Well, Brooklyn's trying!

Scott picked me up from school that Monday. I asked him specifically if we could go to the hideout. "I want to retest my limits." I whispered. "I think I'm getting through things."

And I had. That afternoon, I couldn't bear to take off any of my clothes, but just about anything we could do fully clothed, I could deal with. The most I could take was when Scott slipped one hand under my shirt, and pulled my strapless bra down, just a tiny bit. It felt a lot better than it had before this had happened, in fact, because it was a sign that I was getting better, and that I wouldn't have to be forever too scared to deny myself (or Scott) what we wanted.

After we made out, we talked for a while. "I'm glad you're getting over things, sweetheart." Scott commented. "I didn't want to say it while you were scared, but not being able to touch you was driving me crazy. I had to keep reminding myself the whole time that you were worth it."

I giggled. "That is possibly the sweetest thing you've ever said to me!"

Before I left, I asked where Heather was, planning to put Operation Matchmaker into action. She was in her room, so I knocked on the door.

"Whoever it is, get lost." I heard Heather's voice snap.

"Um, it's me." I called shyly.

"What, are you calling for new eardrums or something? I told you to get lost!" Heather's voice was full of sarcasm.

"I just wanted to check how you were." I said hesitantly through the door. "Did I do something wrong?"

Finally, Heather gave a sigh. "Fine. Come in if you have to. I guess you being the one knocking isn't so bad...it could be worse."

I slowly pushed the door open. I could instantly see the difference in the girl I'd first met that summer and the girl in front of me. She still had an ice queen look about her, but the look in her eyes made her look like a fallen queen, not ruling. Apart from that, the vibes I felt were icier than ever.

To be honest, I started wondering if what I was doing was worth it. At this rate, it was going to be impossible.

"I'd ask how things are going," I ventured softly, "But I guess I know the answer."

Heather scowled. "What, would you expect me to tell you I'm not okay, even if I'm not? Besides, things are going just fine with me."

"I'm just being nice to you!" I protested. "I've known you for a few months now."

"Just because I don't think you're a total loser doesn't mean we're friends or anything!" Heather shot back. "Let me guess, now that you're all close with Courtney, you wanna try and be my 'gal pal' so we can do all those girly teenage things in chick flicks?"

"No...although now you mention it, that might be fun." I joked, hoping to lighten the mood. "But since you have that thought, why do you not like me?"

"Haven't you learned it yet, Brooklyn?" Heather said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not nice. I don't like anyone. It's nothing personal – it's just me."

"Then...why do you hang out with people if you don't like them?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Heather tossed her hair. "To make me look better. Duh. Do you think I actually like these people?"

I shrugged, but another burning question spilled out of me. "You could do that anywhere, any time. But you chose to live with a street gang. How come? I mean, what if the cops did find you guys?"

Heather started to look a bit worried here. "Well...that's because I...because...why am I even bothering to explain myself to you?" she finally spat. "It's not like I have to. Get lost, okay?"

I knew I was wearing Heather down, and I couldn't stop now. "I heard somewhere that you were really popular in high school. What changed, Heather?"

That seemed to be the key. Heather finally met my eyes. "You really wanna know?" she muttered. "I was about seventeen at the time, maybe eighteen. Just after I finished school – I turned nineteen last summer, when I first joined. Anyway, I was at the beach with my...I guess you could say my friend, her name was Lindsay, when this random guy came up to me and started flirting and all that crap. And for some reason, when I told him to get lost, Lindsay actually gave him my number-"

"I think I know where this is going." I interrupted. I remembered the story – this was the same one Alejandro told me. "And if that's the reason you're here...why didn't you decide to leave once you dumped him?"

Heather scowled, but I could see her weakening. "Because...because...because I miss him, okay?" she burst out. "I've wanted to leave, but every time I start packing, I start thinking and I want nothing more than to beg him to take me back. Then I remember what I saw. I knew you weren't the first, and probably not the last either, but..."

"Why me?" I ventured softly.

Heather chuckled bitterly. "Isn't it obvious? He waited for a chance to get to you. He's never done that before, not that I know of. The only person he ever persisted with was me. And then you come along, and after a failed attempt to get to you, he still waits months! He didn't get the chance the first time – you said so yourself. I thought that when I started living here, he'd stopped. I'm sure he did stop for a while. But then he just takes the first chance to finish what he began? No way could I ever trust him again."

I kept my voice soft. "But he never cared about me. Don't you ever see the differences in him when he's around you?"

But I knew I wasn't going to get any further with Heather yet. She'd admitted to missing Alejandro. That was a start.

I went out with Scott on Thursday, but we only went out and then back to my house, where we were able to get to my room, after a quick "hi" to my parents from both of us. All too soon, Saturday was upon us, and there was no way I was going to miss this.

So we'll see what happens next episode!