The week seemed to pass in a blur, Friday came around fast which meant I had to supervise Tara at some party.

I had learned throughout the week that the guy throwing the party was named Jack Daniels. Now if that doesn't scream trouble then I don't know what does. I kind of felt sorry for the guy, his parents were probably either alcoholics or had whacked senses of humour. Either way it was partly his fault for living up to his name.

"I wonder what shade of slut Erika will be wearing tonight," Tara sneered as she twisted a lock of her hair around the curling iron.

I shrugged. "Can it get any worse than what she wears at school?"

"Babe, to her that's like wearing a nun outfit."

I grinned, imagining Erika in one of those long dresses that nuns wear. Though she would probably find one way or another to try to woo the priests. Maybe with her charming personality. Or her peanut sized brain.

I strolled into my closet searching for something descent to wear. I wasn't going to wear a dress or a skirt, because let's face it, those things are dangerous on so many levels. I settled on a pair of light wash high waisted shorts, not the kind where half of your ass hangs out, and a long sleeved lace top which I tucked into my shorts. I slid my white converse onto my feet, exiting my closet.

"Hot damn," Tara whistled as I came into view. "You should wear those shorts more often, you're ass looks great."

I chuckled, rolling my eyes. "Thanks."

"Annnd done!" Tara exclaimed, switching off the curling iron.

"Can we go now?"

"Girl I was only talking about my hair, don't get too excited." I groaned, throwing my own tangled hair into a high ponytail, before flopping into my bed with a thump.

Tara liked to look perfect. Her hair had to be perfect, her makeup had to be perfect, her outfit had to be perfect. Even her eyebrows had to be perfect. If they weren't on point, she wouldn't leave the house.

"I don't know why you even bother to put that paint shit on your face, you don't need it," I mumbled.

"My complexion is blotchy and I look like I've been smoking crack if I don't cover my dark circles," she said, waving the mascara brush at me like she was conducting an orchestra.

"Liar," I muttered, "you have great skin."

"Says the girl with the perfect olive skin and no acne."

"I was born this way."

~*~*~*~*~

When we arrived the party was already in full swing. The reason being we were about an hour late, or as Tara called it 'fashionably late'. You already know how much I hated being late, however Tara enjoyed being in the limelight so she liked the stares she received when she walked in.

Thankfully dad had fixed my jeep for me, so that we could actually get here otherwise that would have been a drama.

Tara went straight for the booze, pouring herself a beer. I headed to the kitchen, leaning against a wall where I could watch Tara. She disappeared into the mosh pit of sweaty teenagers, but soon reappeared at the beer pong table. I rolled my eyes. Typical.

Tara was usually pretty easy to spot because quite often she was the girl dancing on tables, and equally as often she was the girl falling off tables. The last party she went to she agreed to do body shots and started taking her clothes off. I had to drag her away. She's lucky she had me.

The party seemed to drag on forever, occasionally I uttered a couple of words to passers by, but most of them were loud drunks so the conversations didn't last very long.

I checked the time on my phone, pissed off to see that it was only eleven thirty and I'd only been there for a half hour. I crossed my arms over my chest, yawning.

"Having fun there sunshine?"

I spun around, narrowing my eyes. "Are you stalking me?"

He put a hand on his chest, feigning offence. "Does this look like the face of a stalker to you?" He purposely pulled a creepy clown face.

"Yes," I deadpanned.

He sighed, scanning my face for a moment. "You really don't want to be here do you?"

"Not particularly."

"Then why are you here?"

"See that loopy ginger girl over there on that table?" I pointed to Tara who was slowly transitioning into Clara the French ballerina. Ryan nods. "Yeah, well I'm supposed to be supervising, but it's more like babysitting."

"Oh." He thought for a minute. "I'll text Kyle, he's not drinking, I'm sure he won't mind watching her."

"Not at all," I muttered, frowning as I realised something. "How come both of you aren't drinking?" I was really assuming that he wasn't drinking because unlike the majority of the party goers, he didn't have a red solo cup filled with nasty liquid and he wasn't swaying like he was on a boat in the ocean.

