A/N: Real life gets in the way of FanFiction. Who knew? All I can say is:

1) Please (pretty please) forgive the long wait. I had A Level exams etc...

2) I hope you are all still interested in seeing where this story is going :)

3) A HUGE GIGANTIC thank you to everyone who has added this to their Favourites and/or Followed list and/or Reviewed! You may not think it from how long it has taken for this chapter to come up, but it has definitely motivated me to continue writing.

Finally, a shout out is due to MissyCole23 who PM'd me and asked for an explanation about the ending of the last chapter, which may have been confusing for some. Basically what I meant by 'opposites', isn't that Paige and Phoebe's personalities are opposite. Just that they have completely different/opposite ideas about family... Like Phoebe wants to move out to get away from her 'opressive sisters' as soon as she's 18, whereas Paige quite likes the idea of having siblings to talk to and confide in – so in that way they are (using my logic anyhow) quite opposite in their family ideals.

Anyway, enough with the preamble, here's the next chapter:

Grey trees, only sparsely decorated with fragile leaves, swayed slightly in the freezing wind that had been raging since midday. People sped inside to avoid the cold, all the while moaning about the sudden change to the warm spring weather they had been experiencing over the past few weeks. Not everyone was in such a hurry to be cooped up inside though.

A group of around fifteen teenagers sprawled on the freshly cut grass in Golden Gate Park, and no one could say that they were being law-abiding citizens. As Paige glanced around her she noticed Ryan had finally managed to start a small fire on a tree stump and was sucking up praise from the girls nearest him. She couldn't help but roll her eyes: he was such an attention seeker. The moment Phoebe had introduced them, he had given her a flirtatious smile followed by 'and how old might you be, sweet cheeks?' Phoebe had acted weirdly around him; first of all she shot him a warning glare as if to say 'back off', but then she buttered him up by randomly changing the subject to compliment his apparently newly toned abs. In response to his comment, Paige had surprised even herself by bravely retorting 'old enough to know better'; which had shut Ryan up – for the time being at least.

Rick and Todd had brought out spray cans that looked suspiciously similar to the ones Paige had been using at school only a few hours earlier, and had set about tagging a nearby wall which had thus far miraculously remained untouched by the numerous other San Francisco graffiti artists. They earned many disgruntled looks from Ramona, Violet and Will, who had been leaning against it gossiping.

Despite not being one inclined to pry into other people's business, Paige had learnt from the other girls' non-stop jabbering that Ryan was in fact Phoebe's on/off boyfriend. What a weird couple, Paige thought inwardly, struggling to see why Phoebe would put up with someone who blatantly flirted with other girls all the time and seemed to have no respect for her whatsoever.

Currently though, it wasn't hard to see why the two were together, as they were sucking face a few feet away, Ryan caressing Phoebe in places Paige preferred not to think about. Instead, she revelled in how easy it had been to fit in with the group. They had eyed her questioningly at first, sure, but after she had shot down their teasing remarks about her braces and bangs with some carefully applied sarcasm, they'd just laughed and accepted her as a somewhat young, new addition to the gang. How much that had to do with Phoebe's influence over them Paige decided she didn't want to know. Thank the stars above I managed to shut my big mouth when Phoebe crashed into me this morning, Paige thought, imagining how it could have gone down if she had acted as she usually did and hadn't left off…

"Just get up and get out of my way weirdo," snaps Phoebe as I jump to my feet.

"Whatever, slut, you bumped into me – not the other way around," I tell her scathingly, anger and adrenaline momentarily causing me to forget that I am trying to stay in her good books. Her eyes narrow dangerously.

"Bitch, what did you just call me?" She asks forcefully, stepping over her papers to close the distance between us.

"You heard. Or should I call you 'freebie' instead?" I taunt, though inside I wish I'd never started this verbal relay.

"You don't even know what that means, take that back," she whispers warningly, but I can't back down now that I've started.

"Aw, hit a nerve did I, Freebie?"

Paige shuddered. And then she probably would have slapped me, quite rightly, and I would have tried to hit her back and we'd both have been hauled down to the principal's office before the bell for first period even tolled. Why did I restrain myself though? Paige wondered. I guess someone up there is looking out for me, she figured, smiling to herself having deduced all this. With a bounce in her step a girl from the gang, that Paige vaguely thought she recognised, came over and offered her a cigarette. She accepted the roll up gratefully, smiling.

