A/N: Hey all! Sorry I haven't updated in forever, I wrote this thing for a damn long time, and this is a nice loong chappie! I know I promised drugs, but I realized I need a bit more time for that. Give it one or two chaps...

One look upon the room would suggest that it had been hit by a tornado. Another look would reveal a lean fifteen-year-old sitting in the middle of the whirlwind, sorting through heaps of nonsense in frustration. Scott had two hours to pack and get his procrastinating behind out the door, and it was not going well.

He didn't notice the slim figure that slipped into the open doorway. A smile played on her lips as she watched hin struggle to find God-knows-what underneath the mess that littered the floor. Two fingers carefully picked up and object and held it in front of her body.

"Looking for your jockstrap?"

Scott's head snapped up to find Brianna casually leaning against the doorframe. Shit. He had successfully avoided her for two weeks. But, being the sweet girl she was, Brianna just assumed he was busy. He gave her a small smile and resumed his digging.

"No, I'm looking for a tie. Any tie. Right now, I'd be willing to settle for rainbow stripes. Or a piece of string."

"String? What for?"

"To hang myself."

She dropped the jockstrap and laughed, a light flowing sound that made his fake smile grow into a real one.

"That bad, huh?"

He sat up straight. "No, it's wonderful actually. My dad is off in tight-ass land and my mom is getting married to someone I don't even know. And now I can't find a tie for the stupid wedding, the plane leaves in three hours, I have no clean socks or fancy shoes, and I just spilled all of my shampoo on the bathroom floor. Things are just peachy fucking keen, if I do say so myself."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Brianna shook her head slowly, a giant grin stretched across her tan skin. "Guess we'll just have to fix that then."

She sat down behind Scott and pulled him backwards until his head landed on her lap. Her fingers slid into his blonde spikes and massaged his scalp.

"Wum, wum," she giggled, "Ms. Cleo gonna solve all yo' problems too-day. I see a closet calling me… yo' fatha's closet… in it there be some ties, and some socks, and even some shoes fo' those big feet o' yours."

Scott sighed. "Do I really have to go in there?"

"Boy, Ms. Cleo don't lie!"

"Okay, in a minute." The feel of her fingers in his hair sent tingles down to the base of his spine.

Brianna lost the famous Cleo accent. "Are you scared?"

His eyes met hers. "No."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Okay, maybe a little."

She paused. "Sucks doesn't it?"

Scott's' eyelids drooped. "What?"

"The whole two-family thing."

He thought for a second. "Yeah I guess. It's kinda weird, ya know?"

"Oh, I know."

A loud knock on the door interrupted them. Elaine stood in the doorway, an angry smile on her face.

"Scotty, your father wants to know if you're packed and ready to go."

Scott quickly sat up and started digging again. "Almost."

"Well hurry up, the plane isn't going to wait for you."

And with that, she stomped away. Brianna started folding one of his shirts.

"You should go get those socks."

"Yeah, I'll be right back."

Scott got up and walked down the hallway to the master bedroom. His sock-less feet softly padded over the marbled floor to the walk-in closet that could host a small party. One side was Elaine's and the other was Martin's. Ties hung from nails and nails and nails; great, now he had to choose one?

A look of despair crossed over his features as he stared at candy stripes, palm trees and ugly plaid patterns of cloth.

He jumped when two arms wrapped themselves around his abdomen. One hand reached out to a white silk tie that hung in front of him while the other gently turned him around. Elaine held the tie up to his chest and checked it against his face.

"This one will look nice Scotty. It gives your skin a tan glow."

He took the tie from her and looked to the ground. "Thanks."

Elaine stepped closer to him. Her hands found their way to his hips and her lips met the spot right under his ear.

"Scotty, what did I tell you about that girl?"

Her whisper was soft and seductive, but also scolded him.

"I-I didn't tell her to come, she just-"

Elaine's index finger went up to his lips. "No excuses. You're breaking the rules Scotty. Do I need to teach you another lesson?"

Scott shook his head and stepped back, away from her whispers and groping fingers. She followed him until his back hit the rows of shelves on the wall. Elaine's hands slipped under his shirt and around to his back. They held him hostage as she kissed him softly, nibbling on his lips when they denied her tongue access to his mouth. Scott's head turned to the side.

"I have to go pack."

Elaine's hand ran over to his crotch. "Pack what?"

He stiffened, but her body still pressed him firmly against the wall. "M-my clothes. I have to leave soon."

A giant smile appeared on her face. "Will you miss me?"

Scott didn't know how to answer that question. He wouldn't miss her at all, but if he said that, she would make him regret it.

"Well?"

Her dainty fingers expertly unfastened the button of his jeans.

"Will you?"

"Umm…" He wanted to leave. Right now. "I have to go pack." His voice was barely audible.

