I walk straight to the bathroom after class.

I'm not about to do drugs or anything, so calm your horses. I just need a minute to myself.

Unfortunately, I'm tailed by Erin. Worst guy to hang with, I swear. Always on about achieving freedom from our government.

"Hey, Magno, where ya headed?"

I turn. "None of your business."

He frowns. "Jeez, I was just trying to see if you wanted to come to the party at Aurora's tonight."

I narrow my eyes. Aurora? But she was a person-hater. Why would she host a party?

"Fine, I'll come. But only because I wanna know what Aurora's up to," I say.

Erin grins. "Great, see you there."

The rest of the school day goes by quickly, but it's boring.

When I get home, I go to my room and slam the door. Lock it. I don't need Mom knowing I'm partying. I shower, then do some makeup, apply some eyeliner. I get a little crazy with the eyeliner and make a bunch of pretty swirly symbols. I put on some ripped jeans, a baggy shirt, and a flannel on.

I take one last look in the mirror, then flop on my bed and text Aurora.

[Hey, when's the party?]

She replies with, [Eight.]

I put my phone down and exhale. Then shake my hair out. It's still damp, even after blow-drying it.

What could be up with Aurora and Erin?

I think for a moment.

Then one name pops into my head. Jude Kirnan.

The guy that I can't face.

Last summer, I kind of, maybe, kissed him?

And he didn't take kindly to that.

To be fair, it was only on the cheek, but he slapped me.

I bury my face in my hands and groan. Please don't let that be what Aurora and Erin are doing.

My door opens and Mom is standing there, a letter in her hand.

She has her arms crossed. I sit up.

"What?"

Immediately, I can tell she's pissed.

"This letter is from a friend of yours, right?"

She tosses it at me. It smacks my shoulder.

I pick it up and freeze. Jude, that bastard.

Slowly, carefully, I read it. Shit.

"Mom, please, I can explain!"

"You'd better, young man."

I take a breath and comb my fingers through my hair. "So, Jude isn't my boyfriend. We've never dated. And I don't do drugs."

Mom narrows her eyes. "I find that hard to believe. Especially with that shirt and your freakish friends."

I wince. "They're not freakish. And I don't do drugs!"

"You'd better not be. . .you know," she says. "I will remove you from school and send you to a private one."

I look down. "I'm not."

We've talked about this before. If I don't like girls, she'll send me to a stupid school with nuns who think they can exorcise me. But I don't like girls. I just don't tell her that.

She leaves and I scream into my pillow.

How I hate this house.

It's seven-thirty, so I grab my bag and hoist myself out to window. Worst and best choice my parents ever made was letting me have a window.

I find my bike in the shed and bike to Aurora's. I find I'm a little early.

"Hey, Aurora," I say, setting my bag on the floor. "Need some help?"

Aurora looks up. "Yeah, I could use it."

We set up the party together and talk about Aurora's new friend who I suspect to be more.

Her name is Hera. Apparently, she's the same age as Aurora, and lives only two states over.

Guests trickle in slow at first, then steadily. Finally, the last of them are through the door.

The craziest of the partying has started, so I find a quieter corner.

I quickly find this to be a bad decision.

"Hey, there."

I look up and discover a brunet guy who smells strongly of alcohol.

"Hi," I say, and wave.

"You look awfully lonely over here. Care for some company?"

Usually, in parties, company either entails making out or something more intimate.

I shake my head. "Nah, I'm good."

His hand finds my hip. "You sure?"

I flinch away. "Yep. . ."

"'Cause I think you need a little loving," he says in my ear.

Suddenly, the guy is yanked off of me by the collar.

"I'm pretty sure he said he was good."

Jude fucking Kirnan.

He pushes the guy away.

The guy looks at him. Then me.

"Oh, I see. He's your little whore."

Jude turns to him. "No. He's not even my friend."

Somehow, the words sting.

The guy does leave me alone, though.

Jude sits next to me. "You alright?"

I scoot up against the wall and away from him. "Um, yeah. Thanks to you."

"I don't need your praise."

The way he says it is so cold. This guy pisses me off.

"Well, fine, don't take it then," I say, anger rising.

Jude looks to me, surprise etched into his features. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're okay. But I really didn't do much."

I roll my eyes. Of course, the golden boy would say that.

"What do you even want?" I ask, propping my chin on the heel of my palm.

Jude tilts his head. "To talk to you. I wanted to say I'm sorry for slapping you last summer."

"That was forever ago," I say. I'm eager to get off the subject.

"Well, you see, I didn't dislike it. It's just you surprised me."

I stare at him. Strawberry-blond hair in a shaggy cut. His undercut is darker, like brown. It's a little messy. Brown eyes focused intently on me. He's cute and it makes me mad. "Yeah, well, you surprised me with that slap."

His eyes are intense, like he's trying to figure out what I am.

"Please just kiss me," he says.

My gaze snaps so quickly to him, my head spins a little. "What?!"

His face is slightly flushed. "I want you to kiss me again."

I put my head in my hands. "Stop joking. It's not funny."

"I'm not joking. I've been meaning to ask you since, like, ten months ago."

I can't help looking up, letting my hands dangle. "No way. You're not. . .What about Madison?"

"I'm bi, Magno," Jude says, a small smile on his lips. "And she likes Erin."

I flush. "What the fuck. . ."

Jude brushes my hair out of my face, and I hate how much I like it.

"So, you really want me to kiss you?"

Jude nods. "Yeah."

I lean forward. Then yank back. "I'm too sober for this."

I get up and find a beer. I drink it, then another. Fifteen minutes later, I'm plastered.

