Aiden and I walked for quite a bit. We were definitely not in up-town Portland anymore.

The buildings here were smaller and close together, as if huddling together from the cold of the winter wind. There were a few miscellaneous diners and cafes. There were some clothing shops and boutiques. It was quaint and homely. It was calm.

As we walked side by side, I felt my bare legs growing numb. Although the gesture had been nice, Aiden's blazer was not doing a very good job of protecting my pale skin from the bitter cold of the late-December air. And he seemed to be turning purple from the cold, too. The slight hairs on his bare arms seemed to be standing upright and little bumps covered his skin.

He looked over at me.

"Let's change," he suggested, gesturing at a shop that was still open. I nodded and followed him inside.

The warm air from the heater in the store bit at my skin in an almost painful way. After a few minutes, though, my internal and external body temperature adjusted. I realized now that my legs, feet, and hands were numb from the cold.

I grabbed a pair of dark wash denim, a black long-sleeved V-neck sweater and a dark brown faux leather bomber jacket. Aiden grabbed a pair of dark jeans, a navy striped zip-up hoodie and a black jacket. We asked the only girl that was working in the store if we could go into the dressing rooms and she nodded at the only two that were in the store. We took our clothes into the separate rooms.

"This feels so much better," Aiden said. From the room next door, I could hear him changing. I, too, took off my dress and pulled on the jeans which instantly warmed my legs. I pulled the sweater on over my head and then shrugged on the jacket, which fit perfectly. I grabbed my dress and ripped off all the tags. I ran my fingers through my hair to tame it slightly before walking out. Aiden walked out at the same time, holding his own clothes in his arms.

We both reached the register at the same time. I realized I didn't have my wallet on me, so Aiden paid for our clothes. They were relatively cheap, which was surprising. After that, we deposited our other clothes into a bag that we got from the shop and then we walked back out into the cold.

We walked a short distance, then Aiden suggested we go inside a quiet cafe. When we walked inside, I was surprised to see that no one was in there, except for one employee who had headphones in her ears and was listening to very loud music. When we walked in, the employee looked up at us. He sighed loudly, as if annoyed that he now had to do some work, and then approached us as we sat down. He popped out one of his earbuds and looked at us from behind his boxy glasses.

"What can I get you?" he asked, his tone indicating boredom and annoyance.

"Just two hot chocolates, thanks," Aiden replied. His eyes looked tired, his expression somber. The employee walked away into the back kitchen. Aiden and I looked at each other from across the dirty wooden table. The fluorescent lights above made both of our skin look pale and sickly. I knew I had dark circles under my eyes from crying.

The employee came back after a few minutes and set down two cups of steaming hot chocolate in front of us. Then he placed his earbud back in his ear and went back to the counter to continue listening to his music, which we could faintly hear from where we were sitting.

"Why are we here?" I asked Aiden after we stared at each other for a few long moments.

"I thought we needed to get away for a while," he replied.

"We?" I asked.

"I had to get out of that mad house," he explained. I nodded.

"It's so empty here..." I mumbled.

"It's Christmas Eve. Everyone's probably nice and warm at home," he said.

We sat and looked at each other in silence again. Aiden lifted his cup and tilted it slightly to check if the hot chocolate was still searing hot. I guess it had cooled down, because he took a sip and then set it back down on the table top.

"I guess you want to talk about what Laura said..." I began. He shook his head.

"Not if you don't want to," he said.

I looked at him and wondered who this person was. He had seen me crying, yelling and pleading to be free, and had no doubt wanted to know what it was that was torturing me so much. And now he knew and he was saying he didn't want to know unless I was comfortable telling him. If it was any other person, they'd be demanding an explanation. But not him; not Aiden.

"I want to, but I don't know how," I said, my voice quiet. I lowered my gaze so my bangs fell into my eyes, masking their sadness.

"I'll start, then," he said. Now I looked up at him, my expression curious.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I'll tell you what happened to me. And then, if you feel comfortable afterwards, you can tell me what happened to you. But don't feel pressured that just because I told you what happened with me, that you have to tell me what happened to you. It's no pressure. You can tell me if you want. I'm telling you because..." he trailed off, his eyes sincere. "Because I want you to be able to trust me like I trust you," he finished. I shook my head.

"How do you know you can trust me?" I asked him, grasping my cup of hot chocolate, feeling the warmth from the liquid inside the cup flow into my hand.

"Because I do," he replied simply.

"You have no idea who I am," I told him.

"I think I have some idea," he said. I looked at him in disbelief.

"Name one thing about me that you know," I said.

"You never smile," he answered immediately. I felt my cheeks flush and looked down at my pale hands. They contrasted sharply with the dark oak wood of the table. I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. He was right. I didn't ever smile. Not anymore at least.