"You're Paige right? Phoebe's little friend?" The older girl, whom Paige believed was called Rae, had bright blue eyes that examined her curiously; the girl's fair skin was freckled and she had short brown hair in a pixie cut, artfully styled with gel.

"Yeah, I guess I am. You're Rae, right? I've seen you cheerleading at the Eagle's football games; you're really good," Paige said, though slightly riled at being called 'little'. She was in fact quite tall for her age. The girl sat down cross legged beside her and grinned somewhat ruefully.

"Oh, thanks, but I only really do it for extra-curricular 'cos my guidance counsellor was on my ass all last term about not having enough to get into college. The joys of being a senior I guess," she muttered and sighed overdramatically.

"You're a senior?" Paige exclaimed in surprise. She had been thinking more on the lines of a sophomore, maybe even a freshman like her.

"I know right, I look like I haven't aged past thirteen. You wouldn't believe how annoying it is when this lot can all get a-hold of fake ID no problem, but the supplier takes one look at me and is like: go take a hike. Guess I can't blame the dude too much..." Rae smiles wistfully.

"Sorry, but fake ID for what? You mean to get into clubs?" Paige solicited, trying very hard not to inject into her voice the increasing admiration she felt for the gang; she didn't want to sound babyish and uninitiated into the whole thing. Most of them have fake ID? That is totally illegal…and so awesome! Paige thought excitedly, instantly speculating as to whether she looked old enough to get one.

"Hon, I wouldn't get your hopes up," Rae laughed good naturedly, though swiftly bursting Paige's bubble, "your A-cups wouldn't cut it for starters, then you'd need to invest in some serious heels to cover up your height, and that's even before caking your baby face in make-up, so the photo makes you look over twenty-one." The way Rae was advising her with such sincerity made it impossible for Paige to even contradict her. It was obvious she knew what she was talking about.

"Guess I don't wanna end up looking like Mrs Smith anyway…" Paige told her, more to cheer herself up than because she really disliked the teacher.

"God, I'm glad I'm not the only one who's noticed! Who does she think she's trying to impress with that amount of rouge and lippy? This is San Fran, not Hollywood for crying out loud!" Rae said.

"I heard she used to be like a TV presenter or something and that's where she gets it from. I wonder what she looks like without it all…"

"Well she does teach a Journalism elective so that would make sense…hell yeah! I would pay to see that woman come to class with a freshly scrubbed face."

They both laughed at the image they had in their heads. Rae decided she liked Paige. For once Phoebe may have found a keeper, she thought, happy to have discovered a kindred spirit in the younger girl.

"Oh geez," Paige suddenly exhaled.

"What is it?" Asked Rae, surprised by her own anxious tone of voice and making a mental note to take her over protectiveness, for a girl she had literally only just met, down a couple of notches.

"Nothing really, I just so badly wanna steal that can from Todd and spray something half decent – I get graffiti is a form of self expression but that can't be all he can paint," Paige told Rae exasperated. Rae chuckled when she saw that Todd and Rick had managed to spray their names – in a blotchy, oversized-handwriting style – and a couple of very crude pictures of male sex organs.

"Are you much of an artist then?" Rae asked curiously, like Phoebe, she felt intrigued by the newcomer to their inner circle.

"I guess so. I sketch nearly every day. Portraits mainly and sometimes abstract when I can get hold of paints and a canvas; but I do love graffiti art," she responded, her eyes alight with enthusiasm as she talked.

"Well in that case, wish no longer…Oi! Rick! Give us a couple of spray cans and stop hogging them all to yourself, you douche. They're not even yours anyway," Rae instructed the younger guy with a confident air and an easy smile.

Rick looked up, annoyed that someone had dared interrupt his work. When he spied who it was that had demanded his attention however, his demeanour rapidly changed.

"Aw come on Rae, we were just getting started," he whined in a feeble attempt to keep his prized stolen cans.

"Sorry dude, our turn now. Go help Ryan burn the place down or something," Rae pointed in the direction of the dwindling fire Ryan had started earlier, and to Paige's amazement Rick looked elated. He quickly dropped the cans and hurried over with his own lighter already flicked open.