Scott flinched when she touched the line of hair under his belly button, but the action failed to deter her from her goal. Elaine's hand slid under the waistband of his boxers to what lay beneath. She smiled wickedly at the look of discomfort on his face. She got on her knees and pulled his boxers down. Her mouth slid over the object of her desire, and her tongue tasted every inch of him.

The back of Scott's head hit the shelf behind him. He had to leave, he didn't want this, but he couldn't stop it. That was a lie. He could, somehow there had to be a way. But he never found it. Why did Elaine keep doing this? Why couldn't she just leave him alone?

All thoughts escaped from his mind when she switched gears. Elaine stroked and pulled, stroked and pulled, until he could barely stand. She swallowed twice and gave him one last peck before getting up and leaving him in the closet, upset and alone.

Brianna glanced up when Scott walked back into his bedroom. There was a smile on his face, but his eyes were sad.

"What's wrong?

He sat down. "Nothing."

"Okay." She didn't like to push people; if he wanted to tell her, he would eventually.

They stuffed his suitcase in silence. Brianna peeked at Scott occasionally to see if she could read anything from his expression. During one fleeting glance, she caught a teardrop falling from his eye to the shirt he had been folding for the past five minutes. She put her hand on top of his to stop him from unfolding the shirt for the third time.

"Scott," another tear fell, "what's going on?"

He didn't respond, just shrugged his shoulders. She had never seen him like this. Granted, she only met him a few weeks ago, but he always appeared to be a happy, well-adjusted kid. Was he upset over his parents? Or was it something else?

Martin appeared in the doorway. "Scott, I have to leave for work. An emergency just came up, so Elaine's going to take you. Alright?"

Scott nodded. His father disappeared, and a few seconds later Brianna heard the front door slam. She immediately felt bad. Scott's father had barely even looked at him, let alone noticed that he was upset.

"I could drive you."

Scott shook his head. "It's okay."

The plane ride was pretty mundane. New Mexico was warm, though not as much as he had expected it to be. His mom picked him up from the airport, the smile on her face a mile wide. He could tell that she was happy just by watching her, how she spoke and the way she stood. She seemed so different, so much younger than when his parents were still married. She didn't seem like his mother at all. Her fiancé, John, a kindly man that did look his age, greeted him with a firm handshake and a pat on the back.

It was dark by the time he arrived in her new home state, and she let him go right to sleep. The house was comfortable, not impersonal and expansive like the new Barringer home. The guest room reminded him of his own a long time ago, a room he missed a great deal. But he couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, Elaine's wicked grin waited to haunt him. Shh, Scotty. Will you miss me? Did you hear me, Scotty? Ooh Scotty, don't stop. Scotty.

Scotty.

Scotty.

Her lips bruised him internally, and her fingers burned holes into his skin. After hours of tossing and turning, Scott found himself searching for the bottle he had hidden in his suitcase. The sleeping pills gleamed in the darkness, small shiny pearls that were just within reach.

It wasn't fair. She had no guilt whatsoever, but he needed pills just to sleep? Hopelessness overwhelmed his tired soul.

It'll be our little secret.

He didn't want to keep secrets. He wanted to tell somebody, some person that could help him. But the fear of rejection kept him silent. The fear that it was his fault, that he deserved it was enough to glue his mouth shut.

He stuffed the pills back into the bottle. He wasn't this weak-not yet.

"Where's the bouquet?"

Two minutes before the start of the wedding, and the room as absolute chaos. Corsets needed tightening, corsages needed pinning, and the ever-important bouquet was missing.

Standing just outside the room, Scott had no idea where to sit. Countless faces milled around, not one of them familiar. He hesitantly walked into the aisle; a moment later a balding usher in a crisp black suit whisked him away to an empty seat next to the groom's grandmother. A little voice in his head told him that he would regret sitting in that seat, but he didn't know where to relocate himself.

The procession started and the entire room became silent. Save for the weeping grandmother that had attached herself to Scott's arm. His mother looked absolutely beautiful. From the flowing gown to the flower-studded veil, she was mystifying. He hadn't seen that smile in years, so honest that it lifted his heart right out of the pit in his stomach that it had settled in.

He watched his mother marry a man he had only met yesterday, and that moment of happiness dissipated. Slowly he looked around. These people, these strangers were her new family. A family that he was not part of. All of a sudden he wished he had not come. He felt so small in this strange life, a world where he did not feel welcome.

He didn't belong here. He stood next to the drinks, alone, as his mother greeted her new nieces and nephews. People surrounded her like she was a giant glowing magnet. New uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters, parents, grandparents and even a great-grandparent congratulated Ms. Boyd. Scott faded into the background, a lone painting against the wall.

"Hey Susan, where's your son?"

Ms. formerly-Barringer-but-now-Boyd looked up at her joyful husband. "I don't know sweetie, I saw him near the refreshment table earlier. Why?"