"So will you hear me out?" he asked me, taking my silence as an answer. I nodded slowly, still not looking into his intense brown eyes.

"Do you want to stay here or go somewhere else?" he asked.

"Whatever makes you comfortable," I replied quietly.

"We'll sit here for a bit. I don't think we'll be bothered," he said, glancing back at the guy that was sitting at the counter, his music still on full volume. It sounded like angry rock music.

"All right...so where to start?" he asked, more to himself than to me. He took a deep breath and then started.

"Like you, I am an orphan," he began. Now I looked up at him, my attention caught immediately. "My mother died giving birth to me. My father was an alcoholic and had killed someone in a drunken rage. He was sent to prison and killed himself in there. So what to do with me? Little baby Aiden, all alone and unable to take care of himself," he said.

"They--the authorities--stuck me in a Catholic orphanage. We held mass everyday, prayed before starting every class, and read the Bible in our spare time. It was hell and I hated it, even in my naiive and undeveloped mind. I didn't like the kids there. I didn't like the nuns there. I didn't like the atmosphere. It was all so fake. The nuns tried to make it seem like we didn't have it so bad there. They tried to tell us we were special. Special for what? Being abandoned? Being left behind? It was so hypocritical; a big fat lie," he told me.

"But one day, things turned around. A family came to adopt a child and bring it home to live with them, to call their own child. We all dressed up and tried to look our best. But I didn't want to. What was the point of dressing up? That wasn't who we actually were. We were actually poor, skinny orphans that were unloved. And so I didn't dress up. I didn't try to impress them. I just sat there, at the piano that was in the room, and played off-key music to myself."

"Well, this intrigued the family. They came up to me immediately. I noted that the mother--Charlotte was her name--had strawberry blonde hair and warm brown eyes. The father had ginger hair and blue eyes that sparkled behind his glasses. They had a child in their arms, a baby. He had fire engine red hair and bright blue eyes, just like his father. This was Nick. They told me that they had a daughter my age, named Keily, that was at school. They told me they couldn't have any more children, that the one in their arms was a blessing, and that they wanted desperately to have one more child. So they chose me."

"They brought me home and raised me as their own child. They never once made me feel like I was adopted. They never once loved me any less than their own children. They were the greatest parents ever and I repaid them for their kindness in the most horrible way possible."

"It was sophomore year of high school. I was sixteen. The soccer season had gone amazingly, thanks to me. I was a star soccer player in my old school, too. A scout from Rosestone had come to the game and had seen me play. He requested I go to play for Rosestone, who also has an amazing soccer team. He was even granting me full scholarship if I went. I told him I'd think about it. I didn't want to leave my friends and family.

"Anyway, so the team decided to have a wild party at the beach and I wanted to go. Keily had been invited, but didn't want to go. She begged me not to go, too, but I was stubborn and didn't listen. I snuck out and went to the party and she came along. She wanted me to be safe. She knew what would happen at the party. But I was too stupid to listent to her."

"There was drinking. A lot of it. Someone had brought beer and everyone was passing it around. It was great. I had an awesome time. But at the end of the night, I was drunk. And Keily couldn't drive. She didn't have her lisence yet, like me. So how was I supposed to get home? Other people had rides and we were left stranded on the beach, alone. I told her I could drive, but she said no. She argued and said that we had to call our parents. I got angry and yelled at her, telling her she was crazy and that I'd be grounded for life if they found out. I grabbed the keys out of her hand and forced her to get into the passenger seat. I was going to drive."

Aiden paused now. His face was pale and his eyes were dark, almost black, now. His hands shook as they grabbed onto his cup of hot chocolate. His eyes darted back and forth, from mine to behind me back to mine to the ceiling...

I felt his toe tapping on the ground, his leg shaking. I could feel my own heart racing, because I knew how this story would end. He took a sip of his drink, which was probably cold now.

"It was the worst mistake of my life. I was drunk and my reflexes were slow. I tried to make a yellow light, but was too slow. Our light had turned red and the other light had turned green. A huge Hummer that hadn't seen the small car that we were in came speeding forward. His car collided head on from the side that Keily was sitting in. Somehow, I survived. I woke up the next day in the hospital with a wicked headache that was caused partially from my hangover, but mostly from the car crash. I had woken up and saw my mother sitting on a chair next to my bed. Her face was down on the bed, her pale hands were holding onto one of mine. When she heard me stirring, she sat up, a look of relief falling on her face."

"This is what scared me the most. Why was she so relieved? Why were her eyes so dark? Where was Dad? Where was Keily? What happened to her? I sat up and asked her these questions and she broke into heavy sobs and I didn't need an answer. I knew what I had done. I knew what had happened."

