and down the hall.

My eyes narrowed to slits and the corner of my lip lifted with disgust. Still, I considered what she said. If there was no truth to it, she wouldn't have brought it up. Doing something like this I wouldn't put past my mother, but doing it knowing that it makes us look bad more than it does good? I couldn't believe.

When I got to class Valerie wasn't there among the other students. There was Seth, in his seat next to hers.

"Sup Ellison!" He said with a bob of his head.

"Hi, Seth," I replied while passing him to get to my seat.

Mr Khan wasn't here today, so in his place was a supply, Ms Dae. She was a short rough-looking woman with spectacles rested on the bridge of her Grecian nose.

I silenced all the chatter around me with the music from my earphones and began to sketch the petals of the hibiscus I had seen fall from the vase in our kitchen. I normally preferred drawing on paper but I left my sketchbook in the car.

Class began after the National Anthem, then the announcements that I didn't care to listen to. Valerie and Leighton made their entrance shortly after, causing a rise of volume in the room again to offer congratulations to Leighton.

He after proceed to explain to Ms Dae why they were late. Valerie didn't see the value in explaining themselves and tapped her foot impatiently while fixing her naturally brown hair that had been lightened with a tawny dye.

My sketch was halfway complete and nowhere near the scene I had witnessed this morning. Ms Dae began to explain the work we had to do for the duration of the period. I closed the tab with the sketch to leave and resume when class was over. My earphones I kept in with the volume a little lower, to hear her.

Today, we would finish our reading and write an analysis on a character of our choice. I started on it right away, with Tara's father as my choice. Leighton found his way and filled the seat next to me.

Not being able to stand the fact that my attention wasn't drawn to him nor did I utter a word given his arrival he took an earbud from my ear.

"Earth to Eden." He singsonged. I shifted my focus from the screen to his face reluctantly, grinning before we made eye contact.

"How are you?" He rested against his chair on the back of the wall now that he's accomplished my attention.

"I'm fine."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," I said because I didn't want any follow up questions.

I wasn't able to sleep at all last night. Whether it was because my parents decided to fall back into their routine of nightly scream matches or because my head wouldn't stop hurting. Who knows?

"Did you?"

"Yeah, but only because I dreamt of you," he delivered confidently.

I pressed my bottom lip into the top one-pursuing them. I cringed at his words, nose scrunched as I shook my head disapprovingly ."I didn't like that line."

"No?" He breathed, his shoulders slouching. I shook my head once more with a subtle smile, amused by his surprised expression.

"I'm not lying though," he promised.

"If you say so, Leighton." I giggled and turned back around.

In the next thirty minutes, I'm nearly done with the first draft of the analysis. He had gone from being on his phone to attempting to take a nap and now he was playing with my hair.

"Are you bored?" I asked, glancing down at the brunette strand he had split into three between his fingers.

He slid back from the edge into the seat, lifting his head to me. "I was wondering when you'd notice," he said with a smile.

I rolled my eyes. "You're aware we have an assignment to complete right?" I crossed my arms.

"Mine's complete," he said coolly.

"You're kidding?!" I gaped. His eyes crinkled at the corners as they flickered with hubris. "I'm top of the class for a reason."

I scoffed. "Well, since I'm not and very behind I don't have the time to entertain you," I voiced grimly.

"Fine," he uttered before he took hold of my chair and drew it closer to his and right after brought in front of him my iPad.

"Gene Westover believes-" He began to read aloud

I shoved his shoulder lightly. "In your head!"

He scanned the screen, his eyes focused with a solid expression. My words had only filled two pages. I wouldn't think it took that long to look over but he was taking his time. Soon he picked up the stylus and began jotting and crossing out. When I stretched over to take a quick peek he shifted the device. It was almost like I had just handed in my work to be evaluated by the real teacher.

Finally, he set the pen down and turned to me. "So...?" His blank expression and unnerving silence made me anxious to know what he had to say.

"What you have so far is your opinion on Gene as a father, not an analysis of his character. It's not an opinion piece," he criticized with a tone that I felt was a tad harsh. Immediately I caught offence.

"I'm analyzing how trash of a father he is."

"No. You're not," he said and I thought about how I didn't ask for his feedback in the first place.

"This is truly just a list of how horrible he is." He gestured to the screen. I rolled my eyes.

"If you're going analyze his parenting there's more to it than that. If he's a bad father, it's not just about what did but also why and, what caused him to act like that?" I blinked inattentively at him, as he reminded me why I preferred math. I also didn't like being told that what I was doing is wrong.

He nudged me and I returned my gaze to him "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you should go back to being bored," I stated with a tight lipped smile.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, you got this!"

I side eyed him and pulled the iPad in front of me. "Don't patronise me." I highlighted the page and deleted everything I wrote.

When this class ended I wasn't too happy for the next and anticipated lunch throughout the length of it. Leighton and Rowen's hockey practice was at lunch but I decided not to go because Valerie was very loud about her special attendance.

Instead I made my way up to the fourth floor where Leighton said the art room was.

My parents were very vague on the school I was going to and our move in general but during one of my mother's gossiping marathons I heard about how glorified the art program was here and how hard it was to get into.

I hated the idea of this place a little less when I found out I got in. I ignored the impending thought of what was taken in exchange.

The class didn't run in the same fashion as traditional classes and on occasion, various artists from all over the world visited to share their techniques. The next scheduled class was next week.

I entered a room filled with finished and unfinished paintings, drawings and sculptures. The otherwise bland and empty room was plagued with colour and crowded with canvases.