Jude comes up next to me and I kiss him.

Wish granted, I think dimly.

I break away and inhale, but before I can kiss him again, someone hooks their arms under my shoulders and drags me away. I hear Jude yelling. The party is so chaotic, though, I highly doubt anyone hears him.

Something sticks into my neck and I slip into unconsciousness.

A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead. The static in my head slowly disappears, filled by the sound of roaring cheers and the smell of blood and piss. My eyes open and it takes all my strength to lift my head up straight. As my vision focuses, I see Jude slumped against the wall in front of me.

I muster the energy to call his name just barely above a whisper, "...Jude..." He doesn't move, so I try to. My limbs feel so heavy.

I'm focusing on moving my arm when a groan escapes Jude's lips, the same lips I'd been kissing hours before. How long had it been since the party? There's no windows in the room that clue me in on what time it is. More and more feeling returns to me as I sit, only moving my head to evaluate the room around us. The door has a small window towards the top of its frame and the walls around us are dirty. What disturbs me the most is the bloody pools on the ground along the edges of the wall. As if many people had sat there before them, bleeding.

Thankfully, Jude didn't seem to be adding to the dried puddles of blood, but his face was swollen with a purple bruise on his cheek.

I move my arm and relief washes over me as I realize I have enough strength back. I scoot over to him and take his face in my hands, checking for more wounds. "Jude, its me. It's Magno!"

He groans again, this time moving his hand up to grab onto his forearm. I shush him quietly and pull him closer. "We have to be quiet, I'm not sure where we are. But you have to wake up, we have to get out of here." My head starts to pound as more and more questions start to fill it up. Who took us here? Why us? What's all that noise and cheering we hear outside?

Jude's eyes flutter open, and he looks scared. "Magno..." he trails off, and a pound on the door startles them both.

"Oi! Hands off each other until it's your turn to fight!" He kicks the door this time; Jude panics and holds both hands up and rolls on his side, away from me.

I scoot back and try to look through the small window to see their face; no luck. I'd have to be standing up to see anything clearly, and my legs are not in good enough shape to do that right now.

"Do you know why they took you?" Jude asks, taking another heavy sigh.

"If I knew anything, I would tell you. Did you see who grabbed me?"

"Some asshole white guy with a red beard, I've..." he adjusts his weight and lifts up a leg, grunting with the movement, "I've never seen him before."

I run a hand through my hair and close my eyes, recalling what the door-kicker said, "The man at the door, he said something about a fight?"

"I heard that too. Maybe it's a fighting ring or something like that? It sounds like they've got the crowd for it." Jude says, gesturing to the jeering and yells coming through the door.

"Shit, that scares me to hell. I've never been a good fighter." Jude looks at me, worry written across his face. I know what he's thinking about. I remember catching his eye at the end of last summer when Cody and I were fighting. Cody was teasing me about being slapped and blown off by Jude. I got so fed up that I tried to land a punch on the guy, but I ended up bruised til Thanksgiving.

"I'm sorry about last summer, when I slapped you. I really am."

"I know."

A kick on the door interrupts anything more. But instead of someone yelling through the window, the door swings open. And in walks the asshole white guy with a red beard. Jude pulls his legs up to his chest, he looks scared.

"Good, you're awake. The drugs should wear off a bit more in the next 20 minutes, so now is a good time to go get prepped for your fight." He knocks on the open door and 2 more men come into the room. One of them has a shaved head and looks about 40 years old, the other one has trim blonde hair and couldn't be more than 20. The blonde one holds a look of fear as he walks in and hooks an arm under my armpit. The two of them bring me onto my unsteady feet and I try to walk with them. I hear Jude calling after me from the room, promises to find me, to save me. I have to ignore him right now and try to focus. I have to figure this all out, then I can find Jude and get us out of here.

I try to memorize the route we take, but with my head still a bit groggy, its hard to keep it down. Half walking, half being dragged, we pass by doors identical to the one in our cell. And now I feel lost, shit.

The hallways of cells end, and it opens into a slightly nicer-looking hallway. Less blood, less urine, and a balcony edge now. I move my head forward to glimpse over the edge and I see it. Rows and rows of people standing, yelling, no, screaming. And in the center, I can just barely make out a small ring with what looks like 4 people in it. And then the view is gone, a wall obscuring any more details I could gather from our walk. We turn into a large room and they set me down into a chair. The bald man stops and whispers with the man sorting through one of the clothing racks. The blonde follows him like a dog, turning to look at me briefly with a pitied look.

Baldy and Blondie leave the room, and I'm alone with the new one. The man is tall, very lean, and has glasses. He has a pointy nose and a tattoo of a dragonfly on his neck, looking as if it were crawling toward his eye from his shoulder.

"Why am I here?" A defiant, brave tone escapes me, and my question comes out laced with fear.

The Dragonfly man stops and dips his head to look at me over his glasses. "You were brought here to fight. I'm here to style you for it." He pulls out a measuring tape and holds it across my chest.

"Why me?" I ask, a little braver. He doesn't seem like he would hurt me for asking questions.

"I don't know why it's anyone. I think it's up to the hounds on who they pick."

"The hounds?"

"I think Callum brought you and your boyfriend in, right?" I stare blankly. "Callum is the bald man with the red beard. Don't tell him I told you his name, though; he'd probably be upset with me. And I don't fancy a beating." He continues taking my measurements and walks off to rummage through the racks of clothing.

"I don't fancy a beating either," I say flatly, staring at Dragonfly as he glances back at me intensely, almost as if he were... assessing me.