Meant for each other?

-9-

"I can't believe we have to leave already," the model that Karlie has spent her last week with moans as she hugs her friend goodbye in the hotel lobby. She's not leaving until tomorrow, having a nice, relaxing detox day by herself before heading to New York.

"I'll miss you," Karlie swallows, reaching for her bag. The brunette has never been good at goodbyes, closing off her emotional side until a day later or until she's accepted her situation.

"Text me when you're about to get on the plane. And let me know when you're back." The instructions are caring and Karlie tells the blonde she'll follow them, meaning it for once. "Bye Hun." This time the runaway doesn't reply, ducking into the awaiting taxi and trying to forget about the miserable country she was about to return to.

England has landed in Autumn whilst the brunette was away, the trees losing leaves that now scatter the main drive, a harsh wind sweeping tendrils of the runaways hair across her face. Trying to avoid any staff and deciding she'd go and see Taylor later, Karlie climbs the stairs to the girls wing, noting the silence, before stepping into her own room and shutting the door, eyes closed in relief. Only when she opens them does the student see her guidance mentor standing there wielding a paintbrush. "Karlie," Taylor frowns, starting to pain the wall again. Now she's looking properly, the green eyed girl can see the stark baroness of the walls, all her colourful doodles gone, a pout crossing her face. "Why'd you get rid of my drawings?" She questions the blonde who's still painting steadily. "And why're you in my room?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, you were missing in action and this needed painting so... Here I am." It's a snarky reply, cold and harsh. Frankly, it hurts.

"Are you annoyed?" Dumping her bag on the floor, the teen steps into the newly painted room. The brunette narrows her eyes, perching on the edge of her bed before standing up and slipping the paintbrush out of the older girls hand which is now stationary. Taylor snatches her hand away suddenly, rounding on her student.

"Have you even told anyone you're back?" She demands.

"No." Without another word, the blonde tells the runaway to follow her, striding with a pace the brunette could keep up due to her long legs towards the office, a sharp knock on the Headteachers office throwing Karlie straight into deep water, no time to prepare excuses or a rational explanation. The pair are told to come in, a surprised Lily greeting them as they sit in the chairs opposite, Taylor more warmly than Karlie. "Miss Kloss, you decided to join us," the superior figure simply says. No reply leaves the students mouth, a defiant anger setting in. "Do you have any explanation for your behaviour?"

"I needed to see someone that actually likes me, someone normal, for once. I just needed to get away." It's a weak argument but it's all the youngest girl can think of.

"Karlie. You've caused no end of trouble, I think you know that. But if you'd explained how you felt instead of smoking and drinking it away and planning some huge escape plan we could've arranged a holiday for you."

"Yeah, one chaperoned by some teacher with a load of other kids. I had proper fun." Maybe she should have left the attitude out of that, the brunette thinks as she waits for a reply.

"Instead you go and get drunk and have the pictures broadcasted to the Internet, that's a great idea," when it finally comes, the snarky reply is from the blonde next to her, her sassy tongue immediately hurting the youngest of the trio.

"You're just jealous," the brunette snaps, "jealous that you're stuck here when you could be out partying like you should be."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Taylor demands, twisting in her seat to face Karlie. The tension between them is palpable, the sweet harmony of their odd relationship gone replaced with cold fury. From her seat opposite the pair, the headteacher surveys the argument folding out in front of her, only finding it necessary to intervene when Taylor uses the word 'hell.' "Miss Swift," the oldest woman warns. Looking flustered, the guidance counsellor sits forward again, trying to calm herself down. "Taylor, I'll deal with our runaway, go and relax for the day." With a curt nod the said girl leaves the warm office, the headteacher and runaway left together. "You'll need to apologise to Miss Swift," the brunette is told.