She was gone. There was nothing they could do.

"Carly?" A man's voice.

A man that woke me up. Damn.

My head was throbbing.

All I could think was (and that hurt too, the thinking) Where am I? Why am I here, wherever I am? And who the hell is that waking me up? Then I remembered.

Of course. I got kicked out and I'm sleeping on the school steps. Very slummish of me. But it still doesn't explain who that is.. I couldn't open my eyes, my head and the light hurt too much. So I asked him.

Who are you and why are you waking me up, I asked, although it sounded more like a statement than a question.

"It's me, Mr. Jonas. Your music teacher?"

I let out a pain-laced groan that could only be interpreted as Mnnnuhhngh, and then spoke.

But whyyyy are you waking me uuuuup. Also a statement and not a question.

"Get up and come inside. Put your stuff in my office, and tell me the story."

He plopped down in his swivel chair behind his desk and pulled up another, gesturing fo rme to sit in it. He then folded his hands across his stomach and awaited my story. He needn't have bothered, it wasn't very long.

My sister gave me the boot.

Then he started asking questions.

"Permanently?" I rolled my eyes and gave him a look that screamed, DUH.

"Why? Did she give you a reason?" I shook my head.

She's a druggie prostitute.

"That's not very nice," he interrupted.

But it's true. What makes you think I know what goes on in her coked-up and oversexed mind?

I was getting more uncomfortable with every question. I didn't like talking about myself. More accurately, I didn't like talking.

"What happened to your parents? Why do you live with your sister?"

I cracked. The lump rose in my throat and I ran before he could see me cry. I kicked the black swivel chair out from under me and I ran as fast as I could to get away, so he couldn't see my vulnerability. If you're vulnerable and it shows, you die. I almost did once.

I didn't know why I couldn't just tell him that my parents died. I also didn't know why he didn't already know they were dead.

I got to my locker and slumped down till my head was buried into my knees and I was hugging myself. Bawling.

I heard footsteps. Oh hell. Mr. Jonas was probably coming to try and comfort me or something. I was mid-cry, and now more than ever I didn't want any visitors. I tried to hide it by wiping my face as quickly as I could.

Except he had already herad me sobbing. That didn't work.

"How about you and me take the day off. I'll call you in and get a substitute for myself. We'll go someplace, like breakfast or some other meal with my brothers."

That scared me. Brothers. They could, for all I knew, be freaky video game junkies who used their superhigh libido (from being alone too long) to take advatage of "damsels in distress." Girls like me. I had already had a sucky day life. It didn't need to get worse.

"Two of them are about your age, and one's 7. The ones your age are Joe and Nick Jonas... do you know them?" I nodded.

I didn't like them though. Joe was very cocky and a total player. Nick was just like me in that he was shy, but I think he was only like that for the girls. They loved it. All of them, except me. I never had time for guys, my sister was too high-maintenance. She got drunk and I had to help her. She got sore from having sex with all those guys and I always helped her. She passed out from her drugs and- guess who had to help her? Yeah, me.

So, like I said, no time for guys, because that sort of thing happened at least twice a week.

"And since we're the only ones here at this time of day, nobody will know that we were here and then ditched. Now go clean yourself up. Your clothes are kinda dirty..."

I looked down and he was right. I had like, mud stains on my sweats. I got up and he pulled his cell phone out. He started dialing some numbers and I realized when he said "Hey, Jim" that he was calling the principal. That was his name. "It's Kevin. I'm gonna need to take the day off, the boys have a stomach bug and I gotta take care of them... Okay... Yeah, they won't be in either... Thanks... Maybe I'll see you tomorrow."

He started dialing another number, but by then I wasn't too sure of what he was saying because I was going to get new clothes from Mr. Jonas' office. When I got there, I dug through my bags until I found my black lacy tanktop, my blue and green peasant skirt, and slim black zip-up hoodie. I went off to the bathroom to change, and when I was done, I put my thin wire-rimmed glasses back on and stood away from the mirrors and admired myself. Nope, something was missing. I tok the hair bands from off my wrist and put my hair in a high messy bun and let my medium-length bangs hang down. Now I look acceptable, I said to myself.

I left thebathroom to find Mr. Jonas again.

"The boys are awake. We should leave before someone sees us ditching. You look nice, by the way." He said that last part with a little hesitation.

He also said it with something else. It wasn't really lust, or even friendly. It was more like... paternal. Like I was his daughter or something, or he was my overprotective brother. I hadn't seen that look in like 4 years, since my parents died.

"Come on," he said. As I was making my epiphany, he had already gone ahead. I followed him, making no revelation of what I had just thought.