Yeah it's been a while. I'm sure all my readers have vanished by now but oh well I'm gonna do this anyway. Enjoy!

I woke up the next morning with the worst hangover of my life.

I groaned as I grabbed a pillow and put it over my face, to stop the bright annoying rays of sunlight from coming through. Ugh, its only going to get hotter and sunnier as summer approaches.

I had barely put my right foot down on the floor before my head started to ring. I grabbed it tenderly, cursing as I made my way over to the bathroom. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach as the contents of yesterdays drinks came out, as I threw up until I couldn't anymore.

I sighed, resting my forehead against the porcelain sink, which gave my headache a temporary reprieve. I had to force myself off the cool tiles and get into the shower, letting the hot water cascade down my shoulders, washing away last night's horrors.

What the actual hell even happened last night?

I wracked my brain as I tried to recall its events. The more I remembered, the more horrified I got. Good lord, what had I done?

I'd basically gone to second base with Shawn Hunter last night, in an entirely drunken state. Then I yelled at him for it and ran away. God, I was such a mess.

I got out of the shower, groggily drying myself and slipping on grey sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It was horrible as I trudged down the stairs, the cold daunting lull of school calling out my name. I gulped down a pill to help with my headache, as well as a huge cup of coffee. I grabbed my backpack from the chair and took out a granola bar from the cabinet, walking out the door to go to school. No one was around the house anyway. My mom's car wasn't in the driveway either, so I guess I was taking the subway. Riding the crowded, noisy subway with this hangover was going to be the death of me.

After a hellish twenty minutes, I dragged myself into the school hallways just in time. I managed to make it to my first class right before Mr. Jones walked in.

"Good morning, everyone. Today we're going to be starting a new lesson. Oh, also I wanted to remind you all that your group projects are due in four weeks, right after your finals. Don't be late! Now..."

Damn. My project with Shawn was due soon. Thank god we were finished with it. Although now that I think about it, my part seemed pretty dry and lame. I was going to have to clean it up a bit.

Once class was over, I tried to look around for him so I could apologize, but I didn't spot him anywhere. I did run into Veronica though. I asked her if she knew where he was but she informed me that she hadn't seen him since the party either. I was feeling a little better physically now, despite it all.

He hadn't sat with us during lunch either, so I was starting to get a little worried. I hadn't scared him off, had I?

Once the day was over, I checked in with Andrew and he told me Shawn hadn't showed up to school at all today. Cursing my stupidity, I went over to his house to see what was up. However, just as I reached the front gate, I halted in my tracks.

There was another car in the driveway.

Shawn's dad's car.

Shit.

I quickly skirted aside as I saw his dad walk out of the house, while a driver brought the car around for him to get in. He got into the back and drove off, the yard now empty once again.

I literally jogged up to the house, ringing the doorbell. No answer. I tried again, still no answer. I pulled down on the handle to find that it was unlocked. I slowly stepped inside. "Shawn?" I called.

I was met with nothing but stony silence, as I paced up the stairs. I made my way down the hallway towards his room, which I hadn't really been in that much. As I approached, I started to hear something. Something that sounded like stifled sobbing.

"Shawn?" I called again. The noise suddenly stopped, followed by some shuffling around. I went in.

His entire room was a solid mess. There were loose papers scattered all over the floor, and it looked like somebody had tried to rip apart his entire closet. His bed was unmade and there was a shattered lamp, lying in pieces all over the carpet. Worst of all, was Shawn himself.

It looked like his dad had taken his anger out on him again. There was an ugly bruise forming around his left eye, and it looked like he had cut himself on the glass from the lightbulb, his hands a bloodied mess. He was on the floor on his knees, clutching his gut with his head down.

I immediately ran over to him, crouching down to sit next to him. "Shawn? What the fuck happened?"

He looked up, revealing his tear-soaked face, which he now hastily wiped off. "It's nothing." He muttered weakly, standing up only to wince in pain and hold his side.

"Take your damn shirt off."

"Alex, its not as bad as it looks-"

"I said take your fucking shirt off!"

He obliged, not meeting my eyes as he pulled his shirt off. It wasn't as bad as I expected, but still bad enough. There was a small bruise forming, but it was already turning shades of blue and purple. I pulled him up to sit on the bed, running down to the kitchen to get some ice and antiseptic. I quickly dressed his wounds the best I could. Luckily, it was somewhat treatable, and maybe after two weeks of rest his bruises would recover. I knew he should go to a hospital and get it checked out, but I also knew he wouldn't listen to me.

I bandaged the cuts on his hands and sat down on the bed next to him after handing him a glass of water, waiting for him to speak.

