Suffice it to say that after the obligatory family dinner that I'd been subjected to after the graduation ceremony, I returned to my bedroom quickly that night when Mom, Dad, and I had returned home. With Clayton and Fionn still at their party, and Carla and Charlie spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa's place, I knew that my parents would be taking it to their bedroom sooner rather than later. I trekked upstairs to my bedroom, shutting the curtains around my window and shutting the door behind me.

Popping my earbuds into my ears and cranking up Rogue Traders Voodoo Child into my ears, I felt as if the song was my personal anthem as I slipped off my dress, and yanked on a sports bra and a pair of shorts before I hastily tapped up my knuckles. I made a grab for one of my hair ties atop my dresser then, combing my hair with my fingers and yanking it into place, so as my raven mane was in a long ponytail down my back. Facing my punching bag head on, with each second that ticked by, I readily poised myself, bracing my wrists for impact. The smash that came with each swing of my fist was quite pleasant, my right hook very impressive, which Pops had worked on with me for the past five years.

"Being half-Milkovich in this neighborhood," he'd told me, "you've got a reputation to hold up to, kid."

"Think I can do it, Pops?"

"I know you can do it, kiddo. You're also half-Gallagher. Milkovich's know how to fight, and Gallagher's know how to never give up."

"Never. Give. Up!" I said through gritted teeth, suddenly jumping back to the present with my thoughts, repeatedly slamming my fists into that godforsaken bag. Had to have been one of the best presents Pops had procured for me; it was a total shocker at my tenth birthday party, but a ready hit with me, literally. "You're half-Gallagher, half-Milkovich, dammit," I went on, always through my teeth, ignoring the drips of sweat which dripped down my temples. "Never. Fucking. Give. Up!"

I went on and on that way for what must've been a solid hour, until the bones in my arms were threatening to crack under pressure. Ripping my earbuds from my ears, I rolled my shoulders and ripped the tape from my knuckles, grabbing a towel and moving towards my bathroom. As the oldest child, my parents had had an en suite bathroom installed for me, in what used to be a linen closet in the main hallway. It didn't matter to them; I was a naturally a private person when it came to bathing habits, and I didn't want just anyone to catch me in a towel. Stepping inside, I shut and locked the door behind me, hanging up my towel on the peg behind the door and taking off my sports bra and shorts.

Turning on the hot water quickly enveloped the bathroom with steam, and I flicked on the fan to prevent suffocation or some shit. Stepping into the shower, I felt my muscles responding almost instantly to the hotness of the temperature, unknotting themselves easily. I shampooed and conditioned my hair expertly and quickly, making sure to get the sweat particles from my body as the hum of the fan echoed in my ears. After a few minutes, I let myself out and made a grab for my towel, drying my hair quickly and stepping back out into my bedroom, throwing my dirty clothes in the hamper.

I caught sight of my phone then, raising my eyebrows as it lit up from its place on my bed, where it was plugged into the wall charger beside it. Perplexed, I went to my dresser and grabbed a pair of panties, yanking them on as I migrated back over to my phone. Seeing Fionn's number and contact photo popping up, I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless swiped right on the green phone icon and placed the electronic device up against my ear.

"Yeah?" I said into it.

"Thank god you picked up!" Fionn said into the phone, his voice desperate.

Immediately, I was concerned, and my heart thudded in my chest. "What the hell is going on over there?!" I demanded, trying to keep my voice down.

"Clayton chugged a keg and he's passed out," Fionn said, obviously not wanting to get into trouble himself.

"Jesus," I muttered, dragging my hand over my face and moving towards my dresser again, making a grab for a pair of capri pants and a tank top. "Where the fuck are you guys?"

"Brian Selmer's place, across town," Fionn told me quickly. "I'm locked in one of the upstairs bathrooms with Clayton..."

"Fine. I'm coming," I told him, quickly tying my shoelaces on my sneakers and disengaging my phone from the wall charger. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll be there, okay?"

"Okay," Fionn replied shakily.