He looked up at me, pocketing his phone. "I don't drink, plus I drove myself here. Kyle has tweedle dee and tweedle dum to take care of." I nodded, a little surprised that he didn't drink.

A grin took over Ryan's face. He grabbed my arm, tugging me out the door.

"What are you doing!?" I screeched, as he jogged across the grass and onto the sidewalk, pulling me with him

"Running!" He beamed at me, locating his beat up truck. It wasn't hard to find amongst the masses of shiny cars.

He stopped running, unlocking his truck before holding the passenger door open, gesturing for me to get in. I looked at him skeptically.

"Come on sunshine, I'm trying to be chivalrous."

"You? Chivalrous?" I snorted out a laugh.

"Get in or I'll be forced to kidnap you against your will."

"Isn't kidnapping always against your will?"

He gave me a warning look.

I held up my hands. "Fine, I'm going, I'm going."

I climbed into his truck, buckling my seatbelt as he closed the door. He jogged around the other side, quickly jumping into the drivers seat as if he thought I would try to escape.

Not that I was thinking about escaping...

He buckled his own seatbelt, turning the key in the ignition. The truck successfully started, coughing a few times before roaring to life. We drove in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't an awkward silence, like when you're in a car with an almost stranger and you can see them in your peripheral vision looking at you. They think they're being subtle, but they really aren't.

"Why were you at that party?" I asked, starting to convince myself that maybe he was stalking me.

He frowned, briefly glancing at me before turning his eyes back to the road. "What do you mean?

"Well you don't drink, you weren't the sober driver and you weren't hanging out with Kyle, so why did you go?"

He sighed. "It's a long story."

"Nope, it's a short story, you just don't want to tell me."

"Why do you want to know anyway?"

I shrugged, letting my feet rest on the dash. "You practically kidnapped me, the least you can do is answer a simple question."

He chuckled. "Alright, I'll tell you. Okay so picture this. You get home, you're tired, you're hungry, you're grumpy."

"Very easy to picture, I'm like that every day." I muttered.

"You walk into the living room and bam, your ex girlfriend and her parents are there talking to your mom. Your mom is like 'hey we have guests for dinner' and you're like 'hell to the no'. You make up a bullshit excuse about having to do a project with Kyle. You go to Kyle's, he's going to a party so you go too. You kidnap someone else who also doesn't want to be there, make them get in your truck and drive away."

"So in other words, you're hiding from Erika."

"Exactly."

"Why were her parents at your house?"

He groaned. "My mom is friends with her parents and she doesn't know that Erika and I aren't together anymore."

"Wow, that really wasn't a short story."

"I did tell you that."

We continued driving down a quiet road lined with tall trees. It was spooky to say the least.

"Where are we going?" I asked, staring out the window at the shadows forming as a result of the darkness.

"A place," he said vaguely.

"Thanks for that, very helpful."

"You're welcome."

We pulled up at some kind of park. It was surrounded by massive trees which looked as if they could've been hundreds of years old. Ryan jumped out of the truck and I copied, not really wanting to be left alone in the dark.

"C'mere sunshine." I followed his voice, obviously unable to see in the darkness. I bumped into something hard, then his hand reached out to find mine. His fingers intertwined with mine, enveloping my hand in warmth.

We started walking in the dark. I figured that Ryan must've been here a few times before because he seemed to know where he was going, even in the dark.

"Is this the part when you drag me into the trees and kill me?" I asked as we walked, eyeing the shadows cast by the trees.

"Not yet." Was his reply, but he squeezed my hand for reassurance.

We came to a halt and Ryan released my hand. He sat on the grass, then moved so he was laying on his back with his arms stretched behind his head.

"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling a sense of déjà vu, like I'd asked that before.

"You'll see." He reached up, grabbing my hand with enough force to pull to to the ground with a thud.

"What was tha-"

"Shhh," I could faintly see him pointing towards the sky. I moved onto my back as he was.

I knew then what I was supposed to be looking at. The stars.

The sky was like a dark blanket, embellished with hundreds of tiny crystals that shone brighter than I'd ever seen them before. I felt like Ryan and I were the only people in the world seeing the stars shining so brightly.

