"Dally, would you mind if I asked you a semi-personal question?" asked my best friend, Kaydence.

"Yes, I would, but has that ever stopped you before?" I glanced up at Kaydence and grinned, then went back to reading my history assignment.

"Good point. Okay, so, did something happen between you and my brother while I was away this weekend?" At the mention of her brother, my face became hot, feeling as if it were being engulfed by flames.

"What brought on a question like that? That's so random, Kay," I said, without looking up from my textbook. I knew that, if I looked at her, my face would give me away completely.

"Is it random? Because you both have been acting completely weird towards each other, and when I asked Nate what all went on at home during the weekend, he mumbled a bunch of stuff, including your name, and he kinda looked embarrassed about something, which is completely unlike Nate. And he kinda turned the color that you are now."

"Damn!" I thought to myself. "Why did she have to be so observant?"

"Oh. Um, well, I have no clue why my name would have come up. I mean, I stopped by, but I had forgotten that you weren't home. Nothing happened." It was a lie, of course. All of it. I had known that she was away, and something most definitely did happen. But it wasn't something I was too keen on sharing with Kay, even if she was my best friend. It wasn't like we did anything big, or life changing. Well, I mean, it was kind of big for me, but I'm pretty sure that between the both of us, me and Nate, I mean, I was the only one who felt that way. But what was this about Nate being embarrassed? And turning red? This was news to me, because he certainly didn't look embarrassed or red when I was over there. And why should he? Nothing really happened. He was probably embarrassed because he realized how stupid he'd been.

And you're probably very curious as to what exactly happened between me and Nate.

So, I'll tell you. But don't get your hopes up. It's nothing big, remember?

It was Saturday night and I was arguing with my mother's new boyfriend, Leroy, as usual. He called me a brat and told me that I had no right to mouth off to him.

"Actually, Leroy, I have every right. I don't like you, respect you, nor do I have to listen to a word you say, because you're not my father."

"Not yet, I'm not. I'm askin' your mother to marry me, see. Then we'll see if that tone of yours changes."

"Hmm, yeah, but just because you marry my mom does not mean that you have any, any, authority over me. And I'm just hoping to God that my mom has enough sense to say no."

And that's when his hand shot out and connected with the side of my face. My hand immediately covered my burning cheek and I stood there, stunned, staring at him.

"Let that be a lesson to ya'," he snarled, a wild look in his eyes. He then pointed a finger at me and leaned in towards me, his face mere inches away from mine. "You don't wanna mess with me, child." His breath reeked of alcohol, as it always did, but up close the smell was even more putrid.

"You are such an-"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you," he growled, but I wasn't afraid of him. Not yet, anyway.

"What my mom sees in you, I'll never know. But she's been known to pick complete losers before, so you're no exception to the rule. You're just like the others."

What happened next will probably stay in my memory for all eternity.

Leroy shoved me down onto the floor, enraged by my bold words, and began to lash out at me with his feet, which were clad in steel-toed boots. And let me tell you, when steel-toed boots are connecting with any part of your body in the form of blows, it does not feel too wonderful. He only managed to kick me a few times in the arm and once in the ribcage when he noticed my mom's car lights outside the window. He cursed colorfully and looked down at me.

"Hurry up and get offa' the floor!" I looked up at Leroy, my vision blurred with tears, and I shook my head.

"I hate you. I hate you! Why don't you just leave? You don't love her anyway!" Leroy opened his mouth, probably about to yell at me some more, but I didn't stay to hear what he had to say. I hurried to my feet, ignoring the pain in my side, and I pushed past him, and my mother as well, just as she was coming through the front door. I caught the screen door before it closed and hurried outside, not stopping even as my mother called my name over and over again. I didn't want to leave her alone with Leroy, but I couldn't stay there. No way. There was no telling what else he'd do to me.

When I was quite a distance away from the house, I slowed down and gently rubbed my ribs. I had no doubt that a bruise was already forming. My cheeks were damp as tears slid silently down them. I hated crying. It made me feel so vulnerable and out of control. And I absolutely hated feeling as though I had no power over my own emotions. When I got this upset over something, I usually went to Kay's house to talk it out with her and ground myself. But, this weekend, she was away at some leadership camp thing, so, therefore, I had no one to go to. Still, I found myself on her doorstep some ten minutes later and I rang the doorbell. It was late, yes, but Kay's parents would never deny me entry into their home. For some reason unknown to me, they thought highly of me.