"Alex... why are you here?"

"Shawn... you may not believe it but, you're not alone. Just do what you have to do to get the heck out of here because I can't stand watching your dad do this to you anymore."

"But...why are you here?"

"That doesn't matter now."

"Alex, this cannot get any worse. Just tell me. Why did you show up to my house?"

I sighed. Hesitantly, I decided to tell him. "I wanted to apologize."

He expression changed as the realization struck him. Like the events of yesterday came flooding back to him at this minute, and at the moment, I can't blame him for forgetting about it either. "Last night."

"Yeah."

"You don't have to apologize. Or explain."

I nodded, sitting with my hands folded in my lap, my head down. I wasn't really sure what to say. I mean, what do you say after something like this?

After a minute or so, I felt his hand wrap around mine, firm and strong despite his weakened state. I stared at him. I spoke. "Can you find somewhere else to sleep tonight please? I'd offer my place but..."

"It's okay." He replied, smiling weakly. He was probably remembering the last time he wanted to stay over at my place. That didn't end well. He continued. "I'll ask Andrew if I can stay at his place tonight. Or Ronnie."

"All right. At least let me drop you off."

He squeezed my hand.

*************************************

Let's just say, I didn't get any sleep again.

My insomnia was just getting worse, and no matter how many random meditation bullshit things I tried, nothing seemed to work.

I had too much on my damn mind. Shawn's situation, the coming final match, my parents divorce and everything else. It was too much. Not to mention, that my dad had shown up a two hours ago to start boxing up his things. He was staying at my uncle's place again on a temporary basis and he said we could visit any time we wanted. It still didn't reassure me. Not to mention, it was raining like crazy outside which just added more to the depressed mood.

I officially come from a broken family. A broken home. And there was nothing I could do about it.

It was nearly two am when I decided to text him.

Hey. U all settled?

He replied almost instantly. Yeah thanks. Ronnie gave me one of the guest bedrooms. How come ur not asleep?

Can't seem to

I'm coming over

What? NOW?

SHAWN?!

He went offline after that, so I assumed he was on his way. Jesus what if my mom or brother saw him? I was dead.

I nearly went downstairs expecting to find him at the door, but instead I heard a soft tapping on my window. I turned around and looked in disbelief at Shawn perched on the window ledge, soaking wet with his hair plastered to his forehead.

I rolled my eyes, opening the window to let him in. "Do you love doing this a lot? You can't just crawl up the side of my house you know."

He smiled. "I know. I didn't want to wake your family."

A flash of pain stung in my chest at the mention of my family, but I brushed it aside and grinned at him. "How are you doing?"

"Better thanks. I managed to climb up to your window, didn't I?"

I felt relieved. "I'm glad you're okay Hunter."

Something passed over his face as he stepped closer to me, his expression more solemn. He leaned in and kissed me, softly and gently, like I was made of glass and could break any second. I was taken aback, wondering what suddenly came over him. It's not like we were officially boyfriend and girlfriend to be doing this sort of thing. Especially after what I did at that party.

I kissed him back, his hand around my neck to pull me closer, and my arms wrapped around his shoulders. I finally pulled away from him and he pouted. "Why do you love to tease me?"

"I don't."

"Clearly."

I smirked at him. "You're dripping on my floor."

He looked down sheepishly as he realized. "Sorry." I walked over to my closet and took out the same clothes I was going to give him the other night, when he almost stayed over at my place. Only this time, I gave him his hoodie back as well.

"Why are you giving me this? I gave it to you to keep." He frowned, looking at his hoodie in his hands. "I couldn't do that." I replied.

"I want you to have it." He walked over to me, pulling the hoodie over my head and over my torso. I stared down at the words- 'Hell was boring', written on it.

"It suits you."

I could have sworn I almost started blushing like a little girl at that moment. Luckily, he turned around to go to the bathroom and change. He walked back out, still putting his t-shirt over his chest, giving me a chance to ogle his defined abs. Unfortunately, he caught me staring and started to grin like a mad man.

"Really Peirce? I'm not a piece of meat you know."

"Kill yourself." I told him, taking one of my toss pillows and stuffing it over his face. We ended up having a sort of pillow fight for about five minutes, until we both collapsed on the bed, laughing until we ran out of breath.

We just lay next to each other for a while, staring at the ceiling with none of us saying a word. It was nice, and comfortable. There wasn't anything awkward about the whole thing for some reason. Two months ago, I probably would have freaked out and ran away with the thought of Shawn Hunter ever being in my bed. But now, it didn't seem so bad. It almost seemed like it was always meant to be this way.

It was nice.