"They held the funeral after I was released from the hospital the next day. It was so creepy. They put a white lace dress on Keily. It was so odd. She looked so beautiful in that dress, despite the numerous cuts and scrapes on her face. Her hair looked so silky, but she was so pale. But of course she was. She was dead. And it was all my fault."

"I couldn't forgive myself. My parents did. They told me it was a mistake. But I wouldn't listen to them. How could they forgive me? How could they call it a mistake? I had deliberately killed her, their child, their flesh and blood, their only daughter. I knew I couldn't drive while drunk. Keily knew I couldn't drive while I was drunk. I should have listened to her. I should have never gone to the party in the first place. I was so stupid."

"I couldn't stand living there. The atmosphere had become so depressing. I couldn't look at my parents because even though they smiled and me and told me they loved me, I knew they hated me. It had to be a lie. Who would love a monster that had killed their child? I had destroyed their family. So I decided I needed to leave."

"I called Rosestone and accepted their offer to play soccer there. I wanted to get as far away from where I lived as possible. And Rosestone is in Maine. I used to live in California. My parents found out what I was trying to do, but they didn't stop me. Instead, they enrolled Nick in the same school. That way, I couldn't avoid them. But they didn't know how good I was at staying away."

"I didn't want to take Nick away from them. He just developed a bond with me automatically. For some reason, he had forgiven me for what I had done to his sister. Instead, he looked to me like an idol. He followed me around and would try to act like me. And this pissed me off. Why would anyone want to be like me? I pushed him away, but he wouldn't stay away. I was never good to him. Not until I saw how much you cared about Mikey."

"My parents would send tickets to fly us back to California. I would rip them up and tell them that we never got them. They flew out here a couple times themselves, but I hid myself, making excuses and staying away. I wanted Nick to go back with them, but he never would. He wanted to stay with me. He didn't want me to be alone. And I had no idea why."

"I never understood why he loved me so much. I never understood why my parents forgave me. I still don't. I haven't seen or spoken with them since it happened. It's been almost two years," he concluded.

He wasn't looking at me anymore. His gaze was fixed on the dirty table top. His voice sounded hollow and sad.

I had no idea what to think. I had no idea what to say. He had gone through so much. I would have never guessed that whatever happened to him had happened to him. All along I just thought he had gone through a bad divorce. But he hadn't. He had killed someone inadvertantly. Just like me.

"Is that whose calls you've been avoiding?" I asked after a long moment of silence. He nodded silently.

I didn't know what else to say to him. It's all right? It's not your fault?

But wouldn't that be hypocritical? I hated it when people said that to me because I knew it was my fault. If it weren't for me being so stubborn, my parents would still be alive right now. And me? I would still be the same Renee I was less than a year ago.

"Can we get out of here?" I asked him. He looked up at me now and nodded. He deposited a ten dollar bill on the table for the drinks and we left the cafe.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"We need a taxi," I said. He didn't question my request. Instead, we walked a few blocks out of the small town that we were in. Finally, we flagged down a taxi cab.

"Saint Mary's Graveyard, please," I requested the driver.

I felt Aiden's eyes on me as I leaned back against the seat. After a few moments, I felt him snake his arm around my waist and pull me closer to him. To my surprise, I let him. Instead of fighting him off and pushing him away like I usually did, I laid my head down on his shoulder. I felt him rest the side of his face against the top of my head. We sat just like this, in silence, for the 45 minutes it took to get to my requested destination.

When we got there, we asked the driver to wait for a bit. Then we got out of the car and began walking towards the graveyard. Aiden took my hand in his, intertwining his fingers with mine. His thumb drew small circles on my skin.

We walked up to the black wrought-iron gates of the graveyard. I pushed them open and we went inside. Our steps on the frozen snow was the only sound in the stillness of the night. I knew exactly where to go. I had no reason to search. I could find their graves with my eyes closed.

I led Aiden to my parents graves and when we reached them, we stopped. I glanced at Aiden as he read over the gravestone, reading the quotation my mother had loved. His expression was blank. I had no idea what he was thinking. Then he looked at me, his eyes tender. He pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his warmth.

Immediately, I felt a sense of comfort fall over me. He was here. He wasn't going to leave me. He would understand. After all, he was in the same situation as me.

So I told him.

We stood next to each other by my parents graves and I told him my story. I told him about who I was in the past: my cheerleading skills, my popularity, my intellect. I told him about our football team winning the homecoming game and about my grand idea to celebrate. I told him how stubborn and stupid I was. I told him how I couldn't see past my own needs and desires to see the safety of the people around me. And I told him about the storm, the vicious storm. And I told him the last words I ever said to my parents. And I told him how they died.

Then I told him how I lost everything I had: my popularity, my friends, my virginity. I felt him tense up next to me when I told him about Tyler. His jaw clenched and his eyes flashed. He had been quiet the entire time until now

"You have to tell someone," he said. I shook my head.