"How did you find this place?" I asked in amazement.

"My dad used to bring me here when I was a kid." His words sounded full of nostalgia.

"Every Friday night we'd come here and he'd tell me stories about the faraway planets and who lived on them. We used to stay out here for hours."

"Sounds like a cool guy." I wished I could've had a real father who would do things like that with me.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat. "He is."

"What about you? Are you close with your dad?" His question took me a little by surprise.

"Not really with my dad, but my brother and I are close."

"Oh, he's the one that rung you right? Where does he go to college?"

"He doesn't go to college, he's a marine. I haven't seen him in almost a year."

"Shit, sorry sunshine."

I shrugged. "What for? You didn't do anything wrong."

Silence hung around us for a few minutes, both of us staring up at the sky in awe.

I was the one who eventually broke the silence.

"We should play twenty questions," I stated.

Ryan turned his head to look at me. "Should we now?"

"Yes because I told my brother on the phone that we were friends and I hardly know anything about you."

"Right. Well I guess you can start then sunshine."

"Okay, let me think for a second," I paused to think of a question. "Alright I've got one."

"Hit me with it."

"What's your favourite colour?"

"That's your question?"

"Uh huh."

"My favourite colour is green." He said.

"I thought it was red." I thought aloud.

"Why?"

I shrugged. "You just look like a red kind of guy."

"Nope, it's always been green."

"You learn something new every day. You're turn."

"You have to answer your own question too."

I frowned. "Okay, I'm pretty sure you just made that up but I'll tell you anyway. Mine's Blue."

"Huh, I always picked you for a red kind of girl." I reached over and whacked his chest.

"Shut up Martinez."

"Oh, so we're on last name basis now are we Harper?"

"Yes, now think of a question."

"So bossy," he muttered. "What's your favourite food?"

I groaned. "I hate this question! There are so many to choose from. I'm just going to say meat in general because tons of different stuff fits into the meat category."

"Wow detailed answer. Pancakes are my favourite."

"Okay this isn't my question, but can I put pancakes under the meat category?"

"Sure."

"Okay good. What are you scared of?"

He paused before answering. "Death. I don't think I'm scared of dying, I'm scared of the people I love dying.

I found his hand, squeezing it gently.

"I'm scared of spiders too."

"You're scared of spiders?"

"Sunshine, everyone is scared of spiders, it's just a matter of admitting it or not."

I'd never thought of it that way, but it seemed legit.

"What are you scared of?"

I hesitated, unsure if I should tell the truth. What he told me was too specific to be a lie so I guess it would would only be fair to tell him the truth.
"I'm scared that I'll end up like my father."

"You're dad's nice, I've met him a couple of times."

"He's not really my dad," I explained. "I call him dad because he the closest I've ever had to one, he's Jasmines biological father, but my brother and I have different dads."

"Can I ask where your real dad is?"

I sighed. "He's rotting in a prison cell for the rest of his miserable life. But please don't tell anyone, you're only the second person outside of my family that I've told."

"I swear with the power of my pinky that I will forever keep your secret." He held out is pinky, which I looped with mine.

"You are now sworn to secrecy," I announced, letting our hands fall back to the grass.

"Yes ma'am."

And that's how twenty questions turned into three questions.

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning I woke up disorientated with a sore back.

The first thing I realised was that I was sleeping on grass. It wasn't that hard to figure out because when I opened my eyes it was literally the first thing I saw. The next thing I noticed was something heavy laying across my stomach and a cool breeze sweeping across the back of my neck. I looked to my stomach, where I was disturbed to find a tanned hand attached to a hoody covered arm that I sincerely hoped was connected to a body. The cool breeze tickling the back of my neck wasn't a cool breeze at all, it was someone breathing. Ryan breathing. He was still asleep, so I thought that maybe I could remove his arm without waking him. The answer to that? No. His arm tightened around me, pulling me closer as he muttered sleepily under his breath.

"Ryan," I hissed, struggling to get out of his grip.

"Mmph," he muttered unintelligibly.

"Get off me," I whisper yelled, contemplating elbowing him in the balls, but deciding that probably wouldn't be a very nice thing to wake up to and he was the one who drove here so I really didn't want to anger the driver.