I scanned the room in avid awe, eager to run my fingers along the smooth textured clay of the figure skating sculpture. The oil painting next to it was a vision of a beautiful old town estate.

I couldn't help but feel like my work was no good in comparison but I was too fascinated for my mind to dwell and feed into that insecurity.

When I neared the back of the room I was startled by Maëile who sat on a stool in the corner jotting in an indigo journal. Her hair was tied back behind her ears which accentuated her round face. On her chin was a small beauty mark and an identical one on her right cheek. With her head bowed, her tight curls covered her eyes.

"I didn't know anyone else was in here," I said when she noticed me.

"Too bad that didn't last longer," she mumbled.

"Are any of the pieces yours?" I asked, gesturing with my index behind me.

"No," she said definitively but it sounded like she had more to add but did not and just blinked at me.

"Ok!" I forced a smile, ready to escape the unsettling mood she had created.

A lot of the sculptures in here were tagged by Maya, I noticed, travelling the room once more.

I was not surprised she was in this program because she was a part of Leighton's club and the VIPs are supposed to be the best of the best one way or another.

Her sculptures, I thought were beautiful! All of them were perfected with mistakes that the others didn't afford to leave as if she left them there on purpose. Every piece was unique in its own way but hers stood out.

I recalled the time I tried sculpting when I was thirteen. I could never get the material to hold and the process of the art was difficult to keep and required too much focus and steps to follow.

When I painted or drew, I preferred to just let my mind tell my hand to do whatever it wants and that usually reflected the mood I was in during that time. Sometimes I painted with a specific image in mind but I preferred the feeling of it just flowing naturally, shutting my brain off and just doing.

"You know, you don't strike me as the stupid, naive type," Maeile's low pitched voice sounded from behind one of the larger canvases.

I laughed despite there being nothing to laugh at. "What?" I didn't know what to make of the comment.

"I had a little hope for you considering your old school reputation, but that doesn't seem prominent here..." She continued to be snide, only now stepping into view.

"I-uh, don't think I'm following." I was stunned.

"Wylder and his goons, they're all toying with you." She revealed, irritated by the fact that I hadn't noticed sooner.

I scoffed, still caught by surprise from her first statements. "I mean, I'm not sure I'm surprised or if I care..." I trailed off. Flashes or yesterday's events flickering in my mind as if pieces were being drawn together but I was lost in the the mix.

"How are they playing me?" I began my move towards her, curiosity picking at my brain.

"A school wide bet, on how long it takes Eden Ellison to have sex with the infamous Leighton Wylder," she mocked prudely, not at my expense but to emphasize that she was opposed to it.

"Huh." I breathed, falling silent. My thoughts flustered like the bubbles in a shaken soda can. Each fighting for first exit through the lid.

She wasn't sure what reaction I was having so she said, "Keep in mind that he and I are not blood-related." She cleared her throat.

"And if you did happen to get actual feeling for him...know that it's probably a simple infatuation and there is no need to feel hurt by his betrayal." She was attempting to soften the blow of the very heavy bomb she had just dropped.

"Please, don't start crying, because if you haven't noticed-" she stressed with her hands. "-I am not the comforting type." She chuckled awkwardly, rubbing her clasped hands together.

I inhaled slowly, releasing it with less calm. "The whole school?" I looked her in the eyes, she wasn't too far from me anymore.

"Yes."

"When was this decided?" I asked flatly.

The betrayal she had mentioned earlier I hadn't felt from Leighton but someone else I didn't start to think about just yet.

"Before you arrived," she answered. I raised my eyebrows, shocked.

She indulged my surprise and continued to explain."They do this all the time when it's announced that there will be a new student. Each member takes their turn, and they decide the bet but normally the crowd of participants is smaller."

I nodded for her to continue, while I reviewed every instance in my mind. Slowly I was becoming disgusted by the little moments I had with him that I thought were remotely sweet or even just plain fun, because on my part all it was, was genuine fun. The kisses we shared that lingered now nauseated me.

The entire school? My question echoed. I couldn't stomach the possibility, its actuality.

I don't know how much I would've cared if this just involved the VIPs, but the whole school? All the congratulatory whispers about me and him together, the friendly hellos from this morning, Leighton's race. It all felt coordinated to further trap me.

"This specific kind of bet is unique to Wylder because of his reputation. His notable record sits on four days and one hour." She continued.

I can admit that I had thought about a relationship with Leighton, never seriously but I did though there were no actual feelings there. I preferred us messing around casually.

The fact that he would've won this little bet last night if Rowen hadn't interrupted, made me hate myself more than I'm hating him right now.

"What's the point of the bet though, to see how easy I am?" I scoffed. My brows shrugged in a frown.

"For everyone else?" She nodded in answer. "For him and his friends, it's more about his ability to make it happen. They invited you to the meeting yesterday to get an idea of how hard you will make it for him, then they place their bets."

"Wow!" My eyes fell to the floor, blinking in disbelief at how bafflingly set up the whole thing was.

"I think you should just put distance between the two of you and avoid the situation altogether," she advised sincerely.

But I began tossing my head. "No." I paused. "I'll make this easier for him and break his record," I said first as just a thought that then slowly progressed into a good idea.

I met her eyes again, with a vindictive smile and she stared at me wide eyed.

"Two days, nineteen hours, forty-five minutes," I told her. Her brows crinkled not understanding.

"Place the bet under my name," I instructed.