Chapter 1

A gentle breeze moved the leaves on the Cedar tree, stirring up a puff of pollen that set the forest on fire in the eyes of neighbours six year-old Sonny and seven year-old Chad. Forest, of course, being a very loose term our two intrepid explorers used to describe the five fifteen-foot assorted trees on the right of the old and infamous 'Nightmare House', which was really just an abandoned Victorian-era house the neighbourhood had accepted because it has 'history'. But that's all grown-up talk; as far as these young friends were concerned, it was the most dangerous place on Earth.

They were crouching behind the broken remnants of the picket fence, protected in their hiding place from all threats obviously posed everywhere in the building they faced.

"You're scared." Chad chided, poking Sonny in the side so that she squealed, completely disproving her next comment.

"I am not, you are." She scowled over her should at her best friend since birth.

He smiled back, and soon enough the pair were grinning at each other, their tiny bodies filling with adrenaline as they slowly crept through the pint-sized gaps in the fence.

Standing on the lawn was a significant change from the safe sidewalk they'd been on mere moments ago, and they both felt the shift of realisation. Chad glanced over at his brave, but still sensitive girl friend (whom he had to regularly assure all his other friends was not his girlfriend). His presence was at this point forgotten, and all bravado lost to the utter terror the realisation of what they were about to do. With the tiniest second of hesitation (which was directly related to his consideration of the girl cooties he knew she must have), Chad gently grasped Sonny's hand.

She turned slightly, unwilling to take her eyes fully off the 'Nightmare House', and gripped his fingers. It hurt a little, but he didn't say anything.

He moved forward, continuing on their journey into the unknown, but a tug on his hand halted him. He turned back to look at Sonny; the fear and pleading on her face destroyed any conviction he had to complete their mission.

"Sonny," he smiled sheepishly, "Would you mind if we didn't go? I'm a little too scared."

Sonny sighed with relief and spoke at the same time, already making a start on her retreat. "If you're scared, that's fine."

Chad smiled to himself. "Thanks, Sonny. You're my best friend."

Once they were safely on the other side of the fence, Sonny spun and threw her arms around Chad's neck. "You're my best friend, too."

Chad hugged her back awkwardly, remembering his earlier concerns about girl cooties, but ignoring the urge to pull away because – and he'd never ever admit this, of course – it didn't feel one hundred percent bad.

Sonny finally let go, but didn't immediately step back. Chad looked down curiously at her. A silent moment passed where neither really knew what was going on or what was going to happen, then suddenly – as if not of her own volition – Sonny rolled up onto the balls of her feet and planted a light kiss on his lips.

It lasted only a moment, and then they were apart, once again silent. Both stared at their feet uncomfortably for the longest time in either of their lives. Eventually, much to the relief of the pair, a yell came from down the street.

"Sonny, Chad?! What did we say about going into that house?!"

Now relieved from speaking of what had just happened, the two best friends drew their eyes up to each other, mischievous grins spreading across their faces.

Sonny was the first to look away, down to where her mother had called to them. "We didn't, Mom, Chad got too scared!"

Chad's jaw dropped as Sonny's head popped to see his reaction.

A moment later he was chasing her down the street, back to the safety of their houses and mothers, both shrieking with glee.

Sonny say it happening, but there was just no way she could stop it. She had a tray filled with glasses brimming with beer and other alcoholic beverages in one hand and a platter of starters in the other. Stopping the buck head from breaking off of the wall under the weight of the excessively drunk guy currently (but not for long) straddling it would have been impossible with free hands, let alone in her heavily-laden state. So, to save her customers order – and, with that, her tip – she simply took a step backwards and carefully turned the food and drink so that it didn't catch any of the plaster now showering the area she'd been stood in moments ago.

With a sigh, she skilfully manoeuvred her way around the moaning man on the floor and placed the items on their table, with only the mildest of proud flourishes. Not that anyone at the table paid her any mind; they were all too busy openly gawking at the now-bawling drunk on the floor as he nursed his well-deserved injuries.

Having completed her task, she finally rounded on the guy, speaking politely (though admittedly through her teeth), "Are you alright, sir?"

He looked up at her, as if just realising that there were people standing around him, and abruptly vomited all down the front of her apron.

Sonny, sadly, barely reacted, as was the regularity of this type of occurrence in the past week. She sighed and grabbed the dishrag from her back pocket, telling herself that today was the last day, tomorrow they'd all be gone.

Cleaning up drunks was exactly what you'd expect a job at a bar in a big city, but in her small town of Wimberley, Texas, Sonny had thought it would mean getting to see her few remaining friends from around town who patronised the fine (and only) establishment in town that served alcohol. That, however, was not the case for one week in March every year: Spring Break.

For some unknown reason, her tiny town an hour out of Austin had become a popular haunt for co-eds from local colleges looking for a cheap holiday. That meant that she had to single-handedly (because Jo, the owner and her cheapskate, deadbeat employer, refused to hire another waitress, even if only for a week) deal with up to thirty grabby college students. Thankfully, a few other places around town got temporary alcohol licenses for this week, but still, Jo's was the favourite.

"Hey, sweet thing." Drunk guy slurred up at her as she tried to clean him up, and Sonny gagged as a bubble appeared in the vomit lining his lips. "Wanna get outta here?"

She gave him a tight-lipped smile, then turned quickly to his supposed friends standing by, watching him make mistakes like climbing atop a mounted buck head on the wrong side of twelve various shots. "Whose bill do I put this on?"

