Alice Holt was a good girl. She wasn't what you would call a 'goody-two-shoes', but she liked to do what she was told most of the time. There were some circumstances where she couldn't help herself— like all the times she'd sneak out of the house for parties or have secret sleepovers with Chris on school nights.

But when she did sneak out to a party, she never drank too much. The thought of drinking never crossed her mind. At a young age, Alice had seen what alcohol could do to someone and since then never wanted to have a taste for herself. However, Chris liked to drink at parties and Alice would often find herself taking care of her on those nights. She'd never complain about it, knowing Chris would've done the same.

Throughout her entire life at school, Alice was never in a situation where her parents were called in to have a disciplinary discussion with the principal. But that very fact was about to change today.

"You punched him?"

Alice sat still on the chair across her father, afraid any sudden movements would end her life. She jumped in her seat as his fists slammed onto the table, muttering to himself in disappointment. He obviously never imagined he'd ever receive a phone call from school hearing his daughter had punched another student in the nose.

"He's fine," Alice wanted to say, "He deserved it. His nose isn't broken or anything, he's perfectly fine."

"I'm sorry," was what she managed, "I didn't mean to— I just wasn't myself today."

She wasn't lying. Even she surprised herself when she threw her fist in his direction. Alice usually liked to say there were different ways to manage these kinds of situations, but she'd just been so angry that time. After dedicating hours and hours of hard work after school, she was going to feel some kind of uncontrollable anger without a doubt.

It was like all those hours had gone to waste. All those mornings she could've slept in, all those nights she could've tucked herself in early. She'd spent almost all her spare time on creating something so special— it was causing her great pain even just thinking about it.

"And Chet Danbury of all people," he cursed to himself, pinching his nose bridge in the attempt to calm himself down.

Alice's father didn't seem to understand how much the portrait really meant to her. Of course, he wouldn't— he'd been the one who forced her out of it in the first place. He didn't even know Chet personally, but rather had a greater amount of respect for his family. Especially Chet's father. The Danbury's were well known to the Holt family for quite a few years— their fathers used to attend the same university and have remained good acquaintances since. Alice could only imagine the amount of apologies he'd make to the Danbury's, the amount of dinners and holiday gifts he'd offer them as compensation.

But the fact that Alice's own father couldn't side with her or defend her this time pained her. He couldn't even at least try to understand.

"No more phone calls," he warned, raising his voice, "No more silly outings with Chris after school. You come home straight after the bell rings. I've given you too much freedom, Alice. It's time you grew up."

* * *

"Wow," Chris raised the broken portrait to eye level, running her finger over the ripped canvas, "The nerve of that guy."

Alice rested her head on the desk, shaking her head in disbelief. She didn't think she'd ever regret punching the football player— it's something she'd been joking about since the beginning of time. But now that it actually happened this time, Alice wasn't feeling so good about it.

"Look, he was begging for that to happen to him," Adrienne said, putting a hand on Alice's shoulder, "Besides, he made worse damage to your work. So, I say it's fair."

Alice slowly nodded her head in agreement, appreciating the way her friends tried to convince her she had no reason to feel so guilty. But it was much more than that— Alice wasn't prepared to spend the next six months under her father's strict watch. She knew she couldn't survive another night at home without her phone calls or after school outings with Chris. It was somewhat therapeutic and distracting, in a positive way. And if it meant no more shopping after school, it also meant . . .

"No more seeing Neil, then?"

Alice shrugged her shoulders, "I still want to think of that as a possibility. Along with everything else— all of it just seems unreasonable, but you know my dad. I'll have to prove myself trustworthy before pulling anything like that."

"You know what?" Jessica hopped off the desk, her smile widening as she approached Alice, "This whole 'banned-from-having-any-sorts-of-fun' kind of thing your dad is forcing onto you means one thing: you have all the time in the world to work on that super special artwork again."

Alice smiled. Perhaps it wasn't too late to start again.

"Not that it won't be fun," Jessica added, "But at least you could make good use of your spare time now."

She was right. Alice hoped that this whole situation wasn't some kind of fallback— perhaps, the portrait would turn out to be even greater this time. Alice did have to admit, she was convinced she could do a little better with the painting. And suddenly, this situation didn't seem so bad after all.

"We should get you home before it gets too late," Adrienne teased, pointing at the clock that read twenty minutes past three o'clock.

"Let's walk you home! Everyday, if we can," Chris suggested, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm, "It should be enough to make up for the time we'll be spending apart for the next few months."

"Now that's a little overdramatic, Chris." Alice laughed, rolling her eyes. She promised herself she'd find a way to change all of this. She felt that school wasn't the only place she'd be able to see Chris. And somehow, a part of her knew for sure that she'd see Neil again.