"See you soon," I assured him, grabbing my keys and hanging up. I yanked the curtains out of the way then, swinging open the window and bracing myself against its frame, using the ladder to climb down and to hurry by the side of the house and through the front yard area. I dashed towards the gate and swung it open, kicking it shut behind me and running faster than lightning across the street, yanking open the other gate and running up the steps of the porch, using my key and letting myself inside. "Pops!" I shouted. "Uncle Ian!"

There was a loud thump from upstairs, followed by a "Fuck!" and I immediately felt bile encroaching on my throat as I considered what was happening up there. I stepped into the living room, hearing more bangs from upstairs and then the sounds of footsteps as they both headed down together, shoes in their hands, belts undone, and hair messed-up. I looked away from the two of them, slightly embarrassed at the state I'd found them in, waiting for them to make themselves presentable as I leaned casually against the couch. I could give a fuck as to what happened in the bedroom; it was the notion that my biological father and uncle were doing to one another that really made my stomach turn because it was them...

"You okay, kiddo?" Pops asked.

I chanced a look at them and, seeing that they were presentable, immediately felt relieved. "It looks like Clayton hit a kegger pretty hard at that party," I said, and both of them swore under their breath. "He's passed out in one of the bathrooms, and Fionn's freaking out."

"Okay," Pops said, nodding as Uncle Ian fetched the baseball bat from the corner. "Where we going, then?"

"Brian Selmer's place," I replied. "My GPS can direct us."

"Good," Uncle Ian replied, putting his hands on Pops's and my shoulder and guiding us back to the open front door. "Let's get going."

I nodded, moving quickly towards my car as Uncle Ian locked up the house; Pops got into the passenger seat, with Uncle Ian getting into the back. I was riding driver's side, and immediately stuck my key into the ignition, showing Pops the text with the address, which he quickly keyed into the GPS system. I pulled out from my parking space then, not wanting to hit so hard on the gas, but also knowing that I needed to get Clayton the hell outta there. As we drove, Pops and Uncle Ian discussed potential strategies, while all the while I kept my ears closed and eyes glued to the darkening road ahead. The sun was just beginning to set, and it would be dark by the time I got the boys home. Hopefully, however, Mom and Dad would be too passed out in marital bliss to give much of a fuck.

"Looks like this is the house," Pops said around twelve minutes later as we pulled up at a Cape Cod house, which was way nicer than our ghetto.

"Okay," Uncle Ian said, keeping a good grip on the baseball bat as he and Pops moved to get out of the car.

I moved up to the door first, knowing how to handle teenage boys if things got too out of hand. I knew that the twins were only twelve, and nearly as wise beyond their years as I was, but the notion that Mom and Dad had actually let them go to a party like this... I shook my head as I stopped myself from kicking the door in, knowing I shouldn't pass judgement automatically, and merely opened it, Pops and Uncle Ian just behind me. The blaring music pumped from the speakers, directly into my ears, as I yanked my phone out of my pocket, taking Fionn's directions to the bathroom that he and Clayton were holed up in to heart as I moved towards the staircase and hesitantly climbed it.

"You okay?" Uncle Ian asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. You two scope out down here. I'll take the upstairs."

"You sure?" Pops wanted to know.

I smiled at them. "Positive. Go ahead and search. I'll be fine." I continued up the stairs, the atrocious carpet I stepped on stained terribly with the beer that Clayton had likely consumed that night, and I knew the owners would have a hell of a cleaning bill ahead of them.

"Look at who we've got here," said a guy, causing my gaze to snap upwards then at the voice, as I knew it was addressing me. This guy, who was obviously in high school and seemed pretty proud of that fact, as he attempted to corner me on the landing. "I didn't know we were having entertainment brought here tonight," he said, the scent of cheap beer wafting into my nostrils and making me want to gag. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"I don't give my name out to strangers," I said, attempting to sidestep him.

"Hey, baby, don't be like that," he said, placing both of his meaty hands on either side of my head, his palms against the wall, effectively blocking me in. "Now, as a man, I asked you a question. As a woman, you're expected to answer me."

"Who are you, and what age-old decade did you escape from?" I asked, my tone filled with malice as I stared up at him.

