“Dad?” I call his name without looking at him. My eyes scans the empty road for anything suspicious.

“Yes, Sweetie,” He answers.

“Did you hear someone call me now?” I ask, taking my eyes off the road to look at my Dad, he’s screwing some bolt.

“No.” He shakes his head without taking his face off what he’s doing.

No?

I could have swore I heard my name. Someone... A masculine voice just called Camille. Am I hearing things now? I don't think so. I think this shit has gone long enough. What the fuck is going is going on with me? I cannot believe this is happening, first the dreams and now hearing a voice in my head. Before now I would just zero it as hallucinations but I refuse to admit that I'm going crazy. It's like my mind is playing tricks on me.

I push the thought off my mind and spend the next minutes helping my Dad change the tire. We load on and continue our journey home. The entire ride home is silent. Dad’s humming to the song playing on the radio, while Mom keeps sighing, Only God knows what’s going on in her head but I know the thoughts playing in her head isn’t quiet. I can feel her rage from where I'm sitting.

Dad turns off the ignition after parking the car in front of our humble homey bungalow, I grab my backpack and open the door before anyone can stop me and run into the house, not stopping until I reach my room. I know what happens next. Mom and Dad are going to finish the conversation she started on the road. I press my ear against the door and count in my head.

And in Five... Four... Three... Two…

“What do you mean, take it easy, Richard?!” I hear her yell at Dad. She can never be quiet. Our next-door neighbor is always knocking on our door to tell us to keep it down.

“What do you mean by telling her about that boarding school, Corinne?”

Dad’s obviously upset, but his voice isn’t as audible as Mom’s. I hate it when they argue about me, and they do it every single day because she never approves of anything I do, she’s always complaining.

I can only imagine her throwing her perfectly manicured finger around.

“I wasn’t joking. If she tries anything silly, that is exactly where she’ll be spending the rest of her life.” She sounds determined.

The rest of my life?

She's clearly got some sense of humor since I last saw her. What the hell? My mother is obviously out of her goddamn mind. It’s not as if I don’t love her or she doesn’t love me. She loves me more than life itself, or so she tells me when she is in a good mood. But She is too controlling, which is the reason I can’t tolerate her. She expects everything to be the way she wants, I blame that on her OCD but living by her rules and everything she wants is just too suffocating as my mind isn't killing me enough. One thing I detest most in this world is having someone dictate how I live my life and that's exactly what she's been doing since they adopted me when I was five.

I don't remember what my life was like before they took me in but Mom has always been honest about my adoption. Out of all the kids they chose me, why they did I have no idea. Sometimes when she reminds me she means it in a good way but other times it as if she regret choosing me, she would always say, "I know my real daughter would never trouble me like this. This is what you get for choosing a kid that isn't your flesh and blood."

Of course dad would run to my rescue and tell her to take it back, but I've always knew where I stand with her. Her thirst to be on top of the everyone drives me to be the rebel I am today.

“You can’t be serious, Corinne, she’s sixteen-” She cuts dad off.

“Of course she is sixteen. How many sixteen-year-olds do you know behave like Camille?”

Not much. I’m pretty handful and that what makes me so special.

“What's your point?” Dad replies with his own question.

“She is a troublemaker. Do you know how many times they've called me to her school just this month?” She asks in a cool tone, almost like she’s trying to calm herself. I press my ear further against the door to hear her clearly. “Sixteen times! Sixteen fucking times, Richard! Do you know how many times they have called me to bail her out of-”

I have never heard my mom curse, and she gives me an earful speech when I do. I guess I've given her a reason to.

“You’ve made your point, which doesn’t improve your argument about abandoning her at a boarding school, especially THE VALE...”

I stop listening when I hear the name of the school. I didn’t think about it when she first said it, but hearing her say it again got me thinking.

The Vale is like a reformed school for troubled kids. I have heard rumors about the school. I have never actually been there or seen the place, but according to what I heard, the school hides in the woods. Some say the place is an Asylum. And my Mother wants to send me there. There is no way in hell I'm going. I can't trade a prison from another.

Boarding school means uniform and rules. My least favorite words.

