#had a dream i fell asleep on the highway and got into a wreck. was very engrossed in the motion of the car

[dreamsxfnia]

meet me awake || eobard & nia

SUMMARY: After the attack on her home the night of the Lord Tech Gala, Nia attempts to go home to Parthas to visit her father for a few days. Eobard has other plans. DATE: November 10th FEATURING: @speedinreverse  WARNINGS: car crash, blood, injuries

NIA: Nia still had no regrets about standing up for Daisy. Put her in the same place tomorrow, and she'd do it again. But she was exhausted by the consequences of being vocal. This wasn't people taking aim at Dreamer, who was a public figure, who Nia was proud to make a role model, and who didn't have to live the rest of her life. This was people attacking her--in her work, online, and now in her home. Nia could only be grateful that Yvette was already away for a few days; it gave enough time for Nia to get the window fixed and the apartment cleaned up. But at the end of organising for everything to be fixed, Nia was just so tired. She wanted to curl up in a ball and have someone tell her it would all be okay. 

She wanted to go home. 

When she had called her dad, he'd known immediately. Something about her voice, he said. Maybe her mom's visions rubbing off on him, he joked. Nia had packed a bag, just enough for a few days, and thrown it in a rental car by early afternoon. Sending off texts to let her friends know where she'd be was the last thing she did before turning her phone off and beginning to drive to Parthas.

EOBARD: It was easy to convince someone to trust you when they thought they had the upper hand.  She was young, yet, still learning her powers, but she'd no doubt been given some degree of confidence by the fact that it was always her that found him, in his dreams, rather than the other way round.  She'd refused to give him her name, smart girl, and so sniffing her out had required time and patience. 

Time was always on the side of a speedster.

It had paid off, in the end; he'd been at the LordTech gala, as had she--as press.  It'd been simple enough to glean her name from the press pass around her neck, and from there, things were all too simple.  Even here in the 21st century, simply a name could get you more than enough information: addresses, cars, voter registration, tax bills.  All of it was at one's disposal if they knew where to look.

Nia Nal.  From there, it was simply a matter of biding his time, and soon enough the opportunity presented itself: the girl was traveling alone.  Maybe not so smart, after all.

One didn't need a whole lot of strength to do damage, even with something as heavy as a car on the receiving end.  One hit to the side with a good running start from a few miles back sent the car spinning off the road.

NIA: Nia got out of the city without too much trouble, trying to focus on driving and not letting her mind wander. The traffic kept her busy until she got out of the city itself, but once on the highway the traffic thinned until she was practically alone on the mostly straight road. It was then that her mind began to bring up things she didn't want to think about--especially the anger and fear she felt.

BANG.

The impact she felt against the side of her car jolted her back to the present with a start. She hadn't seen anything, no other car or deer or anything that could've hit her, but she'd felt it. Her car had certainly felt it. Her hands gripped the wheel tight as she tried to brake and get the car under control. But it happened too quickly. Her car span out, careening off the shoulder and slamming into a large tree a few feet further away. The car threatened to tip against the tree, before gravity righted it with a thud. Nia's head crashed into the side of the car, stars and pain exploding in front of her eyes, as airbags finally deployed. As quickly as it had started, it was over. The road was quiet again; the wreck of her car and skidding on the road the only signs anything had gone awry.

EOBARD: The car careened off-road, slamming into a tree and tipping precariously before settling back on four wheels.  The airbags deployed, belatedly, and Eobard scoffed incredulously behind his mask.  20th century technology, for all that it was interesting, was certainly archaic--and, apparently, nigh on useless.

He tugged on the crumpled car door for a moment, and when the hinges didn't give, simply slid a vibrating hand around the edges of the door until it fell away at his feet.  Nia was dazed, blood dripping from her temples, but a pained groan as he pulled her from the car was ample evidence that she wasn't unconscious yet.

Eobard carried her away from the car before laying her out on the grass, gloved fingers deftly checking her over for any serious injuries that hadn't been immediately visible.  "Still with me, Miss Nal?"

NIA:  Nia wasn't unconscious, though she would've been in she were fully human. As it were, she was in a lot of pain. Pain that seemed to overwhelm every other sense, as she tried to force her eyes open to take stock of her surroundings. Come on. Dreamer can't be taken out by a car accident. Come on! She managed to blink her eyes open just as a hand began tugging her out of the car. Nia groaned in pain involuntarily as she was pulled to her feet and then into someone's arms.

The next thing she knew, she felt grass beneath her back. Had she lost time or was the person who rescued her not moving at usual speeds? Nia couldn't tell. She opened her eyes, trying to see past the splitting pain in her skull and the rest of her body. Thank god for alien durability; she'd survived mostly intact. Nia wasn't so sure about her left leg--the pain there felt worse than the rest--but she would survive.

As her eyes focused on the face above her, Nia frowned hard. She couldn't see their face, but that voice. She knew that voice. If she could just think properly, she'd recognise it, she was sure. The name was on the tip of her tongue. "What...?" Her dreams came back to her, that voice and the strange visions of a future. "...Eobard?"

EOBARD: Her leg wasn't looking great, but that wasn't much of a concern--as far as Eobard was concerned, that made this all the easier.  No need for restraints if she couldn't put weight on her leg to run, anyway.  Her voice was shaky, but she'd done well enough to identify his voice, even with an unfamiliar mask swimming in front of her eyes rather than the face she'd grown used too.

Best not to underestimate this one.  "Smart girl."  He offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes--not that she'd be able to tell anyway, with the red glow obscuring them.  "I was hoping you'd lost consciousness on your own--always tricky business, doing it myself.  Do hold still, Miss Nal; trust me, you'd rather be asleep for this, anyway."

His hand drew back, and a careful blow to her temple had her eyes fluttering closed a moment later.

[vamprnce]

Cold Night's

Prompt: What if in SR3 Chris had a dream that Johnny came back? Only to wake up and remember he’s gone?

I kinda wrote this as if Johnny was still alive in his dream?? ig that's the same thing,, it has a slight ref to the beginning to srtt also when boss says it'll be fun to rob a bank in 2, also Moni makes an appearance! srtt is super angsty I love it

He checked his phone at least a hundred times that night at the bar. Chris sat at the counter waiting for Monica to show up. He's been depressed lately and Moni decided to take him out for some fun. But he just sat waiting for her ass to finally show up. He checked his phone one more time before retreating it back in his jacket pocket. Gulping the rest of his whiskey, he slammed down the shot glass on counter top and stood to go play pool.

A few minutes in the game Moni crashed through the front door abruptly. "The fuck is up, bitches!?" Moni exclaims loudly to the whole bar swinging her arms up, making to crowd cheer and clap for her presence. Chris and Moni were regulars at the Broken Shillelagh now, it was their spot. Mostly to get wasted and play pool, which is exactly what was planned.

Chris stood on the side of the table as she walked up towards him and stood on the other side. He leaned his body over the table to get close to her with the most unamused look plastered on his face. "The fuck were you at?" He says frowning. She sighed and put one hand on the edge of the table, rolling one of the balls around with her finger tip.

"Look I'm sorry I'm late, Shaundi and Pierce were arguing about some shit then dragged me in it. I wouldn't have cared but it really looked like Shaundi was gonna murder someone." She explains with a laugh, Chris looked at her with arms crossed his chest, still looking unamused. He wouldn't have got annoyed at her for being late but she also never called. "Stop making that face, I said I'm sorry!" Moni said with the most apologetic look on her face.

He shook his head and laughed thinking about the scene she described to him. Those kids never change. "Whatever, you're here now. Wanna do some shots?" He says smirking and pointing at the bar over his shoulder. "Shit yeah!" She excitedly agrees. They both stride over to the bar and Chris ordered a round of shots for the night.

With all the shit that's happened he hasn't been the same. The toll on him of Johnny's death was high and left him in ruins. Moni felt the same way but she can see how much more he missed Johnny, they were inseparable and never away from each other. It hurts to see how miserable he's been about it, even he acts like he's not. Getting him out and distracting him seemed the best option she can take since he refuses to be open and talk about it.

They both sat at the bar and chatted. Moni raised her glass smiling, Chris raised his too clinking both their glasses together. The night was going well so far, shots were downed and drunk laughter loudly filled the bar. They stayed there until a little after 1 am, both heavily drunk but still managed to stumble to Monica's car. It would've been smarter to take a cab but both of their judgement was impaired.

She slid in the driver's seat as Chris collapsed in the passengers giggling. Starting up the car and pulling out into the road she decided to go the penthouse since it was more closer. On the way there they joked around. "Oh my god, you... you remember when first met? Fuckin' out here shaking your ass around on top of the bar at Pussies." She laughing her ass off trying to drive straight, they were close to the apartment. She looked over when she didn't hear Chris laughing with her and saw him slumped way down in the seat passed out. She laughs and shakes her head.

They arrived safely at the penthouse and she was left to drag him all the way up upstairs. She put an arm around him for support and help him to the elevator, getting to the top floor she drags him inside the apartment to couch. He basically fell on top of it. Moni stayed for the night but retreated to one of the spare rooms. Chris eventually left alone passed out on the couch.

--------------------

There was shooting and cops everywhere. It was a messy plan to begin with but impulsive. "Hey let's go rob someone, no! A bank, yeah, a fuckin' bank!" Chris says eye wide and filled with excitement, he grabbed at Johnny's arm as they were driving around. He looked like a five year old in a candy shop. "We get to cause some chaos? I'm not in if we don't blown up the bank." Johnny muses.

"Bitch, we blowing up the bank and the cops then run with all the cash. By the time they get us we'll be on our own island somewhere." Chris was smiling wide. "We doin' this?"

"How can I say no to blowing up cops and an island?" Johnny says smiling and fist bumping him over the plan.

Suddenly they were already at a huge bank, probably loaded with cash maybe billions. Everything went fast, guns were drawn and a warning shot rang through the building, making everyone startled and instantly drop down to the floor cowering.

Chris drawn the rifle at the teller telling them to hurry up. Bags of cash was handed over. There was so many, he couldn't even imagine how much these were worth. He looked over at Johnny and saw how phenomenal he looked right now, all seriousness on his face and body posture all while pointing his gun at everyone. If he wasn't robbing a bank right now he'd stand there and stare at him all day. He was so mesmerising.

The cops came shortly and they were already running out to the car, money and all. The building was surrounded and more shots rang out. They were now in a fire fight with the cops and his adrenaline was rushing through him. Both Johnny and him took cover by their car. "You better promise me that damn island." Johnny says, he was still smiling as he shot back at some cops.

Chris couldn't say anything, he just kept staring at him while he was shooting. It felt like he was frozen in time. He didn't care about the cops anymore he just loved witnessing Johnny in action, it made him feel alive. A feeling like butterflies filled his stomach, he loved it, he didn't want it to end. Loud noises rang out making him snap out of the weird trance he slipped into.

"Yo, we should get going." Johnny says abruptly. "Why'd mean, we can smoke all these assholes. I ain't done yet." Chris furrows his brows starting to shoot back now. Why leave? It was starting to get good now. He wasn't even close to running out of ammo yet and it seemed like endless supply of cops were pouring out of nowhere.

"We should go."

"Why do keep sayin--" Chris started to ask but some how they were already in the car on the highway. The cops were still chasing them when he looked behind him, the bags were in the backseat too. "What the?" He mutters to himself. He didn't have time to question anything. A cop sped up next to their car trying their best to shoot them out. Killing the driver was easy from him, the cop car stopped abruptly making a domino effect with the other cops tailing them.

It looked like the coast was clear. They speed down the highway to who knows where. Chris laughed, a laugh that sounded genuine and happy. He is happy, he felt amazing causing havoc with Johnny. It's everything he wanted, just to see him in his nature. "You see that Johnny, that was sick!" Chris hollers, raising his arm out to him for a high five.

Johnny smiles and high fives back. "Where we heading to now, Johnny?" Chris asks, but he doesn't get an answer. "Johnny?"

Everything went white and fuzzy.

--------------------

"Johnny!"

Eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly. He was panting and eyes wide, anxiety stirring inside him. He looked around and saw he was on the living room floor. He sighed deeply, crossing his legs and putting his head in his hands. It was just a dream but it seemed real enough. He was alive and he was beautiful.

All the good feelings were snatched away quickly as reality set in, Johnny wasn't alive and he wasn't here with him. It's something he hated deeply waking up to. He just sat there on the floor alone, and he felt it strongly. God, if he could dragged him back to earth right now, he would do anything to make that happen. Just to have his best friend and his only love back at his side, to have him alive and breathing. To have him wreck this city to the ground with him.

His heart ached and it made his chest hurt, it was indescribable. Thinking back to the smile Johnny had in the dream made it a thousand times worse. He hugged one of his legs and rest his chin on his knee, feeling so horrible and empty he tried his hardest not cry. He's tired of crying over his friends, tired of grieving.

Exhaling a shaky breathe he climbed on to the couch. He laid there staring up at nothing, he didn't want to think of anything.

He didn't fall back asleep.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Direct Action (a Dean/Cas fic, M, 5.7k)

It was a strange night for Dean Winchester. First, he finds out his girlfriend tells everyone but him they're in an open relationship. Then, he meets up with one of the men who hit on her. At this point, anything could happen. So who is he to fight back? If he rolls with it... who knows how it'll all end?

           Dean had no idea what he was doing. Sitting at a booth inside Mabel’s Diner, he stabbed at his milkshake, hoping no one fell into the seat across from him. ‘Maybe it was all a joke,’ he thought, glare burning a frothy hole in his drink, ‘Yeah, I mean… just some quick thinking to save himself from a messy situation. That’s it.’ It’s already fifteen minutes since he was supposed to meet him. In another fifteen, he was officially stood up. ‘Why do you care anyway? You have a girlfriend back at your place…’ A storm shifted in his mind, expression darkening further after bringing up Abby. ‘Although, if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be in this mess.’

           It all began only a few hours ago. Abby swung by after her double shift at the hospital, squeezing in some time together. He prepared her favorite – steak on the rare side with some potato casserole on the side. Dean wanted a special night in since it was the first time in two weeks they’d seen each other. The recent months hadn’t been kind to them, their schedules fitting together like a square peg in a round hole. ‘And maybe I wanted this dinner to work because it felt like we were… drifting apart,’ he rationalized after.

           Although she threw his plans off its course; greeting him at the door, Abby pounced. Leaving their clothes behind them, Dean carried her into his bedroom. In between kisses, he tried to tell her about the dinner. She chuckled. “Hungry for something else.”

           By the time they finished Dean knew their meal was freezing. He dug himself out from beneath the covers, flipping it over his face to smile at Abby. Only she was already asleep. Dean pouted, rolling off of her and onto his side of the bed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Abby,” he grunted, shifting his hard dick around, “No, it’s okay, I can finish myself off… like always.” Tugging at it, Dean worked his boner at an safe pace, squeezing the head and balls arrhythmically.

           He came into his palm, biting at his lip with enough force to tear the skin. Panting, Dean laid in bed, the exhaustion of a heady orgasm rippling through him like stones skipping across a lake. He glanced over at Abby, resting undisturbed even after that. “Of course,” he muttered. Feeling his come start to dry, Dean ambled out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom. Then, still naked, he set about cleaning up the house.

           While picking up the strewn clothing, after having put away the untouched dinner, he heard the familiar chime of a message being received. He searched through the pile before finding it – Abby’s phone. ‘Probably nothing, a shift change,’ he thought at first. But then they took a sharp left onto a speeding highway. ‘…Or it could be an emergency. She has been getting a lot of those, having to go back into work.’ It would be at the most awkward times, Dean waking up to find either Abby gone or on her way out, not even waiting for a kiss goodbye.

           Letting his nerves take the wheel, Dean unlocked Abby’s phone. It was her messenger app, the little bubble on the right of her screen filled with a strong, stubble-dusted chin and smirk. His heart beat faster, unsure what a profile like that would be doing contacting Abby. He knew all her friends, and none of them had features that chiseled. It made sense when he opened the message.

           Hey gorgeous, how are you?

           Dean’s mind hit an icy patch, skidding and swerving off the road and into a ditch. He stared at the screen, too stunned to respond. Instead he walked back to his room, lying down, revving his engine and spinning his wheels to climb back out of the hole he was in. ‘This… it must be a wrong number.’ But then he remembered it was through Messenger, and not some random text. His blood, once frozen, now rushed around in blazing anger. ‘Where does this guy get off… contacting Abby when we’re together.’

           Acting on autopilot, Dean shot off a quick text: She’s sleeping, dude. Then, feeling cocky, he opened the camera feature to snap a quick picture of himself, sending that as well. Along with: It’s me, her boyfriend.

           He wasn’t expecting to see the little dots appear in the bottom left corner. ‘Dude has balls…’ Waiting, Dean glanced at the guy’s name, and reigned in a snort. ‘With a name like Castiel, he probably needed a set to get through life.’

