I turned in bed. Zack was sleeping right beside me. His back turned to me, covered by his grey hoodie. I sat up straight. The rain was pouring upon the street and windows, creating a lot of noise. I rubbed my eyes and slid out of bed. I pulled on a pair of slippers, to avoid getting my warm feet on the cold ground. I went into the bathroom at the end of the hall. It was clean, mostly the only clean thing in the whole damn house.

I washed my face with the cold water, hoping it would wake me up a bit. I walked back to the room with a towel, held up to my wet face. Zack was still sleeping. I sat on the side of the bed, looking into my phone. I had a missed call from mom, surprisingly. I send her a text message asking what was wrong and why didn't she come home last night. Kylie didn't contact in anyway.

It kinda of made me feel low, but, Zack was getting my mind off it by being here. I placed my phone into my pocket and walked downstairs, to get some coffee. I placed the coffee we got last night into the coffee kettle along with some water. I stood by the mug, waiting for the coffee to get warm. The rain seemed to be fighting its way into the house. I look out at the street from the kitchen's window.

The night in which Zack first kissed me traveled back to my mind, making me smile. I pour the boiling coffee into the mug. I continued to watch the rain, as I held my coffee, which sent warmth into my hands.

I wondered what was the attacker doing. I wondered why he has been so quite. It kinda scared me and made me relieved at the same time. I just wished he wasn't planning something so evil, that Kylie or Zack might get hurt. My attacker's wish was to kill both Kylie and Zack, right with me watching. I didn't understand what I did to deserve all this hate from this mysterious guy.

I wasn't even a social person. I didn't know many people. I was shy and an introvert. I was never mean to anyone. I was never interested in drama or gossips. I just minded my own business and focused on my studies. Why would anyone want to kill the two persons I care about the most and make me watch? That question was hanging in my head as Zack entered the kitchen, groaning.

"Good morning." He said with a raspy morning voice. It was the first time I have heard his morning voice. His black hair was messy and his eyelids seemed to linger upon his eyes. "Good morning." I smiled, sipping my coffee. "What are you drinking?" He asked, standing beside me. "Coffee." I shrugged. "Can I get one of these?" He rubbed his eyes. I nodded as I turned to pour him a mug.

"Slept well?" I asked, handing him the mug. "Not with all that rain begging to come in." He sighted. I patted his shoulder. "Guess that means, we're stuck inside, right?" He asked. "What's wrong with that?" I frowned. "Nothing, I just thought we might recreate that night." He smiled. I smiled knowing exactly which night he's talking about.

"I like not having a cold, thank you. Last time gave both of us a sore throat and a runny nose." I said, sounding like a mother. "But, it was fun. Admit you enjoyed it?" He raised both his eyebrows asking. "Still, it had consequences." I said. "You can't get a rainbow with a little rain." He shrugged. "You really want to do this? It's heavier than last time." I stated. He looked out the rain.

"Let's watch a movie, then." He looked back at me, realizing I was right. I watched him go upstairs. I grabbed the bag of chips we got last night and followed him.

                                  ~~~~~~

It was still raining as I was sitting in front of my laptop, a blank page of my writing assignment waiting to be filled with at least one word. "Is that school work?" Zack jumped into the bed, beside me. "Yeah." I huffed. "What is it?" He asked. "It's a short story about our ambition." I leaned to rest my back on the pillows behind me. "You're a writer, right?" He asked.

"I write poetry, mostly." I shrugged. "You can't write that short story, then?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. "It's not like that, I can't find the right words. I like words that rythme better." I pressed the palms of my hand onto my face. "You told me that your ambition was to become a great poet, right?" He said. I looked at him, he was sitting straight. "Yeah." I mumbled.

"Then, write about how you feel when you're write poetry, how you think poetry, your poetry can change the world, you know? Write what made you fall in love with poetry in the first place." He explained. His words made sense. "You're a genuine sometimes, you know that?" I teased him. He smiled. I took a deep breath and cracked my fingers to start. He came closer to me. "You should take your time, it's no rush, sophomore year still has a whole other semester." He held my hand.

"You're right, I am in no rush." A grin found its way to my lips, as he planted a kiss onto the back of my hand. I turned my gaze back to the laptop, leaving his hand, and letting my writer's side take control.

It stopped raining at midnight. Zack was sleeping beside me. His mouth slightly open. I chuckled softly as I sat in bed watching him sleep. The door downstairs closed, grabbing my attention. I slid out of bed to check it out. A part of me thought that someone broke in. That my attacker broke in. I also wondered how he figured where I lived.

My breath was tight as I slowly went down the stairs. The living room lights were on. Distant chatter kept on making me more nervous. I reached the living room. Both my parents in winter coats and umbrellas stood there. My breath got easier. "What's the matter, Jane? You look like you've seen a ghost." Mom joked as she got out of her coat. "You guys are back." I said, not in my most excited voice.

"Yeah, surprisingly, we live here." Dad chuckled. I rolled my eyes. "Why are you still awake, dear?" She wondered. "I was asleep but then I heard the door." I lied. "Well, we're gonna head to bed, I am so tired." Mom patted my shoulder on her way upstairs. Dad followed her. I stood there. They didn't even say welcome back.