I stood on the porch for a minute or two, waiting, but no one ever came. Which probably meant that Mr. and Mrs. Brinkley, being people highly admired by the community, were at some social gathering and would not return home until the wee hours of the morning. I heaved a deep sigh and turned, lowering myself onto the top step, and I rested my arms over my knees and set my chin atop my arms, staring blankly down at the walkway. The night had grown still and more humid than usual, which most likely meant that it would start raining soon. No matter how bad it got, though, I was going to stay there until someone came home, if someone came home at all. I wasn't about to walk back to my house. Not with Leroy still there in a drunken state. But then, Leroy was always in a drunken state.

As I sat there chewing thoughtfully on my lower lip, I felt the first few drops of rain hit my hands. I looked up at the night sky just as the opaque, black rain clouds opened up, spilling their contents over God-only-knew how many miles. It was getting worse by the second, with the rain getting heavier and falling faster and harder, and in minutes I was soaked through to the bone and shivering. Even then, I did not wish to be home.

I don't know how long I'd been sitting there before I saw the first sign of civilization since I arrived on the Brinkley's doorstep: a pair of headlights glaring from the top of the street. I sat up straight, a hopeful look on my face, but I could not tell just yet if it was anyone who I might know. But when the car slowed down considerably before pulling into the driveway, I sighed with relief and got slowly to my feet, my clothes dripping wet and my hair plastered to my face. Finally. Salvation.

But it wasn't Mr. and Mrs. Brinkley, as I'd hoped it would be. No, it was Kay's older brother, Nate. From the very first moment I met Nate, we never really hit it off, in my opinion, but hey, if he was the first one home and if he would let me in, then who was I to complain?

When Nate stepped out of his car he squinted in my direction, trying to recognize my profile through the curtain of rain. At first, he regarded me skeptically. I'll admit, I didn't exactly look the way I usually did. In fact, I greatly resembled a drowned rat. But, when he realized it was me, he came closer, stuffing his hands into his letterman jacket. He stood there in front of me, as if the storm had no effect on him whatsoever.

"Dally? What are you doing here?" he said. "Kay is away at camp this weekend, remember?" I nodded, my teeth chattering a little.

"Yeah, I know she is. I just needed a place to go, so I came here. Only nobody was home when I got here."

"How long have you been sitting out here?" he asked me, his tone sounding incredulous.

"Not long," I assured him. My lower lip was trembling and, I had a feeling, quite blue.

"Oh. Well…" Nate dug the keys out of his jacket pocket and moved past me to open the door. "Is everything okay?" I stayed quiet for a moment and watched him as he searched for his house key. When I didn't answer he looked back at me. "Dally?" I looked at him.

"Hmm? Yeah. Everything is fine. I'm just kind of cold right now." I nodded slowly and glanced at him, and I'm not sure, but I think I noted a bit of concern in his eyes. I believe that my mind was playing tricks on me, though.

"Yeah, okay. Right." He turned his attention back to his keys, finally locating the right one, and he unlocked the door. He pushed the door open and then stepped aside so that I could go in first. I didn't look at him as I walked by, and when I stepped into the foyer I stepped out of my shoes and peeled the soaking wet socks off of my numb feet.

"Um, Nate? Would it be okay if I crashed here tonight?" I asked him as he closed and locked the front door again.

"Sure, I guess," he said with a shrug. "Kay's bed is free." He pulled his jacket off by the sleeves and hung it in the hall closet. Then he turned to look at me. "You need to get out of those clothes." He'd said it so suddenly, so abruptly, that I just blinked, staring at him. He noticed what he'd said and added hurriedly, "They're soaking wet. You might get sick or something."

"Oh! Oh, yeah. Of course. I'll just…" I pointed up the stairs and nodded, then turned to walk up to Kay's room when he stopped me.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there a sec. Is that--is that a handprint on your cheek?" His brow furrowed and he took a step towards me as if to get a closer look, but my hand instinctively flew to my cheek to guard it.

"No. I don't think so. Look, I'm gunna go change, okay? These clothes are really heavy and really cold." And with that, I high-tailed it up the stairs.

I took my dear sweet time getting changed because I didn't like being prodded by Nate, or anyone for that matter. Nate would prod me, too. He always bugged me about things that I didn't necessarily want to talk about. Like my cheek for instance. I knew that the moment I walked into the room he would be on me again about the whole cheek thing. I sighed and braced myself, then walked downstairs. And, as I expected, the minute I was in eyeshot he was questioning me.

"So, there's definitely a handprint on your cheek. I'm not stupid, Dally. I can see it."

"I never said you were stupid," I mumbled, pulling down the sleeves of one of Kay's sweatshirts that I had changed into.

