CLARY ADAMS DESPERATELY needed her own episode of 'What Not to Wear'. With a head of scraggly dishwater-brown hair and a faceful of cakey makeup, it was hard not to watch her cross the cafeteria. Her pink flowery dress and bleached blue-jeans would honestly make Stacey and Clinton scream.

Mia leaned over, her cheeks stuffed with lettuce, and hissed, "Look at her! Yellow sequined flowers. On jeans. And they aren't even on the pockets. Who does that?"

"I'm still trying to figure out how she managed to squeeze into them," Natalie snickered. She brushed a loose strand of golden hair from her flawless face and added, "I mean, just look at those love-handles!"

I lifted my bottled water to my lips, watching as Clary sat down at an empty table and unwrapped a brown paper bag. A small surge of guilt trickled through my veins —the feeling was pretty normal now. It also wasn't that hard to ignore.

"And here I thought jeans were supposed to look good on everybody," I said.

Laughter bubbled through the cafeteria air. Clary glanced back over her shoulder, her brown eyes filled with uncertainty. I seriously doubted that she could actually hear what we said, but it was pretty obvious that we were talking about her. Natalie's lips curled around a wicked grin. Mia took another bite of her salad and ran her fingers through her inky long bob, trying to keep her short hair out of her face. I shifted my gaze to the table, a smile plastered to my face.

Cue another wave of guilt crashing through me, twisting my stomach into knots.

That guilty feeling lingered. It festered inside my chest, almost like an angry swarm of bees. I started to wonder if I'd taken it too far. I mean, I honestly haven't really talked to Clary. I'm pretty certain that she's an incredibly nice person. Like 'volunteers-at-local-soup-kitchen' level nice.

But I can't help it. It's just so much easier to be mean.

Like I'm popular —it's literally my job.

I'm not as popular as Natalie. Natalie Johnson was my best friend and the current reigning 'it' girl of Paradise High. She rose to fame about a year ago when she dated our old quarterback, Noah Rose. And even now, after Noah had graduated and Natalie was considered a free woman, her status as queen bee remained intact.

It was a lot of pressure, but the job wasn't really that hard. All I had to do to keep my spot as Natalie's number two was make her laugh and criticize the world around us. And given my naturally sarcastic nature, it came pretty easy. Being mean was just an unfortunate side-effect.

When the laughter died out, we returned to our usual lunch activities. Mia munched on the rest of her salad, absently thumbing through Instagram on her phone. Natalie readjusted her false eyelashes, a neon green compact in hand. She'd already finished eating, her plastic tray pushed toward the other end of the table. I people-watched. It was one of my favorite hobbies. I never really ate lunch —Mom always made a huge breakfast, so I was never really hungry come lunchtime. I fiddled with my water-bottle and quietly watched a table nearby play with a deck of cards.

Natalie's compact clicked shut. Startled, I glanced toward her, just in time to see her bright blue eyes canvas the room, searching for another victim. She ran her fingers through her short, side-swept bangs, tucking them behind her ear. The rest of her long blond locks spilled in soft curls down her back, a waterfall of gold. She closer to me and nudged me with her elbow. "Ceia, don't look now," she said softly, her words making my whole body tense. "I think that the football players are talking about you. They keep looking over here."

My heart skipped a beat and then stopped dead inside my chest.

I lifted my bottled water to my lips again, allowing my gaze to travel toward the rowdy table in question. It was situated about two tables away from our own, overflowing with bulky bodies in bright emerald colored hoodies. One in particular caught my eye. Travis Wayne.

He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, his lips pulled back into a giant grin. Laughter burst past his lips, making his massive shoulders quake. His amber eyes sparkled. I internally swooned.

"Are you sure they're talking about me?" I whispered back to Natalie.

There wasn't an immediate answer. That sent alarms blaring through my head. Brows furrowed, I shot a nervous glance toward Natalie, only to realize that she'd completely vanished from her seat. I frowned and looked to Mia.

Mia smiled apologetically and gestured toward the football table. My lips pressed into a tight, wrinkled line when I spotted Natalie standing behind Travis. She leaned over him, her body pressing against his, and playfully tried to nab a french-fry from his plate.

A wave of irritation swallowed me whole.

I drowned the rest of my water. The plastic crunched within my hands and Mia jumped at the sound, almost dropping her fork. "Jeez, Ceia. Let the bottle breathe."

The lights above our heads flickered several times. Instantly, there was a weird pause in the endless chatter that filled the cafeteria —the entire room falling silent for a few seconds to glance a the lights. Then everything went back to normal.

