Pencil, Paper and Passion.

"I'm going to class."

"No, you're not. You're going home."

"I'm not missing any more school over this!" I glared at Ben, hands fisted on my hips. We'd been arguing for the past five minutes, after Ben's brother had taken my statement and left, and it was beginning to grate on my nerves. "I'm going to class."

"Elizabeth, you weren't even coherent an hour ago."

Growling low in my throat, I turned to face Mr. Avery. "Tell him. I have to go to class."

With an uncomfortable grimace, the principal raised lifted his hands, palm up, and shrugged. "Maybe it would be best if you went home and got some rest."

"No." My fists clenched even tighter and I could feel my nails digging into my palms. "I'm going to class. I'm going to act like everything is normal. I'm not going to let whoever did this see me as a weakling. Not anymore."

"Elizabeth..." Ben sighed my name. "This isn't the time to show everybody how strong you are. You'll only end up hurting yourself."

I snorted. "Oh, come off it. I'm not sick or injured, so don't treat me like an invalid. Going to class isn't going to put me into shock."

Ben stared at me silently for several moments, before letting his eyes slide over to Mr. Kalebrow. "Fine. You can go to class. But he goes with you."

"What?! No!" Take my bodyguard to class? Was he nuts? "Do you know how distracting that would be for the other students?"

"You either take him with you to class, or I will carry you out of this school over my shoulder. Those are your options. Pick one."

"You listen to me, Benjamin Gallag- BEN, NO!" I screeched, barely managing to dodge Ben's suddenly outstretched hands. "You are not carrying me from this school and Noah is not coming to class with me."

"If he doesn't, I'll carry you out." Mr. Kalebrow suddenly spoke up and I whipped my head towards him. "This is about your safety, kiddo."

"But I-"

"Nope. You get me or an embarrassing trip out of the school. Choose."

"I..." Neither option sounded particularly appealing, but if I had to choose the lesser of two evils... "Fine. I hope you die of boredom, sitting through my classes."

"You're awful, Eliza, do you know that? Here I am, protecting you, and this is how you treat me." Mr. Kalebrow shifted easily into humor, now that he'd gotten his way. I suspected he was also trying to lighten some of the tension lingering in the office.

"You're getting paid to protect me, Kalebrow."

"You know what? That is very true. Come on, let's go put you in some danger. I can save you and get a bonus or something." He got behind me and, dropping his hands on my shoulders, began steering me from the room. "See you later, teachers."

"Hey, wait! Let me- Ben!" The door slammed behind us as I was pushed from the office, protesting all the way. I whirled around to glare at Mr. Kalebrow. "You ass."

He rolled his eyes at me and grabbed my arm. "You can kiss and make up with your boyfriend later. Now, show me where your first class is."

Huffing out an exasperated breath, I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the time. We were fifteen minutes into first period, which meant my first class was with Ben. "Chemistry. It, and all of my other classes, are in the next hall over."

"Let's go."

I led him to the classroom, which didn't take more than a full minute, and stepped inside. The students were lounging about all over the classroom, obviously having been told to just wait and talk amongst themselves until Ben got there. When Mr. Kalebrow stepped in behind me, I took note of the curious faces of my classmates and decided to take care of it immediately. I went to stand in front of Ben's desk and raised my voice above all of theirs. "Hey! Listen up! Most of you know that I was attacked a while back and I'm sure news of what happened this morning has successfully made the rounds." I waited a moment, then continued when I recieved a chorus of nodding heads. "Obviously, someone's fucking with me. Now, as with any rich kid, I've got money to blow. So, I've blown it on a bodyguard."

I turned to gesture at Mr. Kalebrow, standing in the doorway with a look of horrified
amusement. "Meet Noah. Yes, he's as cold and as mean as he looks. No, there is absolutely nothing romantic going on between the two of us. Got it? Okay. Spread the news that Eliza Sinclair has a bodyguard." I didn't wait for an actual confirmation that they did indeed 'get it' or would spread the news, but instead walked over to grab Noah's sleeve and lead him to the back of the classroom, deposit him in a stray chair, then sit down at my own desk.

