Hello readers! Sorry I haven't updated in so long, lots of stuff has been going on in my life, and I just haven't had time. Thanks for understanding! Hope you like Chapter 2! :)

"Hey, Albany, wait up!" a voice calls behind me as I load all of my schoolbooks back into my cramped locker. Today is Friday, which means the end of my school week. It also means that it's the beginning of Mom's therapy sessions. Since she is labeled too unstable to drive, I am entitled to drive for her. Taking her to her therapy sessions is never fun, though. Here is the schedule: come home from school, make sure Mom is ready to go to the therapist, take her to the therapist, wait in the waiting room for an hour, and finally take her home. Then, occasionally, she will blabber on and on about how she thinks the therapist hates her, and she doesn't stop complaining until you finally agree that he hates her, and then she starts crying because you think that, and it takes forever to calm her down again. It's a long process that I have to repeat every single weekend. "Albany!"

"Yes?" I sigh, exasperated, and once I turn around, I find my best friend Peeta rushing up in front of me and then stopping. His dirty blonde hair is scattered out all around his head, and his beautiful blue eyes meet with my sea green ones.

"I thought you were going to leave without me!" he exclaims, laughing, and I laugh too. Peeta and I have known each other for quite some time now... in fact, ever since kindergarten, we have always stuck together. Even when our first middle school dance came up, we went together. Of course, only as friends. Our other friends didn't think that, though. Now, even though we are juniors, we're still friends, and that is how it is going to stay.

"Of course I wouldn't leave without you, Peeta." I say in a baby voice, playfully pinching his cheek. He starts laughing again, pushing my hand away.

"Anyway, are you almost done putting your books away yet? Don't you have to leave for your mom's therapy in an hour or something?" he asks, and I carefully put the last book (my Social Studies book) and my assignment binder in my ordinary, blue-and-gray striped backpack. Finally, I throw my backpack on my shoulder, and Peeta slams my locker shut for me.

"Okay, now we can go." I tell him. He grins at me and holds out his hand.

"Do I have to hold your hand while we cross the street?"

"No, I think you will be just fine." I reply, patting his shoulder. We have always had a little game of 'safety first' whenever we are together, ever since we started walking to school together in 1st grade. Peeta laughs once again, and, lowering his hand, starts walking towards the wide glass double doors in the front of the school. I run after him, and my backpack hits my back every time I take a step. Once I catch up to Peeta, who is waiting by the doors, he pulls open one of the doors for me, and I walk through, shooting him a kind smile.

"So..." he starts after we walk out of the doors and down the old concrete steps that lead to the school. The cool October air hits my face as I walk. "Do you have to take your mom to her therapy session today?"

"Yeah, just like every Friday afternoon." I reply over my shoulder. Peeta is the only one besides me who really knows what goes on inside my house.

"Oh. Well, do you need me to do anything for you?"

"Yes. How about make sure my dad doesn't come back home tomorrow?"

"Ah, so he's coming home again after how long? Five months?" Suddenly, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Nodding, I reach into my pocket for my phone and flip it open to find my mom's caller ID.

"Hold on, I have to take this call." I mutter, pressing the accept button and holding the phone up to my ear. My state of mind quickly changes from being teasing to comforting. "Hello, Mom!"

"Is this the kid?" an unrecognizable voice comes through the phone. I narrow my eyes and stop walking. Peeta stops too and glances at me with a confused expression on his face. Who is calling from my mom's phone? It surely isn't anyone that I know, telling from the person's voice. They sound like they could be a guy, but I can't be completely sure.

"Um, yeah. Who is this? Where is my mom?" I start questioning.

"Your mom is currently not conscious and lying on the ground." This reply doesn't reassure me, if that is what he was trying to do. In fact, this really worries me. This person could have hurt my mom.

"What did you do to her?!" I shout into the phone.

"I didn't do anything!" the person defends. "I was just walking back to my house, but all of the sudden, I saw someone driving along, and before I knew it, they crashed into a tree. When I got over to the car, I saw that the driver was a woman, and I pulled her out of the car. She gave me her phone, told me to call her kid, and then she passed out. Now, she's lying on the ground."

"Oh God, I told her not to drive." I mumble. Shaking my head, I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose with my fingers. "Okay, okay. Where did she crash?" The person gives me the details of where my mom crashed, and I nod to acknowledge the information. "Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"You might want to hurry up. She really doesn't look too good. Her face is getting paler by the minute."

"I'll be there as soon as I can!" I repeat, slightly annoyed as I hang up. Sighing, I shove the phone back into my pocket. Quickly, I throw my backpack on the ground and start rummaging through it for any possible money for a cab. Unfortunately, I find out that I don't have any, and I zip my backpack up in defeat. "Peeta, do you possibly have any money in your backpack that you could loan me?"

"I don't know. Let me check." Peeta answers, repeating the same process as I check my pockets. Nope, not there either. After a minute, his hand flies out of his backpack and into the air. "Aha! Found some."

"How much?" I ask, snatching the small wad of money out of his hand and counting it. He zips his backpack up again and throws it onto his shoulder.

"Should be about $15, I think." He informs me. When I have counted up the money, it indeed equals to $15. "What is this about, anyway? Why do we need money?"

"It's really a long story, but if you can call a cab, I'll tell you on the way there." I reply, staring at him with puppy eyes. After a minute, he sighs and walks over to the side of the traffic-filled street in front of school, waving his hand in front of the passing cars. Finally, after a few attempts, he manages to get a cab, and it pulls over in front of him.

"Shall we?" Peeta inquires, smirking at me. Walking over to the cab, I smirk at him and nod as I climb into the back seat. The aroma of the inside of the car is disgusting, with the mixed scents of sweat, garlic, and other things that I don't want to think too much about. Peeta gets in after me and sets his backpack behind him. I hand $2 to the driver, who only has three fingers on one of his hands, and he accepts it without a word. After I tell him the destination, he turns around in his seat and immediately presses his foot on the gas pedal. I have to press my feet against the wall in front of me to keep my head from flying into the glass. While the driver heads to the crash site, I explain the situation to Peeta and hand back the money. Even though he tells me to keep it, I shove it in his backpack. All I can do now is hope and pray that Mom hasn't been hurt too seriously.

Who doesn't love our brilliant Peeta? :D So... what do you think? Good? Bad? 'meh'? Please let me know... I like to know what you think about the story! :D Also, happy late Thanksgiving everyone! (ps, who do you think the person was that called from Annie's phone?)

RANDOM WORDS OF THE DAY:

"Never ignore a person who loves you, cares for you, and misses you, because one day, you might wake up and realize that you lost the moon while counting the stars."

-SopranoGhostWriter :)