I pulled the bottle away from my lips and eased my fingers open. Deep indents into the plastic and several cracks were revealed. A small wisp of white light danced in the reflection of the lights above, glimmering within the cracked plastic.

I blinked. The white light disappeared.

I heard Mia mutter something under her breath about 'overreacting'. She stood, brushing the crumbs from her yellow blouse, and blew at a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. "I'll be back in a bit," she told me, blowing me a quick kiss.

Heaving a small sigh, I leaned forward, my arms folded atop the table in front of me. I watched, a little glum, as Natalie squeezed in between Travis and another football player. Mia joined them, sandwiched between another pair of football players. The guys seemed pleased at the new additions, and I knew it wouldn't be long before Natalie and Mia had the table eating out of their perfectly manicured hands.

I placed my purse (well, it was more of a small backpack than a purse) on the table and propped my phone up against it. I put my headphones in and let a random YouTube video play. I just needed to get through the rest of lunch.

In Natalie's defense, I hadn't exactly told her that I thought Travis was some sort of ungodly beacon of teenage beauty. I'd hoped to actually talk to him first, maybe even woo him with my hilarious personality, and then reveal my mild crush.

Now it was too late.

A loud buzz rattled the table as a text flashed at the top of the screen. It made me jump in my seat and, weirdly enough, I noticed the lights flicker above my head again. I picked up my phone and pressed the home button. I swiped through my notifications until I spotted the message. It was from my dad.

"That's weird," I muttered under my breath. Confusion crawled through my body, mixed with an unusual icy chill. Dad never texted during school hours. Actually, he hardly texted me at all.

I pressed the message and the message thread expanded across the screen, revealing our usual one-sided conversations. I skimmed over the newest message, my eyebrows crinkled.

'Mom died. You need to come to the hospital now. Already called the school. Natalie can drive you."

The words danced across the screen, blurred by hot tears. My fingers twitched and the phone slipped. It slammed into the worn table-top with a splintering crack. I just stared at it, unable to move. A cold numbness seeped deep into my bones. I couldn't think. The lights started to flicker above my head, more rapidly than they had before. I watched through the reflection of my darkened phone screen as the bulbs burst. Sparks twinkled within the intricate spider web of cracks that covered the screen.

Darkness washed through the cafeteria, only deterred by a few windows that lined the walls. Someone screamed dramatically. A few people laughed. Then a storm of whispers burst through the massive room. Several teachers began to shout, trying to regain order and herd the students outside.

"Ceia?"

Every cell in my body had frozen solid. My body refused to work. I couldn't bring myself to respond —to even react or acknowledge the fact that Natalie's hand had curled around my shoulder. I saw Natalie's other hand reach out and pick up my phone. "Oh ouch," she said as she examined the damage. "This looks bad, Ceia."

"I need you to drive me to the hospital."

Somehow, the words came out. They sounded distant, as if I was submerged beneath water and someone else had spoken them. I managed to meet her questioning gaze.

Natalie's eyes widened. "Get up. Let's go. Right now."

I moved robotically. It was easy to escape the school through all the chaos —with all the students spilling out into the courtyard, none of the teachers thought to monitor the door that lead to the student parking lot. Natalie dragged me to her bright red mustang and buckled me into the passenger seat.

"It'll be okay," she said. 

The words were soft spoken and full of warmth. It reminded me of the Natalie that I knew as a kid, back when popularity was a myth. She added, "I don't really know what's going on but I know that it will be okay, Ceia. Just breathe."

I couldn't bring myself to look at her. Or to say the words that would explain what was going on. Instead, I opted to remain silent, my cheek pressed against the window. The glass was cold against my skin, which was somewhat comforting.

Natalie didn't press for answers. She turned up the radio and drummed her thumbs against the steering wheel. It wasn't long before the mustang turned into a large field of concrete and cars. Ahead of us, a bright red and white sign hung above a three door glass entrance, displaying the word 'Emergency' in giant letters.

I didn't even wait for the car to stop.

My hands worked faster than Natalie's brain. I unclipped the seatbelt and threw open the door. Natalie's mouth dropped in shock and she floored the break pedal. I bolted.

"Ceia! Hold on, Ceia! Wait!"

The thin soles of my baby-pink flats slapped against the concrete as I ran. I zeroed in on the door. Distantly, I heard Natalie scream from behind me. "Panaceia! Wait! You can't just run in there like a crazy person!"