There were a few murmurs throughout the room, as everybody mulled over my words, deciding what they thought about the whole thing. I ignored it. They didn't have any choice in the matter and I didn't particularly care to hear what they had to say. I wasn't the most popular girl in school, but I was the wealthiest and eveybody knew it. They didn't always like it and here I was, pretty much rubbing their faces in it. So, yes, I ignored what they were saying, but I did catch the gist of it. Poor little rich girl.

I slid my eyes to the left and caught Charlotte eyeing me with sympathy. When she noticed I was looking at her, she flung her arms out and caught my hands in hers. "Eliza, are you okay?! I tried to go by the office, and see how you were, but they told me to just go to class!"

"I'm fine." I tugged on my hands uselessly. "Really, Charles, I'm good. I was a little shocky at first, but now I'm mostly pissed."

"Yeah, I can tell. But still, finding something like that in your locker... Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm sure. How do you know what was in my locker?" I finally pulled my hands free and used them to push my bangs out of my eyes.

"The severed hand? Dude, everybody knows. Do the cops know whose it was?" Charlotte leaned forward in her seat, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Somebody said it might be, like, your dads. That somebody dug him up."

I was going to be sick. I was literally about to puke. Did these people have absolutely no compassion? Were humans really this morbid? I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat and tried not to glare at Charlotte. "It wasn't a hand. It was a cat. Somebody mutilated an orange tabby cat and put into my locker along with a death threat." I looked her in the eye. "You of all people should know that my dad was cremated, so somebody digging him up isn't realistic."

She blinked, her mouth popping open into a perfect 'o'. "I- Eliza, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'm-."

"Forget about it." I turned away, just in time to watch Ben walk into the room. I could tell immediately that he was still angry with me, especially considering that he stalked towards my desk as soon as he saw me. I crossed my arms over my chest and sank down into my seat, glaring at him. He wasn't the only one still angry.

He stopped beside my desk and held out my bookbag. "You left this is Mr. Avery's office. I thought you might need it."

I reached out and snatched it. "Thanks."

He looked like he was about to say something else, but apparently thought better of it and turned around to stalk to the front of the classroom and begin the lesson.

I shot a glance at Noah and noted that he didn't look very happy with me either. Were these two really that upset? Just because I wouldn't allow them to coddle me any longer? They had no right to be mad at me. I was finally dealing with the situation, something Noah had been trying to get me to do from the start, and now they were upset about it. Because I was poor little Eliza, who needed protecting. But what's this? She's not cooperating? She's actually willing to stand up for herself? Oh no. That won't do at all.

"Assholes." I muttered to myself. I was angry too. I was angry at the situation. I was angry at them, for thinking I was WEAK enough to need be wrapped in cotton and tucked away like a doll. I was angry that the people I went to school with were apparently all inconsiderate dicks. That Ben and I couldn't have a normal relationship and therefore couldn't have a normal fight. I was angry at everything. And I wanted to let it go. All of it. I wanted to let go of the anger, the fear, because I was terrified, just for one day. I wanted to be normal for one day. One hour even. And I was angry that I couldn't be.

But could I? A plan quickly formulated in my head. I leaned over and whispered to Charlotte. "Friday. We're having our movie marathon. Tell Micah and Brandt. Oh, and get Micah to bring booze. A lot." If anybody could get their hands on a bunch of alcohol, it would be Micah. He may have looked and acted like a sweet faced dreamer, but I knew for a fact that he was a lot darker than anybody really thought.

Charlotte beamed at me, assuming that this was my way of forgiving her for being so callous earlier. I hadn't yet, but it was Charles. I wouldn't stay mad at her for long anyhow. She made a move to hug me and pouted when I dodged. "Oh, fine. I'll tell them, though. What time?"

"Everybody at my house by six?"

