Were it not for her respect for Mr Richards, Korina would not have been able to resist the urge to slap Madison and her cronies. All throughout class, she could hear them whispering and sniggering to each other. "Oh my God, she's such a psycho. She almost killed you. For that fucking psycho," said Casey, throwing her friend into a fit of giggles. "If Jared doesn't see it now, he will soon. And when he does, he'll be yours for the taking." Korina didn't look up at the girls or show any sign of hearing what they were saying. She just kept her head down and counted the seconds till she could leave.<br/><br/>The next class was more of the same. As soon as Mr Richards left, Korina followed close behind, getting to the lockers and leaving before anyone else even arrived. She found herself a nice seat from which she could ignore everyone and sat quietly, trying her best to calm herself down. It was a slow process, which wasn't really helped along much by Madison's constant gloating from the other side of the room, or Jared's apparent obliviousness to all of it. He always was. Whenever the two girls clashed, Korina would almost always end up looking like the bad guy, the girlfriend who just can't get along with his friends.<br/><br/>At the ring of the lunch bell, Korina made yet another quick escape. Gathering up her things quickly, she headed to the cafeteria, where she got herself a sandwich and soda. She was just about to leave when Tammy caught up to her. "Hey, where are you going" she asked. "You know where. If I stay here, I might end up doing something I'll regret. And no, you don't have to come, I'll be fine on my own." she replied before stalking out of the hall. She went against the flow of traffic, weaving through the crowd as she picked her way to the gymnasium. Since she was captain of the gymnastics tam, the coach allowed her to keep the key. This gave her the ability to train at any time she pleased, or to hide away without worry of being bothered.<br/><br/>She looked around as she unlocked the door and turned the knob, swinging it open. Bright rays of light poured in through the high windows, illuminating every bit of the room perfect. Her bag dropped to the ground and she kicked off her shoes to feel the familiar hardwood surface against the soles of her feet. It was comforting. The silence was soothing. A corner of her copy of<i>Oliver Twist </i>peaked from her bag, inviting her to read more, and she promptly obliged, pulling it out and flipping through the pages as she padded along the floor to the balance beam. She placed the open book face down against the equipment before nimbly clambering on and standing. She was finally at peace; no Madison, no Jannes or Casey, no Jared. Just her, the balance beam and the words of Charles Dickens.