"Stop skirting around the subject, please. What happened? Who hit you?" I stayed silent, looking everywhere around the room, but completely avoiding his penetrating gaze. "Dally?" He said my name in a soft, gentle voice, and I guess that's what sent me over the edge. What did it matter to him, anyhow?

"What does it matter? Huh? It's all said and done and it doesn't matter anymore, okay?" I saw Nate's brows knit together.

"Yes, it does matter. It matters a great deal, because whoever did this to you shouldn't get away with it. Why are you trying to protect them?" He had a point, but I didn't admit this out loud. Why wasn't I telling him what Leroy had done? Oh yeah, that's right. I remember now.

Because Leroy frightened me. He scared me to death.

"I'm not trying to protect them, Nate. God, why don't you just back off and let me handle this, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, because you did a real great job of handling it in the first place. No, Dally, I will not back off. You come here looking like this, and you are in my house, so it automatically becomes my problem whether you had intended to drag me into this or not. So, you can either tell me what the hell is going on, or you can go back home and deal with it yourself. Your choice." As he was saying this, my mouth dropped open in shock. He wouldn't really kick me out…would he?

"Nate! That's not--" I was stumbling over my words. "That's not fair!"

"I don't really care about fair right now. I care about what happened to you and who did it." He crossed his arms and continued to stare at me, and I could tell that he would not relent. And this frustrated me.

"Why do you care all of a sudden? You never cared about anything concerning be before! Why now? What? Is it pity? Do you feel sorry for me? Do you think that just because I don't have tender, loving parents who actually care about me that I need sympathy now? Because I don't. I'm used to it, and I'm fine." I said all of this harshly, lashing out at him because I was hurting, physically and emotionally. I was mortified when I felt another bout of tears pooling in my eyes and running down my cheeks. And the fact that I was crying would not help my argument that I really was okay.

I turned away from him as was about to walk out of the room when his hand caught my wrist to stop me. I didn't turn to face him, but kept my eyes on the floor instead. I felt him tug on my arm and pull me closer to him and I can't say that I resisted too much. He turned me around to face him just as I reached up with my free hand to wipe the tears from my cheeks. He pulled my hand away from my face, though, and began to wipe the tears away for me. This action left me somewhat stunned. I'd never seen this side of Nathaniel Brinkley before. I blinked a few times and stared up at him and he did not hesitate to meet my gaze.

"I think I understand now," he murmured, brushing his knuckles across my blotchy, tear-stained cheek.

"I don't think you do…" I whispered another tear escaping. He caught it with his thumb and brushed it away, then swept a few stray strands of hair out from in front of my eyes.

"Maybe not completely, but if you'll let me, maybe I could."

I shook my head.

"No, Nate. My family and your family are very different, in so many ways and on so many levels. Your family is like 7th Heaven or something, only minus the bazillion kids. Mine is more like Bender's family, from The Breakfast Club." I sniffed and wiped my nose on the sleeve of the sweatshirt. My comment about our families caused the corners of Nate's lips to twitch a little, and I thought I saw a hint of amusement in his eyes, but I couldn't tell for sure.

"That's quite an analogy."

"Yeah, well…it's the truth." I shrugged lightly, bringing a hand up to gingerly sooth the aching pain in my arm. Nate must have noticed my slightly pained expression, because he asked, "How bad is it?"

I shrugged again and said, "I dunno. I haven't really looked at it yet."

"Well, why don't you? Go in the bathroom or something and check it out."

"I'll check it out later."

"Why, when you can check it out now?"

"Nate, really. Can't it wait?"

"No, it can't," he said stubbornly

"It's probably just a bruise."

"I think you should make sure and see." I sighed and shook my head.

"You're never going to leave me alone about it, are you?"

"Of course not." I rolled my eyes at this.

"Fine," I muttered as I turned to shuffle back to the bathroom. "Whatever." When I got there, I didn't even bother to shut the door as I pulled the sweatshirt up over my head; I'd had a t-shirt on underneath, so going to the bathroom was kind of ridiculous. I pulled my shirt sleeve up and cringed at the sight. The bruise was an icky beige color with a black and blue rim that expanded over a good portion of my forearm. "Oh my God," I said aloud, and the next thing I knew, Nate was standing right beside me.

"Jesus Christ, Dally," he said when he saw the bruise, and he gently pulled my arm up a little, and he ran his fingers over the bruise. He added the least amount of pressure possible, and I watched him as he did this, completely lost for words. He was acting so different. He was being careful, and tender, and sweet, all things that I hadn't known he'd been capable of being. But what he did next was probably what changed my entire opinion of him right there on the spot: He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly over the discolored patch of skin on my arm, and he planted a little kiss there.

