Rolling over, Ariel grabbed her phone to check the time – 0200 AM.

She sighed. Since discovering what a cow Peyton was, her thoughts had been scattered. Initially she had been pissed that Peyton was so two faced and it was only Ben dragging her away to work on his math's that stopped her from finding her and giving her a piece of her mind.

When she saw Lucas just after lunch, her emotions warred against each other. Embarrassment was still forefront in her thoughts and she had given him a wide berth. If he tried to rub it in her face, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back and she would be letting him know just what Peyton really thought of him.

Only... why did she care? A strange sick part of her felt happy that it was going to blow up in his beastly face, but every time that emotion surfaced, it was drowned out with guilt. Although she didn't want to admit, she knew why; Lucas was a good guy. She had seen how he looked out for Emily, and spent time with Ben. They didn't see eye to eye on everything, but that didn't mean he deserved to be humiliated like... like Nathan.

Memories of that night resurfaced and she sat up, curling her knees up into her chest. She buried her face into her knees, closing her eyes tightly. She didn't want to do that to anyone again.

When the thoughts refused to leave, she grabbed her phone and silently got out of bed. Careful not to wake Emily, she left their room and tiptoed downstairs to the library. Maybe she could force them out by reading a book.

Entering the library, she didn't take notice that a lamp was already on by one of the armchairs. She headed to the shelves by the front window, trying to find something that would distract her.

"Can I help you?"

She gasped, spinning around. A boy was sitting in an armchair, staring at her. He stood up, his grey jumper too large for his frame. His brown hair was tousled, as though he had just woken up as well.

Ariel had two immediate thoughts as she stared at him. One – he was pretty decent looking and two – she had never seen him before in her life.

"Who the hell are you?" She demanded. "You don't live here."

He took a step towards her. "Ariel –"

"How do you know my name?" She panicked, throwing the book at him. "How did you get in here?"

He ducked and the book soared over his head. "Ariel, quiet!"

"Not until you tell me who you are!" She grabbed another book, ready to throw it and he held up his hands, beseechingly.

"Okay, stop! My name is Oscar."

"Oscar?" She scoffed. "Like that cat? Yeah right –"

"It is! I'm... that cat."

Her chest heaved, the book trembling in her grip. "For real? You're a freaking cat?"

"No," he smiled, eyeing the book nervously. "I'm a human that's been turned into a cat."

"Oh. Then how come no one has ever mentioned that? Huh?"

"Because," he said slowly. "They don't know. Only the Doc and his family know about me."

"What a load of crap," she snapped raising the book higher. "How can no one know you're a cat?"

"I've been living here for years. I can only change into human form during a full moon. The Doc couldn't find a cure for my curse and I asked to stay with his family. I made him promise not to tell anyone about it because they always treat me differently afterwards. It's just easier to let them think I'm a cat."

"If you don't want anyone to know then why are you telling me?" She demanded.

"Because I don't want you to throw another book at me." He looked pointedly at the book ready to fly in her hand. "Can you please put that down?"

She slowly lowered her hand, placing the book against her chest. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he smiled. A flash of pain ripped across her chest and her hand immediately moved over it. He noticed the movement and glanced around her. "Where is your box?"

"My box?" Her stomach dropped. "It's upstairs. I left it upstairs."

Dropping the book, she quickly raced upstairs, sneaking back into her room. Her chest was right where she left it. She couldn't believe she'd left it behind. She'd never forgotten to take it before. Grabbing it, she went back downstairs. Oscar was sitting back in his armchair. She stopped in front of him. "How did you know about my chest?"

"I may be a cat most of the time, but I do notice things," he grinned, flipping through a book. "Every time I've seen you, you've been gripping that thing like a lifeline. What's so special about it?"

"It's my lifeline." She said flatly.

His smile faded. "Oh. Sorry –"

"Don't worry about it." Suddenly feeling tired, she fell back onto the couch, sitting cross legged. Her hair fell about her face and she twisted it to one side, tucking any loose strands behind her ear. "I wouldn't be surprised if everyone knows about it by tomorrow."