The guy's eyes narrow slightly then, and he slams one of his hands, so suddenly a fist, into the wall beside one of my ears, the sound resembling gun fire. "I really hate it when chicks just come into my house and don't tell me their name," he growls down at me. "Now, are you going to be nice and give it to me, or be a fucking cunt and get punished?"

I forced myself to grin up at him, before I reached behind him before he could blink, twisting his arm around his back and slamming him, without hesitation, up against the wall where he had just attempted to pin me and do god knows what for my behavior. "Wouldn't you like to know, big boy," I said, and he immediately stiffened in my grip. "I'll take being a fucking cunt any day, thank you very much. Now, unless you want to take a little trip down the stairs, you'll leave me the fuck alone."

"I... I'm going downstairs," he said, and I let him go, fighting the urge to trip him as I turned and walked the rest of the way up the stairs. I counted the doors along the hallway, finally finding the one that Fionn had indicated and knocked. "Fionn? You in there?"

The door opened slowly, and Fionn's dark brown eyes, the same shade as mine and our Aunt Fiona's, stared back at me. "Jesus, Iana," he said, throwing open the door and throwing himself into my arms. "I'm so glad you came..."

Immediately, I held him to me; since we were children, I'd become a surrogate mother to the boys, since our mother's dirty dealings with Tommy Matthews. Even though our dad had returned to our lives and things were good again, our mom making us a priority in the public eye once more, the bond had not been severed, as evidenced by tonight. "I would never not come, Fionn, you know that," I told him gently, relieved that I didn't smell any beer on him as I moved into the bathroom, regarding Clayton lying lengthwise on the bathroom floor. "Jesus Christ, Clayton," I said, letting Fionn go and crossing over to him. "Has he puked?"

"Yeah. Just passed out a few minutes before you came."

I nodded. "Okay," I said, grabbing some toilet paper and running it under the water of the sink, dabbing at the remainder of the vomit, caked around his lips. "Go downstairs and get Pops and Uncle Ian."

"Wait... You brought them?"

I turned and looked at Fionn then, raising my eyebrows at his tone. "Yeah, I fucking brought them, because, like it or not, I can't be fucking Wonder Woman every fucking second," I hissed at him, turning back to Clayton and finishing cleaning around his mouth. "Go downstairs and get them and then we can get the hell outta here, okay?"

Sighing, knowing that winning was impossible, Fionna rolled his eyes before he left the bathroom and made his way downstairs. I bit my lip then, throwing the piece of soiled toilet paper away before I dried off the wet sections of his mouth with a fresh piece and throwing it away as well. Tentatively, I lifted him up then, hoisting him up and allowing his head to dangle along my backside as I took him out of the bathroom and towards the staircase. Pops and Uncle Ian, followed by Fionn, met us there, with Pops taking over carrying duties as we made our way towards the front door, and out into the darkening summer night.

"Saw you handle what's-his-name on the staircase," Pops told me as we drove through the night, back towards home.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah. Like a true Milkovich," he said, punching me in the arm.

"Hey, can't complain," I replied.

We drove the rest of the way home in virtual silence, with Uncle Ian and Fionn making sure that Clayton didn't hurl in my backseat. Once we arrived back home, I told them that I could take it from there, and Pops and Uncle Ian walked across the street. After locking up my car, Fionn opened up the front door of the house, and we conspicuously carried Clayton upstairs, with Fionn carrying his legs. Once we got to their shared bedroom, I threw Clayton onto his bed, fingers crossed that he wouldn't throw up again. Finally, when he remained passed out, I told Fionn to get him a glass of water and some pain pills before I slowly moved towards the door to leave their bedroom.

"Wait. You're done helping?"

"Done helping?" I asked, turning to face him. "You have got to be fucking kidding me right now, Fionn."

Fionn shrugged. "You could get him the water and pain pills..."

"Yeah, or you fucking could," I shot back.

He rolled his eyes. "You're supposed to be the oldest."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"The oldest kids help..."