           Dean wasn’t laughing when he read the next message.

           Hey handsome, how are you? <3

           There wasn’t any traction left to help Dean. He was stuck, unable to make any sense of the situation. So confused, he sent a follow-up to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. …Did you just hit on me, after hitting on my girlfriend?

           Barely a minute passed before Castiel answered Yes.

           How big are the balls you walk around with?

           It’d be easier if I showed you ;)

           Dean shook his head, clearing away the fierce blush working its way up his cheeks. ‘Can he not take a hint?’ Dude not interested. Again, in a relationship.

           There’s a bit of a pause as he waited for Castiel’s latest response. ‘Looks like I’ve finally thrown him off his rhythm.’ Except it was his rhythm that broke apart when he read what Castiel had to say.

           I thought Abby had an open relationship?

           His heart plummeted under his bed, mingling with the sex toys and boxes he stored. Typing back with fury, he asked, Who told you that?

           Mutual friend. Plus her FB page says she’s in an open relationship.

           Dean wanted to believe Castiel was a liar. Some guy that flew a little too close to the sun, got burned, and was spiraling somewhere he could land with only a few bruises. ‘And Abby’s my girlfriend, I should trust her.’ He tapped on the Facebook app. ‘We’re coming up on our one year – we’ve been clear about what we want.’ Dean went to her profile. ‘She’d never… never…’

           Relationship Status: in an Open Relationship

           His vision spun. If he weren’t already lying down, Dean would have collapsed from how weak he felt. Suddenly his left side numbed, as if being that close to Abby was too much to bear. And if that wasn’t enough to deal with, more messages pinged on her phone.

           Is that not the case?

           Shit, I’m sorry.

           Are you okay?

           Dean huffed a bitter laugh, the taste of it making his lips curl. He typed back: Would you be okay?

           Castiel somehow had an answer. No. In my experience hitting things was more cathartic.

           Don’t really feel like wrecking my place.

           Then would you like to talk?

           Which is how Dean ended up in Mabel’s. They agreed to meet up there to talk things through in person. It was a strange thing, taking the guy who hit on your girlfriend to a midnight snack to discuss her possible infidelities. But with reality warped already, Dean found their plans the most normal outcome. After wiping the conversation from Abby’s phone, he got dressed and sped over. Dean came earlier than warranted, but because he couldn’t stand being in the same space as Abby for the time being.

           Wanting to turn his mind away from the spiraling black hole thinking of her would lead to, he started researching Castiel Novak. Dean wanted to know a bit more about whom he was meeting with besides his jawline. Granted, his Facebook page wasn’t of much help either. He was worse than Dean, who set up a profile three years ago to Castiel’s five. ‘That’s not the only gap…’ Castiel was two years older than him, which might explain the bad angles of his pictures. ‘If you’re using Facebook to troll for chicks, you’d wanna not have bad photos that scream over forty.’ The single defining feature Dean got from Castiel was dark, messy hair.

           “Dean? Is that you?”

           His investigation turned up all the wrong information. Dean whipped his head around, jaw somewhat dropping at the sight. “I thought you were a brunet?”

(Keep Reading - Link to Fic)

[twdgfanfiction]

Chapter 4 - Uncertain Futures

It was late into the night when Charlotte finally stopped, parking up by a small river flowing right alongside the highway, the waters calm and clear, reflecting the stars shining up above. Filling up the canteen and empty bottles she had, Charlotte sat beside the river, taking in the beautiful sights whilst her brothers got ready to sleep for the night. Listening as they talked to each other quietly and the crackle of the campfire they had set up, she packed the bottles away, keeping the canteen with her as she took a large gulp, wiping the corner of her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket, before throwing it in with the other supplies. Glancing down at her reflection, she stared at the gauze taped onto her face, slender fingers moving up to gently touch the soft fabric, and in the back of her mind she could hear the gunshots going off.

Closing her eyes, she turned her head away from the reflection, instead opening her eyes to stare at the car parked nearby, the keys tucked safely in her pocket. It was dangerous sleeping outside of the vehicle, but it was a beautiful night and she didn't want it to go to waste. Softly, she heard Dylan call to her from behind. "I can take first watch."

"It's alright, I got it." She rejected, trying her best to stifle a yawn. She didn't look at her brother as she got ready for the first watch, stretching with a low groan in her throat, her fingers curling into fists as the fatigue set in. It had been almost two days since she last slept. She could feel her eyes trying to close, and fought to stay awake, wanting her brothers to get some sleep and didn't feel safe letting one of them keep watch whilst she slept.

Instead, she just grabbed the shotgun she left by her side, and turned so that her back was to the river, able to see all around her in case of any danger lurking in the forest. The highway was just behind the thick cover of trees, Charlotte having driven off it to prevent anyone from finding their vehicle. When morning came, they would set off again, but until then it was safe enough to get a few hours of sleep. Softly, she heard Mason yawn, his voice tired as he mumbled. "Good night, Charlie."

"Sleep tight, buddy." She replied, watching her brothers settle down in their sleeping bags, leaving her alone with just her thoughts to keep her company. The smell of walker blood wafted into her nose, almost making her gag, and she glanced down at her dirty jacket, unzipping it as she grumbled. "I ain't keeping this on whilst it smelling something awful."

Carefully, as to not disturb her brothers, she removed the jacket, keeping it as far away from her as possible. Turning around to the river, she dunked the jacket in the water, watching as she tried to scrub the blood out of the fabric, grunting in annoyance when the fluid proved difficult to remove. The water was dyed slightly red, only for the colour to be washed away by the flowing river. Eventually, she was satisfied with the result, pulling the jacket out of the river and standing up, walking over to the fire before she quickly frowned, noticing how low the flames were getting.

"Shit." She quietly swore, placing the soaking jacket on the ground as she glanced around. "I should gather some firewood."

Walking towards the line of trees, she kept her eyes on the ground, on the lookout for any sticks or logs that had fallen. The forests at this time of night were silent, eerily so, with only the wind blowing through the trees causing any noise, the branches bending slightly up above her. All the leaves had been shedded, crunched under her thick boots and soaked with the rains that kept pouring through the winter season, Charlotte at least thankful that it wasn't snow. She didn't know what to do when they reached the colder states. Unnerved, she slowly gathered twigs, sticks, anything she could find, grabbing a large log as well.

Arms ached from the events of the previous day, the muscles in her limbs tensed painfully as she carried her findings back, freezing when she heard a crack from within the forest, sounding almost like a twig being stepped on. Eyes trained on the direction of the sound, she slowly made her way over to her shotgun, crouching low when she reached her weapon. It wouldn't have been any survivors, they wouldn't have waited for her to reach her weapon before springing the trap, and walkers would have just kept moving even if they gave their position away. It was something else.

Quietly, she placed the firewood down, her hand creeping over to her shotgun, and she rose up quickly, aiming the shotgun in the direction of the sound. The wind had stopped blowing, leaving the surroundings in a nerve-wrecking silence. Just standing there, she didn't move a muscle, feeling her heart beating faster from the perceived threat, and when nothing came out of the forest, she lowered her weapon. On edge, her lips pulled together into a thin line, her eyes narrowed before she just shook her head, holding the gun in one hand whilst she grabbed some of the firewood with the other.

Whistling a tune to entertain herself, she leisurely made her way over to the dying campfire, placing the shotgun down beside her as she got to work. Pulling the lighter out of her pocket, she turned to her backpack, dragging it closer to her as she rummaged through its content. Quickly, she found some paper to burn, pulling it out and holding it in one hand, flicking the lighter open with the other hand. Striking the stone, she watched as a small flame appeared, bringing it over and burning the paper. With that burning, she shoved it down onto the bottom of the campfire, watching as the flames grew larger, though they were still too low.

Gently, she continued to add the twigs and sticks she gathered, using a large one to turn the wood around, allowing the flames to burn through the provided fuel and grow. The heat of the fire warmed her body, her hands moving to in front of her as she rubbed them, feeling the coldness melting away from her fingers. She could feel the temperature dropping over the autumn season, worrying that soon winter would be on them, and the depleting source of food was one of the major problems they were facing. On cue, her stomach growled loudly, her hand pressed against it as she grumbled under her breath, turning back to her bag.

Taking out the small bag of supplies that Samantha had stolen, she grabbed a bag of jerky, staring down at it as her mouth watered, her stomach twisting painfully. Shoving the bag back in her backpack, she opened the bag of jerky, devouring its contents in an attempt to calm her growing hunger. Glancing over at her sleeping brothers, she watched as their chests rose and fell with their breathing, wondering what they were dreaming about. Finishing the jerky, she couldn't help but feel disappointed with the amount in the bag, but was happy enough that her hunger was calmed, if only for a while.

Shoving the rubbish in her backpack, she closed it up, preventing the smell from attracting any wildlife in the area. Full and warm, she couldn't stop the fatigue from setting in even more, her eyes closing momentarily before she forced them back open. Slowly, she lost the fight, and her eyes shut once more, the young woman lying down beside the fire and asleep before she knew it.

"Charlie, wake up!" A voice called out. Groaning quietly, her eyes opened up again, a deep frown on her face at being woken up. The annoyance she was feeling disappeared when her vision cleared, instead replaced with confusion as she slowly sat up, feeling a heavy weight on top of her, the weight slipping down to her waist. Glancing down, she realised that the weight was a blanket, a soft mattress underneath her replacing the cold, hard ground she was used to sleeping on.

"What the fuck?" she swore quietly, pulling the blanket off her as she swung her legs off the the bed, flinching when bare skin touched a cold wooden floor. When she finally looked around the room, she recognized it immediately. Soft cream walls, decorated with certificates and family pictures, she stared at one framed certificate. Her undergraduate diploma, she remembered getting that just before the apocalypse, recalling the party that her family threw afterwards.

Picking it off the wall, she stared down at it, confused why she was back in her old room. With it in her hands, she looked up at the curtains covering her window, standing up and, quickly, pulled them back, squinting as the sunlight poured into the small room. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she stared out at the surroundings outside her home, everything the exact same as it was when she was last there. She didn't know what to think, and when she placed her diploma back on the wall, she shook her head. "Was all that just a dream?"

She was relieved. All the things she did, all that she seen, and the dangers that her remaining family was in, it wasn't real. However, if none of what happened was real, then she didn't meet Samantha, and she most likely didn't know who Charlotte even was. Saddened by that, she jumped when she heard the voice call out again. "Charlotte María Davis-Hernandez, your father told you to get up five minutes ago!"

"Coming, mama!" she called back, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she made her way to the door, opening it to find Dylan standing there, his hand raised in an attempt to know on her door. Staring down at him, she placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair affectionately as she smiled. "Morning, buddy."

"You're in a good mood," he pointed out, fixing his dark locks as he quickly added. "You're usually a bitch in the morning."

Recalling the events of the last few days, she frowned slightly, her fingers reaching up to her cheek. No gauze could be felt on her face, her skin smooth and uninjured before she allowed her hand to fall back to her side, instead brushing it off when she noticed Dylan standing there confused. "I just had a weird dream, that's all."

"Oh, what was it about?" he asked, a bright grin on his face. "Was I in it?"

"Pretty much, yeah. It was nothing, just about the dead coming back to life and we were running away from some bad people. It was… unsettling how real it felt." She confessed, noting Dylan's eyebrow raising as she quietly added. "No smart comments. I don't even know why I dreamt that."

"Were you watching any zombie movies last night with dad?" he asked, his grin quickly disappearing as she pushed him out of the way, an annoyed grunt coming from him as he yelled after her. "Mama told you to stop pushing me around!"

"Mama's not here." She shot back, walking along the hallway towards the staircase. Stopping at the top of the flight of stairs, she stared at the family portraits hanging along the wall going down, continuing to stare at each one as she made her way down the staircase. They all detailed the years gone by, the family growing older and bigger with the picture at the top of the staircase showing Elizabeth, a young Charlotte and their parents, her father showing none of the grey hairs he developed later on in life. As she reached the bottom, she stared at the final portrait.

Both her and Elizabeth towered over their mother, a short, stout woman with tanned skin and black hair pulled into a tight bun, warm brown eyes squinted as she smiled. Her father, with his thick handlebar mustache neatly kept and balding head, was the only one taller than Charlotte and Elizabeth, his large hands resting on Dylan and Mason's shoulders. They were all smiling, happy, and her constricting heart made her realise just how much she missed them. Before she could allow tears to fall, she heard a familiar voice behind her. "You don't get to the kitchen quick, dad's gonna eat all of mama's pancakes."

Turning around, she stood there in shock, staring at the person in front of her. Elizabeth hadn't changed, save for a few scars missing on her face. The same mousy brown hair, sharp blue eyes, and slightly tanned skin matching Charlotte's own, she was definitely her sister. Without a second thought, Charlotte lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Elizabeth in a tight hug, resting her face against her sibling's shoulder. Staying like this, she listened as Elizabeth confusingly asked. "Erm, what's all this about?"

"N-Nothing." Charlotte composed herself, letting her sister go and letting out an awkward cough, rubbing the nape of her neck with a small grin. "I just wanted to do that."

"Okay…" Elizabeth trailed off, an amused smile on her face. Rather than stand there, her sibling started making her way to the door, adding quickly. "I gotta go change the oil on dad's tractor, before he blows a gasket over it. Come out when you're done with breakfast."

"You know I don't know a thing about changing tractors." She shot back, a frown on her face.

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, turning her upper body as she smirked, knowing that Charlotte was basically useless on the farm. "You're a student, aren't you? Learn."

And then she was gone. Charlotte stood there, arms crossed with an annoyed look on her face, before it slowly disappeared. No matter how much Elizabeth grated on her, she was just happy that her sibling was back, knowing what life would be like without her sister there by her side. Listening to voices coming from the kitchen, she turned around, walking down the hallway to the door leading into the room. Pausing, she inhaled deeply, calming her nerves before she pushed the door open, a nervous look on her face.

Immediately, the smell of cooking hit her, causing her stomach to growl loudly in want, and she found her mouth watering at the sight of steaming pancakes sitting in the middle of the large kitchen table. At one end of the table, her father was sitting there, a newspaper in hand as he skimmed through, a pen stuck on the top of his ear whilst he changed the page. By the sink, washing dishes, was her mother, her once black hair greyed and her face wrinkled when she turned to her daughter, her stern expression softening when she saw the nervousness on Charlotte's face.

"Don't look so scared, mija. I just wanted to make sure you ate before your father dragged you off hunting." She laughed, leaving the dishes to dry as she grabbed one of the chairs, pulling it back and slowly sitting down as she added, concern in her voice. "Dear, what's wrong?"

"No, it's n-nothing. Just bad dreams, that's all." Charlotte brushed off, sitting down slowly as she stared at the pancakes. It had been months since she had those, and she never forgotten how they tasted, grabbing some and placing them on a plate left at her seat, slathering some jam on them before digging in.

"I told you and all y'all friends not to watch scary movies before bed." Her father injected, taking a sip of his coffee with an amused smirk on his face.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him, pausing in her eating as she sighed loudly. "Cut me some slack, dad, I'm twenty three years old!"

"You know, when I was your age," her father started, earning a groan from Charlotte as she just kept eating, ignoring him as he continued to stare at his paper. "I was already married to your mother, and we were expecting your sister."

"If you want grandkids, I can call Daniel over right now and get started." She retorted, her mouth full of pancakes and jam. The joke caused her father to frown deeply, his daughter quickly adding. "Look, when I finally get the lawyer job I've been after, I can settle down. Won't be for another few years."

"Who's going to do all the housework if you're out in work all the time? Cooking, cleaning, taking care of the children?" Her mother asked, interrupting Charlotte when she tried to reply sarcastically. "I've seen Daniel try to fold his clothes. That man can't take care of himself, let alone a child."

"Mama, you don't give him a chance, that's why." Charlotte pointed out, finishing a pancake and recalled a particular incident between her boyfriend and her mother. "And if I recall, he did the washing just fine. You were the one who took all the clothes and washed them again, and you ironed them as well."

"I just wanted to make sure they were throughly clean, mija." Her mother explained. Charlotte just shook her head at that, continuing to eat her food in silence. Taking the hint, her mother sighed and returned to the dishes, leaving her daughter along to finish her breakfast. The sound of running water replaced any conversation, Charlotte watching her mother's hands scrubbing the plates clean, the soap being washed off by the water. Whilst she did that, her father finally finished reading the newspaper, folding it up and throwing it onto the table, leaning back in his chair as he continued slurping from his cup.

Finishing off her pancakes, she placed her fork and knife on the empty plate, taking it over to the sink and passing it to her mother, who took it wordlessly. With a raised eyebrow, she decided to just leave it be, making her way to the door again when her father called out. "Where you goin'?"