"He's something of a pyromaniac, but not many people know that," the older girl informed Paige slyly, as they both made their way over to the wall to try and salvage what was left of it. When Paige looked at her quizzically, as if demanding further explanation, she shrugged.

"We've been friends a long time… kindergarten I think. You have anyone like that in your life?" Rae asked. She seems like the type that would be quite shy until you get to know her, but then once she's out of her shell is actually really confident…Rae guessed intuitively.

"Erm yeah I do… A guy called Glenn. He lives across town though, so we can only really see each other at weekends," Paige told her timidly, she never normally talked about Glenn. She saw him as a sort of secret talisman.

Paige had already started to remedy some of the boys' 'art', throwing vibrant hues of orange, red and purple in various patterns as her background. She soon got immersed in the process of spraying out her own unique tag, a design that had always been a major part of her life. The coloured paint travelled in carefully controlled arcs, each one interlocking with the other to create three interwoven segments. A bold black circle united the rainbow effect and Paige stepped back to admire her handiwork. It looked slightly different each time she did it: sometimes the circle was very tight and evenly spaced out, other times it remained nearer the tips of the arcs. Once, Paige distinctly remembered she had felt a strong urge to draw it without the circle and with the segments apart from each other. She had done it, but a few days later gone back and 'repaired' it: it hadn't felt right. Paige failed to notice that Rae had finished her side too.

"Nice. Does it mean something special?" The pixie-like girl asked speculatively, glancing from the artwork to Paige and back again, from beneath her long eyelashes.

Paige lifted her eyes from her own work and let them drift to Rae's side of the wall. Her breath caught in her throat. The girl had depicted a forest scene interwoven with modern realities. A squirrel in the corner was riding a skateboard and holding its own spray can, a tree was adorned with bright red heart shaped balloons instead of leaves, some of which had eyes and bandages on them. It reminds me of that famous British graffiti artist, Paige thought awed, I wish I could do that. Birds, a turtle, and a hedgehog – all were present in detailed miniature, and in the centre was her own tag, Paige assumed. The words Rae Fire were emblazoned across a half blue, half red flame-like shape that seemed to depict the unification of fire and water – a white star was the centre point where the opposing elements met. Paige cleared her throat, realising she hadn't answered Rae's question.

"Yeah it's kinda special I guess… Mine's nothing on yours though. How do you get in so much detail and depth? And is it inspired by that British guy…erm Banksy I think it is?" Paige couldn't help asking so many questions, she loved all things art related and talking about it was almost as good as creating it in her opinion.

"Paige, yours is just as good – kind of like a Celtic symbol I'd say. I guess I've always had an eye for detail and when I took my art elective we focused on dimensions for like a whole semester so… And yeah it is Banksy inspired! All my work is. I love his style and I just can't get it out of my head. He goes for replicating city scenes and people to make like political points – I prefer animals and nature. I'm impressed you know him though, hardly any Americans do. I lived in the UK for two years, that's how I heard of him," Rae chatters away happily.

As Paige went to reply she suddenly realised how dark it had gotten and how quiet it was. She could see Violet sat on her own texting away and Ramona had as usual appeared out of thin air and was hovering beside her. Phoebe and Todd were long gone it seemed, beer cans littering the area they had occupied, and of the rest of the gang only Rae remained.

"UK, huh? I'd like to go there sometime maybe, if I saved up enough cash. Hey, do you have the time?" Paige asked somewhat reluctantly, dreading the answer already. She knew it was past her curfew on a school night, particularly as she hadn't even called home to tell her parents she wouldn't be coming straight back.

"It's ten to nine, hon, you have somewhere to be?" Rae wondered, simultaneously confirming Paige's worst fears.

"Shit. I was meant to be home at eight. My parents are going to kill me, then dig up my cold corpse and kill me again," Paige moaned uncharacteristically, she couldn't deal with her parents' anger and disappointment right now. Not so soon after the last time they had lectured her about responsibility, job prospects and making a meaningful life for herself. This is just fucking great, Paige thought venomously.

"Morbid much? But hey, if you need a ride then just say the word; my car is five minutes walk away and it'll save you waiting around for a tram. It's up to you?" Rae offered.