I ignored her. The doors slid open and a blast of icy air sliced across my skin. The hairs on my arms stood straight, prickled with goose-bumps. I slowed to a stop and looked around wildly, searching desperately for my father's face. The hospital lobby was painfully barren. Several people were strewn about, slumped within the brown leather chairs that lined the walls. Some were injured. Some were not. It was hard to focus.

Natalie suddenly appeared. I felt her fingers ensnare my wrist. "Panaceia," she whisper-hissed in my ear. "Just wait a second. We don't want to give someone a heart attack."

My jaw clenched. I didn't respond.

"Let's go check in," Natalie said. She tugged me forward, toward a small window that was situated directly across from the door. A woman sat behind it, dressed in blue scrubs. Her fingers tapped against the keyboard in front of her.

She smiled as we approached and said, "Good afternoon! How can I help you, girls?"

"Panaceia!"

I jumped and turned, only to suddenly find my face smashed against someone's shoulder. The arms around me tightened. Just when my lungs were about to cave, I was released and my attacker stepped back.

It was a woman — a stranger that I'd never seen before. Her dark eyes were glassy with tears. "I'm so sorry," she said, her laugh humorless. "You probably have no idea who I am. I haven't seen you since you were in diapers."

I stared at her.

She reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Most of her long dark hair had been pulled back, piled atop her head in a messy bun. A butterfly pin held the up-do together, its wings a deep, melancholic blue with inky spots. It was scarily realistic, its tiny feet lost within strands of her hair. "It's a shame that we have to meet again under these circumstances, isn't it?"

A tornado of words churned at the tip of my tongue, unable to come together in any sort of coherent sentence. I couldn't focus. My thoughts were jumbled. My mother was dead. My dad was somewhere in this building, with all the information that I needed to know concerning my mother. And this weird lady (who apparently knows me, considering she used my full name) just appeared out of nowhere and almost suffocated me. It was too much to process.

I was lost. I was disoriented.

"She has no clue who the hell you are, Tessa," a gruff voice barked from across the room. "You're going to scare her."

My father, sporting a very angry expression, approached us. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his wrinkled khaki pants. His white button-down was half unbuttoned. Nausea burned at the back of my throat as my gaze traveled upward. His dark hair was tousled and unkempt. 

That meant that he'd been with another one of his 'clients'.

Anger bristled through me, an undercurrent flowing just beneath my skin. It brought a sharp, biting clarity to my thoughts. I folded my arms across my chest. My nails dug into the heels of my palms. It took every ounce of my strength not to immediately lash out. Not to scream and cuss him out.

"Dad. What's going on?" I asked. My voice dripped with venom.

"I told you," he said. Tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes. "She's dead. Died from...from an overdose."

I wasn't sure that I'd heard him right. "Excuse me?"

Dad outright glared now. "It was an overdose, Panaceia. Don't make me repeat myself again."

I heard the strange woman make an angry noise and Natalie gasp softly. I ignored them. My mother...died from an overdose. My mother, who hated any kind of medication or drugs, had died...from an overdose.

"That's bullshit," I heard myself snap.

He didn't answer. He looked away from me, now focused on the stranger standing beside me. "Did you get my message?"

I was so angry that my body trembled. "Uh, hello! You weren't finished explaining how my mother managed to die from a freaking overdose?"

There wasn't even a glance in my direction. The woman pinned my dad with a nasty look. "Of course I did, you coward," she growled. "I wouldn't be here if I hadn't."

Dad sucked in a sharp breath. Tears spilled down his cheeks, flowing heavily toward his chin. He wiped at them hastily and sent me withering look. "This is your Aunt Tessa. Your mother's older sister. You'll be staying with her from now on."

I stared at him, incredulous. "Wait, what?"

If looks could kill, his glare would have instantly landed me in the morgue. "Don't call me. Don't text me. Just delete my number. Tessa will be taking care of you from now on."

The air evaporated from my lungs. It honestly took me a moment just to remember how to breathe again. I stared numbly at my father — at the man who'd raised me. At the man who'd taught me how to ride a bike and how to swim. At the man who'd been caught, numerous times, with another woman. At the man who'd always been forgiven.

A weird sounding laugh burst past my lips. It startled everyone within a three-foot radius. "Alright," I heard myself say. My voice was colder than ice, fueled by anger and hatred. "Cool. Go have fun with all your whores."

He flinched. Pain overwhelmed his eyes, tainting his facial expression. For a moment, he just stood there, almost as if he was struggling to absorb my words. Then he turned and marched out of the hospital.