"Sounds good to me!"

I leaned back into my seat, smiling to myself. I'd have my one night. I'd lock myself and my friends in my room and I wouldn't think about any of the crap going on around me. We'd eat and drink ourselves sick, scare ourselves shitless with horror movies, and I would have my one night of freedom. Maybe it would get me through the rest of everything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking into Ben's classroom after school, with Noah trailing behind, was something I did not want to be doing. So, I stepped reluctantly inside and sort of hid behind Noah. Ben was sitting at his desk and looked at me with what I hoped was a gleam of amusement in his eye. "Elizabeth, Noah."

"Hey, teach." Noah moved away from me to drop down into a desk in the front row. "How's it going?"

"Fine." Ben stood up from his desk, eyes intent on me and I knew that that had not been a gleam of amusement, but rather a sort of manic determination. "Elizabeth, could I have a word with you?"

"Uh..." I flicked my eyes over to Noah for a second, before meeting Ben's. "Maybe later...?"

"No, I think now would be best." The gleam intensified as he came around the desk and stalked towards me. His hand clamped around my wrist, tight enough that I couldn't pull free but not enough to hurt, and dragged me towards the back of the room. He pulled me into the supply closet and slammed the door shut.

There was no light on in the small space and Ben and I stood there in the pitch dark, silently. Finally, when I began to feel like the walls that I couldn't even see were closing around me, I broke the silence. "Ben? Could you maybe-?"

The light flickered on and I blinked several times, before focusing on Ben. He stood with one arm stretched above his head, fingers still clamped around the string that turned the light on when pulled. He dropped his hand, letting it land on my shoulder. "Now-."

"Look," I interrupted. "I know why you're mad at me and I'm sorry. But I'm not going to go home and hide under the covers until all of this blows over. That's just not an option."

"Elizabeth, they threatened to kill you. That's not something you just brush off!"

"I know! I know it's serious, Ben. And I know you're worried about me." I lifted my hands and cupped his cheeks. "I get it, I do. I really do and I'm sorry that I can't do what you need me to."

"Why, though? Is your pride so important?" Frustration was evident in his voice and I felt his face jerk slightly in my hands, in some unconscious effort to get away from me. "Is it worth you getting hurt? Or worse?"

"Yes. Yes, it is. Because it's not just pride, Ben. I want this to be over. I'm tired of being scared, of constantly looking over my shoulder. I'm tired of this hanging over my head, all the time. Do you know I barely sleep at night? Every little noise makes my heart stop, makes it impossible to sleep. I'm tired. I'm just so tired, Ben." My voice had dropped into a whisper and I could feel tears welling up. I blinked them away and continued, in what I hoped was a stronger voice. "So, yes, this is worth it. I think you and I both know that the only way the cops are going to catch whoever this is, is if he or she comes after me."

"No." Ben shook his head, effectively pulling away from my hands, before dropping his face into the crook between my neck and shoulder. I could feel his breath there as he spoke. "You're talking about letting them hurt you, just so this will be over. That's not an option."

"If that's what it takes, it's worth it. I'm sorry, this is the only option." I lifted my hands again and tangled my fingers into his hair. "I'm sorry."

"I'm buying a gun and I'm staying at your house."

He said the words so calmly that it took me a moment to register exactly what he'd said. When I had, I used my hold on his hair to yank his head back so I could gape at him face to face. "What. What?! Do you even know how to shoot a gun?"

He snorted. "My older brother is a cop, Elizabeth. Of course I do. I'm licensed to carry a concealed firearm. I've just never felt the need for it. Until now, that is."

"You're... Hold on, I'm picturing you with a gun." I closed my eyes to get a better visual and made a small sound of approval.

"Ouch! Loosen up!" Ben yelped and I realized that I'd unconsciously tightened my fingers in his hair. Immediately, I let loose and muttered sheepishly, "Sorry."

"We were supposed to be having a serious conversation."