That's it. That's all he did, and I saw him in a completely different light.

I stared at him, wide-eyed, and when he raised his gaze my breath caught in my throat. His eyes, a dazzling shade of forest green, watched me intently and I felt as though I couldn't move. The way he was staring at me made me think, just for one second, that he was…

Well, that he was going to kiss me.

And not on the arm again. No, full on the lips. So I braced myself for it. I sort of tipped my head back, and my eyes were about to slide shut, when he spoke.

"I believe," he started in a light voice, "that you have had enough for one night, and that maybe you should get some sleep."

Okay, so it wasn't exactly what I'd been expecting and I blinked a few times before registering what he'd said. And then I took a quick step back.

"Oh. Yeah. You're right, uhm…I am a little tired, now that you mention it." I nodded, but stood there a second, I guess waiting for a response or something from him, and when all he did was nod back to me, I sighed. "'Night. Thanks for letting me stay, by the way."

"No problem." He gave me a small smile and watched me as I turned to head up the stairs to Kay's room. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time, but I didn't look back. I was, however, shocked that, when I'd reached the top of the stairs, he'd called up to me, "Sweet dreams," and then walked away. By the time I'd glanced over my shoulder he was gone. Needless to say, I'd gone to sleep that night with a million things running through my mind.

But I told Kay none of this. If I had told her, she might have freaked, saying that I had a crush on her brother.

Which I did, but she didn't need to know that.

But when she said, "Yeah, okay. Then why did I find your wet pants and shirt in my room? And find that my favorite pajama pants were missing?" The redness that had been tinting my face doubled in hue and I kept my eyes glued to my history book, pretending to be interested in, and pretending to understand, the content. But Kay saw right through this, because she took the history book out of my lap and snapped it shut.

"Hey! I was reading that!" I protested, and she snorted.

"Yeah, right. And pigs can fly," she said in a sardonic tone. "Dally, I'm serious. Did something happen? I just wanna know. It's not like I'll care or anything. I just wanna know so I can maybe start getting used to a few ideas and changes that might occur."

"Kay! It was nothing! I swear. Yeah, I did come over. I had a little argument with the family," I said, using air quotes, "and I needed a place to crash, a place where I felt safe. So, naturally, I went to your house. I hadn't forgotten that you weren't there. I was just hoping that your parents would be. But Nate came home after a while and well..." I sighed and looked over at her. "It's a long story that I don't really care to discuss here, at school."

"Okay. But you will tell me what happened, right?"

"If you really wanna know, then yeah. But I promise you, it's really nothing." She only shrugged at this.
"It's okay. I'm a naturally curious person and generally have to know just about everything that is going on. And if I didn't find out from you, I would have gone to Nate. Either way, I would have found out." She shot me and smile and I laughed a little, shaking my head. She returned my history book to me shortly after and I groaned. She chuckled and pulled a chair up next to mine, then began to go over the chapter questions we'd been assigned.

Even though nothing happened, really, between me and Nate, I had the strangest feeling that things never would be the same between us ever again. I wasn't quite sure how Nate felt since I hadn't talked to him since our little incident, and even though Kay gave away a lot more about him than she realized, it still wasn't enough. Nate was a tough person to read most of the time, so you could never tell what he was feeling, or what kind of mood he was in.

And, you know, it was quite unusual that he hadn't bugged me yet. Not once today did he come up to me and tease me. He didn't even talk to me in English, the only class we shared together. In fact, I'm pretty sure he avoided me altogether. I had a feeling that whatever he was thinking, it wasn't what I wanted it to be. But I couldn't dwell on it, because, really, I had more important things to worry about then whether some stupid boy liked me or not. Although, I will admit, when Kay caught me staring off into space, I was thinking of exactly that: whether some stupid boy liked me or not. The wonder was inescapable, I found out; Kay tried to get me back on track, but to no avail.

"He sure did a number on you, didn't he?" I had only heard half of what she's said to me, and I blinked, looking over at her.

"Hmm? I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"Good grief," she said with a slight chuckle. "You need to focus, or you'll never pass this class."

"I'll never pass this class anyway," I muttered, but I sighed and leaned in, skimming over the page. She was right; I did need to focus. So I tried my hardest to reel my mind away from any distracting thoughts and opened my ears to what Kay was telling me about the Civil War. And let me tell you just how much fun I had.

Not.