Apparently, things could get much worse.

She didn't know much time had gone by since her head braced her fall into the counter. It felt like hours, but it could have been minutes.

She remembered falling. She remembered floating in the darkness, and warm arms underneath her. This kind of warmth was something she had never experienced. She figured it wasn't real, just a part of her dream.

Raven knew she was in a bed, sinking into the soft plush, the smell of whoever it belonged to comforting her. But it wouldn't soothe the throbbing at her temple. She closed her eyes, hoping she could fall back into her dreamlike state and make it disappear.

If headaches could kill, then Raven was dying. Someone was hammering a nail into her skull-she was sure of it. But when she cracked open her eyes to glare at the perpetrator, she found Carson sitting in a chair across from her. His arms were crossed over his chest as he stared a hole through her.

Raven glanced away from him, trying to pretend he wasn't there, as she assessed her surroundings. The walls were painted a pale blue. Posters were scattered throughout framing famous baseball players and different rock bands. Raven couldn't quite ignore the fact that her favorite band was plastered on his wall.

She was in his room. His scent in the bed was the one that comforted her. It was his warm arms that she felt beneath her, carrying up the stairs. It all came back to her-his voice asking if she was okay, his eyes wide and scared even though he didn't know her. It was all so surreal. Knowing the dream was real, that he'd carried her up the stairs and she'd marveled at him through hazy eyes made her nerves shoot through the roof.

She squirmed under the heavy blanket that was making her sweat. Maybe if she sat up, her killer migraine would fade away and she could make her escape-despite Carson's watchful eyes. Slowly, she lifted her head from the pillow it was resting on.

Nope. Not happening.

The pain was worse. So much worse.

"Here," Carson said, reaching for the nightstand next to the bed. He grabbed the glass of water that was sitting there and held his hand out to Raven. Two round pills laid in his palm. "Take these. You'll feel better."

Raven didn't move.

"They're not poison," he said. "I promise."

Raven snatched the pills and water from his hands. She tossed the painkillers back and rested her head on the pillow once again. Sighing in defeat, she blew a stray black hair away from her face.

"So the blonde curls," Carson said, forcing Raven to look back at him. "It was just a wig."

"You caught me," she groaned. She kicked the comforter off her body, a shiver of relief shooting down her body as the cool air of the room caressed her skin. "As if it wasn't obvious enough just by looking at it," she bit out.

Carson shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, I thought it was real. Shoot me."

"Believe me. I would if I could."

"Oh really? Is that how you treat someone who takes care of you?"

She raised her brows at him. "Are you insinuating that you took care of me? You put me in your bed. Oh, wow. Try not to out-do yourself next time."

"My parents came home, you know."

Raven stopped breathing.

"Mom forgot her purse, but luckily, I'd already hidden you up here. I debated what to do with you. I thought about calling an ambulance, but then that would have been the same thing as calling the police. I gave my word that I wouldn't do that though, didn't I?"

Raven didn't reply. She only gave a small nod.

"After I made sure you weren't dead, I checked to see if you had a phone, maybe your mother could have come to get you."

Raven snorted.

"What?" Carson asked.

"My mother hasn't driven a car since I was six. She's probably so drunk right now that if she heard a phone ringing, she would smash it because it sounded annoying."

"Oh."

Too much. I said too much. Way to go, Raven. Just open your mouth and tell him the rest of your life story, why don't you?

"Do you have to..." Carson's voice trailed off. "Is she drunk all the time?"

There was something so sincere about his voice, about his explained actions. She couldn't stop herself from answering, no matter how much her mind screamed for her to keep her mouth shut.

"Every day of the week that ends in 'day'," Raven answered, trying to ignore the helplessness of her tone.

She wasn't weak. She was Goldilocks. She was a badass-but maybe not as much as she thought.

Carson must have sensed her sudden self-reflection because he quickly continued with his story. "So, I checked your temple. It didn't swell too much, honestly. There was no bleeding, but there will be a bruise. I decided to wait until you woke up, then I would take you wherever you wanted to go-the hospital, your house, maybe a cheeseburger from McDonald's since you were so hungry that you ate all of my pudding snacks."