"Liz needs help changing the oil in the tractor." She explained, pausing at the door and turning back to the older man.

Shaking his head, he quickly stood up, the chair squeaking with the legs dragging across the floor, and made his way over to the grown woman. His large hand pressed against her shoulder, and she was forced to move aside as he rejected. "No, don't think so. Last time you worked on something, you crashed into the pig pen and almost killed Moon Dance."

"Elizabeth left the clutch on and you know it." Charlotte shot back, following her father out of the kitchen and back down the hall, ignoring the pictures on the wall whilst he moved to open the door, only to pause with his hand holding onto the handle. Standing there, Charlotte stared at his back in confusion, trying to alleviate the nervousness she was feeling as she joked. "You gotta turn the handle to open the door."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He sighed, before he turned around. "I'm sorry about your mother and I being so hard on you. We just wanna make sure y'all able to look after yourself when we eventually do go."

"Come on, you got some good years left in you." She joked, though the thought of her father leaving her again struck her deeply. She didn't want him to go, nor her mother or her sister. She just got them back. Standing there, she watched her father scratch his thick beard.

"I know your stay here is only short, then it's back to Houston, and you know I want the best for you… but I just wanna make sure you'll be here for your brothers. They look up to you, Mason especially." He explained, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door. "You're the reason he got that idea of going to medical school from."

"Don't worry, dad. I'll take care of them." She promised, smiling warmly as her father returned the gesture. Slowly, he stood up straight, turning back around to the door as he chuckled deeply.

"Alright, enough mushy shit. We gotta fix that tractor before Liz starts getting mad with the thing." He smirked, his hand reaching for the door handle once more. Charlotte stood closer to him, taking in his smell of his favourite deodorant, and when he opened the door, she was blinded by bright light flooding her entire vision. Eyes shutting tightly, she raised a hand to shade them from the blinding light, unable to see her father anymore. Suddenly, the light faded out, and she was left in darkness. Unsure where she was, she glanced around, walking along with a saddened expression on her face.

"I love you." She whispered, reaching up to touch her cheek once more. Rather than her smooth skin, she felt the soft fabric of the gauze taped to her face, realising that everything that happened was not just a dream. It was real.

Gasping, she sat up, feeling grass under her fingers and the cold hitting her full force, goose bumps appearing over her exposed skin as she rubbed her arms. Looking around her, she noticed that morning had come around, the sun peeking out from the tall trees towering over them, the darkness fading away from the sky above. Grunting, she slowly stood up, hearing fire crackling from behind her, turning her head to see her brothers tending to the camp fire, something cooking over it. Confused, she took a closer look, listening as Dylan explained. "We found and killed some crabs along the river. Dig in."

"Fresh meat. I haven't had any in so long!" Charlotte gasped, walking over to the campfire as Mason, eating a crab leg, passed her the jacket she left by the fire last night.

"It's dried. How come you didn't wake one of us to take over watch last night?" he asked, tearing the meat off the leg. Dylan continued to eat his food, though he watched with an annoyed expression on his face.

Taking the jacket, she sighed as she slipped it back on, zipping it up before she explained. "I fell asleep not long after you guys did. I'm sorry, I guess I was just so exhausted."

"No doubt, you were awake for two days." Dylan pointed out, throwing the crab shell away when he was finished with it. Charlotte just sat there, tucking into a crab that Dylan passed over to her, listening as he continued. "When you're done, we should head out. I saw some walkers when I did some scouting before."

"You left the camp?" she asked, pausing in her attempt to eat as she sighed. "Dylan, I know you wanna help, but it's dangerous out there."

"I was careful! I made sure no one saw me, and the walkers were distracted with something when I had to cross the highway." He groaned, shaking his head as he snapped. "I'm not arguing about this. Not now."

"I'm not trying to argue about it, Dylan. Did you see what the walkers were distracted with?" she asked, pulling off a crab leg and eating it quickly, eager to pack up and continue on their way. It was too dangerous to remain in one place for too long. Dylan appeared thoughtful, tapping his fingers against his thigh until, furrowing his eyebrows, he realised.

"I think it was survivors. Their truck broke down, and the walkers were surrounding them…" He paused, appearing unnerved with his findings, and Charlotte frowned, feeling suspicion creeping up on her.

"Dylan, what did you see?" she pressed, worried with how quiet he fell.

Breathing deeply, he calmed himself down, closing his eyes. After a few moments, he opened them again, and stared at Charlotte, worried and scared about what she'd say, before he finally confessed. "I think it was Logan. The group isn't far from getting us."

Panic set in. Throwing the crab away, she jumped to her feet, grabbing her backpack as, with a panicked voice, she ordered her concerned brothers. "Get your stuff ready. We gotta go now."

They jumped up. As she grabbed the shotgun left on the ground, her hand rummaged in her pocket for the car keys, pulling them out as she unlocked the car on the other side of the camp, hearing the car beep. Rushing over to the vehicle, she opened the back door, throwing her backpack in as her brothers, having packed everything, ran over. Mason dived into the back seat, watching in fear as Dylan got in the passenger seat, taking Charlotte's keys as she noticed a canteen having fallen out of her bag. Quickly, she ran over, picking it up from the ground, and moved to return to the vehicle.

That was when she heard groans. Freezing, she saw walkers shambling out of the woods, milky white eyes staring straight at her as they growled loudly, their intentions clear. Backing away, she felt her feet skim on the edge of the river bank, the dirt crumbling under her soles as she balanced herself, eyes trained on the walkers moving forward. There were too many of them to fight alone. She didn't understand how they could creep up on them without her hearing, but she didn't want to wait around for answers. Lifting the shotgun, she aimed at the closest one, when suddenly the car slammed into them, crushing some of the corpses under its wheels.

Confused, she saw that Dylan had gotten into the driver's seat, the passenger door open as he yelled to her. "Get in!"

Her legs moved on their own, no thought coming from her brain as she just ran for the open door, diving in as Dylan drove off, closing the door behind her to stop it being wrenched off by the trees they were speeding towards. Breathing heavily, she sat back, watching as they drove up the small path they found that led straight back to the motor way. The walkers were long behind them, their slow movements unable to keep up with the fast vehicle. Their car skidded across the tarmac, the wheels screeching as they tried to make a quick getaway, and up ahead Charlotte could see a truck rammed into the side of the highway, the walkers enjoying a feast from it.

Unnerved, she got a better look as the car drove by, her stomach churning when she saw a familiar face amongst the carnage. The little girl's face, who Charlotte recognized as Grace, was lying on the road, her eyes staring out in a permanent state of fear whilst the undead feasted on her organs, intestines being ripped out and consumed. None of the others seemed to have made it, Michelle, Nathan, they were all just corpses lying on the ground, waiting for the walkers to consumed them or to come back as one of those things. Charlotte was unable to look at the carnage anymore, turning away as Dylan kept driving down the road, dodging the cars and other obstacles that littered the highway.

"At least we don't have to worry about them finding us anymore." He pointed out, sounding unaffected by their deaths.

"You could sound even a little bit sad that they died like that." Charlotte sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her finger and thumb. "They were our friends."

"Yeah, were. Don't forget, they're the reason Sam's dead!" The young teen snapped, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he barely controlled his anger.

"That doesn't mean they deserved that! Jesus, Dylan, Grace was just as old as you were! She didn't have a choice in all of this, just like us! You saying she deserved to be eaten alive by those things?!" she hissed, feeling a headache come on.

Dylan didn't appreciate that, his head turning to glare at her as he yelled back. "That's not fucking fair! It's either her or us, and I'd rather have us survive than those murdering fuckers!"

"Guys, come on." Mason spoke up, concerned with how heated the argument was getting. "What happened was terrible, but we can't tear chunks out of each other because of-"

"Mason, stay out of this!" Dylan hissed, turning to face his twin with a scowl. "You always do this! You always take Charlotte's side in our fights, why can't you just stick up for me once?!"

"Dylan, eyes on the road!" Charlotte snapped, watching as he snapped his head back, eyes trained on the road whilst gritting his teeth. She wanted to end the argument there, she really did, but the anger and fear she was feeling just set her nerves on edge, and she finally exploded. "I know what your problem is! You don't stop and think about what your actions will cause, you just storm in like a bull in a china shop, no regards for anyone else! You think I like having to be the one in charge here?!"

"You fucking keep flaunting it! Ever since Liz died, you've been on my case! All I ever wanted to do, what I'm doing right now, is fucking help!" he shouted, turning to face Charlotte as he added. "Look around you, there's nothing for us out here! How do you even know if Aunt Abigail and Uncle Joe are even in North Carolina anymore?!"

"You were the one who fucking suggested going up there!" Charlotte retorted, recalling the conversation back at the pit stop.

"We gotta try. Even if they aren't there, we could try finding other people. People we can trust." Mason suggested, a worried frown on his tired face.

"Trust? There ain't nobody out here that you can trust! You want another Logan situation?!" Dylan scoffed, shaking his head whilst Mason flinched away, leaning back in his seat with a hurt expression on his face.

Watching this, Charlotte glared at the driver, her voice harsh as she snapped. "I agree with Mason."

"That doesn't surprise me." Dylan shot back sarcastically.

"If they aren't there, we should try and find people, a group. We're too vulnerable out here on our own." She explained, trying to calm the situation down as she sighed, her voice calm and gentle as she continued. "Look, I don't wanna argue anymore. I just want to have a plan so you guys are safe."

Dylan didn't reply, rather staring down at his hands with a saddened look, obviously worn down by the constant arguing and near death experiences since the beginning of the plague. Staring at him, she wondered how much more he can take, worried that eventually he would snap, and things will go downhill from there. Fixing her eyes on him, she tried to get him to talk, to open up, and asked quietly. "Dylan, you know I love you, right?"

Nodding, he listened as she continued. "I'm only being so strict with you because you and your brother are all I have left. I would do anything to keep both of you safe, and yeah, maybe I am still treating you as a kid, but that's because the last time someone I loved tried to be the adult, they died. Now, I gotta be the adult, so please, just trust me-"

"Look out!" Mason cried. Charlotte looked up, spotting the a walker that had stumbled onto the middle of the road, her hands moving on their own as she grabbed the steering wheel. Dylan yelled out in fright, trying his best to control the car as it slammed straight into the corpse, it flying over the bonnet and collapsing in the road, the vehicle swerving out of control.

"Charlie!" Dylan yelled, watching as she tried to control their car, hitting the brake hard in a vain attempt to stop them. The car screeched loudly, and Charlotte only saw the truck for a split moment before they plowed right into it. Everything went dark for a moment.

Slowly, the light returned to her vision, the back of her eyes aching as Charlotte groaned, realising that she was leaning against the dashboard. Sitting up, she rubbed her head, feeling a sting in her lip as she brought her fingers to them, feeling the knowing sign of blood as she pulled her fingers away, seeing them stained in the warm fluid. Everywhere ached. Looking up, she saw the front of their car completely smashed, the windshield shattered to pieces, and panic hit her straight in the gut. Glancing over at the driver's seat, she saw Dylan lying against the wheel, the sound of the horn going off as he pressed against the button.

"Dylan…" she whispered, slowly pushing him off the wheel and inspecting his wounds. There wasn't too much damage, the broken glass cut his cheek slightly, the blood dripping from the small wound, and his nose was bleeding, having been broken by colliding with the steering wheel. Cursing under her breath, she glanced behind her, noticing that Mason was sitting there, unable to move or speak from the shock, before he slowly managed to call out to her.

"Charlie, a-are you alright?!" he gasped, glancing over at Dylan. "Dylan! O-Oh, god!"

"We gotta get out, buddy. The noise will have attracted walkers, no doubt. Grab everything from the back, I'll get Dylan." Charlotte explained, opening the passenger door. Mason nodded, grabbing the bags and his map, shoving that and his walkman in his backpack before opening the back door. With him taking care of the supplies, Charlotte crawled over, grabbing hold of Dylan's jacket and proceeding to drag him from the driver's seat, grunting at the strain as she felt the headache pounding in the back of her head.

Slowly, she managed to get herself out of the car, dragging Dylan to the passenger seat, before picking him up in her arms. He was heavy, but she could manage for a while. However, once they were safely out the car, she noticed the hoard of walkers stumbling towards them, the undead coming from different directions. Backing up, she glanced down at Mason, who looking around, spotted an opening into the woods. Running in that direction, he called back to her. "This way!"

She followed. Both panting, in pain, and frightened of what would happen, they fled into the woods. Charlotte kept running, watching the trees pass by them and the crows calling out, eager for more dead meat to scavenge. She didn't know where they were going, instead just following after Mason as he ran ahead, seeing that the young teen was slowing down, exhausted from lack of good sleep and food. They couldn't stop. With danger lurking just behind them, they kept running until Charlotte's legs almost gave out, the young woman stumbling, clutching onto Dylan's body as she steadied herself.

Seeing his sister lag behind, Mason stopped, panting heavily, and made his way back to her side. Staring at Dylan in her arms, he quietly asked her. "Is he gonna be alright?"

"I-I… I don't know." She confessed, worried for the safety of her injured brother. "Either way, we can't stop here. There's a road up ahead, maybe we can get our bearings there."

"That's a good idea. Come on." Mason agreed, taking the lead whilst Charlotte followed close behind. Staring down at Dylan's unconscious face, she could see that his expression was calm, almost peaceful, and his soft breathing assured her that he still lived. Both of the conscious survivors were exhausted, their feet dragging along the leaf covered ground, the fallen leaves crunching under her thick boots.

The wind blew harshly, chilling both of them to the bone. Shivering, she watched as the road came closer and closer, worried about the unseen dangers there, and once they reached the outskirts of the woods they were hiding in, she stopped Mason. The young teen shared the same thought, warily peering out of the trees to see if there was any danger, ready to spring back into the safety of the woods if he spotted something he didn't like. Standing behind him, she couldn't see anything out there, and slowly, both of them creeped out of the woods, standing on the edge of the road whilst MAson placed his backpack on the floor, taking out his map.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked, staring at his map in confusion.

"There's no signs. If Mansfield is that way," Charlotte muttered, looking in the direction they came from. "That means we were travelling east, that way… Anything on the map that points east?"

"We were on the Interstate 20, and we went off that… Hmm, I think there's a small town along this road. We could stop there and rest." Mason suggested, placing the map back in his backpack as he added. "Give us some time to decide what we're gonna do."

"Come on, then." Charlotte replied, walking down the long road with Mason trailing after her, Dylan passed out in her arms.

The morning passed by, the sun beaming high in the sky by the time Charlotte spotted something in the distance. Abandoned construction vehicles were abandoned by the side of the road, the chain link fence having been torn down by walkers and the trailers that were behind them boarded up, bodies found lying on the floor as the small group passed by. On edge, she decided against resting there, feeling that somehow, those corpses weren't entirely dead. Rather, they kept moving, and walking down the road further, they passed by a construction site, the dirt upturned and the buildings half-finished, left by the builders once the dead started rising and eating people.

Glancing up at a large digger, Mason paused, and turned his head to ask his sister. "You think these would be good for squishing walkers?"

"I'd give my left arm for that steam roller. Watch any walker trying to ram us off the road." She joked, staring down at Dylan, the young boy still passed out. "I'm worried. He should have woken up by now."

By the look of Mason's face, she could tell that he agreed, and the worry she was feeling grew stronger, twisting her gut as she tried to lift his spirits. "Maybe he just needs some time. He did hit his head pretty hard."

"I'm worried. What if it's caused problems for him?" he asked, staring at his brother with a concerned expression. "We need to find somewhere for him to rest, at least until he's strong enough to keep moving."

Nodding in agreement, she turned around and continued walking down the road, Mason walking by her side. The silence was thick, neither one of them wanting to talk anymore. All Charlotte could do was replay the same moment over and over again, the sound of the car screeching and his brothers' yells clear in the back of her mind, the darkness that consumed her vision as the loud crash pounded against her eardrums. She just wanted the noise to stop. Quickly, she spotted a house in the background, a lone bungalow with the garden overgrown, the driveway clear of any vehicles or bodies. It would be the perfect place to stay put, if only for a while.

"Over there. You see it?" she asked Mason, staring at it whilst waiting for her brother's reply.

After a few moments, she heard him respond. "Yeah. I see it."

"A good place as any to rest. Let's go." With that, she broke out into a jog, eager to get inside and rest up. Her face was killing, the blood from her lip having dried by then, but she could only guess what infections were getting into it, unable to clean it with having to run from danger every five minutes. Reaching the end of the driveway, she glanced up at the boarded windows, her lips pulled into a thin line as she cautiously approached the front door, having Mason open it. He jiggled the knob, trying to push the door open, and could only sigh in frustration as he backed off, glaring at the door.

"It's locked." He pointed out.

"Shit. Alright, looks like we gotta find another way in." She groaned, glancing at all the windows. "They're boarded up tight. We ain't getting through that way."