I finally wrenched his arm from my waist, throwing it back at him.

"What the hell," he sat up, rubbing his chest. "Sunshine did you just hit me?" He asked incredulously.

"No, you just hit yourself."

Or maybe I threw his arm and it hit him... oops.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, hauling himself up, then offering me a hand. I gladly took it, stretching out my back.

We started walking back to Ryan's truck, I didn't realise how cold it was until I started shivering. Ryan stopped walking, looking at me. He pulled his hoody over his head, handing it to me.

"Here, you look freezing."

"What about you?"

"I'm fine sunshine, just take it."

I hesitantly took his hoody, pulling it over my head and sliding my arms arms into the sleeves, which I had to roll up to find my hands. I don't know why but I found myself transfixed with the smell. It was a mixture of a woodsy smell and cinnamon.

I looked up to find Ryan smirking at me.

"What?" I asked self consciously.

"You don't look like you're wearing any pants sunshine."

I looked down at my legs to see that my shorts had been completely covered by his hoody. My face became hot at this discovery and I scowled at him.

"Not funny," I retorted as we continued walking.

He chuckled. "Don't worry sunshine, I can officially say that you look better in that than I do."

I rolled my eyes as I climbed into his truck. The ride home was pretty quiet. Ryan dropped me off at the place where the party was so that I could pick up my jeep. Arriving home I was pleased to see that moms car wasn't there, although it probably wouldn't have made any difference if she was there. She didn't care if I went to parties, she didn't care if I stayed at Tara's for three consecutive days, hell she probably wouldn't have noticed if I just disappeared.

It was still pretty early in the morning so both dad and Jasmine were still asleep. I headed upstairs, quickly changing into some sweatpants and a shirt, throwing Ryan's hoody back on.

I can tell you right now that he never got that back.

I brushed my teeth, semi tidying my hair before braiding it to keep it out of my face.

I searched for my phone, finding it in the pocket of my discarded shorts. I found Tara's number, pressing the phone to my ear. It rung five times before she picked up.

"What the fuck do you want?" Her words were slightly slurred and it sounded like I might've woken her up.

I ignored her greeting. "Where are you?"

She groaned. "I don't fucking know."

"Well can you describe what you see?"

"Only if you stop talking so fucking loud."

"Deal," I lowered my voice to just above a whisper.

"There's a bed and walls and I'm in the fucking bed." Was her wonderful description.

"Right... are you wearing clothes?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? I haven't fucking checked yet."

"Well check then."

She muttered several unintelligible sentences. "Affirmative."

"Okay good, go to the window and look to see where you are."

I heard a groan, a thud and "FUCK".

"Alright I found the window," she muttered, more to herself than to me. Then she screeched. "Holy fucking hell! Shit, shit, shit. Is the world on fire?" She stopped talking for a few moments. "It's all good, I can see now." She laughed, "Hey Hazel, I can see your house from here. Guess where I am."

"I don't know."

"At your neighbours house."

"Which neighbour?"

"The hot one."

"I'm taking it you're not talking about Mr Thomas?"

"Peeping Tom? Hell no."

I chuckled loudly causing her to shush me. "I'll be there in about thirty seconds."

"Okie dokie," she said, before the line went dead.

I hopped down the stairs, only to be greeted by the devil in the form of a small blonde haired girl.

She planted her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. "Where are you going?" She demanded.

"Out." I said vaguely.

"I'm coming with you."

"I don't think so."

"I'll scream."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

She opened her mouth to scream, but barely got a squeak out before I clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Fine, you can come, but I swear if you pull anything I will drop you off at peeping Toms house. Got it?"

She nodded frantically, as I looked her up and down. She was wearing a pink onesie with penguins on it and bare feet with pink nail polish.

I shook my head in disgust at the pink burning my eyes. "Alright, let's go."

We headed across the grass until we reached the front door. I knocked several times, waiting to be let in.

The door inched open, revealing a mop of blonde hair attached to a small boy. A grin erupted across his face.

"Hazel!" He shouted, throwing his arms around my legs.

I chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Hey bud, what've you been doing?"