"Seriously? That's so nice of you. Thank you, I owe you big time," Paige said with relief evident on her face. Rae seems so nice, why is it I've always thought that she was bitchy and mean? Am I that judgemental? Paige wondered, frowning and causing the skin above her nose to crinkle as she followed Rae to the car park down the road. She considered calling her parents but then realised her cell had died during last period Chemistry at school and so that was pretty much out of the question. She was too shy to ask Rae for even more help, she felt like she was imposing enough as it was.

It seemed like they were pulling up in front of Paige's house in mere seconds rather than the actual twenty minutes the drive took. The two girls had chatted amiably for most of the journey, only having a mock argument when Rae began listing her favourite bands – all of whom were, according to Paige, whiney voiced, big headed, stereotypical rich kids who didn't deserve to have albums out. Needless to say, Rae had fought tooth and nail against such assertions.

"Thank you so much for the lift; you're a serious life saver. Anything you want, say the word and I'll try my best to help you out," Paige said as she forced herself to leave the safety and comfort of the car and shut its door behind her.

"No problem at all dude. I hope you don't get in too much trouble; it was cool hanging out today," Rae called through the open car window, "See you when I see you!"

With that, Rae put her banged up baby blue Ford Mustang into gear and sped off down the usually quiet road. Paige looked up at her house in anxious trepidation and noticed the curtain quiver ever so slightly. Great, she thought, my mom knows I'm home and is probably right now rehearsing a lecture with dad and thinking up some brilliant punishment. Shoot, I don't have any gum or perfume! Paige cursed silently at her lack of forethought – now her parents would probably find out she was a smoker. Could I be any more screwed right now?

Putting her key in the hole, she turned it with bated breath and was not in the least surprised to see her mom standing in the hallway wringing her hands; her dad stood just behind her, his hands placed protectively and comfortingly on his wife's shoulders. Paige turned around to close the door and buy some more time to think up a decent excuse, but before she could even begin explaining herself, her father's naturally loud voice seemed to reverberate through her skull.

"And what time do you call this? Your mother was considering calling the SFPD and quite frankly I was starting to think about it too. Did you forget how to use a cell phone? Or perhaps it slipped your mind that your curfew on school nights is eight pm – no exceptions! It is now twenty minutes past nine!" Mark Matthews did not often raise his voice, but on the rare occasions that he did, the neighbours were no doubt aware of the occurrence. Having been an army major before his retirement the previous year it was a habit that would take many more years to break, if ever.

"Dad, I-" Paige began miserably.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" Mark asked irritably, his patience had been pushed to its limit by Paige the entire month and now this? It was completely beyond his militarily disciplined mind to understand how his daughter – for he considered her his daughter and always had done despite the biology of it all – could have so little responsibility and care for the worry she was inflicting on others.

"No, you didn't, but-"

"Then stay silent until I tell you otherwise! I am beyond disappointed in you Paige Elizabeth Matthews and as such you will not be leaving this house other than to go to school for the foreseeable future and-" Mark's face was the picture of shock when he was interrupted by a frustrated shout.

"You're not even giving me a chance to explain! My cell died, I was with some friends just hanging out at Golden Gate Park and we lost track of time, it's hardly a criminal offence to…" Paige trailed off meekly when she glanced at the disgusted expression on her dad's face and the complete and utter disappointment on her mom's.

"Paige, we're not mad because of where you were or who you were with. We're upset because you didn't tell us and frankly didn't even try to contact us. Dianne has a cell phone that she never lets run out of battery. And you didn't come home anywhere near on time, so we were worried sick, honey," Helen Matthews interjected soothingly; she could see that her daughter was shaken up by her husband's harsh words but trying not to show it. In that respect Mark and her daughter were so much alike: both stubborn as bulls.

Why do they always have to make me feel so damn guilty? I always feel inadequate enough as it is, does mom have to make it worse telling me all the things I should've done if I was a good, responsible daughter? Paige thought furiously, her head ready to explode from the pressure headache that had been forming from the second she set eyes on her childhood home. Suddenly she couldn't hold it back any longer, a dam of angry tears flooded her eyes but she refused to let them fall. I will not let them see me cry, she vowed. She looked up from her battered converses.

