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bastards. They earn money off of death. Gutter rats are victims. They have pain. Problems. Issues. They may choose Heam, but they don’t always pick their path. Sometimes it’s forced on them. Sometimes they just don’t know any better.”
    She studies me, finally deciding that her disagreement isn’t worth the fight. “I suppose,” she says. “I never thought about it that way.”
    I turn and walk off. I’ve got English next period and I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.
    “Hey!” Paige just won’t leave me alone.
    I keep walking.
    “Hey, hold up.” She runs up and falls into step with me. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I really didn’t mean to offend you. You’re Faye, right?”
    I nod, surprised she knows my name.
    “Thanks, really,” she continues. “I’m having a party Friday night. Would you like to come? I can introduce you around to a few people. It’ll be fun.”
    “I’m busy,” I say. Parties? The school would have a fit. Technically there is no rule about who I hang out with in my free time, but I’m sure that would change if I ever started. Besides, what on earth would I do? I may have the body of a teenager, but my mind is old. How would I talk to any of them? I’ve already proven, in the past five minutes, that I can’t even hold a conversation without becoming hostile. Could I really sit for an evening talking about boys and clothing?
    Not a chance.
    “Okay, well, think about it,” Paige says. She writes something down on her notebook as we walk, impressive considering she can barely keep up with me. Tearing the sheet loose, she shoves it into my hands. An address and phone number.
    She’s not going to take no for an answer. I can see the problem already forming.
    She stops at her classroom. Mine is just a few doors down. The bell rings and I start running.
    “See you,” she calls back.
    I should throw the address out. I have no business keeping it. But I find myself slipping it into the pocket of my skirt for safekeeping.
    It might be nice. Being normal.

    The rest of the day goes by quickly. I always eat alone at lunch but it doesn’t take long before I notice Paige sitting a few tables down. She’s with a group of her friends and they’re all looking at me intently. Especially her boyfriend, Jesse, the one who apparently owes the greasy Trevor money. Of course she told them. Suddenly I feel like there’s a great big red flag flying over my head.
    But the teachers don’t notice. No one pulls me into the office to ream me out.
    Jesse goes out of his way to walk past me at the table. I look down at my book, making it obvious I have no intentions of talking with him. He slows down, even pauses for a second to take a better look. I continue to ignore him. Finally, he walks off, but not before caressing his hand gently across my shoulder. A quick move, probably missed by everyone except me.
    What does he want from me?
    After class I head home. If I’m quick enough, I can put in a few hours of training before homework and dinner.
    I need to stick to what I’m good at. Focus. Everything else is just another distraction.

    The silver liquid touches my tongue and I’m happy that it tastes like strawberry candy. Such a perfect flavor, I wish there were more of it. Like a glass of soda. I’m very thirsty from all that crying.
    The men around me are laughing. One of them bends down until he’s inches away from my face. His eyes are beady and dark. I don’t like them. When he smiles, I see his teeth, white, behind his stubble. But there’s nothing happy about him; his eyes don’t sparkle, and they remain dead and cold. It makes me nervous and I begin to sniffle again.
    “Your daddy was a bad boy,” he says to me. “And since he doesn’t have any money, we take our cut out of blood instead.”
    “Hey, leave her alone,” someone else says. I think it’s Christian but I’m not fully sure about anything anymore.
    The man grins again. His teeth are very white. I