"You're the one who brought up your competency with a gun. Smooth good looks, a sharp suit, and a black pistol. It's a really great image."

"Elizabeth."

"Sorry! Okay, I'll be serious. You can't stay at my house, you're my teacher." I wasn't really opposed to the idea, but Brandt and Micah were coming over on Friday. They didn't know about Ben and I wanted to keep it that way.

"I won't tell if you don't." He deadpanned.

"That's not what I meant. Of course I wouldn't tell anybody. But-."

"I'm at your house until nearly midnight every day anyway. I'm just extending the time that I'm there until morning."

"Yeah, and I'm not exactly saying I wouldn't want you to stay at my house, but you can't. At least, you can't stay at my house on Friday."

"What's so special about Friday?"

"My friends are coming over. I've been neglecting them in favor of spending time with you, which sounds insulting and I'm not meaning to be. Sorry, anyway, I just want to spend a little time with them. So, they're staying over on Friday."

"Well..." He seemed to consider it, before nodding. "That gives me the perfect time to buy the gun. I can even get in a little time at the range, with Jamie."

"Wait, do you mean a shooting range?"

"Yes, what other kind of range would I be talking about in relations to a gun? Elizabeth-."

"No, no, wait. You and your brother are going to a shooting range to shoot guns?"

"If he's free and willing, yes. That is the general idea behind going to a shooting range."

"Wait!" I closed my eyes. "Okay, yeah. Perfect. Cop and teacher, sharp suits, shiny black pistols." My eyes popped open. "I want to go."

"For fucks sake, Eliza."

I let myself laugh uproariously in his face, before I had to double over and clutch my sides. Before long, Ben joined me and I realized that all was well with us. He'd found a way to cope with my decision of trying to draw out my attacker. It may have been an extremely violent coping method, but it worked for both of us. I'd get to have this over and done with quickly, and he'd get to stay close and protect me if need be. In a sort of morbid way, it was the perfect solution.

Ben and I spent the rest of my detention locked in the supply closet, talking, cuddling, and making out. When 4 o' clock rolled around, we collected an extremely agitated Noah from his seat at the front of the classroom and left for my home. Ben and I spent the rest of the evening there talking, cuddling, and making out some more, until he went home around ten.

We stood on the front porch, arms wrapped around each other. I let my fingers curl into the fabric of the dark blue sweater he was wearing, at the small of his back. In response, his fingers curled into my hair. Neither of us said anything; we were content to stand in the dark, holding one another in silence. It was just something we needed, after the awful day we'd had. Spending the last half of it wrapped up in each other was our way of coping with the mornings events and our way of apologizing to each other for the fights we'd had as a result.

Eventually, a brisk autumn chill creeped under my sweater and I shivered. Ben chuckled and leaned away from me to rub his hands up and down my arms. "Better go inside."

"I don't want to."

"I don't want you to. But you're cold, and I've got to get home." He used his hold on my arms to pull me up to my toes, so he could lean down and plant his lips against mine. Our breath mingled and our tongues tangled and suddenly, I wasn't cold anymore. I wanted to twist my fingers into his hair, but his hold on my arms prevented it and I settled for digging my fingers into his forearms. All too soon, however, he pulled away and I watched as both our breathes became visible in the chilly air. "Go inside, before you catch a cold or something."

I sighed quietly, watching as the little breath swirled around between us. "Fine. Drive safe, please."

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Ben."

He gave me one last peck, reminded me that Noah was to accompany me to all my classes the next day, and jogged down the porch steps to his car. Ten seconds later and I was watching his taillights as the turned out my driveway. With another sigh, I went inside and to my bedroom to get ready for bed. I crawled under my covers, hoping that I'd get a little sleep that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday rolled in with heavy, gray clouds and a neverending shower of rain. It had begun as a light drizzle when Noah and I had left for school, and by the time we pulled into the parking lot, it was coming down steadily. By the end of the school day, while Noah and I were driving from the school, the rain began to pour down. Noah muttered a string of curses as he turned the windshield wipers to high.