"Let's check around the back." Mason suggested, starting to walk around the home. Charlotte followed after him, keeping a tight hold on Dylan as he began squirming, staring down to see him finally open his eyes. Quietly, she hushed his pained cries, her voice gentle as she whispered.

"Don't worry, buddy. We're gonna get you inside in a minute." Walking alongside the home, she looked up, noticing Mason rushing around the corner, and jogged to keep up with him, snapping at him. "Dammit, Mason. Wait up!"

Turning around the corner, she spotted him at the back door, staring at a back window likely leading into the kitchen. Noticing her approach, he turned to her, a warm smile on his face, as he pointed at the window. "Someone forgotten a window. It's open, but I can't reach it."

"Good job, Mason. Hang on, I'll boost you up." She praised, kneeling down so that she could prop Dylan up against the side of the house, unsure whether to leave him when he groaned in pain. However, they needed to get inside, and so she stood back up again, knitting her hands together as she instructed him. "Alright, place your foot in my hands and I'll boost you up."

Nodding, he approached her, placing his trainer in her hands whilst holding onto her shoulder for balance, both of them grunting as she lifted him up. Propping his other foot on the window sill, he grabbed hold of the window, his foot in Charlotte's hands being lifted as he hauled himself through the open window. Backing off, she watched as he slipped inside, his legs disappearing from view, and the window was closed behind him. Turning her attention back to Dylan, she picked him up in her arms, his head resting against her shoulder as she muttered to him. "Hang on, buddy. I'll get you inside."

Suddenly, she heard the latch on the back door unlock, walking up the stairs to it as Mason opened the door, a smile on his face. "Let's get in before the walkers show up."

"Thanks, Mason." She replied, walking into the home as her brother closed the door again, locking it up tight to prevent anyone else from getting inside. The kitchen was quite large, the table covered in a tattered blue and white checkered cloth, the dishes left on top with flies buzzing around, what little food left on them rotten. Grimacing at the smell, she elected to leave the plates alone, instead making her way out of the kitchen.

"I'm gonna see if the people who were here before left anything for us." Mason explained, staying in the kitchen whilst Charlotte nodded, looking at the other doors, seeing which one led to a bedroom. A half open one caught her eye, the adult survivor walking over and pushing it open gently, cautious in case there was anything in there. Peeking from behind the door, she noticed two single beds pushed against the walls, a bedside desk sitting between them with a knocked over lamp, the quilts dirty and unmade.

Walking over, she placed Dylan in one of the beds, kneeling down as she took off his shoes and jacket, leaving them on the other bed, before pulling the quilt over him. Slowly, she listened as he groaned. "W-What happened?"

"We crashed the car." She explained, resting a hand on the side of his head, her thumb stroking his cheek affectionately as she added. "You've been unconscious for a while. We were getting worried about you."

"Where… I don't understand. How did we crash the car?" he asked, appearing confused as he continued. "I don't remember anything."

"That's to be expected. Right now, you're gonna rest. I'll be back soon with some water and food." She instructed, standing up once more. Dylan nodded slowly, and closed his eyes again, eager to sleep some more to escape the pain in his head. Watching him quietly, she sighed softly, turning around to see Mason standing in the doorway, a bottle of water and a tub of something.

"Whoever left, they forgot to pack up all their meds. I guess crashing the car gave us something at least." He muttered, entering the room and making his way over to Dylan. Gently, he prodded his brother's arm, opening the medicine packet as Dylan opened his eyes again, watching as Mason explained. "I found some painkillers. They'll help with your headaches, here."

Sitting up slightly, Dylan took a swig of the bottle handed to him, before taking the pills from Mason and swallowing them, coughing slightly as his hand covered his mouth. Sitting on his bed, Mason just watched with an upset expression, unable to do anything to help his brother, and Charlotte couldn't stand there and watch it anymore, needing to leave the room before it got too much. Standing outside the bedroom, she listened as Dylan muttered something to his brother, who replied with something just as quiet. Slowly, she heard footsteps coming to the bedroom door, not sparing Mason a glance as he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

"I'm scared, Charlie." He confessed, looking up at her whilst adding. "Now that he's awake, that makes me feel better, but what are we gonna do if he gets worse?"

"I don't know. We just keep an eye on him for now, make sure he has everything he needs. What I do know is that we're gonna need to stay here until he's fit enough to travel." She pointed out, finally meeting Mason's gaze, both of them sharing a concerned expression before she turned around, opening a door that led into the living room. Walking inside, she frowned at how dark it was, the light from the day blocked by the boarded windows, though the light from the kitchen helped somewhat in highlighting the room.

Nervously, she walked in, feeling something crunch under her boot. Pausing, she looked down, picking up what turned out to be a picture frame, a photo of a family sitting behind the shattered glass. They looked like they were happy once, the father and daughter standing beside each other, the daughter looking just as old as Charlotte was, with blonde hair and striking greens eyes that matched the older man's. An older woman stood on the opposite side of the daughter, her ginger hair cut short into a bob, her own blue eyes squinted as she smiled brightly. Staring down at them, she wondered where they were, if they were even still alive, and just placed the photo on the mantelpiece over the fire.

Turning to the couch, she walked over and sat down, resting her head on her hand whilst Mason placed the bags on the floor, propped up against an old recliner. Opening it, he took out another bottle of water, taking a gulp of it before handing it over to Charlotte, the older woman drinking from it as he sat down in the recliner, leaning back as he finally asked her. "You think we're ever gonna make it to North Carolina?"

"I don't know, buddy. We can't stay here, though. You were right, back in the car, we gotta find more people to group up with. We can't stay on our own forever." She explained, placing the bottle on the floor by her feet before sighing. "If anything, I say we relax for now. I'll check on Dylan in a while."

Not replying, Mason just glanced into his bag, taking out his walkman and starting to place music quietly, eager to get rid of the uncomfortable silence between him and Charlotte. She didn't object, rather it was a welcomed distraction for her, and she just sat there, silently, listening to the music play softly in the background. She was tired, despite the sleep she had gotten. Rather, it was more of an emotional tiredness, her thoughts running quickly in her mind, and she prayed for some relief if only for a while. Out there, she wondered if there was people she could trust, understanding where Dylan was coming from, but she knew that eventually, she would run out of steam, and someone had to be there for her brothers.

There were good people, hopefully.

After a few days, Dylan had recovered enough that they could resume travelling, leaving the bungalow and the small town behind them, not before they scavenged all they could get from the place. Staring at the long road ahead, she wondered where it would take them next, knowing it would be a good two weeks before they reach North Carolina. She thought about the type of people they would run into, whether they could be trusted or not, but until she actually met them, she didn't know. Hopefully, Logan died on the road with the rest of her former group, but she had a suspicion in the back of her mind, she couldn't escape from her past, not that easily.

Either way, she would know what would happen when she reached her destination.

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

Operating on 3 hrs of sleep for the first time in ages

HUGE WRECK outside my house.  This is one of the bad things about living on an interstate.  The last one killed a busload of high school cheerleaders. :( Crews have been at it all night and they are so close it sounds like they are operating under my bedroom window.    We had a huge thunderstorm last night and  that kept me up a long time.  I fell asleep then woke up from some odd dream and it sounded like people were about to come in through my window.  All I could hear was “BACK IT UP!! OVER HERE!!”  I got up and looked and once again all up and down the highway all you could see were flashing lights and emergency vehicles.  That was three hours ago.  I’m still up, about to have some half caff coffee and try to deal with this last day since (THANK GOD) the kids are off tomorrow.   They’ve been ucontrollable all week. I’m not even bothering with lesson plans today, they’re getting math drills.  

[volpereborn]

ZooDystopia Chapter 3

Part 3

"Son….you have to promise me that no matter what happens…that no matter what you hear…you won't come out of this room…"

"Dad…I'm scared…what's happening outside…who are those people?"

"I know son…I know you're scared…but you have to promise me…"

"Dad…I…I…"

"You have to promise me son…"

"I promise…"

"I love you son…stay here…"

"Dad…Dad…DADDY!"

Nick woke up in a cold sweat. He was breathing hard and he felt like he was being held down. As he raised himself up he could see that in his sleep he had gotten tangled in his blankets. Pulling his paw out from his side, he brought it to his face and rubbed his eyes. "What the hell?" Nick asked himself, still shocked at his dream. Nick knew the answer though; this was not a dream but a memory and a bad one at that. Getting out of bed Nick brought himself to the bathroom. Throwing cold water at his face he looked in to the mirror. His fur was messed up and his eyes were bloodshot. Nick braced himself on the sink and took several deep breaths. Feeling calm now, he pulled off his clothing and stepped into the shower. He should never have looked at Happytown.

He could feel the water flowing from the top of his head and down his body. He could feel his paws rubbing into his fur. He could feel the water go down his throat as he tried to alleviate his dry mouth. He tried in vain to forget his dream but it clung to him like a heavy, wet wool coat, souring his mood. Nick cursed to himself. Why did he agree to see Finnick? Why did he think it was a good idea? Why did he have to look up? "...Dad..." Nick said aloud for the first time in ages.

Nick sat at his kitchen table; he had decided that it was best if he just forget about this morning entirely. Now in clean clothing but still slightly wet, he ran a towel over his head. A package of instant noodles was boiling on the hotplate and its constant bubbling was what Nick was focusing intently on. Nick's foot tapped on the floor, his other foot was shaking to the point of vibrating the table. With his eyes closed firmly shut he whispered to himself "Nothing happened…nothing happened…I am fine…I am OK…". Nick went over to the pot of noodles and with a spoon in hand he ate directly from the pot.

With keys in hand, Nick stepped out of the house and got into his car. He had this sort of feeling of emptiness in the pit of his stomach that his breakfast didn't fill. Putting his sunglasses on, he started the car and backed out of the driveway. Determined to get rid of this feeling, Nick decided to resort to other methods of comfort. There was a coffee shop down the street that had just opened up and offered a new type of coffee size for someone of his stature. Nick wasn't much of a caffeine drinker, that was more of Finnick's thing, but this time he decided to make an exception. As he drove down the street he noticed a large white van pass him by. It was only for a second but Nick swore that the driver of the car was scowling at him. He shook his head, "I must be seeing things," he thought as he brought up a paw to scratch at his neck.

Nick entered Snarlbucks and waited in line. The scent of coffee wafted through the store and the constant gurgling of the foam machine being used revealed the tell-tale signs of a long line. The whole of the store moved and shuffled in a way that reminded Nick of a video he had seen in school of how the body worked. Everything worked in unison. Every action had a reaction. Nick fell so deep into this daydream that he didn't even noticed that it was his turn. The cashier was a young panther woman with dyed fur and multiple piercings. As she took Nick's order, he could see that she had painted her shock collar with swirling designs that reminded him of drops of rain hitting water. Once again he had fallen into a daydream; the sound of the person behind him clearing their throat brought him back to reality. Standing aside, Nick shrugged his shoulders. He really needed this coffee.

Nick exited the store with his iced coffee in hand. Putting on his sunglasses, he took out his keys as he walked towards his car, which was parked on the street down the block. It was a warm day today in the Rainforest District and the humidity was at an all time high. Nick folded his receipt and used it as a little fan but it was to no avail. As he walked down the street he noticed a homeless ferret sitting in a side alley to his right. As he approached, the man held out a cup and asked "Can you spare some change for a man with a broken leg". Looking down, Nick saw that the man's leg was indeed crooked to a severe angle. He pulled out a dollar coin and tossed it into the cup. "Bless you sir!" said the ferret as Nick walked past him.

There are multiple beliefs when it comes to blessings. What they are, where they come from, and who gets them. In the whole of the city, amongst all the cars on the road, there was a fox that was blessed to be stuck in traffic...again. It was a familiar feeling, stagnation, but that was to be expected when you live inside a large city. Especially when your place of work is on the other side of the city. Nick took his paws from the steering wheel and rubbed his eyes. As his vision sharpened he looked into the rear view mirror. There, several cars down from him, was a large white van. That, in it of it's self isn't suspicious but what really got the fur on the back of Nick's neck to stand up was the scowling driver. This time Nick was able to get a good view of the driver. Sitting in the drivers seat was a wolf or at least it looked like a wolf. There was something odd with the way it's face moved that just seemed… odd.

Nick was in the middle of the city at this point. He had been driving for the past half an hour constantly looking over his shoulder. There was something off about the van and its driver, something unsettling. As Nick drove throughout the city, the van had been following him. When he turned left, the van turned left. When Nick turned right, the van turned right. When Nick went in a large circle filled with many twists and turns, so did the van. The feeling in Nick's stomach was back now and worse than before. He looked at his phone's map application and thought for a moment. "Let's see if I can't shake this guy" Nick said to himself.

Nick sped up suddenly and got onto the highway. As can be expected the van behind him followed. Never releasing his foot from the gas pedal, Nick bobbed and weaved though several cars, earning some car horns in the process. He then took an exit suddenly, almost wrecking his car in the process. Nick almost smiled to himself but was stopped when he saw the van still behind him. With a sharp breath, Nick steeled himself. He stomped on the gas and sped down the street. He had one last trick up his sleeve. Nick took a right and then a left and then another right. On the last right he drove down a side alley and turned off his car. He bent forward and then did his best to hide himself. Nick waited for a while, hearing multiple cars pass him bye. With his heart racing he pulled out his phone and made a call.

"Hey Nick, ready for work tonight?"

"Clawhauser listen to me! Something's not right, I've been driving around the city and someone has been following me."

"Wait, slow down. What's going on?"

"I'm hiding in an alley right now and I think I lost him but…I just don't feel good about opening tonight ok. Look just tell everyone to take the day off and don't open up today."

"OK but what should I tell Kozlov?"

"DON'T…tell him anything OK? He was just talking to me about something yesterday and I don't need him to pop a lung when he shouts at me for being tailed."

"What did he say?"

"It doesn't matter right now, just don't open tonight. Look I'll call you later OK and if I don't then...tell Kozlov."

"Ok Nick, be safe."

"Bye buddy" Nick said as he hung up.

Nick waited for ten more minutes and then he left the alleyway. The white van was nowhere to be seen as he drove down the street. Nicks heart continued to race, worrying about his problems with the van as well as the potential problems with Kozlov. As Nick entered the Rainforest District, he once again slowed down and turned on his windshield wipers. The familiar thump sound gave Nick a feeling of security. He was going to be home soon where he could hide and think about the situation. Nick drove up the driveway and parked. He hurriedly got out of the car and pulled out the key to the door. Before he could push it into the keyhole, he heard a voice behind him.

"Got any spare some change for a man with a broken leg?"

Before Nick could turn around he felt something sharp pierce the skin of his shoulder. From the point of entry, there was a feeling of expansion from it. Like someone was filling his body with warm water. Feeling his limbs turning into lead, Nick turned around. The last thing he saw before he fell to the ground was the ferret from earlier grinning at him, with a tranquilizer gun in hand.

Darkness…

Darkness..

Darkness.

Nick awoke when he felt his head hit something. He was groggy and couldn't see properly. His heart rate was quick and he could feel every single vain in his body pulse. There was something hugging his face tightly and he couldn't open his mouth all of the way. His hand and feet were outstretched in front of him and as his vision started to sharpen he could see that he was handcuffed. "Wha- th- fu- " Nick managed to get out before he fell asleep once more.

Nick woke up again but this time to a feeling of weightlessness. He opened his eyes to see what had become of his life. There were too large wolves that were carrying him though a storage facility. Nick took time to take in his surroundings. It was night already and the sky had taken the familiar yellow clouds that were stained by the lights of the city. Those clouds, however, were far away from where he currently was. Nick could feel his heart raise to this throat. Looking up he tried his best to memorize his captor's faces. The one carrying his upper body was a large black wolf and the one carrying his lower body was a grey wolf. As Nick was looking at them, he found something rather odd about them…they wore no collars. Due to their size, they carried him like he was nothing. Suddenly they stopped walking and the one at his feet knocked on a door. There was a moment of silence before the door was opened. They stepped in and took Nick down a dimly lit hall.

They went into a room to the side and placed him on a table. When they left they closed the door. Nick tried to move but he was still very groggy. He tried for a second to lift his arm but there was a very long delay until his arm actually moved. Nick moved his head and looked around. The room was sparse, with only the table he was laying on and a chair in front of him. The wall opposite to him had a large mirror on it, which he could only suspect was actually a window. Nick looked at himself in horror to discover that he had been muzzled. The adrenaline that filled his body gave him the strength to move his arms. He clawed at his face, trying to remove the accursed muzzle. Nick would have screamed if he knew that he wouldn't be shocked as a result. His actions were to no avail. The muzzle was not strapped to his face but was in fact bolted on, like the muzzles that prisoners wear. Feeling the onset of a panic attack, Nick took several deep breaths through his nose. His neck was itching like crazy but he was to nervous to scratch at the moment.

