11:37 p.m.

Carl walked on the uneven pavement, quickly making his way to Dominique's house. He was supposed to get her at 11:30, and Carl knew her dad wasn't a very tolerant person.

He's gonna kill me one day.

He started to jog, his red jacket flapping in the wind.

He arrived at Dominique's two minutes later panting heavily. He caught his breath, then knocked lightly.

Her dad answered the door with a stern look on his face. "You're late," he said sharply.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Carl replied apologetically.

Her dad glared at him for a few seconds (which felt like a lifetime to Carl), and then moved aside to let him in.

Carl hurriedly stepped inside before her dad changed his mind. Dominique was walking down the stairs and smiled once she made it to the bottom, then kissed him on the cheek. "Hey, you ready to go?" She asked.

"Yep," Carl replied nervously. Her dad was silently staring at him, raising his left eyebrow.

Oh fuck.

"Dad, we have to go! Stop trying to scare Carl!"

He looked Carl over once more. "Back by 2?"

"Yes, sir," Carl said politely.

Deep down, Carl knew Dominique's dad didn't entirely hate him. I mean, he trusted Carl enough to take Dominique out this late.

He has to like me at least a little.

Dominique grabbed his hand and opened the door, dragging Carl outside.

"Bye Dad!" Dominique shouted over her shoulder as she walked quickly down the steps, still holding Carl's hand.

Carl didn't dare look back.

15 minutes later, they arrived at the party Carl heard about from Nick. It was pretty wild, but exactly what Carl expected. South Side parties weren't usually very tame.

Grabbing two beers from the kitchen counter, Carl led Dominique through the sweaty crowd, nodding to a few people he knew as he made his way through.

He spotted a chair and motioned towards it so Dominique would understand.

So loud in here.

However, Dominique wasn't paying attention to him. She was talking to a few of her friends that were there.

Carl waited patiently so he wouldn't lose her in the crowd. When she was finished, she grabbed his arm and moved her head closer to his hear.

"I'm gonna go take a few shots with them," she screamed, trying to make her voice heard over the angry rap song blasting through the speakers.

"Okay, I'll be over there," he shouted back, pointing at the leather chair in the corner. She smiled at him as a response and turned away, disappearing into the mass of bodies. Carl quickly made his way over to the chair hoping no one would take it before he reached it. He sat down and cracked open his can of beer, placing the other one for Dominique on the floor. Despite most people his age, Carl wasn't a big drinker. Frank had showed him what alcohol can do to a person. And a family.

Fucking Frank.

For a little Carl silently watched those around him. He talked to a few people, but most of them were completely trashed or just really out of it as a result of the array of drugs that were pretty much everywhere. There was even a bowl with many different-colored pills that people were grabbing handfuls of then throwing in their mouths, washing them down with some type of alcohol.

Idiots.

Even though Carl had sold drugs before he went to juvie, he never used. First, it wasn't smart to use your own merchandise. Second, he wasn't into that kind of stuff despite the popular belief that he was a "bad boy." The guys he hung around were into that kind of shit but he wasn't.

It was hard to see who was there. He craned his head to try to find Dominique, but she was nowhere to be seen. This worried him. Her dad is gonna kill me if something happens to her.

Before he could dwell on this thought, though, he was distracted by the entrance of someone he didn't think he would see at a South Side party.

Sophia Ross.

He knew Sophia was a partier because of her reputation around school, and how she did occasionally come to South Side parties. Yet, he had never expected to see her at one, especially at this one since it was pretty crazy. She walked through the crowd while holding on to someone's hand. He couldn't see who it was. Then, she suddenly turned around and pushed her way back through the horde of people.

Before he could question it, Dominique showed up at Carl's side. He stood up and she immediately grabbed on to his arm, swaying heavily. She was smashed.

Great.

"Heeeyyyy Carrrllll," she slurred, smirking at him and almost tripping over her own two feet. She fell back onto the chair. He gently moved her aside so he could sit next to her.

"Dominique?" She was leaning against him; it looked like she had passed out.

Shit.

He decided to wait it out so she would sober up a little before he took her back. It was 1:00 a.m. at that point.

She smelled like vodka and to be honest, Carl hated the smell of it. He hated the smell of alcohol in general. It reminded him of all of the times he had witnessed his dad drunk, the smell of beer on Frank's breath.

A few moments later Sophia emerged again. This time, she was dancing wildly and holding a bottle of tequila with a group of guys around her. He had never met Sophia. He generally avoided that group. He didn't hate them, but he did envy them. It was hard to like them after watching them pull up to school in expensive cars without a care in the world.