"What do you mean?"

She found herself telling him about the phone call with her sister and Lucas and Peyton hearing everything. She left out what she had said, not wanting to actually say it incase Lucas did manage to keep his mouth shut, but she wasn't counting her chickens any time soon.

"Lucas hates me, so I'm sure he's probably told everyone by now." She finished.

Oscar smirked. "You seem pretty sure he's a bad person."

Ariel leant her head on her hand. "I know he's not a bad person. Half the time it's me being a bitch that makes him act like a jerk. The other half of the time he's being a jerk without any help, which makes me act like a bitch. It's the circle of bitchy life."

"Maybe you need to break the circle. Stop being a bitch, as you put it."

She glared at him. "If he stops being a jerk, then I'll stop being a bitch."

They fell into silence and she started playing a few strands of her hair. The grandfather clock chimed and she glanced at her phone. It was 0230. Oscar was looking at her strangely and she wondered if maybe he was annoyed she was hanging around. "Do you want me to go?"

He started. "What?"

She stood up. "I can go into the other room if you want. I get that you don't get your... human time that much so I'm probably bugging you right, with all my drama? I'll just go and read in the dining room."

She started walking out when Oscar shot out of his chair, grabbing her arm. "Don't go." She glanced at his hand, raising an eyebrow and he quickly let her go, cheeks turning crimson. "Sorry, I just meant we can share the room and..."

"And?"

"It's nice, talking to someone like this... as a human I mean."

She turned around fully to face him. "If you miss talking to other people, then why don't you just tell everyone? I mean it can't be that bad."

"I-I can't," he stammered. He turned away. "When I'm a cat, I don't always think human. I just do what a cat normally does without thinking. I tried to tell someone once before and after that they treated me differently." He turned back to face her. "I'm already different. I don't need to be treated anymore like a freak."

Her face softened. "You aren't a freak, Oscar. If you can't help it when you turn into a cat, then screw those who don't understand that. No one here is a freak. We all just got dealt crappy life cards."

"You're being nice," he said slowly. "What's up with that? You aren't exactly nice to everyone else."

She glared at him. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not always a bitch. I'm trying to be nice because I'm tired of arguing with everyone. I just want – I just wish..." she sighed, dropping back onto the couch. "I wish I could go back in time before I started being an idiot."

Oscar sat beside her. "You do realize if you did that you wouldn't be born?"

"Hey!" She elbowed him, a small smile lighting her face. "Not funny."

"When did you start being an idiot then?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "Probably in high school when I decided I wanted to be like my sister. Second worst decision I ever made."

"What was the first?"

"Thinking I could pull off a fringe."

"A what?"

"A fringe." She realized he had a tinge of an American accent. "Um it's the same as bangs? That's what American's call it, right?"

He chuckled and her scar hurt again. "That was worse than wanting to be like your sister?"

"If you'd seen my hair you'd see my point," she muttered. She could feel his body through the couch shaking with laughter and she elbowed him again. "Stop it."

"Sorry. So what are you doing down here anyway? Jet lag?"

"No. I haven't had problems with that."

"Then why aren't you sleeping?"

Her good mood faded. "Something happened today and it's on my mind. Can't sleep because of it."

"You mean the thing with Lucas and Peyton and your sister?"

"Hmm? No. I mean – no."

"Not a very definitive answer." He smirked.

"Argh." She scrunched her fingers into her hair, digging her palms into her eyes. "I heard something today, about someone and I don't know if I should tell them or not."

"Who is it about?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, but I don't think I should say anything. It wasn't very nice and I think only the person involved should know about it."

"You know I can't tell anyone, right? Unless they know how to speak Cat."

She smiled grimly. "I know, but it doesn't feel right, you know?"

"So tell them." He replied simply.

"I can't. It's complicated and if I tell them they probably won't believe me and then I'll just look crazy –" she scrunched up her hair more. "I don't know what to do."

"You look pretty crazy right now."