The door opened and into the room stepped a boar. His face was scarred and his right eye had an eye patch over it. He was wearing a very crisp suit that seemed like it was pressed to a knifes edge. The boar had a very small shiny name tag on it that said "Worthington". Mr. Worthington sat on the chair on the other side of the room and was quiet for a bit. Then he spoke.

"You've been a very naughty fox, you know that right?"

"Who are you?" Nick said with a semi muffled voice.

"Doesn't matter who I am, what matters is who you are Nick."

Nicks heart rate quickened.

"How do you know my name?"

"We know lots of things about you, like the fact that you work with certain undesirables and help them partake in... Hedonism!"

"Listen…if you have beef with Kozlov…I don't know him too well…I just work with him…I have no loyalty to him" Nick said. Maybe this man had some sort of grudge with Kozlov and wanted to use him to send a message.

"So that is a confession of wrongdoing?"

"What?"

"I think I've heard enough!" Worthington said. He reached to his pocket and pressed the button on his walkie-talkie "Send some boys down to pick up this predator. He's a dangerous criminal...so bring some tranquilizers."

"Wait! No! Stop!" Nick said reaching an arm out at Worthington as the boar walked towards the door. "What is this? Who are you?"

Worthington looked back at Nick, "Someone who likes his city nice and safe from scum like you" he said with a smirk. As the boar walked out, the thin wolf from before entered the room with a tranquilizer gun in hand. Nick tried in vain to escape but the strong paw of the wolf kept him pinned to the table. There was a pain on his neck and once again Nick succumbed the abyss of forced sleep.

Nick woke to having his head slammed into something. He raised his paw to his head and saw stars for a second. When his vision cleared he was shocked to see where he was. Nick was inside a bus, a prison bus. Surrounding him were mammals of all shapes and sizes, each on wearing a bright red jumpsuit just as he was. All of them were muzzled, just as he was. The bus lurched to one side again, and Nick looked to his left. They were nowhere near Fauna City or anywhere he knew for that matter. They were driving in the middle of nowhere. Nick tried his best not to freak out but he couldn't calm down. The only thing that was stopping him at this point from a panic attack was the tranquilizer still in his system. Nick sat back in his seat, closing his eyes, wishing this was all a dream. As he threw his head back, he felt something really cold on his neck. Reaching a paw up to it, he discovered that his regular shock collar had been replaced by a new one made of metal links. Though it didn't cause the trademark itch of the standard shock collar, this one was heavy and weighed his neck down. "Can this get ANY worse?" Nick thought to himself.

An hour later the bus stopped. Nick looked outside and saw that they were at a gate of some sort. The bus driver talked to the guard for a second before the guard let them through. The gate in front of them opened and Nick saw to his horror where the bus was destined. There down a long strip of graveled road was a large prison. Made completely of slabs of grey rock, with imposing walls and razor wired fences, was the prison known as Bombay Penitentiary. However, most people in Fauna City called it "The Pound". The bus stopped suddenly and Nick's face was thrown into the seat in front of him. The large elephant in front of him turned to give him a scowl but was interrupted by the doors opening.

They were taken from the bus to across the courtyard. There, they entered a building and stopped inside of a room that had a sign labeled "detention room". They were instructed to wait in this room while one by one they were taken into another room. Nick stood in this line of mammals nervously. He was the smallest in a room of elephants, wolves, bears, and bulls. Nick looked down at the chain that was connecting them all together. It was ice cold and in it he could just barely make out his reflection. He looked up and saw that he was next in line. The officer at the door called out his name and with that another officer unhooked him from the line.

In the room that he as brought in his was instructed to stand next to a height chart and hold a sign. As his picture was being taken the officer behind the cameraman called out "Nicholas P. Wilde, charged with larceny and the mauling of an innocent." As the second officer behind the cameraman wrote the information down, Nick's heart was racing. "What the hell is going on?" he thought to himself. The officer that brought him in escorted him to the door across the room. There they waited while the officer pressed the button on the walkie-talkie "We need an escort for one prisoner" the officer said. There was a moment of silence before the response was given "Copy that, we are sending you an escort now". The officer opened the door and they both walked outside into a large and spacious hallway.

The officer took Nick by the arm and cuffed him to the railing of a bench. He instructed Nick to sit and then started to scroll through his phone. As Nick sat on the cold metal bench, his mind was racing. "Oh shit. Oh fuck. I've been kidnapped and thrown in prison on false charges. What do I do? What do I do? What can I do? ". Nick was so focused on trying to process the current dilemma that he didn't notice that his escort had arrived.

"About time you arrive! I've gotten bored waiting for you!" said the officer.

"Have you gotten so lazy that you can't even take a prisoner to his cell or is it that you find yourself wanting an excuse to order me around?" Said a female voice. She sounded young, too young to be working here.

"I don't need to take this from you Hopps, just take the damn prisoner" said the officer as he closed the door.

Nick looked at his escort and was shocked to see not some tall brutish animal but actually a small gray rabbit. Her fur was soft with a splash of white hair on the top of her head that fell down between her bright blue eyes. On her tie was a badge that read "J. Hopps".

"Get up prisoner" She said as she un-cuffed him from the bench.

[tosybelle-blog]

The Boys of Summer, Chapters VI-X

Now it’s morning but last night’s on my mind There’s something I need to get off my chest And no matter what may come to shine The dream will always be mine 311, All Mixed up

Jeff

I hopped on an airplane as soon as possible after graduation. If I could have, I would have left directly from the ceremony and skipped all the celebrating bull crap. I didn’t think it would ever happen, but I was actually happy to leave California this time—to leave behind all the gossip and hard feelings and misery.

Plus, I was headed to Byron. It doesn’t get any better than that.

I was pretty quiet on the plane ride. There was this pretty girl sitting next to me in the middle seat. She was a brunette with long, tan legs and a tinkly laugh. She kept trying to engage me in conversation, and at first I’d tried to flirt back with her, but it was just too exhausting. After a while I just pulled out the photo of Byron and me on the beach in Ogunquit and introduced him as my boyfriend. Vanessa had snapped it our last night there, after he’d come out to the whole town by standing on a picnic table and shouting.

This is something for which I am very proud of him.

Anyway, after that the girl lost interest. I was able to stare out the window and not think for a while. I watched the landscape change from desert to mountains to plains before I fell asleep. I only woke up because the flight attendant was shaking me. Everyone else had already left the plane.

Ever since I hit my teen years, my mom has let me get my own luggage and met me on at the curb with her car. So I went through baggage claim and waited on the sidewalk outside arrivals. And waited. And waited. My mom is notorious for being late, but it was starting to get ridiculous, even for her. I was beginning to think that maybe she’d been in a wreck.

To pass the time, I started watching the other cars go by. There was this one beat-up blue Honda that kept passing. After a few circles, I started counting, but after the sixth go- round, I lost track. A short time later, the Honda pulled up at the curb a ways ahead of me. A short young man with shaggy brown hair and mirrored sunglasses stepped out of the car. I barely noticed because I was looking for my mom again.

“Jeff! Jeff!” Someone was calling my name. I looked around and saw the young man jumping up and down and waving at me. He took off his sunglasses and I squinted into the sunlight at him.

It was Byron.

He ran my direction and started talking a mile a minute. “Your mom had a last minute client meeting, so she asked Mary Anne to come get you. But apparently, Mary Anne’s husband’s car broke down but he didn’t tell her that he took her car to work. So Mary Anne was all in a panic…”

He must have taken Haley’s drug of choice. I just watched him lethargically as he continued to relay the whole story of how he’d come to pick me up. He was wearing a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a plain gray t-shirt that read “SHS Honor Society,” but he’d paired it with a dazzling smile. Byron’s so serious most of the time that you sometimes have to work to make him smile. But that just makes the end result all the more worth it.

The smile faded as he got a good look at me. “Jeff? What’s wrong?”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I simply held my arms out to him. Byron had picked up one of my suitcases, but he instantly put it down and took a few steps to me, returning the embrace. I put my head on top of his and we just stayed like that for a moment. Finally, I murmured, “God, I missed you.”

He didn’t laugh and tell me we’d just seen each other last weekend; he just pulled me closer. “Tired?” he asked. I nodded and he let me loose, picking back up my suitcase. I grabbed my other bag and we headed back to the car.

So it turns out that the Civic is the car Byron shares with his brothers and sisters. The interior was pretty much what you’d expect from a car driven by five teenagers. The floors were littered with fast food wrappers and other junk and the seats were covered in crumbs. The cup holders and the areas around them were sticky and the air smelled of stale cigarette smoke. I made a face and Byron grimaced. “Mallory,” he said in explanation for the smell. “She seems to think the rest of us don’t notice.”

Byron put the car into drive and carefully merged into the traffic leaving the airport. He’s a very cautious driver and he hugs the speed limit, but I don’t mind. If you think about it, letting someone drive you somewhere is putting your life into their hands. I don’t think there’s anyone else I’d trust quite as much as Byron in that respect. I closed my eyes and we drove quietly for a while.

After a while we were on the highway heading back to good old Stoneybrook. I opened my eyes and watched the familiar road go by. “So, how’s school been?” I asked.

By had put the sunglasses back on, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but there was no mistaking the wrinkled nose. “Same as ever, except we have a lot more stuff due over the next few weeks,” he said. He then checked over his shoulder, put on his turn signal, and changed lanes.

“And how about the other kids?”

He took a deep breath and turned to look at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road. Byron held the breath so long that I thought he might die. Finally, he answered softly in a puff of exhaled air. “They’ve actually been better than I expected. A lot of kids came up to me after the article was published and told me they thought I was pretty brave, and I’ve actually had two kids come out to me. But I’ve also gotten a few who want to quote the Bible at me and a couple notes stuck into my locker calling me things I’d rather not think about.”

I had seen ���the article.” A few days before, an envelope had arrived at my house, addressed to me. I didn’t recognize the return address although I knew who must have sent it; the name ‘Braddock’ on the address gave that away. Inside was a cut out newspaper article with a photo. Above the headline at the top of the page was a margin, where, in girly, loopy handwriting were the words, “Thought you’d like to have this. See you in a few weeks. Love, Hay.”

Quite frankly, the text was pretty much what I’d expected. It was a human interest puff piece, making something out of nothing. Byron and I went to prom together. The school hadn’t cared. The school district hadn’t cared. Most of the student body hadn’t cared. But someone at the newspaper cared and they’d written a story about it. Byron hadn’t wanted to talk to the reporter, but I’d answered a few questions.

I was beginning to wonder if this was a mistake.

I felt that way for several reasons. First of all, the story was pretty crappy and pointless. And second, I hadn’t even told my mom and stepdad I was going to prom with a boy in general or Byron in particular, and I know they must have seen the article as Richard reads the paper every morning without fail. The headline called us gay teens. I still don’t have a label on what I am, though most days I’m leaning towards bisexual. My dad didn’t react really well when I told him, and my stepmom just plain pretends I never said anything. I don’t know if, for Carol, it’s easier to play that I’m straight so she doesn’t have to deal with my dad’s unhappiness about it or if she’s just waiting for a definitive answer on my sexuality. If she is, she’ll have to keep waiting.

I was not looking forward to telling Richard I was dating a boy, but somehow I think him finding out from me would have been better than him finding out from a newspaper.

I changed the subject to something I knew would perk By up. “And how’s Haley doing?”

Sure enough, he smiled again. “Great! Getting together with Jordan has done wonders for her. She’s back to Happy Hay again.” He chuckled a little. “We got jobs working for the same place for the summer. She started a couple weeks ago and I start Monday after track practice.”

“Where’s that?”

Byron laughed again. “Girly Central. That’s not the real name, but that’s what Jordan called it when he found out where I was working.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “And what is Jordan doing this summer?”

“Bussing tables. Apparently, that’s good, manly, straight guy work.”

We looked at each other for a second and it was my turn to laugh.

***

I must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing I remember was waking up as the car came to a stop in my mom’s driveway. “Morning, Sleepyhead,” Byron teased, giving a lopsided little grin. He cupped my chin with one hand and leaned in for a tentative kiss. By always starts off very timidly with his kisses, as if he’s afraid that they won’t be returned. I met his kiss and pulled him farther toward me. He grabbed my waist and basically climbed over the seat so that he was able to reach me better. I ran my hands up and down his side, shucking his shirt up in the process. I eased my lips apart and his tongue gently entered my mouth.

Byron might be inexperienced, but he’s a fast learner.

We had been in the driveway for about five minutes when he pulled back for a breather. “I feel sort of exposed,” he said as he pulled his shirt back down into place.

I cracked up. He was wearing way more clothes than you would at the beach and we were surrounded by the house and garage on two sides and by a hedge on a third. By look wounded for a moment. “No, I’m sorry,” I said as I struggled to catch my breath. “I know exactly what you mean. We could go inside, if you like.”

He went from hurt to horrified in ten seconds flat. “Inside your house? When are your parents getting home?”

I thought about that. Both Mom and Richard are self-employed these days and they come and go throughout the day. I wasn’t anxious for Richard to come in while we were half dressed. Or worse.

Come to think of it, I didn’t particularly want to have Richard come in while By and I were playing Parcheesi, either. I needed to talk to him and Mom before I subjected Byron to them. “Yeah,” I said with a sigh, “Maybe not a good idea today. But I’ll call you tonight and we’ll make some plans, okay?”

He lit up. “We,” he said, sounding amazed. “I like the sound of that.”

I laughed again. “You’ve heard the word before.”

He grinned back at me. “Yeah, but I’ve never been part of the ‘we’ before.”

I opened my car door and he jumped out his side. “Get used to it, my friend.” I paused as he popped open the trunk. “Or should I say my boyfriend?”

By’s blue eyes shone. “Yeah. I like that one.”

***

I walked into the empty house with my bags. I left most of my stuff at the bottom of the stairs without walking through the house or looking around, and headed straight to my bedroom. I felt as if there was no personality in the room—the space did not say Jeff. When Mom had first moved in, I’d been ten. It’d been done up in superheroes. As I’d outgrown the heroes, they’d been taken down and I hadn’t bothered to replace them with anything. I’d spent as little time as possible at Mom’s in the last few years, so it hadn’t mattered. Now, I wanted this room to feel like home. Like a place I wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring my friends.

Friends. I kinda felt the way about that word that Byron did about ‘we.’ I had friends back in Palo City, but Risa and I had played the “yours and mine” game when we’d split. Seeing as I hadn’t been in the best mind set back them—it was about two months later that I ended up hospitalized—a lot of people had chosen her side over mine. I could say that I had made headway in reforming those relationships, but it was nothing compared to the ease with which I always slid back into my friendship with the triplets. Now I could add Vanessa and Haley to my list of friends, too.

I opened my duffel bag and dug among the items I’d taken on the plane with me for something in particular. One item that had been in the room all these years was a bulletin board. It was covered in blue paper at this moment and not much else—though there was a picture of me, the triplets and their brother Nick from the day we’d decorated the room, taken by my stepsister. I left that up and gathered my envelop of photos and a bunch of thumbtacks. Up went a photo of me and my sisters, taken the day Gracie was born. Next to that went a photo of Gracie taken a couple weeks ago. I added a picture of a few of my Palo City friends making muscle poses at the beach and a couple pictures from spring break: Haley sticking her tongue out at the camera and the triplets and I standing under the sign at the teen club in Ogunquit.

I stepped back to take a look at the room as a whole. It needed a color overhaul. Everything was tan and white, like my stepdad had picked it out. Which, come to think of it, he probably had.

I was mentally deciding the cheapest way to add some color to the room when the front door closed and Richard’s voice came through the house. “Jeff? Are you here?”

I opened the door to my room, which I had closed out of habit. “Yeah. Up here.”

He appeared in the doorway a moment later. “You made it home successfully, I see. Mary Anne called me all in a tizzy.” Only Richard would use the word ‘tizzy.’ “But I was in meetings all day so I couldn’t get to the airport. Who ended up picking you up?”

“Byron.”

“Ah, I see.” Richard adjusted his tie and looked at the ground, distinctly uncomfortable. “And is Byron your boyfriend?”

I shifted, feeling awkward. “You could say that.” I had, in fact, said that earlier that day. Twice.

Richard still seemed uncomfortable, but he looked me straight in the eye. “Okay, then. Here are the rules. They’re the same ones Mary Anne had when she was your age.” He began to rattle off a list of pretty standard dad stuff: no overnight guests, no curfew but call if I’m going to be home after midnight, no boys in my bedroom when no one else is home. To my surprise, the rules were less strict than at Dad and Carol’s.

I gaped at him. “You mean,” I began, with the sense that I’d missed something, “You don’t have a problem with me dating a boy?”

