Author's Note: Okay, wow, guys, I am SOOOOOOOOOO sorry it took me so long to get this up. It's been so long. At first, stuff kept coming up, and then I kinda just lost interest, and didn't want to do it, because it would suck if it wasn't done well. I just got a surge of "I wanna watch Higher Ground" today that it was done. Thanks to all my reviewers that I kept in mind while doing this. I hope you like it, and I'll try to get Close Encounters up as soon as I can:D


"So, you and Princess broke up, huh?" I ask Scott. This morning Kat told us why Juliette was crying last night.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" he snaps. Oh, it's a lot to me, hunny.

"Oh, just wondering. She was quite… distraught yesterday," I say, pretending to care.

"Don't care," he says with a shrug. He's reading a book, but seems to be more interested in what I have to say. Sounds good to me. This is definitely an improvement.

"Well, if you're interested, let me know," I say, getting up from the couch facing him. I give him a wink when he looks up from his book. After looking back at the pages he decides to reply.

"Not likely." He'll come around. They always do. The only difference is, I want this one. I really want this one.

"It'll never work," Daisy says as I pass by her, leaving the lodge.

"Sure it will. Watch me work my magic," I say, flexing my fingers, and smiling. I haven't been this happy in ages. Scott's single! Nothing could ruin this for me! Nothing. I will have him this time!


For the past week, it's been an endless succession of me suggestively looking, talking, smiling—anything really—at/to Scott. And every time, he's said no, but it is getting better. At least now I suggest getting together at the end of conversations, so we're actually talking. It's shockingly… nice. I hate that word; it's so overused and has consequently lost all meaning, but it really is nice. I actually have fun talking to him… somehow though, I don't get a feeling of that sentiment being reciprocated. I guess he just puts up with me. Fun. I feel so loved.

Right now, however, a bunch of us are in the lodge, doing homework or just hanging out. There's nothing to do outside, because of this massive thunderstorm going on. Whatever, it all works out for me. Rain can create a somewhat romantic atmosphere. Perfect! God! I hope I'm not pushing it… meh.

Oh! Another thing happened this week, now that I remember. I managed to smuggle some stuff in. I figure Scott can't hold out on me forever. So, I made sure the janitor's shed was left open. I must say, I didn't plan for the rain, but I can deal with this.

As Scott gets up to sharpen his pencil, I walk up to him. Big breath. Breathe. Just breathe.

I lean against the fireplace and look him over. He looks up and doesn't seem too pleased to see me. Shucks.

"How many times do I have to say it?' he asks, exasperated. Oh joy! He's not in a good mood. This is gonna be splendid. Note the sarcasm.

"Maybe till I'm convinced you mean it," I say softly. He looks down and finishes sharpening his pencil then puts that down and starts to walk away. I cut him off. "Hey," I say, getting his attention back.

"You're like a stalker or something, you know that?" he says, frustrated. As if I have that much of an effect on him.

"I only stalk the very best," I reply with a smile and without a hint of faltering.

He turns to look at Ezra. "Why don't you go bother Ezra? He'll be up for it." I look over and see Freidkin trying to woo some random chick.

"Funny how Freidkin's always up for it and you're not, don't you think?" I ask, pointedly I might add. He doesn't budge, so I take it he's not backing down. In which case, I move forward. "I don't know what you're so scared of," I say, inches away.

"Yeah, right," he says, looking straight at me and then averting his eyes.

A smile spreads across my face. "Well, I guess that means I'll see you there then," I say, referring to the janitor's shed at 7:30. It was predetermined and I'd talked to him about it a couple of times. I start moving away and just catch him mumble an "I guess." Well, he may not be too decisive, but he's hot enough to get away with it.

I'm overloaded with joy. This is great! I finally get my chance to prove myself to Scott! After the initial surge of peppy bubbly happiness wears off, I walk smoothly and smugly over to where Juliette is sitting with Daisy.

I lean over on a table, talking to the back of Juliette's head. "Your ex is meeting me in the janitor's shed at 7:30." I then tap the books on the table in a final way and walk off.

Halfway down the hallway to check on the stuff for tonight, the power dies. I shrug. Whatever, it's the janitor's shed, there's no light in there anyway.

When I get to the dorms, I kneel down next to my bed and pull out the cardboard box containing all my contraband. I flip through some of it and check that it's all still there and alright. When I've finally decided that it's fine, I get up, grab a flashlight and head back to the lodge.

