- Aria's POV -

"Did you submit it?"

I turn to Zoe with a big grin. "Yeah, just this morning."

"I can't believe that son of a biscuit actually sabotaged your art. Watch, I'm going to kill him." Zoe growls, slamming her fist on her desk.

"Can I help?" Liz takes her seat behind me.

I shake my head, laughing slightly. In all honesty, I really don't care if they go ahead and strangle Miles to death. But first, I'd like to have a little fun of my own. My plan was already in action, from the minute when Ryan told me this morning that he and the boys would be over at his house after school. He invited us to come, but while Zoe and Liz agreed, I rejected so I could break into Miles' room and begin my hunt for his lovely thousands of pairs of shoes. I'm not sure if his parents will be home, though.

Good luck to me!

Yawning, I rest my head on my desk. my eyes feeling heavy. I always fell asleep in History class. I don't know if it's the teacher or the subject that makes this class remarkably boring. Luckily, the period finally ends and I spring up from my chair when the bell rings, bolting out of the plain room and head towards the cafeteria with my two friends trailing behind me.

Just as I drop my butt on the lunch table bench, my name is heard over the announcements.

"Aria Brooks, please come to the principal's office."

Liz and Zoe stare at me with curious eyes. I huff and stand up.

"What did you do this time, Ria?" Zoe looks bemused.

I shrug, not knowing the answer myself. Is this about that day on the field trip where I tried to sacrifice Mrs. Cockroach? Oh, gosh. I'm doomed.

Cursing the principal for wasting my precious lunch time, I make my way down the halls to the office. Once I get there, I find both my aunt and uncle, as well as one of the policemen from that day Miles found the note. Mr. Jenkins, the principle, doesn't look too pleased with my presence. Afterall, I'm in his office pretty often.

"Hello, Aria. I'm Officer Jones. I've got some news for you." The cop says, frowning.

I glance at Lydia and Paul. They look nervous. Mr. Jenkins clears his throat and leaves the room.

"Is this about the case? Did you find anything?" I ask, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

Officer Jones shakes his head. My stomach churns. What is he here for, then?

"Unfortunately, the suspect probably wore gloves and left no other trace of evidence. That is, until your aunt noticed your room had been trashed."

What?

I stay silent, turning my gaze on Aunt Lyd. She sighs and begins explaining, "I just got off from work and a couple of hours later I decided to do your laundry. But when I walked into your room . . . Aria, not only is everything thrown onto the floor, but the walls are painted red. It-it looked so much like blood."

Okay, that's it. Whoever did it, I am going to slit their throat. No one messes with my room.

"Do you know who it was?"

"Not yet, but we're still looking into it." Officer Jones says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Paul stands up. "Kid, do you have any suspicions? Anyone who might be bullying you at school, or something?"

My thoughts instantly drift to Miles. I'd say he's capable of pulling something like this, especially after his last 'prank'. But then again, he's been at school the whole day, torturing me with his annoying voice in English.

What about Maya? I definitely hadn't forgotten about her disgusting pranks the year my parents died. She really has no sympathy. However, like Miles, she's been at school all day too.

My eyes snap back to Paul's worried ones. "No. I don't think so."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think staying in your home is the safest idea right now. Especially for Aria." Jones tells us.

I already know what my aunt and uncle are going to say next.

"That shouldn't be a problem. Our neighbours have offered a place to stay." Lydia perks up, slipping her hand into Paul's.

Wonderful.

I'm not even going to protest. This way, it'll be easier to pull off pranks. Even though living with Miles for god knows how long sounds horrible, I'm sure it's going to be worth it.

"Great. Well, I'll give you a call if I have any updates. Have a nice rest of the day," Officer Jones tips his hat at us, then exits the room.

I turn to my legal guardians, raising a brow at them. "How long will we be staying with them, exactly?"

Paul shrugs. "Until we're informed it's safe to go back home, I guess. I'm really sorry this is happening, Aria. I know how much you loved painting on those walls, and now that's all covered."

I sigh. "Well, at least I can paint over it again."

Principal Jenkins comes back in just as the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch.

"Aria, you're dismissed." He says. I nod, smirking.

"Lets go home and get what we need, then we'll head over to the Prescott's, okay?" Lydia says it more like a question, but it really isn't.

"Mhm," I hum. When I start towards the door, my thigh hits the edge of Mr. Jenkins' desk. I wince and rub it, then continue to march out the door.

●●●

"They used my paint? The paint that I used my money on?" I shriek, peeking into my room.

Actually, the money was Uncle Paul's, but whatever.

The containers of what used to be full of red paint is empty, and rolling on the floor. The walls, like Lydia had described, looks like blood. Like my nightmare. My brushes are scattered everywhere, and some of my books had been thrown off the shelf and onto the ground. My bed is a mess and sheets of paper are crumpled, my desk flipped over.

I am so thankful that my laptop wasn't on top of it.

Wait—where's Stitch?

My eyes dart frantically across the room and my heart pounds wildly against my chest, like it could burst any second. There's no sight of Stitch anywhere.

I run to Lydia and Paul's room, tears prickling my eyes. What if whoever trashed my room took Stitch because they knew he's important to me?

"Aunt Lyd? Do you know where Stitch is?"

Her eyes grow wide and she stops folding her clothes. "You can't find him?"

I shake my head, scrunching up my nose. Shit, shit, shit. If Lydia doesn't know where he is, he's bound to never be found again.

"Oh, honey. Don't worry, I'll help you look. He's got to be somewhere." She pulls me into a hug and tries for a joke, "Otherwise, he ditched you."

My frown only grows.

"Who ditched who?" Uncle Paul emerges from the bathroom.

"Stitch is gone," I pout, feeling like a child.

Paul's frown matches mine for a second until it turns into a wide smile. "Oh! I swooped him up from your bed when we called Jones. I know you don't like strangers touching Stitch. He's under the pillows."

Grinning, I rush to their bed and throw the pillows off. Sure enough, there was Stitch. Relief floods over me and I hug him tight.

"Thanks, Paul! You're a life saver." I laugh, hugging him as well.

He laughs with me. "I know, I'm awesome."