"Yeah, I am the oldest," I shot back, "and I do a lot of shit for you. I help you make good grades in school by being your personal fucking tutor. I make your lunches, or make sure you have cash to buy lunch. I go grocery shopping several times a week, just to make sure there's food in the house, because our parents work a shit ton of work hours. I make sure that you, Clayton, Carla, and Charlie are all up on time for school, and hell, sometimes I even take you there. I do your fucking laundry, knowing your various schedules, and knowing when you need certain clothes for certain activities, while I had a fucking job, I might add," I said, hating when I felt my face flush and tears falling. "I do a shit ton for you, Fionn; hell, I was your fucking mother when I was a fucking child, because our own mother couldn't be fucking bothered. I was a goddamn toddler, and you two were fucking babies... Do you know how long it took me to learn how to change a diaper? Thirty fucking seconds, because Uncle Ian was constantly running around, managing the house, and making sure that Uncle Liam didn't shirk off school duties. I may only be three and a half years older than you two, Fionn, but I've done so much for you, I may as well be an old woman. You're my fucking kids; you have been since Mom shacked up with Tommy. I know that their relationship is dead and gone, and that he's rotting away in a prison cell somewhere, and that Mom took us back, but I never stopped being your guys's parent. So don't just stand there and tell me that I never fucking help you, or I'm trying to go and get a good night's sleep, because I fucking deserve it. I just graduated high school for Christ's sake, Fionn, and I want a fucking break. I didn't sign up to be your mom, it just fucking happened."

Fionn lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Good," I said, walking out of the room.

"Hey, I thought you said you were tired," Fionn cried out then, watching as I moved back towards the staircase.

"I'm always tired," I replied, my tone bitter as I walked down the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"Out for some air," I replied, my voice ragged. "You get Clayton his pain pills and water, and keep an eye on him. I need to get out for a while," I told him, opening the front door and shutting it behind me, wanting more than anything to slam it. My keys were still gripped in my hand from before, cutting indentations into my skin, I noticed as I walked down the stairs of the porch and back towards my car. I let myself in, slamming that door behind me and massaging my temples, my face still flushed, and my eyes most likely red-rimmed. Rolling my shoulders, I fished my phone out of my pocket, going to the contacts icon and scrolling through, landing on the 'L's', before I selected a number and listened to the rings.

"Iana?" came the reply on the second ring.

"I need to see you," I whispered, willing for my voice not to break.

"Are you okay?"

"Hell of a night," I replied. "I just... I really need to see you..."

"Of course. Where should I meet you?"

"Meet me at Patsy's in fifteen minutes," I replied. I hung up then, managing to somewhat gather my thoughts before driving towards the diner quickly, and parking in the small alley lot that my mother had fashioned a few years back. I slipped from my car, slamming and locking the door behind me and making my way towards the back entrance, unlocking the door quickly and letting myself inside. I stood in the coldness of the room, locking the door behind me, just waiting for him to arrive.

At his knock just a couple of minutes later, I opened the door and pulled him inside, his expression one of shock as he took in my expression. I threw my arms around him, willing myself not to break down again, and he just stood there for several moments, holding me. I barely knew him, and yet, I was very close to trusting him with my life. The notion of him just holding me caused my skin to burn with a fire that I'd no idea would ever exist for me, and my heart was hammering in my ears faster than I thought possible.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

I bit my lip, finally breaking away from him and slowly looking up at him. "Just a lot of family drama," I replied, shrugging. "Complete bullshit, really."

Liam smirked slightly at the analogy. "I don't think anything having to do with you or your family could be called bullshit, Iana."

"One of my brothers drank at a party," I replied, and he raised his eyebrows. "I got called to go and get him, by his twin, and so I did..."

"You have twin brothers?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Clayton and Fionn."

"How old are they?"

"Twelve," I replied.

Liam was stunned. "Twelve? And drinking?"

"Hey, I started at thirteen, don't judge," I put in.

Liam threw up his hands. "No judgement," he said quickly, but I saw that he was, and I didn't blame him for it. "So, Clayton's going to be okay?"