As I'm walking down the hall I can hear a lot of people talking quite loudly. It's after dinner, usually there aren't that many people still around the lodge at this time. As I turn the corner into the big room, I almost laugh out loud.

"What the hell is going on?" I ask Daisy as I get nearer our group.

"Well, the dorms are apparently leaking, so we're all sleeping in here," she says, sounding almost bored.

"We are?" I ask, bug-eyed. "All of us?" I pause a minute. "How?"

"Beats me, but good luck finding room. It's totally pack by the fire." I sigh.

"So… we're just gonna sleep on the floor then?" I ask. "Joy."

"Actually, here," she says, handing me a sleeping bag.

"Oh, thanks," I say, grabbing it. Then we all hear Peter boom over the crowd.

"Alright everybody, listen up. It's gonna be tight in here tonight gang; we're gonna do some re-arranging." I roll my eyes. Somehow I don't see this being a good thing. "Okay? Listen up! I'd like to have the Trackers over here by the fireplace, come on. I want the Sun Dogs, I want the Ridgerunners over here by these sleeping bags. I would like to have the Wind-Dancers of there by those…uh… tables. And the Cliffhangers… by the back door. Come on, everybody. Let's move, let's move," he yells over the masses, pointed to different parts of the lodge. Go figure we get the back door though… and since when did Horizon become such a summer camp, with all the group names and all?

I grab my stuff and move over to where the stairs are, by the back door.

"Why do the Trackers get the fireplace? It's twenty below by the door," Ezra whines.

"Yeah, they're always getting the style, huh?" Auggie adds as we all settle down.

"Oh really?" Peter asks, coming up beside Ezra and Auggie. "That right? Well let's think about this; power's out everywhere, there's no heat, I wonder how we're gonna keep warm in here all night." And it clicks.

"Duh, you guys, the Trackers have to keep the fire going all night," I say in a matter of fact tone... as if they hadn't thought of it already, which they haven't, of course.

Peter stands up, saying "Uh, could I have everybody's attention, please. I believe that the Cliffhangers would like to file a complaint." We all start to protest and Auggie stands up to stop him.

"Uh... we're cool right here, right guys?" he says. And we immediately all chip in with "ya, we're fine," and the like. Stupid Peter, always spinning things in ways that make us think we got it best. That bothers me.

Then, it hits me. This actually is so good for me. "By the back door works good for me," I say, getting up, putting my sleeping bag down, and getting my coat.

I run across the span from the lodge to the dorms, under the cover of darkness, ooh spooky. I run to my bed and grab the box. This is going to be so great! I can't wait to see his face. I can't believe how girly and excited I'm getting; this isn't me. He's got me under some kind of weird spell. What is it about him? He's not that great, well, his looks are, but he treats me like shit. I don't get it, why do I persevere? Whatever, in my heart, some how this is all worth it. Wow, excuse me while I go barf.

I run out of the dorm, grabbing a flashlight on the way out, and dash to the janitor's shed. I open the door slowly, savouring the moment, almost, and then go and knock over a chair. Way to go Shelby, super smooth. I look around and smile. This is gonna be good, I can feel it.

I turn the flashlight on, look around and see the table. I put my box down and get to work. First I move the table to the middle of the room, and take the cot that's up against the wall and set it up, testing the springs. Wow, how does it always have to come back to sex? Why do all my encounters with guys come back to this now meaningless act?

I spray perfume around the room, waving it around, spreading the beautiful smell of cinnamon and vanilla. I spread a sheet over the table, lighting two candles in the middle and sprinkling rose petals across it. I finish setting up the rest of the table, picnic style., with a bouquet of flowers in the middle. Then I put more candles all over the room, carefully lighting them.

Time to get to me. I put my hair up, tying it back with little clips, and I put on a gorgeous black silky dress I got for the occasion. Wonderful, this is just perfect. I love how this is exactly what I want. Romance. Something I haven't' had, or even thought of in years.

I hear a knock on the door and in my most sultry voice call out, "Come in." I swing around the shelving unit that I was dressing behind.

The door opens, this is it. I can't wait.

His hood's up. As he turns around, I say, "Think you can handle a little romantic dinner?"

He starts lifting his hood and my heart stops. Oh. Dear. Lord! It's Ezra! I cover my eyes in shock, and then put my hands over my heart.