He unwrapped his little arms from my legs. "Ry said I had to stay upstairs because his friends are acting really funny so I built a plane out if Lego! You should come see it!" He grabbed the material of my sweatpants, tugging me into the house.

Their house was completely different to ours. The furniture was somewhat mismatched and the paint was wearing in some places, although the main difference was how it felt. You could tell that house had been loved and memories had been made there. Pictures littered the walls, framed photos were scattered around the room, holding snapshots of the past. Even the finger paintings that Archie had created were taped to the walls as if they were prized pieces of art.

"Hey Archie?"

"Yup?" He stopped walking to look at me.

"Do you know where your brother is?"

He pointed to a door leading off the living room. "He's in the kitchen."

I nodded. "I'm going to talk to him." He pouts. "But I promise I'll come see your plane after. Plus, I'm sure Jasmine would love to see it."

She opened her mouth to complain but I sent her a glare, making her rethink her actions.

They headed upstairs, while I followed Archie's directions, pushing open the door.

Kyle was in the kitchen cooking something that smelled amazing, Tara was sitting at the counter wearing sunglasses and last nights dress, while Lee and Justin were both sitting at the table, Lee with a bowl sitting in front of him and Justin with his head on the table and his eyes closed. So all in all a gorgeous bunch of hungover teenagers.

Ryan however, was nowhere to be seen. I Headed over to where Tara was, sitting on the stool next to hers. She seemed pretty awake, but she definitely wanted to be sleeping.

Her hair looked like it had purposely been teased and her makeup was smeared all over her face. She had lipstick on her eyebrow.

"Hot damn," I muttered to Tara, catching her attention.

"I would slap you, but I'm not sure that I can lift my arms right now." I laughed quietly at her.

Kyle spun around upon hearing my voice. He grinned. "Nice hoody Hazel."

I frowned, looking down at what I was wearing, my cheeks heating up in realisation.

"It's warm," I defended.

"Uh huh, sure."

"Hazel?" Tara said.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know what it feels like to be hungover?"

"Nope, I don't drink remember?"

"Uggh, well right now it feels like wreck it Ralph is in my head with a jackhammer, blasting my brain to pieces." She slumped over the counter, resting her head on the surface.

"Well aren't you just a ball of happiness this morning?" I mumbled to myself.

"Breakfast is served!" Kyle announced, placing a plate stacked with pancakes and another one with bacon on the counter.

"Pancakes for us and bacon for the half dead people."

"But I want pancakes," Tara whined.

"No, greasy food is good for hangovers and the soul."

"My soul died along with your sense of humour," she said dryly.

Kyle chuckled, obviously not taking her insult to heart.

He opened and closed a few cupboards, producing a stack of mismatched plates, knives and forks. He plucked a few pancakes from the stack, tossing them on a plate before drowning them in syrup.

I raised my eyebrows. "Want some pancakes with that syrup?"

He shook his head. "The syrup is the best part," he said, shoving a forkful into his mouth.

I rolled my eyes, grabbing two plates; one for Tara and one for me. I placed I couple of strips of bacon on the plate for Tara, passing her a knife and fork. I then took two pancakes for myself, decorating the top with a syrup smiley face.

I slid Tara's plate towards her, chuckling at her disgusted facial expression. She discarded the knife and fork, picking up a piece and holding it between her thumb and index finger.

She glared at the bacon and then at Kyle. "If I need to puke I'm going to pull an Aubry and projectile vomit all over you."

"Aubry?" He frowned.

"Off Pitch Perfect." She clarified.

"Oh, I haven't seen it."

Tara ripped off her sunglasses, exposing her panda eyes and smeared makeup. "Accacuse me?!"

I smacked her arm. "Shut up and eat your bacon."

She slumped in her seat. "Acca believe this."

"Don't worry," I said to a slightly traumatised looking Kyle, "she isn't usually this dramatic."

Tara snorts. "We all know that's a lie."

"I thought I told you to eat your bacon."

She muttered a string of curse words under her breath.

I sighed, picking up my knife and fork. I cut a piece of the pancake, lifting it to my mouth, only to have my fork snatched from me.