"You don't have the right to tell me what to do or how to live my life! You're not even my real parents!" Paige yelled and then cupped her mouth with her hands in shock of what she had just said. Her mom's face crumpled in shock and anguish and before another word could be said she stumbled into the living room, closing the door behind her. Muffled sobs could be heard on the other side of the door.

"Dad, I-" Paige tried to rectify her mistake, feeling wretched for making her mom cry.

"Save it, young lady. I don't care if I am your real father or not, if you ever talk to your mother like that again you won't be able to sit down for a month. Do I make myse – is that smoke I can smell? Have you been smoking?" Mark asked with a new edge to his voice, his eyes were like steel: cold and unforgiving. Paige, already white as a sheet from his previous threat, balked in their ferocity and made to run up the stairs to the safety of her room.

"Don't you dare run away from me," Mark shouted and roughly grabbed her arm as Paige struggled to make her escape, "Answer the question right now or I swear I'll call my old military school and enrol you, starting immediately. You know I don't make empty promises, Paige," Mark warned dangerously.

"I… Dad please, you wouldn't understand! Everyone does it, I only have like a packet a week," Paige's voice started to tremble towards the end of her sentence as her dad's eyebrows nearly reached his hairline at her admittance. Abruptly, all the fight seemed to flow out of him and he released his vice-like grip on her arm.

"Get out of my sight," Mark hissed, glaring into his daughter's wide brown eyes, "Only talk to us when you can apologise properly for what you've done."

Paige stared at him as if in a trance. Her body seemed to be numb; all she was aware of was a rushing sound in her ears and a dull throb in her upper arm.

"But I really am sorry…" Paige whispered truthfully, but so quietly that her dad was only aware that her lips had moved. Her anger at her parents' overbearing nature had ebbed and she was once again back to feeling wracked with guilt at causing them to worry so much.

"Go I said!" Mark yelled, finally losing his temper and sending a stinging smack Paige's thigh as she slipped out of her reverie and hurried as fast as her fourteen-year-old legs could carry her up the wooden staircase to her room.

There, she quickly closed the door – locked it – and, not bothering to turn on the lights, sunk down to her knees, fists clenched and shaking. She shoved her phone on charge and as she moved back closer to her bedroom door could make out raised voices downstairs. She hastily clamped her headphones over her ears and turned up The Clash to the loudest volume that could be reached on her walkman. The tears she had kept at bay trickled slowly down her cheeks, leaving trails of hot, salty water in their wake. Paige sniffed and rubbed at her eyes trying to stop her heaving emotions from taking over. She could feel the powdery texture of mascara coming away onto her fingers and realised she must look a real state. Her imagination provided images far worse than any she would ever have seen had she turned on the light and looked in the mirror, but Paige couldn't bear to move from the spot she found herself in and only cried harder.

I'll never be good enough for them, she thought sadly. And no matter what I do I'll never be truly theirs, just some kid they felt sorry enough to adopt when she was a baby. Paige's depressing thought train continued in a similar fashion until she finally stood up and crawled into bed. The clown doll she always found comforting, for some reason looked garish and horrifying tonight. She could finally see why Glenn referred to him as 'Scary Slappy'. Instead, she grabbed the one thing that reminded her of who she was. A baby blanket embroidered with the letter P in purple thread. There was nothing spectacular, nothing even remotely special about it really. Only the fact that it was the one thing Paige's real parents had left her with when they went to Sister Agnes and left her at the church.

Smoothing it out with her fingers Paige didn't allow herself to continue crying. It was a sign of weakness and vulnerability, something she had promised never to show again after the thugs had gotten to her those few months ago. As she drifted off into a fitful sleep she couldn't help but wonder why she had been abandoned as a baby. Perhaps her parents had known even then that this would be the way she would turn out: disobedient, disrespectful and, despite her best efforts, weak.

Paige's cell phone beeped and she wearily picked it up from her bedside table and noted it was an unknown number. Oh who cares, what's the worst that can happen at this point? Paige reasoned and opened the text message.

party my place 2nite, 11 till l8.
come nd hve some fun paige! pheebs x

Paige was stunned. I can't, she thought... Or can I?