"Hunny, you shouldn't have," he says in his annoying voice. Damn it! This was supposed to be so special, and now it's all ruined! I feel the tears well up, and I go behind the shelves to change and hide them.

"You should be thanking me," he says. Ya right! As if that's going to happen any time soon. I take my dress off and put on my clothes all the while.

"For ruining everything?" I fire back. Oh man! I'm going to wring Scott's neck! That asshole! As if he told Ezra to come here!

"For saving your butt," he says. As if that's—wait... what? "Peter's looking for you. We're on kitchens." Shit... I guess it worked out a little then. Still, it would've been so great to have Scott be here.

He's going through all my smuggled stuff. I hate him putting his grubby hands all over everything. He holds up a tea bag. "This has caffeine in it," he says, with a look of wonder on his face. As I put my stuff away he turns to me, "Some day you will have to tell me how you acquire all this contraband." Not likely. I snatch it away, quickly and throw it in the box.

"Keep dreaming," I say, my voice filled with the utter disgust I feel now. I'm so embarrassed. Does Scott really hate me that much that he would just stand me up and put Ezra in his place? What does he think I am? Actually!

"Can I at least sniff it?" he asks, pulling me back to reality as my head spins.

"Just keep your body parts away, thank you!" I snap at him, completely frustrated with his continued presence here.

I turn to the candles, blowing them out. "You could leave the stuff, try later," he says, his tone now sympathetic. It cuts deep. It was easier when I could be mad at him.

"Are you mental? He had his chance and he blew it!" I almost yell. All my shame and hurt is turning to anger... this at least is easier to deal with.

"What if you told him?" Ezra asks. That's the last thing on my mind.

"Scott is never going to find out about this," I say, almost laughing at how ridiculous the suggestion is.

"Why? Because it's... nice?" he asks. I really don't want to talk about my feelings now.

"We're not having this conversation."

"It's the same as when you rescued Gracie; you didn't want anyone to know."

"Shut up, Ezra," I say , anger flowing through me.

"If you really don't want this to leak out, bribes are better than threats." I look at him in shock and he has this little smirk on his face. I hate that! But he's right, and I really don't want anyone to know how hard I tried.

I look down at the tea bag in the box and my heart wells up with sadness. All this for nothing, and now Ezra's profiting off it. He points at it, as if I don't know already. I pick it up and toss it at him. He holds it up to his nose and takes a long wiff.

"You can smell caffeine," I say, shaking my head.

"Oh, you are so wrong," he says, a look of intense joy on his face. I roll my eyes, and continue putting stuff away.

"I gotta head back. Thanks for the bribe. Get there fast, or my excuses won't hold you." Before I can ask what they are, he's out of here. I finish packing everything else up, put on my coat, pick up the box, and head back out into the storm. I drop the things off at the dorm, tucking them safely under my bed, before heading back to the kitchens. I hang up my coat outside and grab an apron. Before I open the door and walk in, I take in a deep breath. This is not going to be fun.

I walk up to where Scott's working, slowly but surely, trying to figure out what I'm going to say. "You missed out on a really good time," I say softly, so no one around will hear me.

He looks at me, then at Ezra, then back at me. "Is that why Ezra looks so happy? He took my place," he says, almost laughing at me. He actually thinks I'm a whore. My mind's reeling. What do I say to that. I don't want to let him see how much this is killing me, but I can't just walk away.

"You don't know anything." That's it. That's week. I'm pathetic.

I walk away, and go set up camp alone, at another table. I just can't deal with him anymore. I need something. I can't go on with nothing. This is not possible.

I finish up and go to the bathroom. I sit alone in the stall, just thinking about all the shit going on in my life. I hate how I had to get sent here. I hate how he has so much power over me. I hate everything. Why did everything have to screw up. Why did Walt have to come live with us? Why me? I've asked myself these questions a million times, and they never get answered. Never.

I leave, and head towards the lodge. Might as well just settle in for the night. Maybe I can talk to Daisy.

As I'm just about to walk in, Scott rams into me. Go figure. "Christ, where's the fire cowboy?" I ask, turning around again.

He doesn't say anything, just grabs my arm. I turn around and look at him. What's that supposed to mean? I walk towards him and lean against the wall. Why is he even touching me, let alone coming close to me! I don't understand. This can't be what I think it is, can it? He leans in to kiss me, and it all clicks.