A hand curled around my shoulder. I didn't react. I could feel the tears burning at the corners of my eyes, trickling down my cheeks in thin, warm streams. Aunt Tessa wiped at her own tears and sniffled. "This is a lot to take in all at once."

I couldn't respond. My heart was stuck in the back of my throat — and it felt like it was coated in barbed wire and salt.

Natalie seemed to snap out of her horrified state. Her lips moved around blubbered words. She looked like a fish that had been trapped on land. "Oh. Oh my gosh. Holy crap, Ceia."

Her arms curled around my torso, hugging me tight. Her body shook against mine, trembling with shocked sobs. "I'm so sorry," I heard her gasp in my ear. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry."

I just hiccupped.

I stared blankly at the wall in front of me — at the nurse that sat behind the window, a mere foot away from where we stood. Slowly, the nurse's horrified expression began to register in my brain. I felt bad for her. This poor woman had just unwillingly witnessed a maelstrom of family issues.

The nurse realized that I'd caught her staring. She stood, chair rolling backward, away from her. She seemed distraught. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Aunt Tessa move closer to the window. She smiled at the nurse, her eyes twinkling. The nurse shifted her gaze to Aunt Tessa and paused. She blinked. Her pupils expanded until they completely covered her irises. 

Then the nurse blinked again and her eyes reverted back to normal. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Can I help you, ladies?"

"We were just leaving," Aunt Tessa assured her. "Right girls?"

I shook my head. "My mother. Where is my mother? I want to see her."

Aunt Tessa's lips twisted with a frown. "Panaceia, I don't think that it would be best to see her right now. Her...well, she's not in a very good state at the moment. The doctors are still examining her."

"I want to see her," I insisted coldly.

"No," Aunt Tessa whispered. "No, sweetheart. You don't."

That brought the trembling back. I almost couldn't stand. "I want to see her," I repeated. My voice cracked. I sounded like I'd swallowed a frog.

Shaking her head, Aunt Tessa stepped closer. She placed a hand on my shoulder. "Listen to me. Let's go home and process all of this first. We can come back later if needed. Right now, you need to remember your mother as she was."

I blinked at her. "But... she overdosed."

The look that Aunt Tessa sent me confirmed all of my suspicions. Mom hadn't overdosed. Something else had happened. Something worse. My breaths started to come quicker, morphing into full-on hyperventilation. I wanted to puke.

Aunt Tessa snapped her fingers. "Let's go to the car now," she said.

The weirdest feeling washed over me then. My emotions faded away, replaced with a gentle numbness. Before I could even process what was happening, my feet were moving toward the hospital doors. Sunlight blinded me as we stepped outside.

I wordlessly followed Aunt Tessa through the parking lot.

She pointed to an old blue and white striped Chevy that sat several rows back. "That's my truck over there. Your father dropped off a bag of your things earlier. Is there anything else that you think you might need?"

My mom.

The words died on my lips. Natalie squinted in the sunlight and pointed to her car. "I parked over there. Your backpack and purse are still in my car, I think. Let me go get them."

I watched as she took off toward the car. She opened the passenger door, pulled out my things, and then jogged back. When she got close enough, she held out the bags and sent me a half-smile. "Here. I put your cell-phone in the front pocket."

"You are a very good friend," Aunt Tessa said warmly. She smiled at Natalie and reached out, taking her hand. "Thank you for all that you've done today. Do you feel comfortable driving home by yourself?"

Natalie's eyes glossed over with a fresh batch of tears. "Yeah, totally. I should be fine."

Aunt Tessa beamed with approval. Natalie wiped at her eyes, smearing her eyeliner. She turned toward me and reached out, pulling me into another hug. "Are you going to come to school tomorrow?"

"Probably not." Aunt Tessa spoke before I could. She sent me a reassuring look and continued, "I think it would be best if Panaceia took a few days off. I think we all need to recover."

I nodded. "Yeah."

Natalie squeezed me tighter. Then she released me and stepped back. "Don't take too long. I'm going to miss seeing your gorgeous face at school."

A snort escaped me. I honestly felt like I was just kind of floating around. None of this felt real. "I'll miss you too," I managed to whisper back.

3646 words later...

We officially have the new (and hopefully improved) first chapter of LAW! This is actually the longest chapter that I have ever posted to Wattpad. Usually my chapters range from 1-2k. I am honestly a little nervous right now. I hope that you like the new version! And if you don't, please don't be afraid to let me know. I would love to hear your thoughts!! 

Thank you so, so, so, so much for your continued patience and support. I love you guys so much!! 

ash ❤