Carl looked over the room. Truthfully, he was kind of bored. He had never really enjoyed parties and usually just went to them to have something to do. Some were kind of interesting. But it was hard to have fun when everyone around you was trashed.

In a corner across the room he noticed a couple making out on the couch. The guy was someone he "worked" with. Most of the guys here were people he met through Nick, or people he did "business" with. He glanced over, towards the opposite side of the couch. Then, Carl did a double take.

What surprised him more than seeing Sophia here was seeing the person on the other end of the couch.

Kacey Bruno.

She was a part of the group of kids who were rich and lived in nice houses. Basically the opposite of the kids living in South Side.

What is she doing here?

Kacey didn't have a partying reputation. In fact, she didn't really have a reputation at all. It surprised Carl that she was holding a red solo cup; she didn't seem like the drinking type. Kacey was quieter and more reserved than most of the people she was friends with. Carl had a few classes with her, and she tended to keep to herself. But the few times she did talk, she had seemed really nice.

He remembered a time when a girl in his grade had broken her leg and was unable to carry her books to her classes. Kacey had walked her to every class. For a few weeks, Kacey was late to the classes she had with Carl. Her teachers didn't seem to mind, though. He knew she was smart, and the teachers loved her because of this. And he knew she loved to read. In their English class together, she always got super enthusiastic when they had discussions. It was one of the rare times she talked a lot.

Kacey was sitting on the couch, silently observing the people around her. Eventually, she checked her phone. The light illuminated her face and she quickly dimmed it.

It's so goddamn dark.

Dominique shifted slightly and moved her head farther from Carl, but he didn't really notice. He was thinking about Kacey's father; Frank actually knew him from The Alibi Room. Carl had seen him there on the rare occasion when he went there to find Frank.

Why is her dad there so much?

Carl narrowed his eyes, still looking at Kacey. He was kind of intrigued by her.

Maybe both of our dads are alcoholic assholes.

There was the sound of a bottle smashing in the room adjacent to him, but he was still staring at Kacey, lost in his thoughts.

He can't be like my dad. Everyone would know.

Pretty much everyone in Chicago knew Frank was an alcoholic dick.

Carl saw Kacey slowly scan the room over. Then, she looked directly at him. For a few seconds she squinted at him and was trying to figure out who he was. A look of recognition, then confusion, appeared on her face.

He didn't look away.

Stop staring at her you creepy fuck. But he didn't.

He expected her to look away in fear of him. Most people these days were terrified to be in his presence. Probably because he hung around Nick, who looked like he could kill a kid just by slapping them. Also, everyone knew Carl sold guns at school. Even the teachers knew. But they didn't punish him: they just bought guns from him.

He had a ruthless reputation. Rumors were always spreading around about him, each one crazier than the last. Some people had made up a rumor that Carl had killed a guy because he had looked at him wrong, and that's why Carl went to juvie. He was sure Kacey had heard all of the rumors.

Yet, she didn't look away.

To Carl's surprise, she sharply moved her head up and raised an eyebrow. It looked like she was saying "bring it on," without actually saying it.

Carl just stared in shock, almost speechless. Pretty much everyone avoided eye contact with him or any form of contact with him in general. And here was this harmless girl who was basically telling him, a known drug-dealing/gun-selling criminal, to "back off."

She continued to glare back at him, an intense determination in her eyes.

Carl started to smile. He couldn't help it. She was the first to not be intimidated by him in a long time.

Honestly, it was nice. He was sick of everyone avoiding him. Sick of being feared. Sick of being a "delinquent."

Kacey frowned a little at his smile, looking puzzled.

Then some guys came plowing into the room and blocked his view of her. Right then, Dominique awoke from her drunk stupor and sat up slowly. Carl averted his eyes from the drunk guys and looked at Dominique.

"You good?" He asked, slightly out of it.

She held her head in her hands and her face was screwed up in pain.

"I don't feel so great," she shouted, now placing her hands over her stomach.

Carl checked his phone for the time. 1:30.

He decided he should just take Dominique back a little early. Hopefully her dad was asleep.

"Come on. I'll get you some water." He helped her get up and she held onto his arm as they navigated their way through the doorway to the kitchen. Carl glanced back at Kacey before he left the room. She was looking at the leather chair he had been sitting in, her eyebrows knit together and a look of bewilderment etched on her face.