"This is bullshit. It has been the rainiest year. I'm tired of it." He was practically pouting. "Do we really have to go to the grocery store in this shit?"

"Yes, we really do. We also have to stop at Starbucks afterward."

"Why? Why can't you just make coffee at home? I've seen you do it before. Why can't you do it today?"

"Because we're not going to Starbucks for coffee. We're going for cake pops."

"What the ever loving fuck is a cake pop?"

I stifled a giggle. Noah really was upset about the weather and his irritation with it seemed to be spreading out to other things. Like cake pops. "It's a little ball of cake on a stick. Like a lollipop."

"I'm almost a hundred percent sure that Maya could make a cake ball on a stick. Ask her to do it." He pulled into Wal-Mart's parking lot and began cruising down the aisles, trying to find a decent parking space.

"No. I gave her the night off."

Noah turned to gape at me. "Why the hell did you do that?!"

"Because she's refused to take a day off since my mother left? She needs it." I pointed to parking space near the doors of the store and smiled in amusement as Noah cut somebody off to get to it. He really didn't want to be out in the rain any longer than he had to. The car he'd cut off whipped past behind us, leaning on their horn.

"What am I supposed to eat?"

I paused in the act of opening my door to turn and stare at him. I shifted my eyes back and forth, between him and the grocery store. "Seriously?"

"I don't know how to cook." He said it defensively, like I would make fun of him for it.
I eyed him, trying to hide any hint of amusement. "And you're how old? How have you survived being an adult?"

"Take out."

"So order take out. We'll probably end up ordering pizza later anyway."

"Then why are we here?!" He shouted it at me as we exited the car and made our way across the short expanse of parking lot.

"Junk." I let the word slip out of my mouth on a sigh.

"Jeez, kiddo. Take it easy over there."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Maya never lets me have junk food. Did you know she doesn't even put real sugar in her cookies and brownies and stuff?"

"But they taste good. Really good. Nothing can taste as good as her food and still be healthy."

"Oh it is, trust me. She's just an amazing cook." I grabbed a basket as soon as we entered the store and rolled it in front of me. I knew exactly what aisles I needed to go down and made a beeline for the first one. "Anyway, let's get a move on. I have to be at the house by six, or everyone will get pissed at me."

"Fine, fine." Noah fell into step next to me.

I headed down the aisle with crackers and cookies and began tossing anything that looked good and unhealthy in the basket. Cheese crackers, Ritz, cheese in a can, Oreos, chocolate chip cookies and least five or six packages of other various things all made their way into my shopping cart.

I ignored the expressions of surprise and protest that fell from Noah's lips as I tossed in the junk food. "Can it, Kalebrow."

"You guys can't eat all of that." He said it definitely, like he expected no argument and I grinned at him.

"We're four teenagers. Two are male. Of course we can eat all of this, and more." I left the aisle we were on for the next one and started pulling bags of chips from the shelves, to the sound of more protests from Noah. I agonized briefly over chips and salsa, decided I didn't want it in my bed, and moved on to the next aisle. Candy.

Here, I didn't deliberate too much about the choices. I just grabbed and tossed. It didn't really matter what it was; someone would eat it. By the time I was done, the basket was practically full. I moved on the the next aisle and paused, agonizing over yet another choice.

"What?" Noah asked, leaning around me to peer down the aisle. "Don't tell me there are too many choices of pop for you?"

"Hm?" I blinked at him. "Oh, no. I'm just trying to decide if getting 2 liters or cans would best. I'm pretty sure cups of pop would be a lot easier to spill. Right?"

"Why don't you just get bottles? The little ones. You can put the caps back on."

"You're a genuis. I don't know why I didn't think about that." With that, I began walking down the aisle, pulling six packs of bottled pop from the shelves. They all had to go on the little rack underneath the basket, but I managed to get all the ones I knew we'd drink.