Raven was confused. She was trespassing on his property and he wanted to help her? Maybe it was all a trick.

"But why would you wait for my decision? I came into your house for three reasons." She numbered them off on her fingers. "To steal your food, your mom's jewelry, and your dad's collectibles."

"Mom doesn't really wear jewelry," he shot back, a smug smile on his face. "Dad isn't a collector."

"Well-well-I would have stolen something."

Carson shrugged his shoulders. "Seems fate had other plans for you."

Raven's eyes narrowed to slits. "Fate? When has fate ever been kind to me? My dad left when I was six. My mom filled the hole in her heart with liquor. Lots of liquor. No one has taken care of me in ten years. I've had to make my own fate."

"And how is that, by the way? Do you ever feel guilty about the path you chose?"

"Guilty for what?" The headache she had was slowly fading-thank God for modern medicine-but the fire in her heart was growing. "The people I steal from buy expensive things just because they can. They don't need them. I do. I'm the one that has to pay our bills-not my mom. I'm the one that makes sure we're eating. What do I care if some fat, rich woman can't look at the antique vase that just sits on her shelf?"

"Did you ever think of trying to get out? Reporting your mom?" Carson leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. Why did he care so much?

"She's my mom. She isn't cruel. She isn't a bad person. She's just... sick. If she lost me, it would only spiral even more out of control." Her eyes stung. She quickly blinked away her tears before they betrayed her.

"But getting her help would have been better than this, right?" His eyes were cautious, as if he was afraid he was asking the wrong question. "I'm just trying to understand."

"You can't understand. Look at you." She motioned to him with her hand as she glanced over him-clean hair, clean clothes, and all. "Look at your house. I can tell you how I live, but you will never understand until you walk a day in my shoes."

"I want to understand."

She sprang up, oriented herself as the room tilted, and balled the sheets in her fists. "Will you just stop with the twenty questions? There's nothing else you need to know because my home life is none of your concern. So keep your perfect nose in your own perfect business and stay out of mine!"

"Raven," he whispered, leaning farther forward in his chair. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" she asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. It was time to go. Enough mind games from him. "Why do you care so much anyway? Why-wait...how do you know my name?"

Carson's cheeks flushed as he glanced away from her, the muscle in his jaw working. The moonlight from the window cast his face aglow, illuminating the beauty of him. Sometimes people find it strange to refer to boys or men as beautiful, but beauty is beauty.

His long lashes kissed his cheeks as he blinked. His bridge of his nose was not smooth, instead rather bumped, as if he had broken it before, but it fit, giving his face more depth. In another life, she would have admired his beauty, would have shied away from him when he looked her with his rich chocolate eyes that she knew would melt her on the spot.

But she didn't have time in her life to melt over a boy. All she had were herself and her mother, and it took all the time she had.

"I recognized you when your wig fell off," Carson finally said. "I feel like I should have recognized you when you turned around earlier, but I was so caught up in the fact that the infamous Goldilocks was in my house." He shook his head then fixed his gaze on her. "But the second I saw your real hair, I knew."

Raven's grip on the sheets loosened, but she didn't speak.

"We go to the same school, you know. Your locker is across the hall from mine."

Raven scrambled through her mind, trying to pick out his face among the sea of students at their school, but too many sneers and avoided gazes filled her memory. She was the girl who didn't wear new clothes, the one with a mother who drank more whiskey than she did water-to be friends with her would be social suicide in their eyes.

"I see the way they look at you."

"So do I," she replied, folding her hands in her lap. "I see it everyday."

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice lowering. "I see it happen. And what do I do? Nothing."

"Nobody does anything. But I really don't care."

"They should. I should."

"Are you going to be my knight in shining armor?"

"If you'll let me."

Raven swore he was reading lines from the newest teen romance novel. One of them dying after they confessed their love to each other would leave fans drowning in puddles of their own tears.