I nodded. "He'll be fine. Just hit a kegger too hard and passed up. He'll wake up with a bitch of a hangover tomorrow, but he'll be fine..."

"Guess it's cool to have a big sister who'll bail you out like that..."

"They're my kids," I replied, and Liam looked surprised at my statement. "I'd bail them out of anything, if I could..."

"Your kids?"

I nodded again. "My kids."

"How are they your kids?"

I bit my lip. "When I was a little girl, my adoptive father's old record came to light," I said. "He went on the run, worried about what would happen. While he was gone, my mom took up with the very cop that brought up the record."

"Jesus," Liam said.

I nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. Tommy had my mom move me, Clayton, and Fionn out of the house, and our Uncle Ian, my mom's twin brother, took custody of us for the next year and a half or so. In that time, Clayton and Fionn saw me as their mother, and even though we're back with our mom now..." I shrugged my shoulders. "Guess I just never grew out of the role..."

"They your only siblings?"

I shook my head. "No. I also have a younger sister, Carla, and a baby brother, Charlie. He's just the baby of the family...he's not really a baby..."

Liam smiled. "I understand. I have a younger sister, Penelope."

I returned his smile. "She must really look up to you..."

"Not as much as Clayton and Fionn look up to you, I'm sure."

I locked my eyes with his then, and felt my lips part automatically, fearful of the answer, but also wanting to know the truth. "Is it only from a legal standpoint?"

Liam blinked. "Is what only from a legal standpoint?"

"Don't be stupid," I replied, my voice cutting then, the tenderness gone from the moment. "I'm talking about you turning me down earlier."

Liam sighed, obviously annoyed that we were back to this. "Iana..."

"No, I want to know," I replied, not daring to move from where I stood. "Is it because I'm not your type, or some shallow shit like that? Come on, Kennedy. I deserve to know the truth here, considering it's me we're talking about..."

"You and me," Liam cut in.

"Yeah, you and me," I replied, my tone bitter again. "What's so goddamned unappealing about me, then, Liam?"

"Jesus, Iana..."

"No, I want to know," I said, cutting across him. "Am I not your type or something? Why wouldn't you take advantage of this? I was practically begging for you to take me right there, underneath the fucking bleachers. I was fucking begging for it; you know it, and I know it. I just want to understand why you didn't take advantage of that..."

"Christ Iana! I'm five years older than you! Do you realize what could happen if the cops got wind of what I did, or what I wanted to do?!"

"I fucking hate cops," I said through my teeth, "so they're not getting anything from me, trust me, Liam. It's not like I'd shout it from the fucking rooftops or some shit..."

"Iana, it's not just about what you and I want here," Liam said then, his tone firm. "There's the law to consider. From a legal standpoint..."

"I could give a fuck about the fucking law," I replied. "Those laws were put in place to prevent assault, which I'm all for. But I'm here telling you that you fucking have my consent. I'm asking for it, begging for it. Do you expect me to stand here and fucking believe that you don't fucking want me at all?!"

Liam shook his head. "You don't know me, Iana..."

"I know all I need to know," I replied, and, finally, allowed myself to step closer to him, my heart pounding in my ears. "Please..."

"Fucking Christ!" Liam said through his teeth, grabbing me by the arms then and slamming me up against the wall, the intensity of his stare making me hotter than ever before. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you think I don't fucking want you?"

"Well... Do you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Liam continued staring at me. "What do you think?"

"Obviously, I wouldn't know," I replied, "so I had to ask..."

Liam continued staring down at me then, before he turned me lose and made his way back towards the door. "I'm not doing this..."

"Doing what?" I demanded then, springing back into action and going after him. "Admitting to your baser instincts? It's not a crime..."

"Yeah, it is a fucking crime, Iana, because, in the eyes of the law, you're a fucking child..."

"Yeah, who has been adulting since she was three," I replied. "That makes me nineteen, in terms of years, meaning I'm an adult mentally."

Liam, by this time, had stopped walking away from me, but kept his back to me. "It's not that simple, Iana. And you know it."

