It's a toss up who looks more exhausted today, Sadie or me. I haven't slept in a few days, but I'm hitting that high that you get when adrenaline takes over in place of lack of sleep. Sadie, she looks like she hasn't slept for months, even though I found her collapsed on the couch this morning with the phone still propped up next to her ear. She still has on her jeans and tank top from the day before, and I wonder who she was calling who was that important. I think on that as I make the two of us breakfast, and finally decide that it was probably Kwest, like it usually is recently.

She ambles into the Kitchen, and mutters a "thank you", placing her hand briefly on my shoulder as she takes her plate, and cup of coffee that I have made just the way she likes it. It's a small gesture, but I realize that I now can't deny how much like real sisters we have become.

"Late night, Jude?"

I laugh to myself. She knows that I have not been sleeping, but has had the grace not to mention it to Mom, who has been recently keeping a very sharp eye on me.

"You could say that."

She looks up at me, eyes bagged. She looks more like a wreck than I do, and she's been getting her rest. "You need your sleep, Jude."

I shrug slightly at her, and try, in vain, to convince her that I am fine. She doesn't buy it.

"Jude. This is getting ridiculous. Go to bed now. I'll clean the Kitchen."

For once, I am grateful for that stupid lunch date I have set with Ryan for later. "Can't. I've got a date in two hours."

Her eyes light up with excitement, as if she is the one who has the date. "That's great. Is he cute?"

I don't feel the butterflies that I am supposed to feel in my stomach thinking about a new guy. And I know that I'm being unfair. There's nothing wrong with Ryan. His only crime is not being—well, not being Tommy. "He's okay."

Sadie nods, all traces of excitement gone. Damn that girl for being able to read into what I really mean. I thought that stopped when Tommy left. "Well, you go get ready. I can do your hair, if you like."

"It's fine. Thanks."

I hear the pounding of my shoes up the stairs as if they aren't mine at all. I'm not awake, but then, I haven't been awake for three months. I haven't been me for three months. And all I want to do is to start living again.

It doesn't take all that much preparation for me to get ready, not like you'd expect from a nearly 18 year old teenager getting ready for a date. I settle on the second outfit that I try on—a pair of ripped jeans, and v-neck silky green tank top that ties just below the chest. Make-up? Unneeded. Hair? I don't feel like it, and so I just comb it out and leave it. Shoes? Black flip flops. No need to be uncomfortable for a date you don't really want to go on anyway. Well, take that back. I'd love to go on a date—just not with him.

I don't feel like going back downstairs, and so I just turn on the TV, and watch old episodes of Full House. I hate this show, but since I was twelve, it has become a tradition when I am upset to retreat to a confined space with Full House and Ben and Jerry's. Somehow, it's comfortable.

Half an hour passes, then forty- five minutes. Then one hour, then One hour and twenty. At one hour and forty five, I concede to myself that it is probably time to leave and turn off the TV. There is a knocking at the front door, and I figure, with a sigh, that it's probably Ryan. I wait for Sadie to call me down, and when she doesn't, I begin to amble down the front stairs.

I smell his cologne first. How long has it been that I've dreamed of lying against his chest and breathing in that scent again? And then I see the leather jacket, and the white Tee shirt underneath. And then the eyes. Tommy. And not the knock off version, but the real thing this time.

He's here.

What the hell?

Oh, my, God.

I don't know what to say, do, or think, when he flashes that knowing smile at me, and whispers "Hey girl" in that husky voice that has been haunting me for three months, but even more so in the past three days.

All I know is that I can't take it. He's screwing with my strength here. And in my sleep deprived, slightly hung over mind, there's nothing to do but make a break for my bedroom.