But this was not fiction, this was reality, and her heart was beating a mile a minute.

They were both quiet. The only sound that filled the room was their breathing-his steady, hers uneven. What do you say after that? No, I won't let you? Yes, thank you? She didn't know what she wanted.

"You know what's funny about ravens?" Carson said, changing topics with a smile playing on his lips.

"What, like, the actual birds?" she asked, curious where he was going with it.

"Yeah. They like to steal shiny things. Sounds like another Raven I know." He gave her a wink.

"Ha. Ha. Real funny," she mused, letting her lips curl into a smile. And it felt good.

"You should smile more," Carson said, gazing at her from under his lashes. "You could light up a room with that smile of yours."

She couldn't take her eyes off of his smile, his lips, and from the burning she felt across her own she knew that he couldn't either. They were so distracted with each other, they didn't notice the bright light that flooded through the window. They didn't hear the closing of the front door. And they definitely didn't hear two pairs of feet making their way up the stairs.

The door to the room flung open and the ceiling light was flicked on, almost blinding Raven. Carson sprung up from the chair, and faced the man and woman standing in the doorway.

"Mom," he said, breathless. "Dad. You're home."

His mother crossed her arms over her chest as she looked down her nose at Raven. Mrs. Behr was judging her, she could feel it in the way her eyes looked her up and down, taking in her black clothes, her black hair. Raven could practically see the wheels turning in the woman's head, labeling her as trouble, as a punk rock girl who was going to turn her son into a rebel just like her.

"There's a girl in your bed," Mrs. Behr said, tearing her eyes away from Raven and focusing them on Carson. "Why?"

"This-this," he stumbled over his words, his ears turning red under his parent's scrutinizing gaze. They were judging him too. Their own son.

"I'm Raven," she said, rising from the bed. The room swayed, but she became steady on her feet as she stepped towards the Behrs with her hand reached out. "I was jogging and pushed myself a little too hard. Collapsed on the sidewalk in front of your house."

Mr. Behr cocked his head at her, his eyes narrowing as he listened to her story. His wife remained stone-faced, her thick perfume burning Raven's nose now that she stood closer.

"Your son brought me inside, got me some water, offered to drive me to the hospital if I needed."

"That doesn't explain why you are in my son's bed," Mrs. Behr reprimanded. Her eyebrows were lifted as she watched Raven, searching for signs of a slip up in her lies.

"I apologize, ma'am." Raven bowed her head slightly. "He was only trying to make me as comfortable as possible. He is a true gentleman. I can't thank him enough for what he's done for me."

Her eyes slid to Carson who was gazing at her with bright eyes, the corner of his mouth tilted up in a grateful smile. Raven couldn't believe it, but she smiled right back at him.

When she looked back at Carson's parents, his dad was standing straighter, and his mother had uncrossed her arms from her chest.

"Well, Carson," his father said, his chin lifted high. "I knew I raised my son to be a good man."

"Oh, sweetie," his mother crooned. "I should have known." Then she was stepping forward, resting her hand delicately on Raven's shoulder. "Come dear, you look pale. Let's get you something to eat."

Raven stepped forward with Mrs. Behr, her comforting touch not nearly as uncomfortable as thought it would be. It was as if tonight shattered the wall she kept firm, guarding herself from anything else that might hurt her. She breathed a sigh of relief for the first time in a long time, marveling at the events that had led her here. In a night where everything had gone wrong, everything had somehow ended up incredibly right.

"Carson," Mr. Behr's voice rang from behind her as they all made their way downstairs. "If you're going to stay home alone on our fundraiser nights, you're going to have to start keeping all of the doors locked. I heard from some colleagues of mine that there's a thief on the loose in the city. She goes by the name of some fairy-tale character. The one that breaks baby bear's chair?"

"Goldilocks, you mean?" Carson proposed. Raven heard the humor in his voice.

"Let's just hope they catch her. The city doesn't need another troublemaker like the Pied Piper, that's for sure."

****

(GOLDILOCKS was a top 25 entry for target Once Upon Now contest.)