As it gets more intense, one – my mind is reeling, two – I realize we can't keep doing this in the hall.

I push him away softly. "Wait wait," I look over my shoulder, "not here." I take his hand and lead him towards the door. "I have an idea."

We head out and go straight to the boys dorm. We're soaked because of the continuing storm. I take my sweater off to show off a tank top underneath and he takes his shirt off, revealing a white wife beater. Oh god! This is not good for my resolve of having nothing to do with him.

We stand around a little awkwardly for a while. "So... uh, which bed's yours?" I ask, trying to break the ice... again.

"Number four," he said, motioning to the bed nearest us.

We stand around awkwardly for a while, looking around, not at each other. "I guess we could... uh... kick it over there," I mumble slowly.

"I guess," he says with a shrug.

We walk over to the bed and sit down. I see a picture of Scott and some man holding up a trophy, football, I assume. "Who's this?" I ask. Wow, I can't believe I'm here, being able to ask these questions without being shunned or yelled at. This is way too good to be true.

"My dad," he answers.

"You guys look alike." He doesn't say anything, so we sit around for about 30 seconds saying nothing, making me wonder why exactly we're here... why I'm here. This is so shocking, I don't understand this. I've been after him for so long, and suddenly he's here, ready to go. I don't understand why this is suddenly different. What made him change his mind? Shake yourself out of it, Shelby! Enough! Break out of it. Say something. Anything! "You could kiss me." Nice... very intellectual.

It serves its purpose though. He moves closer to me, leans in, and softly kisses me. He pulls away really soon though. I think he's just shy and needs coaxing...

"Actually, you can kiss me more than once." He leans in and we start making out more intensely and continuously. Suddenly my hands are around his neck and in his thick, long, blond hair. I love twirling my fingers in it. He puts his hands around my back and on my legs.

My mind's reeling. This is so surreal. My biggest dream for so long, and it's finally happening.

I think too fast though. He suddenly pulls away and looks down. "What?" I ask. Did I do something wrong? Apparently not, as he's suddenly back to kissing me within seconds, more intensely than before.

Again, he pulls away. He looks down and rubs his hands through his hair. He looks shocked and frustrated and angry. Is this about me? Did I do something? I don't understand.

"What's wrong?" I ask. He's freaking out and doesn't seem to hear me. "Earth to Scott." He doesn't pull back. He's breathing really hard and starting to scare me.

"Get out." He says it so matter-of-factly. So what-are-you-doing-in-my-room tone. I'm shocked, and hurt. He's the one who brought me here! He should be leaving, not me. This is not fair.

"Okay," I say, looking around, and then getting up, frowning, not really understanding what's happening.

I stop and look back at him, as if giving him a final chance. Really, he doesn't deserve this.

"Get out of here! Get out of my head!" he yells. I'm actually starting to get scared he'll get violent. I don't have a clue what's going on, or what he seems to be seeing. Whatever he's on must be kicking in right about now. Man, I'm out of here!

I grab my sweater and head for the door.

I open the door just as he calls out to me. I don't want to hear him say my name like that. It's too hard to push him away. He's going to rope me into his little world, and I'm going to be hurt and abandoned. I don't want this! Why can't he just make up his mind and leave me alone?

"Shelby, please, don't go," he almost begs.

"Scott, you're scaring me," I say pointedly and letting the fear show.

"She's in my head, I can't get her out!" He's almost in tears. Who the hell is this? What's he talking about?

"Who?"

He looks away. This is it. This is why he's here. This is his secret. "Don't go, Shel. I'm scared too." I think I might just cry. He's so pathetic and small. I feel almost motherly love rise up. I want to help, suddenly. I never saw myself playing this role.

I walk toward him, showing him that I'm going to stay. He sighs a sigh of relief. He turns around, and I follow him back into the dorm.

We walk to the bed, and I grab his blanket and roll myself up in it. "So...what was that all about?" I ask slowly, not wanting to pressure him too much, but letting him know he can't get away with just not giving me any explanation for his little schizophrenic freak out there.

"It's my... my step mom, Elaine." Oh SHIT. Of all the guys at Horizon, it had to be him. Of all the problems he could have had, it had to be this one. Why!

"And?" He gets up. He can't do it. He's not going to do it. I can't ask anymore questions. He'll see I know too much. I wait. He looks out the window and starts talking.