His eyes widened. “No. Why would I?” He looked bewildered. “Are you happy? Are you healthy? Are you following the law? Then you have my seal of approval.”

I wanted to hug him, so I did. I think that surprised him more than anything else.

***

I helped Richard make dinner while we waited for Mom. I fried up some eggs and Richard chopped tomatoes and shelled some peas. We made fried rice, which we divided into two bowls. One bowl was for Mom and me; in the other, Richard added fried pork. This was for him. Also, Mary Anne and her husband, whom I’d met twice, once at their wedding, were stopping by later that evening to catch up with me and to eat leftovers.

Mom was home on the later side that night. By that time, I was practically drooling over the food, which was slowly cooling in the fridge. She gave me a hug and exclaimed over how tall I’d gotten. She does this every time she sees me, although I think this time she’d forgotten that it had only been a week since the last time I was in Connecticut.

We sat down for a quick and pretty quiet meal. Mom asked me how graduation had gone. She’d wanted to go to the ceremony, but I’d told her not to bother. I hadn’t even wanted to go. Plus, when she had gone to Dawn’s graduation, she and Dad had gotten into a big argument that the whole family, both sides, had witnessed.

It hadn’t been pretty.

So she’d grudgingly accepted my request for her to stay away. I promised to show her pictures when I got them and told her the whole thing, overall, had been pretty boring. Richard saved me from squirming under Mom’s evil eye by talking about the case he was working, in as much detail as he was allowed to share. I’ve found that when Richard speaks legalese, I just need to smile and nod, because I don’t understand any of it. I once made the mistake of asking him to explain something, but the explanation was even more confusing than the original statement, so I’d never done that again.

After we ate, Mom went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. I helped Richard clear the table and when we were done, I followed Mom to her bedroom. The door was open and she was in the master bathroom, brushing her teeth. I sat on her bed, waiting for her to come back out. She did a moment later, and she jumped when she saw me sitting there. “Jeff,” she gasped, “You scared me witless.”

If it had been anyone else, I would have told them they didn’t have any wits to begin with. Sadly, with my mom, sometimes I think it’s just a little too accurate, so I bit my tongue. Instead, I stretched out across the bed as Mom “tidied” things by moving items on her dresser around. After a moment or so I finally spoke up. “Mom, about prom…”

She smiled at me. “Did you and Byron have a good time? I saw your picture in the paper.”

Something was off here. This was not the response I was expecting. It was as if Mom and Richard had been replaced with alien lookalikes or something. Dad had been all rude and sarcastic about me dating a boy, and By’s parents had gone all concerned when he’d come out to them. “Um, yeah. We did,” I stammered, trying to figure out how to broach the subject in the way I wanted.

Mom turned around to face me. “I’m so glad. It’s good to see you happy again.” She sat down on the end of the bed. I was lying on my stomach with my head propped up, facing that way. “I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me you were going with Byron in the first place,” she said as she smoothed the quilt out in front of her with one hand.

Ah. That wasn’t the way I intended to broach the subject, but it worked. “I didn’t think you’d take it well,” I said, looking at everything but her.

Mom stared me down. “And why not?”

I shrugged. Even though I had wanted to get this conversation over with, it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable discussion I’d had all day. I’d had an easier time talking to Richard, for crying out loud. “Well, Dad didn’t take things well,” I began, “And I didn’t really have any answers for you. To questions you might ask, I mean.”

She looked alarmed. “What kind of questions?”

“You know. ‘Are you gay?’ ‘Is Byron your boyfriend?’”

Mom relaxed. “So you have no answers to those questions?” she asked.

I finally looked at her. “Sorta. I have no definitions for myself. My doctor says that’s okay, and that I don’t need to rush into a label if I’m not sure.” She nodded, urging me to go on. “And when you agreed to purchase some tickets for me, I would have said ‘no’ to the second question. But now….”

Mom rubbed my back, the way she used to when I was small. “Now you can say yes.” I nodded. “I know you’ve been having a tough time the last year or so. And I think anything that is going to help you be closer to the young man you were—stronger, maybe more self-aware—is a positive step in your life, and I support that.”

I turned back toward her again. “Why can’t Dad feel that way?”

Mom made a face, and after a moment I realized she was biting her tongue, both literally and figuratively. “I think your father is just uncomfortable with not knowing. He’s always preferred specific facts.” She sighed. “Maybe this is one time where it is best for you to just give each other some space. Give your father some time, and maybe someday you’ll have a few of the answers he’s looking for.”

I furrowed my brow. “Richard said he was okay with me and the way things are, but he also seemed really uncomfortable. I’m not going to run into problems with him, am I?”

She chose her words carefully. “Richard and I talked things over after that piece appeared in the newspaper. I don’t know if he’s…happy…for you, but he respects your right to date whoever you want. You won’t have an issue with him.”

That sounded strange. “Then why did he have such a hard time talking to me about it earlier when he gave me the rules?”

“I think,” Mom said with a small laugh, “he was a bit afraid of laying down the law for you. Dawn always had a problem with him setting boundaries with her when she was your age, and it became an ordeal after a while. I think he was just afraid you would follow in her footsteps.”

Before I could reply to that, the front door opened and a voice called out, “Hello! We’re here!” It was Mary Anne and Pete.

Mom looked at me. “Ready to go downstairs and probably answer some more questions that you don’t want to answer?”

I smiled. “Lead the way.”

 So no of course we can’t be friends Not while I still feel like this I guess I always knew the score This is where our story ends Garbage, Cup of Coffee

Adam

This had been the most awkward cup of coffee I’d ever drunk.

When I’d arrived at Starbucks a few minutes after seven on that Thursday, Tiffany was already sitting at a table. She had the largest size of some iced drink in front of her, but she wasn’t drinking it. She was staring off into space and there was a paper napkin in front of her. Most of it was torn to shreds and she held the last little piece in between her fingers. “Tiff?” I called after I ordered my drink.

She looked up at me. In most ways, she looked the same as she had when we’d broken up three years before. Her hair was a little longer and her bangs a little shaggier than I remembered. The makeup was a little heavier, too. She wore a turquoise shirt that was so long sleeved that all that showed of her fingers were her fingertips with bright orange fingernails. Tiff had paired the shirt with a pair of extremely short white shorts. I’ve never understood why girls do that—wear tiny little shorts with long sleeves. Don’t their legs get as cold as their arms?

Back to Tiffany, though. Even though she looked good from a distance, I could see that not everything was alright. It wasn’t just the shredded napkin or the way one of her knees was shaking in a jittery way, like she had too much energy or nerves. What really gave me the hint was when she finally smiled at me and answered. “Hey, Adam,” she said, but she didn’t really look happy. The smile was brief and only hit her mouth. Tiff’s eyes were sad and tired.

I got my drink and joined her at the table. She watched me sit but didn’t say anything. “So…how are things?”

Tiff shrugged but stayed silent. I took a sip of my coffee and tried to come up with a topic of conversation. I mean, I didn’t know what Tiffany was into these days. When we’d dated, she’d been huge into gardening, to the point when there were times I’d kiss her just to shut her up on the topic. I decided to take a stab at it. “Still gardening?”

She shrugged a second time. “I won a couple awards last year at the county fair. But this year I’ve been so busy with school that I didn’t have a chance to plant.” For the first time since I walked in, her expression changed and she looked regretful. Ugh. Subject change time.

“So, you go to Stoneybrook University?”

A head shake. “No, the community college.” Tiff went back to twisting the napkin.

“Oh.” I didn’t have a reply to that that wouldn’t come out as condescending, so I took another sip of coffee.

She looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “What about you? Where are you headed next fall?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Ohio University.”

“Ohio?” Tiff had finished shredding the napkin, so she dropped the confetti that was left over and played with the straw in her drink. “What’s so interesting in Ohio?”

“They have a business program. I’m hoping to get my MBA eventually.”

“Oh.” It was her turn to not know what to say.

We sat there looking at each other for a while, completely awkwardly. Tiff actually reached across the counter and grabbed my napkin and started shredding that.

I was getting ready to find an excuse to leave when Tiff spoke up. “Well, this is really awkward, isn’t it?”

Well, what could I say to that? It was true. I started laughing. Tiffany looked surprised for a moment, but when she realized I wasn’t laughing at her, she smiled for real, looking more like she had back in the day. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

I shook my head at her. “No, no, don’t be sorry,” I said, picking up my coffee again. Now that the ice was broken, I decided to go for it. “I came out for coffee with you because you sounded like you needed a friend when you called. Why don’t you tell me what’s up?”

I expected her to be defensive. Instead, she just sagged. “Where to start?” she asked. She picked up her drink and, for the first time since I sat down, actually took a sip. “Dad cheated on Mom, so she kicked him out. I never see him anymore, and she’s so busy that when I see her, she just barks orders at me and doesn’t actually talk to me.” I nodded. “I think I flunked algebra. I have no friends. My garden’s ruined. My boyfriend cheated on me…” she faded out.

I was a little surprised at the litany of woes. Life in the Kilbourne house always seemed like it was a little bit dysfunctional, but this was something else. “Wow,” was all I could think of to say.

She smiled another half-way smile. “I know, right?”

I looked at her orange fingernails as she resumed tearing the napkin. “What about your sisters?” I asked.

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “What about them? Shannon’s still the perfect daughter in every way. And Maria’s still super swimmer, plus she’s got this whole other group of friends from some club she joined at school. They don’t have time to talk with me.”

Here’s what you need to realize about Tiff’s sisters. They’re always really super busy. They got so thoroughly into their activities because things were so bad at home; I could tell that back when I was dating Tiff, and Maria even actually said so once. She was only about twelve or so at the time.

But to me there was more to Tiff’s statement than that. She reminded me of something Byron had said once. I’d actually been getting ready for a date with Tiffany at the time. Jordan had just left with a group of our friends.

Byron was sitting on the couch in the living room, sulking with a book when I’d come down to wait for Tiff. Mom and Dad had gone out for the night, and Vanessa (who was still in middle school and therefore still “normal”) was babysitting Claire.

Byron made a sound that was close to “harrumph” when I sat down. “What’s eating you?” I’d asked him.

He closed the book, which he hadn’t been reading anyway. “Everyone just went to hang out without me.”

I knew what he meant right away. Over the past couple months, ‘our friends’ had gone from meaning ‘the triplets’ friends’ to ‘Adam and Jordan’s friends.’ Some of the guys didn’t really like hanging out with Byron much those days. In a few cases, it had a lot to do with Dan Reiber and the trash he liked to talk. Freshman boys aren’t exactly known for their maturity. But most of the guys just thought he was kinda weird. He was quiet at school, and he would just sit and watch conversations instead of joining in. I knew that he was just taking things in and processing them, but some people found it a little creepy.

I turned to Byron, who looked both irritated and a little sad. “Well,” I began, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible, “when was the last time you invited any of them to do anything? Do you ever call Scott up and ask if he wants to come over? Or Robby or Shane or anybody?”

He grimaced and I could see I’d made my point. “Okay,” he said, “I get it.”

The doorbell rang and I jumped up. “It’s Tiffany,” I explained as I started toward the door. Byron had picked the book back up. I moved to continue our conversation, but Tiff leaned on the doorbell and there was no keeping her waiting. I left, regretting the things I hadn’t said.

I came back to the present and looked Tiff over. She looked as if she were moments from crying. "I bet,” I said slowly, “if you made time to talk to Shannon or Maria, they’d be willing to listen to you.” She rolled her eyes again and then rubbed her right sleeve across one eye, trying to stop the flow of tears. “Even if they don’t have time for you, I’m here. We can be friends, right? Having a friend would solve one of your problems.”

Tiff did one of those teary laughs that girls are so good at. “Oh, sure,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve got nothing better to do than sit around with your ex-girlfriend and listen to her cry.”

I reached across the table and put a hand on top of one of her jittery hands. “I’m here right now, aren’t I?” I asked. “And what are we doing now?”

Tiff pulled her hand back. “Okay,” she said, sniffling back a few more tears, “but can you really picture me hanging out with the rest of your friends?”

I stopped and actually tried to follow through with that. I thought about sitting in the pizza place with a group of my friends from the baseball team. There were usually several girls with us, and I was picturing one of them reaching over and touching Tiff’s top and asking her where she bought it, with Tiff laughing and the two of them blathering on about shopping afterward. I pictured her sitting on the couch watching TV with me and some of my brothers and sisters, everyone arguing over what to watch next and Vanessa throwing popcorn at the others, while Tiff decorated Vanessa’s hair with kernels of popcorn in return. I also imagined her sitting in the backseat of the car when I drove somewhere with Byron and Jordan (and maybe a few other people crammed in), making jokes and being a backseat driver. I didn’t see any reason why any of it couldn’t happen. “Sure. Why not?”

Tiffany looked surprised. She picked up her drink and toyed with it some more. The expression on her face gave away an internal debate, but I couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. Finally, she stood up and tossed her drink in a nearby trashcan, even though it was still mostly full. I stood up slowly and watched her as she swept most of the napkin confetti into one hand. I thought she was going to walk away without another word, but she turned back to me after she dumped the paper into the trash. “Walk me to my car?” she said.

For some reason, she’d parked four blocks away. I felt like we were halfway to her house by the time she stopped in front of a car, jiggling a key ring on one hand. “Adam?” she began before she unlocked the door.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For everything.” Tiff reached over and kissed my cheek. I stopped her before she could pull away, putting a hand on each shoulder. Before I realized what I was doing, I pulled her back in for a kiss on the lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but that was plenty.

I let her go and looked at her, wild eyed. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

She smiled, looking legitimately happy for the first time all night. “Don’t be.” She grabbed the key fob and unlocked her car, opening the door behind her. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” she said as she sat down in the car. I watched as she put the key into the ignition. Before she started the car, she rolled down the window. “See ya, Adam,” she called as she drove away, leaving me on the sidewalk, not sure what had just happened.

 It seems to me I could live my life A lot better than I think I am Rush, Working Man

Jeff

About a week after I arrived in Stoneybrook, Mom came home early and we went out shopping for bedding and accessories for my bedroom. Mom had been thrilled when I asked, I think because me redecorating meant I actually planned to spend enough time there for it to be worth it.

I had planned to just go to Wal-Mart, but Mom wouldn’t hear of it. She’s working as an interior decorator these days and I think she thought it would be the end of her career if someone found out her son’s bedroom was done up in Wal-Mart style.

So instead she took me to some bedding store in a new shopping strip that had sprung up since the last time I’d spent the summer in town. We’d headed straight to the comforters, where I’d picked out one in navy and burgundy rugby stripes. Mom had found a couple sheet sets and all the other bedding pieces that apparently are necessary, although I’ve never quite understood why someone needs a bed skirt or even quite what a euro sham is.

On the way out, Mom made me pick up a job application. She went into a couple of clothing stores in the area to do a little shopping and I sat outside and filled out the application while I waited. When she didn’t reappear after half an hour, I went ahead and turned the application in. Apparently, bedding and kitchen supplies is a big business. I got an instant job interview, left the store with a job in the receiving department.

And so I arrived at Kitchen & Bath at one in the afternoon that Saturday for my job orientation. The store was crazy busy, but I had been instructed to head to the customer service counter and introduce myself. The girl working the counter was a tiny blonde named Helen. I waited until she was not with a customer. “Hello. I’m here for orientation.”

She smiled. “I’m expecting a Lindsey and a Jeff,” she said, pushing stray hairs out of her face. “You must be Jeff.”

I smiled back. “Yup.”

“Well, I’m Helen, in case the name tag didn’t make that clear. I’m the front end manager. I’ll actually be running your orientation.” She glanced at her watch. “You’re a few minutes early, but in my book that’s a good thing. One of the cashiers is going to be running the counter for the afternoon, but he’s not back from lunch for about five more minutes. Why don’t you look around and I’ll call you back up here when he’s back and Lindsey’s here?”

I didn’t really want to look around; I was afraid of getting forgotten, quite frankly. Instead, I headed around the corner and started looking at bridal greeting cards. Who knew there were so many different reasons to get a card for someone getting married? I got tired of that after about two minutes. I came around the corner from behind the cards, planning to look at the merchandise next to the customer service counter and I ran smack into Byron.

He looked surprised, but in a good way. “Hey, Jeff! What are you doing here?”

Before I could answer, Helen came around the corner with a sturdy, tall girl with dishwater hair that I guessed must be Lindsey. “Byron, good timing! I’m just about to start orientation. Lissa will be joining you up here in half an hour, and Morgan will be in to relieve you at five.” I gaped as she talked to Byron like an old friend…until I realized he was wearing a Kitchen & Bath nametag. This must be what Jordan called Girly Central.

Helen barreled on, not noticing my surprise. “Have you met Lindsey and Jeff? Lindsey’s taking over Hay’s old spot in towels, and Jeff’s in receiving.”

Byron smiled at the other girl. “Nice to meet you, Lindsey,” he said.