"Are we done? You haven't left a box, bag, or bottle of junk in the store. We're done, right?" Noah sounded almost desperate and he was shooting glares at the people around us. They paid no attention to him; instead, they all stared in horrified shock at my basket. I just smiled back at them.

"No, we're not done. Movies." I didn't give him time to respond, just pushed the basket ahead of me and left the aisle to head to the electronics section, where the DVDs were located. I turned down the aisle marked 'HORROR' and started grabbing movies almost at random. The only thing I considered was how awful the covers looked; the more ridiculous a horror movie was the better they were to make fun of, though I did pick out several that looked like they had great potential in scaring somebody shitless. By the time I was halfway down the aisle, Noah had joined me and began making his own contributions.

"No, wait! We already have that one." I flung a hand out to block the DVD he'd already tossed from falling into the basket. My hand connected with the plastic box and knocked it over into the next aisle. A very distinct thud was heard, followed immediately by a 'what the fuck', before we heard the sound of plastic hitting the tiled floor. I let out a small squeal and grabbed the handle of the basket before hissing at Noah, "We're done. I'm done. Let's go!"

We rushed from the aisle, towards the checkouts at the front of the store, without looking back once. I turned into a random checkout lane, which held only two people: one customer and one Wal-Mart employee. I set a divider down, to keep mine and the other customer's things separated, and began piling the stuff from my basket on the conveyer belt. Not even half the junk in the basket fit on the belt.

It took another thirty minutes in the checkout before Noah and I were able to push the bag laden basket outside. Noah was momentarily distracted from the rain as he clutched the receipt in his hands. One-hundred, eighty-seven dollars and sixty-five cents! In nothing but junk and bad horror movies!"

"I can afford it."

"That's almost two-hundred dollars, kiddo. Two-hundred." He muttered about it as we reached his car and began unloading the bags into his trunk.

"I am aware of that, Noah. It's fine. I pay you more than two times that everyday." I reminded him, dropping the last bag in the trunk. "Well, Sinclair Co. does anyway. By the way, you are getting your checks on time, right?"

He slammed the trunk shut and we both got into the car before he answered me. "Mostly."

I paused in the act of clicking my seatbelt into place to stare at him. "What do you mean, mostly? You're either getting them on time or you're not."

Noah eyed me like I was something odd, before turning away and starting the car. "They're a day late or so, usually."

"What? No, that's not right. I told my mother that I wanted Uncle Allen writing out those checks himself. He's never late with anything."

"Who's Uncle Allen?"

"Allen Hawley, acting president of Sinclair Co., until I turn twenty-two and have the proper training."

"I thought you people were Airlines. You know, Sinclair Air?"

"That's our main thing, yeah. But over the years, we've dipped into quite a few other things. The official name change was just about six months ago, actually." I realized that this was the first time I'd even thought of the company that I would one day be running in quite some time. Under the circumstances, it was understandable, however. I turned my gaze on Noah as he put the car in drive and made quick work of exiting the Wal-Mart parking lot. "Anyway, that's not what we were talking about. Have your checks really been late? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's not a big deal."

"Yes, it is. Sinclair prides themselves on the excellent treatment of their employees. Technically, you are my employee and if you're not getting your checks on time, it's a problem. A problem that needs to be rectified immediately." I stared glumly out the window as Noah pulled into Starbucks. "I'll have to make a trip to see Uncle Allen tomorrow. Damn it."

"You're going to make a really good president." Noah said nonchalantly, easing into the line of three cars waiting for the drive-thru.

"Why do you say that?" I blinked at him, surprised. That, coming from the man who always called me 'kiddo'?

"You've got that exasperated businessman voice down pat. A few business courses and you'll be set." He turned his head to grin at me.

I stared at him for a few seconds before I snorted and turned away. "And here I was, thinking you'd say something profound and nice."

"Kiddo, when am I ever nice?"

"You've got a point. I'd love to talk about all the times you've ever been a dick, but it's our turn and you need to order a couple dozen tiramisu cake pops."

"Jesus."