"Not helping!" She snapped.

"Do you want my help?" He offered, shifting to face her.

She glanced at him through the curtain of her hair. "If you were me," she whispered. "What would you do?"

He considered her question for a moment. "If you tell this person, will it hurt them?"

She nodded. "If I don't tell them though they will still be hurt and humiliated. I can't do to that to someone again. It's..." she shook her head. "I just can't."

He raised an eyebrow. "How will it hurt them?"

"Because if I don't tell them then they will only be living with a false belief that they are happy." She raised her hands weakly. "That's not right, is it?"

"It's still happiness, isn't it?"

"So you think I shouldn't tell them?"

He was silent. "Then, I think you should tell them."

She twisted her body, biting her lip. "Really?"

He nodded. "Lies don't last forever. Whatever it is, they are bound to figure it out and I'm sure they'd rather a friend tell them than discovering it on their own."

"We aren't really friends –" she began awkwardly.

"Doesn't matter." He replied simply. "Tell them the truth before they get too hurt."

"Okay," she said slowly. "I will tell them the truth then." She poked his leg. "You don't want to do it for me?"

He grinned. "Nope, it's all on you, Blondie."

"Wonderful," she muttered. She was thinking about getting herself a drink and asking him if he wanted one when her phone screen lit up. She'd forgotten that she'd left the data running. She looked at the screen and her mood lifted at the name of the caller.

"Sorry, Oscar. I have to take this." He nodded in understanding and before she could move to the dining room, he got up.

"You stay here. I'll see you later, Ariel."

"See you." She quickly answered the call. "Hi Grandpa!"

"Hey there kiddo. Where on earth have you been that you can't call your worried Grandpa?"

Her throat clogged up. "I'm sorry. I was in a place with bad service."

"Well I'm glad I finally got a hold of you. The old place has been quiet without you. My checkers board is gathering dust for the first time since you were six years old."

She laughed. "When I get home I'm going to kick your butt."

"I'd like to see you try kiddo." She could hear the grin in his voice. "How is your holiday going? Will you be gone much longer?"

"My holiday is great!" Tears welled in her eyes. She hated lying to her Grandpa. "I've made heaps of new friends and England is so pretty."

"Good, good, you always were good at making friends." He coughed. It sounded harsh and she sat taller.

"Are you okay, Grandpa? That doesn't sound very good."

"I'm fine, honey. Just a little cold. Nothing I can't handle."

"Are you sure? Have you been to the Doctor yet? You should probably get it checked just to be sure –"

He chuckled. "You sound just like your sister." Her nose scrunched in disgust as he continued. "She's already marched me to a doctor and I'm on some lovely green pills that are wreaking havoc on my digestive system –"

"Ew, Grandpa that's too much information."

He laughed again and it turned into a cough. "You know I don't beat around the bush with you kiddo. We tell it like it is."

Tears started falling. "I know," she choked.

She heard him shift on the other end. "You okay, Kiddo?"

"Yep! I'm fine, just tired. It's pretty late here."

"What time is it?"

She looked at her phone, struggling to see the blurry numbers. "It's three AM."

"What the devil are you doing up at this hour?" He growled. "You should be in bed!"

She laughed, wiping the tears away. "I got a call from my Grandpa. No way I was going to not answer."

"Aw, you're a sweet girl." She heard that familiar break in his voice that meant he was getting emotional. His voice always became gruff when he was trying to keep them under control. "You head to bed now and I'll call you again at a reasonable hour."

"Okay, talk to you soon Grandpa. Thanks for calling me." Her grip on the phone tightened. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, kiddo," he said quietly. "Goodnight. Love you."

"Love you, Grandpa."

The call disconnected and she let sob that had been lodged in her throat free, curling in on herself tighter as she allowed herself to cry. Two times today she had cried. That had to be a record. She hated crying. She didn't move until all the tears had dried up.

Soon the grandfather clock was chiming four o'clock and she dragged herself off the couch and slowly made her way back to bed, forgetting to look for Oscar and say goodnight.