I can't deal with this shit right now. I need a distraction and I know just where to find it. Leaning away from the door, I dip my hand inside my pocket to take my phone. I swipe it unlock, the group messaging page lights up the screen. I didn't want to go, but now I’m crashing it.

: On my way rn.

: Cnt wait 2 see u bitch...

A smile covers my face as I lock the phone and return it to my pocket. I stare at my closed door and try to tune out the conversation but mom's voice is just too loud to be ignored.

"She is not even our daughter!"

That hurts more than it should. I'm used to her saying shit like this when she's angry and I try to shrug it off because it's true I'm not their daughter, but I've been hearing her say that all my life it never really bothered me but sometimes when you've been constantly ignoring negative things about you, a time would come when you just let your guard and begin to believe what they say, in my case the realization is hitting me now. No matter what I do, I can never be one of them. I shouldn't be feeling like this because it's my actions that led to this but I can't stop thinking about how true what she said sounds.

"Screw this shit." I mutter and turn the key hanging on my doorknob.

I head straight for the window. This isn’t my first time sneaking out, but there’s a problem. The dining room is directly below me, and chances of them seeing me if I jump is pretty tight. I’m going to do it, anyway.

I open the window and stare below. I climb on the couch pressing against the window, and jump. I close my eyes as I flump on the ground. “Fucking shit!” I groan and a metallic taste fills my mouth. Shit! I bit my tongue.

Getting up from the ground, I dust my jeans. The steel boot made the landing difficult. I don’t think my ankles are fine. I adjust my backpack and peep to see Mom still going hot. I don't need this now.

Cycling to Jessica's house isn't something I do often because her house is at the other side of the town but I'm going to do it because I need to clear my head.

I look around the backyard for my bicycle and see it laying on the ground beside the white picket fence. "Ah ha!" I've never been more happy to see it.

Glancing at Mom and Dad for the last time before grabbing my bicycle and ride it out before they notice the activity going outside.

****

Party at Jessica's house on any day is always loud, crazy and lite. Police busted the last party we had and it didn't stop her from throwing another one. This is more better and louder than the last one. Her father is the richest dude in the town. Everyone knows who Jessica Cruz-William is and she is fucking untouchable. Their house is also the largest, which isn't a surprise. Her father owns the town and do I take advantage of my rich friend? Hells yeah and it's fucking good.

I slip into the house without any of my friends seeing me. I'm not actually here for the party, I just need something to take my mind off mom's word and no matter how hard I try, it's still ringing in my head like a raging migraine.

Finding myself a quiet corner in their main kitchen where I know no one enters except their maids. I take off my backpack and drop it on floor beside me. I open it and take out my notepad and pencil. I open the first page of the notepad and stare at the drawings there.

My dreams has always been there for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I remember the whole when I wake and other times it's just some little details. I started sketching down the details of my dream when I was seven. I try to find anything that matches all of them but there's only one that's common. Nobody knows I do this and I prefer it like that, it'll save me hours of meaningless explanations.

The only thing I can remember from today dream is the man's face and the symbol on the lighter. I wasn't really concentrating on the lighter but I saw his eyes. So I begin to sketch out the details including the dark color of his eyes.

Minutes into sketching the lighter after the eyes is done, I hear someone clear throat in front of me. I quickly shut my notepad before looking up to see Jessica glaring down at me. She's found me.

"What are you doing hiding in here?" She demands, doesn't do anything to hide the irritation in her tone.

"Who says I'm hiding?" I play dumb as I return my notepad and pencil inside my backpack.

"Better." She offers me hand and adds, "the party is boring without you."

She probably the only one looking for me. After what happened today I realized that I might have been quick to call them my best friends. Some friends they are. They didn't even call to check if I was okay after getting arrested but of course Jessica cares about me hiding in the kitchen than me spending the day in jail. I want to tell her how I feel about what happened today but I just shrug it off. I can't change people. I know who my friends are and I know who I am or at least I think I do.

I take her hand while the other hand grab my backpack, she pulls me up and gives me a real smile. Jessica fake smile a lot, so having her smile at me just erase part of the anger I feel for her.

"Your booze await you." She reminds me and begin to walk out of the kitchen, just before we can step into the hallway she stops walking and look at me. "What you were drawing earlier..." She trails off before adding, "I didn't know you could draw."

