Hey guys! I know you're probably as surprised as i am. I'm still here i promise. I just got really distracted and i cant blame it on anything but myself. i feel like i've let my readers down.

i'll finish this story! whenever that may be. i don't have a set plan for this, but i will. i will find it and i will write it out.

if you're still with me and my lack of updates, review! i miss you all so!

Mitchie's only been horribly hungover twice, the first time was when her friends got into her parents liquor cabinet when they were 14 and again at her sweet sixteen having one too many champagne glasses because the DJ didn't play her set list. Mitchie socially drank, only having a few glasses of champagne and mimosas at brunch with her girlfriends. She believed any kind of liquor had too many calories and she didn't like the shitty feeling of a hang over.

So when she woke up tangled in someone else's sheets with her shirt half undone and her shorts unbuttoned, her head pounded too hard for her to react like she wanted. Her mouth felt like she sucked on sandpaper and made it completely impossible to swallow any kind of saliva, her eyes were almost glued shut, and her stomach felt as if she pigged out on junk food.

Her head snapped way too quickly when she heard the loud snore come from the floor, she grabbed her head and her stomach was quick to react. She saw the bathroom door opened and she rushed over.

Mitchie's head disappeared inside the white porcelain toilet as she puked her guts out, her body shook with every gag she managed. Her body froze when a helpful hand reached for all of her hair and another soothing her back.

"It helps if you stick your fingers down your throat, it'll stop the dry heaving."

Her head popped out and she looked behind her, their eyes met, soon she began to glare at him.

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Stop being a brat and do it." He sternly said.

Mitchie rolled her eyes and groaned as her stomach began to burn and the same burning returned to her throat, she put two fingers in and whatever venom she had resting in her stomach came out in seconds. The only thought in her mind wasn't even if she looked attractive or if it was lady like, she was determined to stop feeling shitty. This is the first time shes ever been this hungover and she never wanted to go through this again.

"I'm never drinking again." She said as she wiped off her mouth.

Shane laughed and sat leaning against his cabinets, he watched her lean against the wall below the toilet paper roll, and rubbed her temples. Her top rising with her arms he saw her toned stomach.

"I'm Mitchie, but you can call me the rich spoiled brat," she extended her hand.

"I'm Shane, but you can call me the giant." He said shaking it.

She laughed softy, almost a melody to his ears, he couldn't help but join her. their laughter subsided, she opened her eyes and she almost caught herself checking him out.

"Thanks for sneaking me in and crashing, I don't even know what happened at the end of last night."

"No problem, there was probably a fight and cops were called. Stupid shit like that always fucks up his parties."

"I see. I've never had to run from the cops, I never been in a vineyard."

"You are such a city girl." Shane said as he shook his head playfully.

"And you're such a country guy."

"No, I am not. Far from it. I'm a city guy, I don't use the term ma'am or sir on a regular basis and I don't grow my cows."

Mitchie laughed hard, then grabbed her head, "ow fuck my life."

"Ever been hungover?"

"Not this bad."

"It only gets easier; I take it you don't drink?"

"are you not a frequent drinker?" Shane found himself almost word vomiting these questions not knowing where he got the sudden interest to find out more about this girl.

"Why are you suddenly interested in little ol' me? Weren't you just glaring at me like a day ago?"

"That's before I saw you helplessly put your head in my toilet trying to regain life."

Mitchie rolled her eyes expertly; there was no need for her to feel ashamed she was putting her head in the yucky thing. She sighed as she shrugged her shoulders.

"I better sneak you out of here," Shane said as he got up and offered her a hand.

Mitchie looked at it before she nodded her head herself, "im sorry if I risked you getting into any trouble."

"I do it all the time." Shane said with a smirk. And Mitchie knew he wasn't kidding. Something in the pit of her stomach didn't sit well, but she swallowed the dry lump and shook it off as her sickness to drinking her weight in liquor.

Shane offered Mitchie some sweats and a hoodie so she didn't have to be stuck wearing the same outfit as the night before, Mitchie muttered a soft thank you and changed in his bathroom.

Shane was laying back on his bed, with his phone over his face kind of mimicking the Lion King when his bathroom door swung open. Mitchie rolled up his sweats so they hung loose low on her hips and tied a hair tie around the hoodie so it wouldn't look so baggie, her face fresh with a quick wash and her hair tussled around.

When they met eyes, Shane's phone slipped through his hands and hit him square in the eye, "oomf, fucking shit."

Mitchie laughed loudly, "fucking idiot."

"Ha ha, fuck off."

Mitchie smirked at him as her shoulders slumped and placed her hand over her stomach that soon rumbled.

"We can grab a quick bite to eat if you'd like?" Shane asked.

"No thank you. I just want to get home and shower."

Shane didn't let his face fall with disappointment as he nodded his head and took his keys in his hands. He looked back at her and put a finger to his lips, signaling to stay quiet. She nodded as she followed his every step, literally. Whenever his right foot moved forward she moved hers, whenever his left foot moved forward so did hers and this went on till they made it to the front door. Nick was in his boxers, walking from the kitchen to the living room when he spotted them, his eyes grew the size of planets and he hurried them out.

"Mom's making her way out of the kitchen; go now before you get caught, again."

There was that sickening feeling in the pit of Mitchie's stomach and she was not having it.

"Thanks bro."

"Better you than me."

Shane snickered as he opened the door and Mitchie swiftly made it out and Shane followed, hearing his mothers faint voice asking where he was going.

"Don't worry about it, I walk out without telling them where I'm heading all the time." Shane said with his hand on her lower back, opening the door for her to get in.

"Don't you hate when they ask you so many questions about your life?" She asked as soon as he got in and started the truck.

"Sometimes but I mean, hey, they are my parents they have a right to know. And just in case something bad happens to me they'll know where to look first."

Mitchie bit on her bottom lip as she sat in his truck that she vaguely remembers being in last night. She gave him the first few directions on how to get to her house and she noticed quickly that they were listening to Bon Iver. Mitchie looked over to Shane and squinted her eyes as he sang softly with his melodically voice. She would have never pegged him as a fan.

"Aren't your parents going to wonder why a guy is rolling up dropping you off?'

"They aren't home, they're never home, at least that's how it feels like."

Shane nodded his head, silently feeling pity for the girl, but the feeling quickly left as soon as she opened her mouth, "I don't care though, I get whatever I want because they feel like they're neglecting me, that's why I wonder why they even ask about my life when they don't really even care."

"They do care."

"No they really don't, if they cared they wouldn't have dragged me to buttcrack nowhere."

"This place is not that bad."

"It's filthy and so middle class."

Shane rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on his wheel, his veins were popping out more than normal, trying to regain some control of his anger but it was like every other word was pushing Shane's patience.

The decent girl he thought existed in his room was long gone and his first assumption of the spoiled rotten brat has come back.

They turned on the familiar road he drove when he was taking his peaceful drive, when he first saw her in leather.

"Get to know a town before you judge it." Shane said sharply.

Mitchie looked at him and his face read pissed, but she had no clue why he was so angry if she was speaking the truth,

"It's not judging, its true facts."

He drove up her drive way and broke sharply, tugging at their seat belts, "get out."

Mitchie glared at the attitude he was giving her when she grabbed her things and slammed the door shut, she waved in a snotty way and saw him pull out, and she did everything to pray for it to be the last time she'd ever have to spend more than a few seconds with the dim witted air head son of bitch.