Helen eyed him critically. “You and Jeff already know each other?”

I grinned. “You could definitely say that.”

By ducked his head and I knew he was blushing as he rubbed his hand across his forehead. Before I could say any more, he looked over my shoulder. “Customers waiting. I’ll call if I need backup.” And with that, he scurried away.

Helen looked at me oddly. “What’s with him?” she asked. “Never seen him behave like that before. There’s a good reason that he’s only been here a week and I’ve already got him running the counter. You guys good friends?”

It was my turn to blush a bit. “Yeah. You could say that,” I repeated.

Lindsey looked around as we walked down the aisle toward the back of the store. “Whoa, bride central,” she said as we walked into a large area full of fancy dishes and gifts made of breakable materials.

Helen beamed. “This is our new fine table department that we just opened a few weeks ago. Our bridal consultants work out of here. Most of them are on the older side and have been married for a while, although there are a few exceptions.”

It was then I discovered how big of a loudmouth that Haley can be. She came barreling out of nowhere and enveloped me in a big hug. “Jeff! Are you here to see your sweetie?” Hay let me go. While most of the employees were wearing jeans, sneakers and casual shirts—even the managers like Helen were in relaxed attire—Haley wore a pair of pinstriped pants, black shoes and a white blouse. Her name tag said ‘Hay.’ “He just got back from lunch and I think he’s working customer service for the rest of the day, but I bet you could get a chance to say hi if you stopped by up there…”

Haley suddenly realized that Helen and Lindsey were staring at us; she quit smiling as Helen stepped forward. “Hay? Don’t you have a bridal couple to attend to?”

Haley backed away. “They’re taken care of for the moment,” she said, almost meekly, but when Helen didn’t stop staring at her, she continued to back up. “Maybe I’ll just go check on them anyway…” Hay added, almost running off.

Helen diplomatically pretended she hadn’t heard anything Haley said. She continued giving Lindsey and me a tour of the store as we headed back into the room for orientation. We got into the back room and Helen had the two of us take a seat and start filling out employee paperwork. “I’m going to get you two name tags and lockers while you’re working on those. Let me know if you need anything.”

Almost the second Helen left the room and the door closed behind her, Lindsey looked up from her papers. “That guy at the customer service counter…was he your boyfriend?”

I didn’t stop filling out my forms or look at her. “Yup.” I could feel her eyes still on me so I gave her more information, knowing she wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. “He only started work about a week ago and I didn’t know he was working here. This was just the first place I applied.”

Lindsey went back to her papers but had a thoughtful look on her face. “You know, he looked really familiar,” she said. “I lived in Stoneybrook until a couple years ago and I feel like I’ve seen both your boyfriend and your friend before. Name Byron sounds familiar too.”

“Hmmm.” I said, noncommittally.

Before Lindsey could go on, Helen returned. “Almost got those done? Good! When you’re finished, put on your name tag and I’ll start you into the boring videos…”

***

At five, we got a lunch break—although I’ve never understood why they call it lunch at dinner time. Lindsey and I got to play with our lockers for a few minutes before we clocked out, trying to get the combinations to work. I was having a little trouble with mine, because it felt like someone had stuck gum in the mechanism. After Lindsey left, I was still trying to get mine to open when a wave of people came through the door, getting ready to go home. Haley was near the back of the pack. She snuck up behind me, though I’m not sure on purpose. “Need some help with that thing?” she asked, making me jump.

“Geez, Haley,” I wheezed, “Is today Give Jeff a Heart Attack Day? Or is it Make Jeff Die of Embarrassment Day?”

She blushed a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were here for orientation. Why didn’t By tell me you’d gotten a job here?”

“Because he didn’t know. I also didn’t know you two worked here.”

Haley smiled a bit. “Okay, then. I am sorry, you know. But I guess now we’re even for that time back in Ogunquit.”

I remembered how I embarrassed the hell out of her by telling everyone she’d been making out with Jordan. “Oh, yeah.” I finally got the lock to pop open. “Success! Has By come through here yet?” The room had cleared out, but I hadn’t seen him.

Hay shook her head. “I think Morgan’s late again, and he can’t leave till she gets here or someone else relieves him. Why don’t you go clock out and I’ll treat you to dinner? We’ll eat with you before we go home.”

I stopped in the doorway to the break room. “Two more things.”

She didn’t look up from her own locker. “Shoot.”

“Why does your name tag say Hay?”

Haley looked at me over her shoulder. “There are already two other Haleys, and they don’t call them by their last names or by first name-last initial. They go by spelling. I didn’t want them spelling my name every time they needed me, so I asked that everyone just call me Hay instead.”

I nodded. “Okay, makes sense. So what’s the deal with Helen? She seemed really nice until we ran into you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That,” she said with a sigh, “is a much longer story. Over dinner? At Papa Sandwich? You ever eat there? You’ll love it; they put sprouts on all their sandwiches. Jordan is working tonight, so I need time with the boys.” Haley looked reflective for a moment. “The other boys.”

I grinned at that. “I’ll meet you and Byron up front in a minute.” Before I wrote my time on the clock in sheet, I thought about Kitchen & Bath for a moment. I’d only been working there for four hours and I’d already run into a hornet’s nest full of drama. The real question was whether By and I working in the same store was going to be an issue.

I clocked out and headed to meet my friends in the front of the store.

 Can you remember what you’re looking for Was it the answer of love? Can you tell me where you’re coming from Protect the naked life Mob Rules, Unknown Man

Vanessa

I was sitting in the waiting area of the department of motor vehicles, waiting to take the driving portion of my license test. I had just turned seventeen a few days earlier.

I was scared shitless.

I had been waiting alone for about ten minutes when he showed up. Dad has some goofy-ass rules, and one of them is that, if you’re old enough to get your license, you’re old enough to do everything that is involved in getting the license all by yourself. It actually kinda makes sense from a dad point of view. But, while I generally don’t really look to my parents for much, I’d almost had the urge to yell, “Daddy, don’t go!” when he walked out of the DMV.

Almost.

So enough about my dad. I have to tell you about this guy. I didn’t even notice he had sat next to me at first because I was too busy doing shit like trying to remember which one was the blinker and which was the windshield wiper on my dad’s SUV. I was looking down at my hands while I was thinking and suddenly this face appeared in front of me and surprised me. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he asked.

I jumped, and it wasn’t just because he’d scared me. I mean, yeah, that was part of it. But the other part was he was absolutely gorgeous. Haley, back before she started hanging out exclusively with gays, would have called him Hottie McStudly. He had an olive complexion, with dark hair and eyes. His eyes were set just the right distance apart and they danced as he spoke. He had an easygoing expression and you could tell from the little lines in the corners of his eyes that he smiled a lot. And his mouth…well, let’s just say that I wanted to kiss him and I didn’t even know him. He could have been a lip model if such a thing existed. Not only were his lips luscious-looking but they were unchapped and much more manicured than most boys I know keep theirs.

I’m starting to babble, but I just want to make sure you understand how good looking this guy was. I had to seriously double check and make sure I wasn’t drooling before I answered him. “Um,” I said helpfully. I swallowed and gave him a more coherent response. “I’m sure we haven’t met, because I know I’d remember you.”

Mystery Guy raised an eyebrow to that one. “I think you’re wrong,” he replied.

I stared him down, trying to recognize him. “Maybe,” I said slowly, “I’d remember where we’ve met if you told me your name.”

He began to look mischievous, and the expression suited him. “Nope,” he said firmly. “It’s way too much fun, watching you squirm as you try to figure out where you’ve seen me before.” He snapped a rubber band around his wrist and I got a good look at his clothes for the first time. He wasn’t wearing anything spectacular, just a t-shirt in dark green and a pair of camo pants. I’d never thought much of camo before, but suddenly, it was my new favorite thing. The guy spoke again. “As for me, I may not remember your name, but I do know where we met. And no, I’m not going to tell you that either.”

I rolled my eyes at him, trying to pretend I wasn’t that into him anyway. He grinned back and shifted one leg up onto the other knee so that his toe was pointed at me. “This your first time taking the test?” I nodded. “It’s my third. I keep fucking up the driving part. My dad told me…” He put on his best stern Dad expression and although his voice was already pretty deep, he made it deeper. “…‘You screw up again and you have to wait another year before I let you take the test again.’ I’m not really that scared, because he loves to threaten and then not follow through. And even if he does actually keep his empty threat, I’ll just get my mom to take me instead.”

My eyes were pretty wide by that point. “You’ve failed three times?” I asked.

The guy got indignant. “Not three times! No, I’ve failed twice. If I fail again, it’ll be three.” For a moment he got deadly serious and I could see that he was actually worried he might not pass again this time.

I wanted to offer some words of comfort. I wanted to say something soothing. Hell, I would have even settled on asking for his phone number so I could call him and find out how it had gone. But before I had a chance, a woman came out of a back office. “Vanessa Pike?” she called. I jumped up.

The guy looked triumphant in learning my name. “Good luck, Vanessa Pike,” he called, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

I turned back to the guy and opened my mouth, ready to speak, but the woman spoke up again. “Miss Pike,” she said impatiently, “I haven’t got all day.”

I took a deep breath and followed the woman. When I met my dad an hour later, I had my license in my wallet. “Did you get it?” he asked.

I was still thinking about Mystery Guy. “Nope.”

Dad furrowed his brow. “Don’t worry. We’ll practice some more. You’ll pass next time.”

I shook myself out of my boy-induced haze. “What?”

“Your license. I’m sure you’ll pass the second time.” Dad looked at me like I was nuts.

I opened my wallet and flashed it at him. “What are you talking about?”

Dad raised his eyebrows. “What are you talking about, Vanessa?”

I shook my head. “I think,” I said, “that you’d rather not know.”

I just had to find that guy again.

 Now that I’m filled with emotion you’re dispassionate You only live for yourself while I live to regret But don’t ever think that I could easily forget The Posies, I May Hate You Sometimes

Haley

I’m still not quite sure how it happened.

I really thought that a triplet date would be a good idea, when Jordan first broached the idea to me. He didn’t seem really thrilled about it, though. At first I thought it might be residual bad feelings over the Byron/Jeff thing, but I soon changed my mind. And it was By who changed it.

I was between customers in the bridal department, so I had been sent to clean the front doors. By was pricing candy at the registers. He looked up at me and smiled. “You and Jordan get sucked into this date thingee, too?”

I made a face. “Date thingee?” I repeated.

By wrinkled his nose. “You know what I mean. Me and Jeff and Adam and Tiff and you and Jordan?”

I wiped at the window, looking the other way. “I knew exactly what you meant. I was just making fun of your amazing word skills.” He didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he dumped a bin of candy onto the counter and began putting the new chocolate bars on the bottom. Sometimes, razzing By is not as fun as it should be. He’s figured out that he’s way more irritating to me if he doesn’t react in any way, so he just pretends not to hear anything I say. “Okay then. So who is Tiff, exactly?”

By sighed. “Adam is apparently attempting to get back together with his ex. I’m not quite sure why. She totally broke his heart back in the day, though he wouldn’t admit it.” He’d put all the candy back in the bin and started on the next box.

I stopped wiping and looked over at him. “So…I’m guessing you didn’t like her much, then?”

He looked thoughtful. “I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know her very well, so it’s hard to like or dislike her.” Damn him. He’s always so diplomatic. “I will say, however, that I didn’t like what she did to Adam. But that was three years ago. If Adam’s willing to give her another chance, I am too.”

“You are such a Pollyanna,” I said as I took one last swipe. “Oh, the sky is so blue. Oh, I’m going to give everyone another chance.” I threw the dirty paper towel away in the trashcan behind By’s register. He threw a Snickers bar at me. “Watch it,” I warned. “Those things are lethal.”

“I’ll get you one of these days,” he threatened.

I repeated my Pollyanna voice. “Oh, I am so scared!”

***

And so Jordan and I found ourselves standing outside Pizza Express the Friday before exams started. He was wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they were a size too big and a pair of ratty sneakers that I’ve heard that his mom has tried to throw away…several times. I don’t date Jordan for his fashion sense. He’d paired those clothes with an old t-shirt that was my favorite of his—but not because it was any more fashionable than anything else he wears. He was wearing it the day we first kissed, and after we got back from Maine, he loaned it to me. I slept in it for a week before I gave it back to him.

It was a little chilly that night and I’d stupidly decided to wear a tank top and a pair of capris. “Ugh!” I moaned. “It’s the middle of June. Why is it so freakin’ cold out?”

Jordan laughed. “To mess with your pretty little head.” I bopped him on the arm with one of my icy cold hands and he pulled me into a big bear hug. “This is snuggle weather,” he explained.

I burrowed into his armpit where it was nice and warm. “Snuggle? You are such a girl.”

He laughed again. “No, I am definitely a guy. Would you rather be doing this with a girl?” And then he kissed me.

We were still kissing when Adam walked up. “Okay, okay. Break it up you two, or I’ll turn a hose on you.”

“Ugh!” I shivered as we broke our kiss. “Adam! This is not a wet t-shirt contest, so keep your hose to yourself.” Both Adam and Jordan looked at me funny and then started laughing. “That’s not what I meant.”

Jordan gave Adam a high five over my head. “So, where’s Miss Hot Stuff?” he asked.

Adam grimaced. “You’re not going to say stuff like that to her, are you? You’re not going to make fun of her to her face all night?”

Jordan made a “who, me?” face. “No,” he said, “I plan to make a subtle mockery of her while she’s here and then make fun of her ‘like that’ behind her back after she’s left.”

Adam looked disgusted but I laughed. “Jordan,” I fake-chided, hoping to find something humorous to add. Before I could come up with anything witty enough, a model of a girl came walking up.

The girl was tall and skinny, with long blonde hair. She had high cheek bones and a delicate face shape. Her hair was immaculately done and her makeup was perfect. Her clothes looked like they came from a fancy boutique—or a fashion magazine. They probably cost more than my whole wardrobe put together.

Somehow, I knew right away she was Tiffany.

She made me feel like—well, like a child in comparison. She was tall and willowy, almost as tall as the triplets, with decent sized boobs. I’m a little over five feet and can barely scrape up a b cup. Not to mention that my clothes, instead of coming off a runway, come from the kids’ department.

Adam greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “Hey.”

“Sorry I’m late.” She flashed a million-watt smile.

He returned the grin. “You’re not late; you’re right on time.”

Tiffany turned to Jordan and me, standing just a few feet away. “Hi, Jordan,” she said with a small waggle of her fingers.

Jordan took one hand off my back and waved it in a big arc, vaguely in Tiff’s direction, but he didn’t say anything. Adam glared at Jordan, but he just put his hand back and pulled me closer.

As for me, well, no one had introduced me to Tiff, so I said nothing. My teeth were starting to chatter. If it had been socially acceptable, I would have climbed up into Jordan’s shirt with him.

If looks could kill, Jordan would have been dead by then. I think that if half the school— and Tiff—hadn’t been there, Adam would have gone off on Jordan. Instead, he composed himself and said, “Tiff, have you met Jordan’s girlfriend, Haley Braddock? Haley, this is Tiffany Kilbourne.”

I thought about what By said about Adam giving Tiff another chance. I looked at her. Despite her glamour, she was kinda hunched over, biting a fingernail. She looked insecure and unsure. I smiled at her, hoping it would help. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

She smiled back tentatively, looking instantly a little bit relieved. “You, too.”

Adam had stopped glaring at Jordan, but he still looked anxious. “Where the hell is Byron?” he asked. “He’s never late. You can set your watch by him most of the time.”

I snorted back a laugh, mostly because it was true. Tiff raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I need to explain,” Adam said, turning away from me and toward her. “Our little crew here is a bit…incestuous.” Jordan made a sound along the lines of “pshaw” and Adam turned back to us again. “Not literally, of course. Pervert. Anyway…” His head ping-ponged back to Tiffany. “See, Haley is Byron’s best friend. And our childhood best friend, Jeff, is dating Byron now.”

“Speak of the devils,” Jordan said, looking over Adam’s shoulder. Byron was hurrying down the sidewalk. He had Jeff by the hand and he was practically dragging him behind him. Jeff was not at a good angle for me to see him, but By looked agitated.

The two of them came a little bit closer and I got a look at Jeff. He looked sullen and petulant, and he was clearly unhappy that By was pulling him along like a child. Then again, something about his expression made me think of a toddler about to throw a tantrum, so maybe Byron had the right idea.

“Sorry we’re so late,” By said, letting Jeff go. He went over to Tiffany and gave her a one armed hug, which she gratefully returned. “How are you, Tiff?” he asked. She smiled at him and shrugged. “This is Jeff,” he said, taking Jeff’s hand again, more gently this time. “He’s my…” By trailed off, looking unsure.