I shrug. "I like to keep some part of my life to myself." I tell her and walk away.

The party is always at the game room because no one loves to bet than horny rich teenagers with nothing to lose. To my surprise, the party isn't holding at the game room this time, it's inside the gigantic living room. People begin to notice my presence the moment I step inside.

“Cami, truth or dare?” April asks. No greetings or anything, she went straight for my throat. This is what I hate about parties. Everyone here behaves like adults, but I can see under those stupid bad boy girl shit.

“Why even ask? We know she will choose —” Eric starts.

“Dare,” I say, surprising them and myself. I rarely play, and if I decide to play, I just play stealth. I prefer to kick some ass at pool or make some Mama's boy cry at poker when I win all their money.

“Hmm... Cami, I dare you to… take a shot of vodka,” Eric says, smiling.

That motherfucker, he knows I don’t drink on weeknights because of my Mom, she can smell my shit from miles.

“I don’t drink on school nights.” I shake my head.

He rolls his eyes before telling me what I know. “That’s the point of the dare. And do you need me to remind you, you are at a party on a school night? And you got suspended.”

Right. He makes a good point. Why can't I just be friends with a nerdy people that doesn't party?

My eyes scans the people around the Coca-Cola bottle pointing at April. They are staring at me, waiting for my reply. I never back down from a dare and I won't start now. It's just a drink, it can't hurt.

“Fine, one shot,” I agree. I think everyone will probably have yet another contemptuous expression on this. I have never been the one to hesitate to do a dare.

The hair behind my neck stands as goosebumps erupt all over my body. Someone is watching me. I look around but stop when his eyes meet mine, I expect to see someone I know giving me a curious look because of the dare but this one is giving me a strange look instead.

He doesn't look familiar. And I find the way he's looking at me, watching my every move somehow. I can feel him judging me under those intense stare. I hate it.

I look away from him and step inside the stupid circle they made, deliberately kicking the spinning bottle. Few people murmurs but I don't pay attention as someone hands me the bottle of vodka. I try not to think of all the mouths that have been on the bottle before me, and I just tilt it back and take a drink. The familiar taste of vodka feels hot and burns as it goes to my throat, but I swallow it. It tastes horrible. The group claps and laughs everyone except the stranger. I don't mind the laugher but I'm curious about the stranger.

Different people comes to Jessica's party every time and I've never given a single fuck about it. But him... He's got the mysterious vibe and I'm a curious bitch.

My eyes roam the tall brown-haired boy leaning against the wall, gawking at me. His hair is pushed back off his forehead, forming a spike. My eyes focus on his body, from his black T-shirt to his arms, which are also covered in tattoos. I’m a sucker for tats, but this is nothing like I've seen before. I know it is his body and am not judging the weird and ridiculous symbol drawing on his arm. He’s tall, lean, and I know that I’m staring at him in the most impolite way. Well, he is also staring at me indecently. So we’re even.

“Cami!” Jessica’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

I glare at her. “What?”

She rolls her eyes; She knows me better than that. “Truth or Dare?”

Really? I could have sworn I just had my turn.

“Dare.”

****

I hang around the party until the alarm on my phone reminds me it’s time to go home. My curfew is ten, and it’s way past eleven. How did the time fly?

I am drunk and definitely waking up with one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning. Thanks to Xander, who gives me a ride. I ask him to drop me off three houses from ours. I don’t want to be seen.

And I still don’t know the pretty boy’s name. He disappears right before the chugging begins.

I close the window quietly and carefully. Any sound wakes Mom, if she is not already awake.

“God! That was close.” I murmur. Mrs. Johnson should find something to do with her dog, or I will. That creature almost got me caught.

I sigh and sit on the couch, ready to pass out there, when suddenly I hear the switch flick. Light fills the room and I hear Mom say, 'let there be light." I think that kill me a little.

Mom is sitting comfortably on my reading chair, arm crossed above her chest, just waiting for me.

There is no explaining my way out of this. I reek of alcohol and my breath smell like a fucking brewery.

“What did I tell you about this not repeating itself?” She asks and smirks.

God! She wasn’t kidding. I am definitely going to The Vale.