"She'd come into my bedroom. Tell me she was scared and stuff."

"How long had she been your step mom?"

"A year."

"And when was like... the first time?"

"A month, maybe two months, after she moved in."

There's something I want to ask him. I don't know how he'll react, but it's now or never really. "Don't get mad, but... uh... this is gonna sound really bad... I kinda thought guys always wanted it." I cringe, waiting for the eventual blow.

"Me too," is all he says.

"I thought this stuff only happened to girls." Girls like me.

"Which makes me even more of a freak." Now that bothers me.

"You're not a freak, Scott. Elaine's the freak. See, this is what I hate. This jacked up thing happens to you, and you think it's your fault," I say with passion. Good going, Shel, nice following your own advice.

"But I never stopped it," he protests.

"Ya, but you tried."

"But I still... you know." Oh shit. That's right. I never even thought about that. Maybe I'll need to take a different approach to this.

"Maybe because it felt good?" I ask. He doesn't say anything. I get up and walk closer to him. "Is she pretty?" I try again.

"She makes me sick," he says with venom in his voice. So, this is what it's like to see true hate.

"Ya, I know now. Think back to when you first saw her. When your dad first brought her home. Was she pretty?"

"I guess." Well, it's progress.

"So, that's why you flipped out. You feel like you fantasizing about her, whatever, makes you guilty. Well, it doesn't, Scott, it doesn't make you guilty."

"She's my dad's wife. He loves her." He's been beating himself up over this for a long time. At least, I've always known that Walt was a bad man and that it wasn't my fault. At least, I've never blamed myself for this and never felt guilty. I have a whole other set of issues about it though.

"She's the one playing mind games, and lying, and making threats. She should be carted off to some psycho ward." I sigh. This is where another question I've had since the beginning now comes into play. "Are you gonna tell these guys here?" I ask, getting it out of the way. He looks at me, suddenly really scared.

"I don't know."

"Well, if you do, they have to report it, you know."

"My dad?" The fear shines through.

"Everyone, your dad, the cops. It's like the law of the school or something. It happened to a girl before. She told in group that her dad was abusing her and they had to report it."

"What happened?"

"He came and took her home." He looks down. He's not gonna tell, I know it. It's gonna come out some day and all hell will break loose, but until then...

"You won't tell, will you?"

"Nah, I won't tell," I say with a small smile.

"Thanks." It's so heartfelt.

"Ya, well, we'll see what you say when you get my bill," I say with a small chuckle. I walk up to him and give him a hug. He squeezes tightly and then softens it. I close my eyes and enjoy the wonderful feeling. As we part he gives me a small, but equally as good, kiss on my lips. "We should probably head back," I suggest after a while.

"Ya, I guess so." We grab our stuff and he takes my hand, leading me back to the lodge. We slip in and duck in under our covers. It's good everyone's asleep. It means we don't' have to deal with Queenie just yet. Tomorrow will be interesting.

Once we're in, we pull up our sleeping bags to cover our faces as we look at each other. Our hands become once again connected. I look at his hand, holding mine. "Good night," I mouth. He smiles, "Good night. Thank you." I close my eyes, and smile. This will be a good night.

The next morning, I wake up and our hands are still together. I smile and a tear comes to my eye. I squeeze it. "Scott," I whisper. Everyone else is just waking up. He blinks.

"Hey, beautiful." I smile, on the verge of tears.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that," I sigh. I lean over and give him a small kiss.

We see Peter coming over and break it off. I roll up my bag as Peter says he needs to see him in his office. I see him go, as Roger comes in and calls out, letting us know there's a soccer game that's gonna start in a minute. As we're all leaving the lodge, he comes and joins up.

"What was that about?" I ask, concerned.

"Oh, nothing," he says waving it off. "Let's go play some soccer." He takes my hand, and I smile.

"Sounds good to me, cowboy," I say with a giant grin on my face.

We go out and start playing. I'm running around, and I get something on my face. He looks up and walks over and brushes a piece of dirt off my face. I'm smiling the biggest smile ever. I just want to run and hug him and kiss him all over. He strokes my face slowly, and softly. I love this feeling.

Wow, I'm genuinely happy. I can't believe it. It all turned out okay. More than okay. Perfect. I guess it was all worth it after all. Life is good now. Life is good.