When whispers about neighbors calling the police rippled through the party, Lacey grabbed Ruby and got outside. Graham already had his eyes on her because of the time he found her holding a glass of cheap whiskey at the Rabbit Hole. She'd told him she was holding it for a friend and he didn't pursue it further, but she knew he'd heard rumors about her. Everyone heard rumors about her.

She and Ruby ran across the street to hide in the bushes of the neighbors' house. Every house on this road had fancy shrubbery and flowers. Lacey would know- her father came out here all the time for deliveries. The full moon lit the inky night sky and Ruby sat cross-legged in the dirt, a slight smile on her face as she looked up at the moon.

Belle joined her, immediately feeling the wet dirt in places she wished it wasn't. Both she and Ruby had left the party in their black bikinis. It was early enough in the fall for them to do this. Both of them went through Maine winters in leather jackets, so they were accustomed to the chill. Lacey rubbed her fingers around each other, wishing she had a cigarette or something to busy herself with. They watched as a police car rolled up and none other than Graham Humbert shot right out of the car. With his thick accent and beard, he would be cute if he wasn't a narc.

She felt the heavy pressure of a jacket minutes later, and she spun around to see James Nolan and Eric Prince standing behind her.

"Wanna steal that car?" James asked, taking a swig from his red Solo cup.

Lacey cast a glance over at Graham's squad car, still running though he'd disappeared in through the front door of the house. They only had a few minutes until he'd stumble out of the house, so Lacey pushed herself to her feet in record time. She shoved her arms through the arms of his denim jacket. "Sure."

Ruby followed, accepting Eric's jacket from him. They shuffled across the narrow road, slipping in the musty car. James and Eric sat in the front while Ruby and Lacey lounged in the back. Since Graham left the key in the ignition, all James had to do was turn the key and pull away from the curb with a squeak.

James got them out of that stuffy neighborhood and drove towards the ocean. "Turn on some music," Ruby said.

Eric scrambled with the controls around the radio, at one point accidentally turning on the scanner. But then he got it to the radio and they sat back and listened to a classic rock station. They chatted about who showed up to the party tonight and who shouldn't have showed up and who definitely got some tonight and, well, the kind of stuff Storybrooke folks used up their breath on.

"Lacey," James said as they neared the beach, "how long do you think we have until they come for us?"

He was always looking for an excuse to talk to her. Lacey remembered being in fourth grade and all the girls giggled about fifth grader David Nolan. But his bad-at-math candy bar stealing brother James caught Lacey's eye. When the bell rang after school one day, Lacey lugged her lunchbox and backpack across the playground to where the Nolan twins hung out on the swings. She tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he would like to kiss her and he said yes so she lurched forward to plant a candy-coated kiss on his lips. For both of them it was their first kiss.

But they always found each other somehow. They were put in the same gym class or sitting at the same cafeteria table or, like tonight, attending the same party. Save for a few fumbles, they never became romantically involved.

"I'd say about five-" Lacey stopped short when she heard a siren. "Fuck. We need to abandon ship."

James swerved the car to the side and they stumbled out towards the woods. They laughed their partially drunk asses off listening to Graham get yelled at by one of his colleagues. Finally they made it out of the woods and to the beach. Ruby shucked Eric's jacket off and ran into the water, howling like a wolf. Eric followed in after her, but Lacey and James chose to hunker on down in the sand.

"Ruby and Eric aren't…?" James asked.

"Eric's your best friend," Lacey said, "shouldn't you know?"

James shrugged. "We don't talk about that stuff."

"They're not. I think Eric wants to get with Ariel." Lacey said it with nonchalance, as if she hadn't spent the majority of freshman year dating Eric. Neither of them were that into it. Within weeks they had their eyes on other people, but they dragged it on for months. A waste of time, that relationship.

"How about you?" James asked.

Lacey laid down on the sand. "Do I want to get with Ariel?"

James laid down next to her. It might have been her imagination but he scooted a little closer to her as he did so. She could feel his arm against hers. She kept her eyes trained on the stars above her. "What's your love life looking like now?"

"Oh I'm madly in love with my boyfriend and I spend all my free time daydreaming about our children running into our fancy master bedroom to wake us up at six in the morning on Christmas Day."

James chuckled. "That's gonna be my brother I think. Mary Margaret already has her eyes on a loft apartment for them to move into after we graduate this June."

Well, good for them then. Lacey's dad could barely afford the tiny apartment the two of them lived in. It was a two bedroom apartment above the flower business. The kitchen faucet had leaked since they moved in from Australia and horseflies lined the walls every summer. The thought of living in that apartment in two years when she graduated almost made Lacey want to date someone rich like James for a long enough time to justify living together.

"I don't exactly see that in my future," she said.

"What if," James shifted, "what if we did that."

"Moved in together this summer? I'll be a senior."

"Not this summer," he amended, "but maybe down the line. Like, really down the line, you know? Like if we're forty and single…"

Forty and single. Lacey wasn't much for romantic relationships so that thought didn't daunt her. But forty and single and still hanging around Storybrooke just a twenty minute walk away from anything, including the Nolan's Colonial house that James would probably still live in. That was a scary thought.