"I wanted to introduce him to some of my cousins. I thought it might be a bit awkward for him to wander around without knowing anyone."

"I'm sure he's fine. Scott's very social, he'll make some friends in no time."

Scott was not making friends. Unless he counted the grandmother that was still following him around. He sat down on the steps to the reception hall and yanked off his tie.

"Nice tie. It gives your skin a tan glow."

Scott dropped the fabric like he had been burned. He turned in the direction of the voice, praying to any god in the sky that Elaine was not there. Instead, a teenage girl walked out of the shadows.

"Are you Susan's son?"

He nodded. "Yep."

"Cool. She's my new aunt."

Scott nodded again. When he wanted company it wasn't there, but now that he wanted to be alone this girl had to come along. She sat down next to him and flattened the skirt of her sundress. Two perfectly manicured fingernails pulled a cigarette from her purse.

"You smoke?"

He shook his head and looked around the garden in front of him. A gleaming fountain spurted water into the air, where it fell in an array of droplets. The smell of cigarette smoke made him cringe. He took a quick look at the mysterious girl only to find her staring back at him. Her dark, curly hair was pinned back, giving her a more mature appearance.

"You don't talk much huh?"

That was blunt. "I don't really feel like talking."

"Tired?"

"Nope."

"Depressed?"

"Not really."

"Angry?"

"Uh-uh."

"Just boring?"

He gave her a half-hearted grin. "I guess so."

"You play sports or something?"

"Football."

"Yeah, it shows. Is that why you don't smoke?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"No. But most teens do smoke."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Is that so?"

"Yep!" She smiled innocently.

"Are you trying to get me to smoke?"

"No, not all." She paused. "Is it working?"

He laughed. "No. For a dealer, you're pretty unconvincing."

Her mouth gaped open in mock surprise. "Who says I deal?"

"Why else would you be trying to get me to smoke? You wanna get rid of your stash before the cops bust you?"

"Well you see," she put her chin in her hand, "it just so happens that there's a party tonight, but I doubt you'll have any real fun if you sit sober all night."

There was a beetle crawling on his hand. "I dunno. I don't think I'll be much company."

"But you're already company. You can't just be company and then not be company, can ya?"

"What?" She made absolutely no sense.

Mystery girl stood up and grabbed his hand. "C'mon, we're going to have some fun." She dragged him to a standing position.

"But I don't even know your name, how can I trust you?"

She gestured dramatically. "What's in a name? A rose called by any other name would still smell as sweet."

Her outburst was met with arched eyebrows.

"So I'm a little rusty on my Shakespeare. Come on!"

Scott woke up in a dark room, tangled in someone's arms. Where the hell was he? His mind recalled the blurry events of the night before.

The party was insanely loud. Mystery girl handed him a drink and sat down next to him.

"Don't worry, it's just a coke, nothing special like me."

She held up her martini glass before taking a large gulp. She flipped her long, chocolate brown hair back and gave him her best Cheshire-cat grin. He smiled uneasily and sipped his coke. It tasted funny, like it had been watered down with something.

"Did you put something in this?"

"Did you want me to put something in it?"

"Why would I want you to put something in it?"

"Why would you want me to put something in it?"

Exasperated, he sat back and took another sip. This girl was driving him insane. She answered every question with another one.

The party was a little scary. Truth be told, Scott was usually too busy with sports, the odd job here and there and school to stay at parties for longer than two hours. And ever since his friend Andrew was killed by a drunk driver a few years back, Scott never stepped in a car with an intoxicated person. There were people all over each other, mystery girl was drunk, so he would be the one driving back. And he didn't even have a permit yet. This was going to be tons of fun.

Before he knew it, Scott had finished off his drink. The buzz didn't hit him until a few minutes later. The room was unnaturally bright, then really dark, then bright again. Someone must have turned a disco light on. Wow, that's kinda cool.

Mystery girl sauntered over towards him. Hey, her hair's red, not brown. Wow, that's cool.

"Ready to check out the house?"

"O…k."

He stumbled after her. The stairs had to be too tall to meet regulation. She turned into a room on the right… or was it left? He held out his index finger and thumb on both hands, but neither looked like an 'L'.

Scott sat down on the bed. This was a weird house. All of the walls were painted in waves of red, orange, purple and blue. The colors were overwhelming.

Mystery girl with the red-not-brown hair sat on his lap. "So Susan's son, what's your name?"

She didn't know his name yet? "Scott."

"So Scotty boy, you having fun?"

The skank's nickname made him cringe. "I guess."

"Wanna have some more fun?"

She pushed him back onto the bed. Her face twisted and distorted on front of glassy eyes. She softly kissed Scott on the lips and giggled.

"I lied."

He was slipping away. "About what?"

"I don't even know who the hell Susan is. I just stopped by for some cake."

Then everything went black.

So whaddaya think? please review!