The all laughed and pointed at the guy rolling on the floor. Sonny stood and hurried back behind the bar. Greg, the barman, quirked an eyebrow in question, but hadn't the time to hear what had happened, because a frat-boy was waving his hand in front of his face to be served.

Sonny quickly took off the vomit-covered apron, wiping away whatever had transferred to her other clothes, and made her way back onto the busy floor, now adorned only in mid-thigh length grey denim skirt and a white tank top with a blue button-up shirt over top. If she took her hair down she could probably blend right in with the crowd and never have to wait on these people again. Wishful thinking, but if she did that she'd lose her job, and in a town this small, you didn't through away jobs, no matter how demeaning.

"Hey, Miss?" Sonny turned to the voice, making the safe assumption that it was for her. It was one of drunk guy's 'friends'. She headed over.

"Can I help?" She spoke to him, but she was already eyeing the rest of the room, seeing who needed serving so she could line up her next customer.

"Maybe." He smirked, and she already knew this conversation would be a waste of her time. "What time do you get off?" He chuckled to himself. "I mean, what time do you finish here, getting off can come just after." With a wink, he took a step closer.

Sonny sighed. "I'm really busy, and really not interested. Do you need anything or not?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "What's your deal? Are you gay or something?"

Sonny rolled her eyes. "Will that get you to leave me alone?"

In whatever drunken state he was in, he'd interpreted this as a come-on. He laughed. "Not if you're still game."

With agility unbefitting how obviously drunk he was, he ducked his head and suddenly his lips were planted near enough on hers, and his arm had wrapped around the back her neck. Despite her ferocious struggling, he held on, and his other hand slowly ran down her back and firmly grasped her ass, making her gasp. This, of course, gave him cause to believe she was into it, and he wedged his tongue in her mouth.

This was Sonny's opportunity, and she bit down hard (but not so hard as to really hurt him). He immediately released every part of her. Before she knew what was happening, he was swept back in the crowd and everyone was cheering around her like they'd witnessed a great sporting event. Money was exchanged, and it became quickly clear that betting had taken place over whether this guy could go all the way with the wait staff.

Sonny's breathing hitched, her chest tightened and hand went clammy. All the attention was on her, every head turned her way, laughing at her, taunting her. She had to get out.

She screamed and threw her arms out, thrashing until enough of a space was cleared that she could force her way out of the crowd and through to the back storage room. As she reached the door, as an afterthought she shot a glance back to Greg, ready to wave that she was taking a break, but her was already nodding at her, encouraging her to go. He'd seen it all, and that somehow made it worse. Being humiliated in front of these people was awful, but they would be gone soon enough, never to grace Sonny's life with their presence again. She knew Greg, she spent every day with him. She coached his daughter's swimming team.

Once she was in the safety of the dark, relatively quiet storage room, her heart slowed and her breathing evened. She sat for a while at the table Jo had put back there for high stakes poker games, before the sheriff had caught him, feeling her body relax.

She decided that Greg could handle the bar for a while longer, and ducked out the back door, relishing the feel of cool night air in her tired lungs. She paced the alley out the back of Jo's bar. It was a closed-off area, the only access to it came from the road running parallel to the one the bar was actually on, so she was safe here from college students with prying eyes and loud mouths.

She stared at the sky, recognising stars and constellations she'd learned in a different lifetime, before the bitter memories associated with them hit her and she turned her attention back to the Earth. A glance at her watch told her that she'd left Greg far longer than she'd intended, and much longer than he'd probably anticipated, and she hurried back in, ready to make it up to him by working herself three times as hard until closing.

She froze in the door to the main room. Through all the flurry of activity in the bar she saw him at the bar. It didn't take a second for her eyes to find him. Looking at him used to be as natural as breathing for her, it just happened; whenever he was nearby, her eyes would be drawn to him. She just hadn't realised that was still the case.

She pushed her way to the bar, ignoring comments that would have moments ago sent a flush through her. A few feet from the bar, she briefly entertained the idea that she could pretend she hadn't seen him, and he would ignore her, but that was quickly forgotten when his head finally turned towards her and their eyes met.

She made her way to the opposite side of the bar, where Greg stood awkwardly. In a town this small, everyone knew everyone, so he knew what our history was, and was maybe guessing how I was going to react.

I rested my elbows on the surface in front of him and nodded in greeting. "Chase."

He smiled apprehensively. "Sonny."

I stared him down. "What are you doing here?"

Chase leaned forward, so that our arms brushed together, and I immediately retracted, letting my arms fall to my sides. He flinched like I'd hurt him.

"I could ask you the same thing." He said after he'd recovered. "What happened to college?"

Sonny's eyes narrowed at him infinitesimally, half gauging if he was being honest and half annoyed by his words. "You don't know?"

Chase's face remained still, unlike before, giving no indication of his thoughts. "Know what?"

Sonny remained silent for a moment, deciding what to say. In the end, she went with, "Things change when you're away for six years, Chase."

With that she turned and made her way back to the floor, ignoring his calls to come back and explain. She busied herself around the room, praying he wouldn't follow her around and further her embarrassment from earlier with another drama centred around her. After five minutes, she couldn't help but glance back at the bar, but he wasn't there.

She didn't see him again that night, but that didn't stop her body from being filled with ice and red hot flames all at the same time until she went to bed, and she could convince herself she'd imagined the whole thing.