"Yeah, maybe." She shrugged. Maybe if this town was right about her she'd be dead by alcohol poisoning by then anyway. It was almost poetic. Getting married over twenty years after the original shitty proposal to her first kiss was just the kind of shitty thing her shitty father expected her to do anyway. Lacey knew there was no chance of love in her future. Nobody could truly love a girl like her. By forty she'll have made her way through Storybrooke's list of bachelors and she'll have no choice but to choose one and settle.

After Ruby and Eric returned to the sand, shaking from the cold, James offered to walk Lacey back to her place. They walked in silence. At the door to Game of Thorns, James slipped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to hers. She let him back her up against the wall and slip his hand up her black bikini top. When they parted she slipped off his jacket to return to him, but he told her to keep it.

She insisted that he have it. Why would she want his jacket? He's not her boyfriend or anything.

By the good grace of God, she wasn't late to school the next morning. Okay, she skipped first period gym but that didn't really count. In English she always sat in the back. None of the AP kids wanted anything to do with the school whore, so she knew to keep to herself.

Her teacher, Mr. Jones, had an Irish accent and wore leather and earrings. This excited her on the first day of school, but by the second week she realized he was just another Storybrooke loser who embodied the saying that those who can't, teach.

While they were reading Scarlet Letter he'd made an offhand comment about Hester Prynne's sluttiness, and while people made comments like that all the time about Lacey, she wanted to defend Hester. But Lacey wasn't brave and these stuffy students would probably jump at the chance to tell Lacey she only felt that way because of who she was. So Lacey kept her true opinions to her essays.

She feared that Mr. Jones would mark her down for her opinions, but after receiving an A+ on her first paper he called her to his desk after class to tell her that he admired a girl who had strong beliefs. He said it with a quick flick of his eyes down her neckline, though, so Lacey didn't feel much in the way of flattery. But she kept turning in essays on her controversial opinions and he kept giving her great grades. The teacher and the students weren't the best, but if Lacey got drunk enough she would confess to English being her favorite class.

So that morning when Mr. Jones slid the essay she'd worked on all week onto her desk, she felt a little giddy before flipping it over to see her grade. Since middle school she couldn't remember putting so much effort into a homework assignment. But when she flipped it over, she saw a big fat F on the top of the page.

Lacey bit her lip, slouching further in her seat. Mr. Jones started blabbering about the papers and all Lacey could think about was how goddamn stupid she was. She gets a few good grades and she thinks she has a chance at being on the Honor Roll or something. Who was she kidding? She spent the last night partying. That was who she was. Lacey French. A teenage drunk with too many short skirts and not enough commitment to relationships. Everybody here knew that and it was time she realized that, too.

She grabbed her backpack, slipping out of the room with a hall pass. The West stairwell. It always smelled like pot and one time she found a used condom there, but it was the perfect place to go to cut class. She tore open the door, dropping her backpack on the ground and leaning her head on the wall.

"Well if it isn't Racy Lacey."

Lacey's head snapped up at the unfamiliar Scottish accent. It could only belong to one person. Gold moved to town at about the same time as her father and she did, but he was a grade above her and not much of a party person, so they didn't cross paths. But they knew each other through their reputations. Gold was maybe the only student in Storybrooke High who drank more liquor than her. In fact, he was currently leaning against the railing drinking from a small flask. The sleeves of his leather jacket were a bit beat up at the wrists, and he wore his hair longer than the other guys. It was a nice look.

Nobody knew his first name. They didn't even print it in the yearbook. It made him kind of a legend.

But Lacey interned in the school library freshman year. He'd taken out an old copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales and when Lacey scanned his library card, she saw his name pop up.

"Hello, Rum."

He nearly dropped his flask. "Who told you my name?"

"The Brothers Grimm."

It took him a moment to remember- that was almost three years ago, but when he did he just smirked and offered her his flask.

Lacey accepted it, taking a quick swig before handing it back to him.

"Are you the person who stole that police car last night?" he asked.

Lacey faked a curtsy. "The one and only."

"Gutsy."

Lacey shrugged. "I think I was a little drunk."

"Still," he said, "I'd be too scared to do something like that."

Well, Lacey thought, she was scared all the damn time. Scared of staying in Storybrooke, scared of leaving Storybrooke, scared of commitment, scared of being alone. Rum Gold had no idea just how fucking scared she was all the time.

"You come here often?" she asked, because she'd skipped classes often and this was the first time she'd seen Rum Gold up close. All she knew about him came from his reputation. Nobody ever talked about his golden brown eyes or the way he sort of swayed when he talked in a nervous kind of way (or maybe that was the liquor).

He shrugged. "I try not to. If I skip class I usually wanna get the hell out of this building, but I stayed in the hopes that my motivation to go to class would resurrect itself somehow."

"I know the feeling," Lacey replied.

Gold took a drink from his flask. "Sure you do. Aren't you the only person who doesn't live in the historic district taking higher level classes?"

The historic district. That's where all the rich kids lived. That's where James lived. "Just English," Lacey said, "and that's what I'm skipping now."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

The bell rang and they heard the halls of Storybrooke High fill with the chatters and footsteps of students. Any minute now the stairwell would be packed. It was time for lunch, now, so Lacey opened the door to the hallway, turning back to say a quick "bye" to Gold.

"See ya," he responded, though Lacey highly doubted they would cross paths again. Kind of a shame, since Lacey liked his liquor.