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Four

Chance is swinging his fist at Dustin, who narrowly dodges it and delivers an uppercut, and Chance staggers backwards just as I land. Not waiting for the restraints to come off I run towards them, tearing off the hem of my pant leg and leaving a small wound that I wouldn't have noticed if not for the pouring blood that I see as I move and look down at the floor that's noticed by my wrist hologram-it begins to beep loudly.

I suck in a deep breath, slowing down before retrieving a small spray bottle from my back pocket. Uncapping the bottle, I squirt a little of the liquid onto my ankles where the skin has torn, and immediately the skin starts to heal.

Then I run towards the boys, who are still fighting, punches and kicks and shouts.

I run in between them, just as Dustin is swinging his fist-

And hits me in my temple. I stagger backwards from the force, and from the looks on their faces I'm sure there's going to be a bruise there tomorrow.

Dustin and Chance curse. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry, Corinne, I didn't mean to-" Dustin tries to apologise, but I just shoot a smile on his direction.

Chance wraps his arms around me, pulling me to his chest before rubbing my temple gently, not that I can feel it, but I can see it. The only thing on my mind right now is the smell of Chance. He smells like home, the one we had in the past, and sweet stuff that remind me of apples or vanilla or strawberries. It's soothing and relaxing and so familiar I want to drown in it and I wouldn't complain.

His face is marked with a few bruises and scratches, and unconsciously I reach up to touch his face with trembling fingers. Chance stares into my eyes the whole time I trace every feature of his face. He evens stops running my injured temple. My fingers glide across his skin. The slope of his nose. His cheekbones. The little rough stubble on his chin. His eyebrows. There is such perfection in his imperfections, and it makes my heart hurt whenever he winces slightly when my fingers come in contact with his abrasions.

I miss him. My heart aches and longs to be held in his arms forever, but it's just my imagination. It'll never happen. Chance clears his throat after a while, and gently takes my hand, before letting it go.

"You could've at least shouted that you were here," he remarks as he resumes massaging my head, though I can't feel it. Instead, I drown in the sound of his voice. Yet again, I'm tempted to tell him everything.

I reply sarcastically, "Oh yeah, I'd definitely love to scream my lungs out at two boys who wouldn't even turn their heads at my call. And in the dead of the night."

"We would turn our heads. And plus, it's not really-" Chance jabs back.

"You get my point," I say exasperatedly, cutting him off.

Chance chuckles amusedly, and that sends a smile growing on my face. Chance opens his mouth to say something, but Dustin intercepts.

"Are you okay, Corinne?" Dustin reaches for me, but Chance keeps my out of his reach, like the overprotective person he is. But hey, I'm not complaining.

"I'm fine, don't worry," I flash him a smile and glare at Chance, after not letting the tingles of déjà vu that Chance gives me rule my head.

"He's my friend, Chance," I whisper to him. Chance doesn't react, just keeps his eyes on Dustin, watching him like a hawk.

"Chance," I shake him gently. His jaw starts working, and he lets go of me. For a second I miss his scent, but I don't let it show, quickly covering it up with worry. He takes a slow, dramatic step towards Dustin. What on earth is he trying to do?

I grab his arm, but he shakes me off. I dart in front of him. "Chance," I say, "stop it! Why are you hitting him? He didn't even do anything!"

"Get out of the way, Amber," Chance's tone is low and dangerous.

"For what? So you can beat my best friend up?" I challenge. This is the Chance I hate-the one who used to call me names and kick me and laugh and mock me. It isn't Chance.

"I said, get out of the way!" Chance growls. I shrivel beneath his cold, hard stare.

Dustin pulls me behind him. "Don't you dare talk to my friend like that," he spits.

"Stop with the act, Ridelink," Chance warns.

What on earth is he talking about?

"Let's get out of here, Corinne, he's crazy," Dustin pulls me away, taking hold of my wrist.

"Let go of her!" Chance yells, his voice cutting through the night air like a knife, stopping us cold.

I struggle against Dustin, not because I want to hear what Chance is saying, but because a mark would be left on my wrist, by the looks of his white knuckles, and I'd have to use the healing potion again, a complete waste of time.

"I said, let go!" Chance tackles Dustin to the ground, and with a cry, Dustin lets go. I immediately pull Chance off Dustin, and he cradles my wrist in his hand and inspects my bruise that's slowly forming on my skin. I grab the spray bottle and squirt a little on my bruised skin. The colour fades.

"Does it hurt?" Chance asks me, his voice rushed and worried.

I almost tell him that I can't feel anything. Sparks, he doesn't know. I pretend to force a faked smile and nod slowly.

"Corinne, don't listen to him! He's a player, don't you remember?" Dustin calls from behind me, "Do you know what he did?"

I turn around, and Chance growls, "Shut up, Ridelink."

"Oh shut up, Adams," Dustin mocks, rolling his eyes.

I tense. I trust Dustin, but he seems so weird and different now. But on the other hand, I... I can't trust Chance the way I used to...he left me without telling me why, and decides to step in a few years later like nothing happened.

I make my decision.

Turning to Dustin, I ask, "What did he do?"

Dustin smirks triumphantly. Chance says, "it's nothing, Amber, don't listen to him."

"Oh, Chance, your best friend, may have-"

"Keep your mouth shut, Dustin Ridelink," Chance yells, clearly agitated.

I turn to face him. "What do you have to be afraid of? If you really hadn't done anything wrong, there's no need for you to be doing this."

"Amber, I just-" Chance tries to explain.

"Keep your mouth shut, Chance Adams," Dustin booms, mocking Chance.

I sigh. "Just stop it already, and tell me what's going on." I flail my arms about exasperatedly, tired of Dustin beating around the bush.

And before Chance can stop him, Dustin blurts, "Chance killed your parents,"