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to sleep on, and chuck it at Marcus, hitting him in the head.

“The fact that you watched me sleep is creepy as fuck Marcus!” I leap up from the couch, righting my Metallica t-shirt that twisted in sleep, and ignore the deep laughter filling the room.

Storming out, I head to the kitchen to boil the kettle. Over the last week, I have discovered coffee, and now I crave it. Who needs food when you have coffee in your life?

Marcus lets out a long, drawn-out yawn and follows me, going to the fridge. His black sweatpants and grey hoodie are a little creased, but with his bird's nest hair, it all ties together.

“How is the fridge full? Did you go to the shops when you got back?”

“Supermarket delivery. I didn’t even have to set foot outside my house.” I hold a mug up to Marcus, “Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” he nods, “You want me to cook some eggs?”

“You cook?”

Marcus straightens from the fridge, grinning, “I’m not just a pretty face. I can do shit.”

Jesus, he’s like his cousin. Well, kind of. They look different, but you can tell they are related. They are apparently the same smug arseholes, though. How did I not pick up on that when I was getting to know Ayden? What am I thinking? I hardly know Ayden. I was in his life for not even two weeks before he kicked me out of it.

“Sure, knock yourself out. But you clean what you dirty. I hate doing dishes.” I turn away from him and fix his coffee.

“Yes, ma'am.”

While Marcus cooks, I sit at the kitchen bench and watch. I’ve missed having him around over the last few years. I mean, he’s still been around, but not in the same way. It’s never just the two of us shooting the shit anymore.

“Are you going to school today?” I ask. It’s only 7:30, so he has plenty of time to get there for the last day of school for the week.

“Yep. I have a Math assessment today, so I can’t ditch.” He looks up from the pan where he’s scrambling eggs on the stove. “When are you coming back to school?”

School. Not a place I want to be at, but I know I have to return. I reluctantly called them on Monday, thinking I would have to speak to that useless piece of shit Principal Reynolds, but he wasn’t there. Instead, my call was put through to the new Acting Principal Rogan.

Cynthia Rogan definitely took me by surprise. She doesn’t sound like the typical catholic principal. This lady openly swore down the line and confessed that the old principal was the scum of the earth who needs to be locked up with paedophiles and murderers.

I loved this woman instantly!

She knew who I was and what had happened to me when she got placed in the role after Miss Dice put in a formal complaint to the board of education and the police. The office ladies had told Miss Dice that Principal Ryland turned a blind eye and allowed my dad to drug me and basically kidnap me. I guess there are some decent people out there after all. At least Fox Pines Catholic College has a decent principal now.

“Ah, yeah, I’ll be back next week, I guess. Just waiting for this bruising to go away.”

Marcus turns the stove off and moves to stand in front of me on the other side of the bench.

“It’s still pretty bad. What if it’s not gone by next week?”

I shrug, “Then I go with a bruised face.”

Marcus is quiet for a moment, his eyes roaming my face, and something like guilt twists his expression. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner, Lex.”

I don’t like seeing the pain in his eyes as he stares at me. I also don’t like or want pity.

“I made sure no one noticed Marcus. Even Abbey didn’t notice.”

“Ayden did.”

I cringe, hearing his cousin’s name.

“New rule!” I slide down off the stool and rummage through the cupboards to get plates for our food. “No saying his name.”

“What? You don’t want me to say A-,”

“Ahhh!” I yell, causing Marcus to stop what he was about to say.

He frowns, “I can’t say my cousin's name?”

“Correct.” I place two plates on the bench trying to avoid Marcus’s eyes.

“Why?” He dishes up the eggs while I start on the toast.

“It doesn’t matter why. I just don’t need to hear his name right now.”

Marcus pauses briefly, watching me, probably trying to gauge if I’m being serious. He must get the hint because he keeps his mouth shut as we continue moving about the kitchen to finish making breakfast.

We eat silently. It’s not a comfortable silence like it was with Andrea, Ayden’s mum, when I was with her in Melbourne. I guess Marcus and I really do have some mending to do in our friendship. When he looks at me, he sees a girl with boobs. But when I look at him, all I see is the friend I grew up with.

After breakfast, I reluctantly go up to my room while Marcus does the dishes. Yes, I was serious about that. I hate doing dishes.

Since I don’t have anywhere to be today, I slip on my jeans and throw my SlipKnot hoodie on over my Metallica t-shirt that I slept in. I don’t care if I smell or look like shit; that’s the least of my problems. My hair gets thrown up in a careless, messy bun, and I slide my feet into my black Ugg boots. I don’t have anyone to impress.

I hate my room now. It’s a real struggle just to step inside it. The door is still missing, and everything in it reminds me of the night that Mike assaulted me. I’ve been sleeping, or at least trying to sleep, on the couch every night, and I use my mum’s bathroom downstairs. There’s no way I’ll be stepping foot inside the upstairs bathroom anytime soon, not after what happened with Mike. Most of my clothes are

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