"So I'll fly away."

-Pills, Joji

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The dining hall is split into three very distinct parts. Sky notices my wandering gaze, taking in each face, and explains after we get our food, "There are three groups at Redwood." She points at one of the groups, boys and girls, some older and some younger, covered in tattoos and piercings and there's an abundance of leather jackets. One of the girls is carving her name into a table with a Swiss Army knife and two of the boys are fighting while the others watch, cheering. "The Fighters. Keep as far away as possible, unless you're into nipple piercings and breaking the speed limit, then go right ahead."

"I'll pass," I murmur as one of the boys who was fighting is slammed into the table by the other and doesn't get up.

She motions to another group, which are significantly calmer, a deceiving calmness. They're mostly dressed in expensive clothes with blazers and ties or designer jackets and £500 sneakers. "The Socios. Like, sociopaths. Super rich kids who ended up setting their house on fire because their parents didn't buy them a Mercedes or stabbing their teacher for failing them. But they don't feel bad about it, that's the weird part. They just sit there with shiny hair and fancy clothes, reminiscing about the good old days when they turned their pet cat into a rug."

I raise an eyebrow as she starts walking again. "Someone really did that?"

"I told you, proper sociopaths," Sky says, holding her sandwich in one hand and doing a circular motion with her index finger beside her ear with her other hand.

While I gaze at the faces of The Socios, an attractive boy with golden hair and bright blue eyes winks at me, a grin stretching on his lips.

I blush and turn away, walking quicker to catch up with Sky.

"So where do you fit?" I ask as she leads us to the third group.

"Group number three: The Wallflowers."

"Wallflowers?"

"These kids get treated specially, separate therapy, separate everything. Helps bring them back to the world," she explains sadly as I notice one girl drawing an intricate flower design up her arm with blue pen. "The Socios and Fighters are here so they don't go to jail, to help change them into better people. The Wallflowers aren't here to be changed, they're here to be cared for. Kids with depression and anxiety who sit and watch everyone else. Mental health cases like attempted suicide or schizophrenia."

You'll fit in great here.

I resist the urge to tell the voice to shut up; I really don't want Sky thinking I'm as crazy as a lot of people here already are.

The boys and girls at this section of the cafeteria are quiet. They don't fight or cheer, and most of them barely speak at all. Some stare lifelessly at their food and others rest their heads on the table with their hoods pulled up.

I stare at one girl sitting by herself nearby, tapping her fingers rhythmically on the table like an invisible piano is sat there. Up her arm are dozens of red scars, most a faded red colour. She looks at me, smiles, and continues to play on her invisible piano.

"It's better for them to be here than a normal high school. The education system needs to learn how to help kids like this- properly. But this place is special. It treats kids like people. It doesn't treat them like they're crazy or that there's something wrong with them, and that's why I love it so much," Sky says.

She takes a seat on a bench around a circular table, patting the space beside her. I hesitate, examining each of the other faces. They're all about my age, and the boys and girls on this table are speaking. In fact, a few of them are laughing. There are two boys, one with long blonde hair and the other with wild brown hair. The blonde one watches Sky as she picks at her sandwich, while the other laughs at a joke one of the girls says. There are two girls besides Sky. One is extremely skinny, her cheekbones popping through her cheeks, and her hair is black and slightly wiry. The other has pretty brown hair and freckles along her nose, resembling the boy with brown hair.

When I cautiously sit down, they all turn to look at me, making me feel extremely awkward, which is a specialty of mine.

"Guys, this is Olivia. She's new, and from what I can see, she's not a psychopath," Sky introduces, smiling comfortingly towards me.

If only she knew.

The boy with the brown hair grins and says, "I'm Thomas. This here is Daniel," he juts his thumb at the blonde boy, "and it's nice to meet you."

"Wow, you're never that polite to me," the girl with the brown hair says with raised eyebrows.

"That's because you're my sister," Thomas says like it should have been obvious.

"No, it's because you think she's pretty," his sister says with an eye roll.

I look down at my hands, my cheeks burning, and when I look up, Thomas's cheeks are burning just as hard. He throws a piece of bread at his sister, with which she dodges.

While this is going on, the skinny girl with black hair turns to me. "That's Thomas's twin sister, Jessica. I'm Louise."

"It's nice to meet you," I say genuinely, glad fate has led me to people who don't look like the sort to turn their cat into a rug. I notice how she has barely touched her food, but when she meets Sky's warm gaze, she nods her head an inch and begins to eat.

"So, what are you in for?" Thomas asks, leaning forward in his seat.

I awkwardly stare at my hands on my lap and chew on the inside of my cheek. Jessica smacks her brother on the arm, and scolds, "Thomas! Do you understand how rude you're being right now?"

I smile and shake my head. "No, it's okay."

"Well, it can't be much worse than what me and Jess are here for," Thomas says, winking at his sister.

She rolls her eyes as I turn to her expectantly, and replies bluntly, "Long story short: our mom died of cancer and we tried to joint-suicide because our stepdad hated us and wanted to dump us into foster care. Then we didn't die and realised that we wanted to live, but the police knew what we'd done and sent us here."

"Wow, that's...um..." I drift off, because how can anyone really respond to that?

"Yeah, tragic," Jess says, rolling her eyes again and smirking. "So, is it as bad as that?"

I press my lips together. "Worse."

"I doubt it," Thomas says, while the others lean in expectantly.

"You can only imagine," I mutter.

Changing the subject, Louise says, "So, Daniel, I heard you asked out Tiffany Martin, how's that going?"

I flash her a grateful look as Daniel's face burns bright red, Sky glancing at him uncertainly. He waves his hands to dismiss the idea completely, and shakes his head quickly. "No I'm not!" His eyes don't leave Sky's. "That did not happen, I swear! I don't even like Tiffany, I heard she spiked her teacher's water in a sick murder attempt! And have you seen her throw knives at tree trunks at night? Because I have!"

Sky raises an eyebrow, a smirk hinting at her pink lips from his fluster. "So you know what she does at night?"

His cheeks burn even redder, his eyes widening. "No!"

And as he continues to explain himself to Sky while the others stifle chuckles, I glance behind me to the Socios.

My eyes are met by those alluring blue ones belonging to the boy who winked at me earlier. And he grins a tempting grin, daring me to turn away.