"There's no point. There was no harm done. I'm not pregnant," I replied. He glared at me.

"No harm done?! Look at you, Renee! You're a mess. And he didn't help at all. No wonder you stay away from people," he said. I shook my head.

"The only thing he ruined was my trust, and that was a good thing. I was too vulnerable having so many friends. I was the target of a lot of people. He made me snap down to reality and I saw that the people I called my 'friends' were nothing more than people looking for a chance to be friends with the most popular girl in the school. And when I no longer held that title, all those people turned their backs on me. It was a good thing. Now I'm wary of the people I choose to talk to," I explained. He continued to look angry. I placed a hand on his arm. He shook his head.

"You should've reported him. That jackass should be in jail," he said.

"There's no use. He would've been bailed, given community service, and then he'd be the same person he was. I've moved on," I said.

"Obviously you haven't. You've made a total of two friends at Rosestone, and they don't even really count, since you barely talk to them," he said.

"Who two?" I asked.

"Ben and Jen," he answered.

"What about you?" I asked.

"What about me?" he replied.

"Well, I wouldn't be telling you all of this unless I felt like I could trust you," I answered. His eyes lit up slightly.

"That still doesn't change the fact that you don't like people," he said.

"I made the choice to not make friends here because I didn't want anyone to get close enough to me to find out what happened. I hate that look of pity people give me. Yes, I'm an orphaned child. Don't look at me with those sorry eyes. It's not going to help. It's just going to remind me constantly of what I don't have," I told him. "Being alone made things easier. I didn't have to explain myself," I added. He shook his head.

"Being alone gives you time to think about what happened over and over again. At least with friends, you can be distracted," Aiden said.

"And how has that helped you?" I asked him. He stood quietly. "You still think about her, don't you? That's why your mood has changed so drastically from when I first met you. Something like death never leaves you. Especially when you've got something to do with it. You can't distract yourself, no matter what," I said.

"Then what do you suppose we do? Stay depressed our whole lives?" he snapped. I shook my head.

"I wish I could answer that. If I knew what I could do to make the pain stop, I would have done it long ago," I answered, looking down at my parents' graves. Aiden sighed.

"We should go back. The taxi's still waiting," he said. I nodded in agreement. He took my hand and we went back to the taxi, who drove us back home.

"They probably locked all the doors," I said as we walked up the circular driveway. Sure enough, the doors were locked.

"How are we getting in?" Aiden asked.

"I always keep my balcony door open. Come on," I said.

"Your room is on the third level of the house. How the hell are we getting up there?" Aiden asked when we went around back. He stood next to me, gazing up at the balcony that was outside of my room.

"The tree," I replied, nodding at the large oak tree that stood next to the house. Aiden raised an eyebrow at me.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said. I shook my head.

"No, I did this all the time whenever I stayed here during the summers with my family. Ben and I would sneak out to go to town and then we'd climb up the tree and get back in the house from my room. And I did this when my parents first...you know...and I wanted to go to their graves," I explained.

"You're crazy," he said. I smiled meekly at him and then placed my foot on the make-shift wooden ladder. There used to be a treehouse up in the tree before my relatives' children got older. Then they took the tree house down, but they kept the wooden steps bolted in. Gradually, I began climbing up. Aiden brought up the rear, holding out bag of clothes between his teeth. Once we got to the top, we had to climb up some branches before we could carefully jump to my balcony. I landed gracefully and took the bag from Aiden. Then I held my hand out to him and he jumped, too, landing smoothly next to me.

"See? That wasn't so bad," I said.

"Who knew you were such a bad ass before?" he asked. I shook my head and opened the balcony door with a click. We both stepped inside the warm, dark room.

"God, I hate this place," Aiden muttered. I nodded and turned the lamp light on.

"We should get to bed," I said, looking at the clock. It read 3:06 am.

He nodded, but came closer to me, He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me towards him. I felt a lump rise in my throat. I hadn't cried at all when I told him my story. But for some reason, now, I felt like I was vulnerable and weak.

I rested my head against his shoulder and he rubbed my back gently. After a few long moments, we pulled away.

"Good night, Renee," he said, softly brushing my hair out of my face.

"Good night, Aiden," I replied. He leaned in and kissed my forehead before leaving my room.

I sighed and locked my door.

It had been an eventful night. And I was tired.

______________________________________________________________________________

A/N: That was a doozy of a chapter!! Took me forever to write.

I hope you enjoyed it. Now you have both of their stories. What do you think they'll do now? Will they get together? How will they find a way to deal with their pasts? What about Ben?

You'll find out soon...

In the meantime, comment and vote, please!!!

XOXO