Jeff tried to school his annoyed expression, but he wasn’t too successful at it. “Boyfriend,” he finished. “You can say the word. It won’t hurt.”

By pursed his lips, and for a second I thought he was going to direct an insult Jeff’s way. Instead, he shrank a little bit and let go of Jeff’s hand. “Boyfriend,” he repeated.

I looked up at Jordan, interested in his take on the display in front of us. He shrugged at me, but took a bit of control of the situation. “Can we head inside? Haley’s just about cold blooded and I think she’s freezing her ass off.”

Byron poked my arm with one warm finger. “Maybe if you wore enough clothes for the weather, you wouldn’t have this problem.” I noted that both he and Jeff were wearing jackets.

“Good advice, Dad,” I said with a roll of my eyes. Jordan laughed, and after a second, Adam and Byron joined him, followed by me and Tiffany. Even Jeff smiled a little bit.

Jordan let me go and opened the door. “After you,” he said to the group in general.

I walked in, with Tiffany right behind. The guys followed. Jeff was right in step behind Adam and Tiff, and the three of them walked over to the menu board. Jordan let the door go and smoothed down my hair as he passed. “Honey, you coming?” he asked.

I nodded. “Give me a second.” Jordan nodded back and threw a glance over at By, who was still standing blocking the door.

I grabbed By by the arm and pulled him out of the doorway. “What is going on?” I asked.

“Hay…” By looked like he was about to cry, but he just shook his head. “Later, okay? It’s nothing. Just a little disagreement.”

I wrinkled my brow. “Let me guess. Jeff said something and you blew it out of proportion and got all ass-hurt about it. Then, instead of telling him how you felt, you said something without thinking and Jeff got all ass-hurt about that. Am I close?” He didn’t reply, but the look on his face said it all. “Oh, By,” I said, and I squeezed his arm. “Just wait until you two leave tonight and tell him you’re sorry. He’ll get over it.”

He sniffled. “This whole night sucks already, and now we have to sit down and play nice so Adam can prove to Tiffany that we don’t hold a grudge against her.”

I bit my lower lip. “We better get to that part, then. Get it over with.”

When By and I joined the group, they were all discussing pizza toppings. Adam turned to us. “Please, you two, break the stalemate. We’re thinking two pies, but we can’t decide what to get on each. Any input?”

I walked past Jordan to where Jeff was trying to hide. I slid my arm around his and gave a tug, gently pulling him into the discussion. “Two? Are you kidding? Byron can eat a whole pizza by himself. Better make it three.”

By made a face, but everyone else nodded. “Okay, that will work,” Adam said thoughtfully. “One with peperoni for Tiffany and whoever else wants that. One fully loaded. And one with…Jeff, what are you thinking?”

Jeff shook his head. He no longer looked ready to toss a fit, but instead, tired and emotionless. “Whatever. Cheese. Veggies. Whatever,” he repeated, his voice flat.

I smiled at him. “How do you feel about mushrooms?” He shrugged but didn’t protest.

“Oh, yeah,” Adam piped back up. “I’d forgotten about Haley’s obsession with fungus ‘nads. Always have to have some mushroom slices.” I wrinkled my nose at the gonad reference but said nothing. “Okay, are we ready, then? Let’s order and see if there are any seats left.”

The guys all got in line, but they nominated Tiffany and me to go find seats. It had been decided that “the men” would pay and split it evenly, and I had been dying to see who out of Byron and Jeff was going to pay, but I walked off with Tiff instead.

There was only one table free, and when we got to it, Tiff made a face. I thought at first that she was unhappy with the fact that the table hadn’t been bussed and there were a few wrappers and crumbs on it, but that notion went away before we ever got our pizzas.

Adam cruised by with two cups, one of which he handed to Tiff. “Come pick your poison with me,” he said, and he dragged her off the bench by her free hand. She laughed and joined him.

And so I found myself sitting alone at the table. I started to get impatient because I worried they’d forgotten about me. What about my drink, dammit? Jeff was the first one back, and he seemed to be skirting By as much as possible. “Jeff,” I said in a low voice, “What did he do that’s got you so upset?”

Jeff put his head down on the filthy table. “Ugh,” he said. He left his head down for a moment, and then looked at me. “Nothing that terrible,” he admitted, “but it totally came out of nowhere.”

I was about to reply when By and Jordan joined us at the table. Jordan held a cup out in front of me. “Half lemonade, half 7Up. No ice.”

I beamed, my irritation over being left behind forgotten; he’d remembered my drink preference. “Thanks!” Jordan slid onto the bench next to me and put his own cup down. He was so close I could hear his heart beating, and he put a hand on my back. Byron sat down across from Jordan. Before Jeff knew what was happening, By draped his arm around Jeff’s neck and put his face into the hollow between Jeff’s shoulder and head. Jordan and I pretended to look the other way for a moment. Some words must have been exchanged, but I never heard a thing. I just saw Jeff lean over a little bit and kiss By’s forehead, and I knew they’d be alright. At least for the rest of the night.

Adam and Tiff returned a moment later. Adam strategically sat next to Jordan, putting a friendlier Byron next to Tiff. He looked over at By and Jeff and raised his eyebrows but didn’t say a word. Byron sat up straight but kept his arm on Jeff. “So…” he said, hoping to start a conversation.

We didn’t get a chance to find a topic. We were interrupted by a spate of noises from the booth in the corner, just two tables away. It sounded like a group of geese honking, only three times as loud. Jeff and Byron briefly turned around, but seemed largely unconcerned about the sounds. Tiff, on the other hand, lingered more on the group of teens making the noises. She looked annoyed. “What asylum did they escape from?” she asked.

I felt my whole body stiffen. “They didn’t come from an asylum,” I hissed. I reached across Jordan and tapped Adam’s shoulder. Without a word, both brothers got up, and I walked over to the other table.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tiff watching me. I reached the table and touched one of the boys sitting there on his shoulder. “What’s she doing?” I heard Tiff ask Adam.

The boy turned around and grinned at me. He greeted me, his fingers flying. I gave him a small hug and returned the greeting and spoke to the table at large without saying a word. “That’s her brother,” Adam said, pointing to the boy I’d hugged, “and he’s deaf. I’m guessing all his friends are, too.”

I didn’t get to see Tiff’s face, but she didn’t respond verbally to that. After learning that Matt and his friends had just come from a soccer game where they’d kicked the other team’s ass, I returned to my table. Adam and Jordan stood again to let me back into the booth. I looked at Tiffany. She seemed absolutely mortified. I was ready to make some kind of nasty statement, but after looking at her, I bit back all my comments.

Tiff was making it hard to continue to be nice to her, however. It seemed like every time she opened her mouth, she said something designed to annoy. There was a crack about health food “nuts,” for starters. Jeff, who seemed to have made up with Byron but was still quieter and more reserved than I was used to seeing him, winced when she said that.

Then, when talk turned to school, Tiff mentioned how she’d barely scraped through high school. “Both of my sisters just about kill themselves over tests and assignments. I’ve never understood that. People who spend that much time studying really need to get a life.” I turned to Byron, who had just found out he was going to be salutatorian of the class of 2004. He’d earned that title not because he’s way smarter than the rest of us, but because he works his ass off. He was looking at his lap, his eyebrows knitted together.

I kept waiting for Adam to say something. I know he was desperate for the night to go well; every time Tiff made some kind of inadvertent social blunder, he changed the topic. But yet, he kept letting her talk.

Jordan, who had either changed his mind about Tiff or was as desperate as anyone else at the table to keep things from going into the crapper, asked her about college life right as the pizza arrived. She didn’t answer right away; there was a flurry of activity as pizzas were shifted around and slices found their way onto plates. The mushroom pizza ended up right in front of me and Jeff, which is exactly where it needed to be. I found that I was starving and crammed three slices onto my plate. I’d eaten almost an entire slice by the time that I realized that Tiff had taken just one piece of pizza, which she was picking at slowly. Was that normal female behavior? I’d spent my teen years surrounded by boys. I put the piece down and watched Tiff for a while. She took a delicate bite of pizza and then answered Jordan’s question.

“Well, I don’t live on campus or anything since I go to the community college. But it’s pretty similar to Stoneybrook U other than dorm life and Greek life. I mean, we have clubs and sports and things. I never really got into that. One of the biggest clubs there is the Campus Crusade for Christ. It’s just a bunch of kids loving on Jesus. Not really my scene.”

Jordan looked down at his pizza for a moment, and I waited for him to mention to Tiff that he’d spent the last four years as a member of a club just like that, but he kept his mouth shut. It was then that it dawned on me—Jordan wasn’t going to defend that lifestyle to the others because they didn’t know he was part of it. I was probably the only person at the table to know that he’d taken a purity oath. As much I thought it was pretty lame to be embarrassed of your choice to be religious, I couldn’t say much about it. I’d supported By through three years of me knowing he was in the closet without saying a word. It wouldn’t be right to comment on Jordan being in the Jesus closet.

I spoke up anyway. “I hear those groups can be really supportive. You know, when you’re going through bad times.” Jordan flashed me a grateful smile, which I returned. I picked up my piece of pizza and finished it. Jordan liked me just the way I was, even if I ate like a pig. Why should I worry what Tiffany thought?

“That’s probably true,” Tiff acknowledged. “Although, the SCC club’s president was involved in a giant scandal, I guess. As far as Christian-group drama goes. Apparently, just a couple months after she and a group of kids made a whole big show of making virginity pledges, she turned up pregnant. There was this whole mess going on all year long because of that.” I took a sip of my drink and was playing with the straw with my free hand when Tiff started talking again. “She got booted out as president and then out of the club altogether. If I were her, I’d just have told them I got raped. Would have solved the whole problem.”

I dropped my cup on the table. The lid fell off and fizzy lemonade went everywhere. Everyone jumped up to grab napkins or get out of the way of the waterfall of drink. One of the triplets shouted, “Watch it, Haley!” but I didn’t catch which one. I barely heard him. I was vaguely aware that there was a puddle growing on my lap. I kept my eyes on Tiff, who, like the boys, was looking at the mess on the table.

Only By was watching me, though I wasn’t even aware of it at the time. I stood up. “That’s it. I’ve had enough of this,” I said angrily, still looking directly at Tiff. She stopped trying to clean up the spill, and stared at me, bewildered.

Jordan’s eyes were like saucers. “Haley,” he said warningly, but I’d already crossed the line and there was no going back.

“You have no idea,” I said venomously, directly to Tiff. “You think being raped is a joke? You think it’s funny?” Adam backed unconsciously out of the booth and stood next to Tiffany, leaving only Jordan holding me into the booth. He put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. “I wouldn’t wish a rape on my worst enemy. And right now, you’re not too far off from there.”

I tried to leave the bench, but Jordan put himself bodily between me and the exit. “Haley…” he repeated, this time more soothingly. He sounded concerned and his eyes were sad.

I was in mid-flight and there was no stopping me. “Get out of my way, Jordan,” I said, smacking at his arm. He pulled his arm away, looking wounded, and moved out of my path. I stalked out of Pizza Express without a backward glance.

I didn’t realize Jordan was following me until I was about a block away. By that point I was sobbing pretty hard. He reached out and put a hand on my back. I knew instantly that it was him by the nature of the touch. I stopped walking and stopped fighting and let him pull me into a hug.

We stood there silently like that until the tears subsided and I was all cried out. I regained my breath and waited for Jordan to chew me out. Instead, he just squeezed me tight. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked.

I still had tears on my eyelashes; he wiped them away with one hand. “And wet.”

“We’d better get you home, then.”

We had walked to the restaurant, which I now regretted. It was dark now and even colder than when we went in. Even Jordan was shivering now, and it didn’t matter how close he held me, I couldn’t seem to get warm.

When we arrived at my house, the lights were out and Daddy’s car was gone. Jordan looked at the dark windows. “Your parents went out?”

“I guess.”

Jordan frowned. “You’re all wet. Go inside and get changed. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

I hated leaving him freezing on the stoop, but he’s not allowed in the house when no one else is home, and my pants were nearly frozen. I ran in through the house to my bedroom, where there had been an explosion of clothes earlier in the day. I found a clean pair of jeans and a pink and yellow plaid shirt that I threw on, and headed back downstairs.

I headed for the coat closet at the front of the house and pulled out two jackets: my favorite fleecy hoodie and a like-new jacket of Matt’s that he never wears. On the way back to the back door, I stopped and read the note tacked to the refrigerator: Haley and Matt…went to the movies. Be back by eleven. Mom and Dad.

Jordan was sitting on the steps, and when I opened the door he turned around and smiled a little. I dropped Matt’s jacket in his lap and his grin got a little bigger. “Thanks.”

Once Jordan had the jacket on, I sat down on his lap. It’s a sad but true fact that I fit there perfectly, with my head coming just between his shoulder and chin. With the coats on and shared body heat to help keep us warm, we were feeling a lot better. Jordan pulled me close and hugged me tight, like he didn’t want to let me go. His mouth was right next to my ear. Normally, he would have started kissing me or breathing heavy or something, but neither of us was really in the mood for it. Instead, he sighed. “I wish you could trust me,” he said quietly.

I turned to face him. “What are you talking about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about…?” He looked away and I could see he was struggling with the words.

I furrowed my brows. “Jordan. I don’t even have the words for it, most of the time. It’s hard for me to say. I’ve only told one person ever, and that’s only because I was forced to.”

He reached out tentatively toward my face and then withdrew his hand without touching me. “Byron,” he said, not really asking a question. I nodded anyway. “So it is true. You really were…”

Sometimes, Jordan is so much like Byron, it scares me. Although I guess it shouldn’t. They did spend about eight months sharing a womb. “Raped?” I finished his statement for him, because I knew he wouldn’t stop until I said it. It’s exactly how By found out, too. “Yeah. I was.”

His face went through a quick range of emotions. Finally, he settled on looking sad, with something I’ve never seen out of him before. He looked like he was going to cry. “When?”

I looked up at the stars. “A lifetime ago. Do you mind if I don’t go into it now? I promise, I’ll tell you someday. But this day has been hard enough without having to relive that night over again.” Jordan nodded, and I looked back at him. He put his hand out again, and this time he ran his index finger down the length of my face, tracing the edge from my forehead to my ear, down the jaw to my chin. “And please, don’t think it’s because I don’t trust you. I’ve never in my life let someone touch me the way you do.”

I could hear Daddy’s car pulling up the driveway as I finished my last statement. I stood up off Jordan’s lap and sat down beside him. He understood without my saying a word, but he pulled me as close as he dared and put his mouth next to my ear again. “I love you. I hope you know that,” he whispered.

He’d joked about it before. Usually he joked that I loved him for some reason: his car, his friends, his family. This was the first time he’d ever come straight out and said he loved me, although I have a feeling he’d wanted to say it from the first time we’d kissed. And probably, from what I’ve heard, for a long time before that.

I looked at him, not sure I could return the words just at that moment. But I didn’t get a chance to find out. Car doors slammed and my parents were standing there in front of us. “Haley? Jordan? What are you two doing out here?” My dad asked.

Jordan stood up and then held out a hand to help me up. “I was seeing Haley home, but when we got here, no one was home. Haley was having a tough evening, so I didn’t want to leave her alone. I hope you don’t mind that we sat back here for a while.”

I saw Mom and Daddy look at each other and have a little telepathic conference. Jordan ran his finger down the side of my eye, where I could still feel the dried tears from earlier. His finger came away green and that was when I realized that my mascara had smeared everywhere. My parents must have been able to tell I’d been crying. “You and your green eye makeup,” Jordan teased. I smiled a little back at him, and I knew he was okay for now if I didn’t say those three little words back to him. Which, being the person I am, made me want to say them.

The little conversation Mom was having with Daddy ended and she turned back to us. “Well, next time you two come home to an empty house, you can go ahead inside. As long as you stick to the ground floor of the house and we don’t come home to see anything we don’t want to see.”

I know my mouth hung open for a moment before I replied. “Really?”

Mom laughed. “Yes, really. We could have come home to find Jordan trying to sneak out the other door. Or the two of you in the backseat of the car, giving the excuse that you were trying to keep warm.” I looked at Jordan, trying to have a mental conversation with him, along the lines of ‘why didn’t we think of that?!?’ I know he got the message because he was trying hard not to laugh. “Now we see we can trust you.”

Daddy opened the door to the house. “Jordan? You coming in for a while?”

He shook his head. “It’s been a long day. I probably should be heading home.” Daddy and Mom nodded and headed inside. Jordan turned back to me. “Call me when you get up in the morning and I’ll bring the jacket back.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. With that, he headed down the driveway.

I waited until he was almost out of sight. “Jordan?”

He turned around. “What, Haley?”

“I love you, too.” I blew him a kiss.

He lit up like I’d just plugged him into electricity. He reached out one hand and grabbed the imaginary kiss and planted it on his cheek. With a little wave, he walked away.