Summary: So far, Dylan has been in the household for a month, Celia and Dylan have made out numerous times, Amanda and Dylan are going to the Winter Homecoming, as are Danny and celia. A drug dealer called William Horth has tried to convince Dylan to run away and join the gang again, various references to Dylan's family and how they died, and...I think that's it? :S

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I'm not gonna say much about this update...just...enjoy! ;)

Disclaimer: Don't own PC or ROA or CR...(CHAIN REACTION IS GONNA BE AWESOME THOUGH! CAN I GET A WHOOP?)

Celia

It's around five by the time we get home. Thank God, mom's smart, and thought ahead, arranging for a babysitter to pick Maria up from school and make her some snacks, so she didn't get hungry. Estelle arrived home about half an hour ago, at which point, she let the babysitter go with a ten dollar bill, and now, she too, is sitting with Maria. They're both munching on cookies.

Maria leaps up, the minute we get home, and bounds towards us. To my surprise, she runs straight at Dylan, who looks as bemused as me. But he picks Maria up anyway. "Where were you?" She pouts, "we were supposed to play My little Ponies, today! I specially booked you to Pearl, and she's my favourite!"

Dylan smiles at her, his green eyes softening. It does something to me, watching him hold my sister and smile at her in that tender way. I don't know what, but the pangs in me, every time Dylan does something sweet is increasing a lot more lately. Not good. Especially considering he's an ex-drugged out gang member, who dislikes me, but tends to make out with me anyway. And, oh yeah, I let him. That's not the kind of guy I want; the kind of guy who's good for me in any way. Plus, I said yes to Danny Hendrew when he asked me to the Winter Homecoming. Why he asked me, I still don't know. But like Ada says, If you get the chance, go forth, before the hot guy leaves you for some bitch- cheerleader, and you're left as an old lady with twenty seven cats and not enough kitty litter...

"Yeah, okay, little M. Let me just...go take a shower. Kay?" Dylan's smooth voice makes my stomach clench. I restrain a gasp, at the feeling, and clear my throat.

"Mom, dad, can I go take a shower, too?" I ask, looking away from them, pretending to scour the nearest wooden shelf next to me. Did I leave my book in there? Please, please...

Aha! Found it. I grin, triumphantly and pick Twelfth Night up, brandishing it in front of my chest like a shield. "So the quicker I go now, the quicker I can read this for English 101.

Mom nods, still looking a bit unnerved. "Yeah, honey, sure. And sorry for taking you out of school like that, too. I got scared." She smiles at me and I smile back.

Dad sighs and winds an arm around mom's waist, looking mockingly remorseful. "I'm sorry, too, baby. I must have scared you both, huh?"

Mom raises her eyebrows at him and cranes her head round. "Yes. You did. And for that, I will punish you most vigorously."

Dad looks into her eyes. "Looking forward to it."

From the TV room, Estelle gags. I laugh, high pitched and turn to the stairs, bounding up them, two at a time. I was careful not to look at Dylan, before, but I hear his low tone, and then he's following me. I reach the hallway and walk casually down it. I'm not feeling casual. Something weird is happening to me, today.

My body feels curvier, more...feminine. And my nerves are extra sensitive, too. I feel cold and then suddenly hot-

"Wait. Celia."

I stop and twirl around to face him, my expression impassive. Under the dimmed lights his golden hair is a darker shade. He steps towards me, like a predator.

"Hmm?" I mutter, looking away. I'm unsure on what to do. I just know that I need to get away from Dylan, now.

"I need to talk to you." He says the word talk oddly. As if that's the last thing on his mind. My back presses firmly against the wall, and then he's inches away from me, our noses almost touching, and I realise that Dylan has a few faint freckles, but other than that, his skin is ivory and smooth, completely, gorgeously, unlined. I want to run my fingers over his cheek.

My hand clenches against the hard wall.

"About what?" I say, trying to hide the husky tones lurking in my voice. "And...um...back off, please?"

Dylan grins. "About the fact that I nearly died today. And that you cared." He pauses, and I swallow a lump forming in my throat. I want to touch Dylan. I need to touch Dylan. ARGH! "Do you want me to tell you why I ran from the school, today?" he fingers one of my black curls, the pad of his thumb just skimming my neck. That sensation alone makes me want to throw my head back and moan. My breath is coming out shallow, breathy.

The back of my mind is screaming something akin to, what if mom or dad come in now?

The rest of me is screaming, TOUCH MEEEEE!

I have officially lost it. But I don't care.

"Dylan-" I breathe softly.

"I ran from school today, because," Dylan continues, leaning in more. I'm pressing myself back against the wall, so much so that I wouldn't be surprised if it had an imprint on it, of my figure the next morning. "Danny Hendrew was telling me all about his new date. How she'd do in bed, and crap. And you know what?" Dylan's hand curls at my waist and lifts my top up smoothly, his finger etching light patterns on my skin. My mind literally explodes.

Dylan continues, "I hated it. Every image of you with him. And if he touches you at the Winter Homecoming, then I will fucking kill him."

His hand trails up higher, skimming my bra. He leans in closer, and then every thought turns white, completely blank, the moment my eyes touch his, emerald, and burning with something.

His lips touch mine, so soft at first. Then harder. And then my mouth opens and his tongue is licking me with little strokes that feel so good, it should be arrested. His hands trace my stomach, and my own flatten against the wall, my nails scratching at the durable paint there.

He lets go of my stomach and winds his arms around my waist, hoisting me up against the wall. My legs twine around his hips and my hands frame his face, my hair falling in dark curls around us.

Then he moves, quick as a flash, and my mind is completely transfixed on him, unknowing, oblivious to where we are, until the feel of soft mattress under my back switches me on. Then he's on top of me, and somehow, his shirt is off, and my hands are tracing his muscles. Scars, he has scars, long and scratchy against my fingertips.

I turn my head to the side, my cheek against the mattress, all the more to feel Dylan's lips against my neck. My eyes slowly shut, as his tongue trails down my throat and then up again. His hands are skimming my hollows and curves. My lips are ready for his again, but he trails lower, his lips brushing against my neck again, my chest, my stomach and lower...

And then he stops.

And so do our moans and groans.

My eyes snap open to see Estelle looking at us. And there are tears in her eyes.

My confusion lasts only moments, before she runs out the room in a frenzy of sobs.