"Then I'll make it simple for you," I replied. "I want you, Liam Kennedy. I want you sexually right now. I want you to bend me over backwards, or slam me up against that wall again, or force my legs around your fucking torso. However you want to do it, I'm down. I'm not going to regret it in the morning, or go to the fucking cops. I'm not."

Liam shook his head. "Doesn't make a difference..."

"Fucking admit it!" I shouted then, my voice raw as he placed his hand on the door, ready to push it open, and potentially walk out of my life forever. "Fucking admit that you want me. You don't even have to fuck me... Just admit that you want me, Liam. Please. Admit it, and then I'll leave you alone forever if that's what you want..."

Liam's hand tightened into a fist. "You know that's not what I want, Iana..."

"Then fucking admit it," I told him. "Fucking admit what you do want..."

Liam turned around and faced me then, his silver eyes filled with torture and hesitation, intermingled with the heady sensation of desire. He merely stood there for a moment, almost as if he was amazed that I wasn't running away from him, and his eyebrows raised suddenly as I bit down, hard, on my lower lip. Finally, almost as if he'd reached his breaking point, he turned away from me then, shoving open the back door of the diner, which slammed behind him, the cold air of the night momentarily blasting me for a moment.

Immediately, I took a half-step forward towards the door, the tears frozen in my eyes, my confidence gone, stripped away from me then, in those seconds. My hand was raised slightly then to pull him back to me, but, of course, now that he was gone, the point was moot. "Liam," I said then, my voice ragged as it forced its way out from between my lips.

I turned away from the door then, stumbling towards the dining room of the restaurant, wanting to break something, anything. How had this man, one I'd only met three times, including twice that day, have such an affect on me? I didn't understand it, and probably never would... And it was the telltale squeak of the door from behind me that caused me to look up, and there he was again, staring at me from the edge of the threshold. I felt my mouth fall open then at the notion that he'd come back, and as I stood there, he came towards me then, and I lashed out, not knowing where my actions came from...

"Why would you fucking leave?!" I shouted at him then, punching him as hard as I could on his chest, making no moves to stop, the sensation of his muscled chest not lost on me as he tried to grab at my wrists, to stop my attack. "Why wouldn't you just fucking walk out like that?! Why would you—?!"

"Iana, please..."

I sighed, not knowing what else to do then, and so I did the only thing I knew how—I had to use my body to get what I wanted. It worked before, so why shouldn't it now? Without a moment's hesitation, I dropped down to my knees in front of him then, retching my wrists from his grasp as I yanked the zipper of his high-class jeans down, before I unbuckled his belt and yanked down his pants to his knees. I could sense that Liam was shocked by my actions, but he made no move to stop me as I pulled down his boxers, tears blurring my vision slightly as I found him within, and gasped aloud when I saw how ready he was for me.

"Iana..."

I knew I could no longer stand it, so I promptly took him into my mouth, knowing that I couldn't bear not being physical with him any longer. Once he passed through my lips, he stiffened against me, placing his hands against my shoulders, gently guiding me back and forth, matching my movements to a speed he liked. He continued stiffening around my lips, and I knew I'd be smirking if my mouth wasn't otherwise engaged...

"Fuck," he said then, and yanked me upwards before I could finish.

"Liam, what are you—?!"

My words ceased then, becoming a moan which became lost in his mouth, and I wrapped my arms around him then, molding my body perfectly against his. After a moment, not wanting to lose any momentum, I unhooked my arms from around his neck and dragged down my pants, ready and waiting to receive him. He didn't protest, or push me away; no, he kept me firmly in his arms, although we mutually gasped as he entered me then, and I wound my legs up and around his torso, urging him deeper inside me, and felt the sensation of my eyes rolling backwards in my head at the bodily feelings he evoked from me...

"Iana..."

"What?" I whispered, a groan escaping my lips as he pushed me against the wall, managing to slip even further inside me.

"We can't...tell anyone..."

I leaned forward then, capturing his lips with mine once more, needing another taste of him before I pulled away then. "My lips are sealed," I replied, my voice ragged once again, and he smiled, slamming into me further this time, as I kept my arms wrapped tightly around him to prevent him from changing his mind again.