Sorry for the wait! I've got a few chapters for you!

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Pogue's POV

It was dark out, so I couldn't really get a look at the house that well. All I could see was a few dusty lights on the porch and furniture that was clearly made out of wood. We were somewhere south, just off of Manchester, CT, and by the looks of things, it was quiet and country-like. Not at all My Rachel.

She parked in the dark spot next to a huge tree and turned off the car not moving. I turned to look at her, but her eyes stuck to the wheel.

"Rach, what's wrong?" I asked, reading the troubled expression all too well. She shook her head at me, so I put my hand on her shoulder, "Rach..."

She fiddled with fray coming off her denim skirt, "It's just... well... my place... it's just..." I frowned at her, and she sighed, "My place is a little old, and a bit of a shithole to be honest, since I've been trying to kick dad out for years. It's a little embarrassing."

I looked over my shoulder to the dark house and then at her with playful eyes, "Rach, I don't care what your house looks like. It's gotta be better than my shoebox. C'mon, I want a tour..." I pecked her cheek and opened the door, climbing out. The night air was so clean and warm out here, and I heard gravel crunching under my feet.

She laughed as I lightly nudged her with my shoulder. She fumbled with the keys opening the door and letting me in. A light flicked on and I blinked, letting the room fall into view.

Most of the furniture looked like a cross between the federal furniture style and Early American. It was very homey, the walls a pale yellow crossing with light browns. There was a couch before a fireplace, a wide screen above that and loads of plants hanging from the walls and ceilings.

I felt smaller hands against my back and realized Rachel was pushing me lightly towards the hall. I turned my head slightly and yelped, almost tredding on her feet.

"Ah!"

"Sorry!" I gasped, eyeing the large moose head against the wall.

"Oh, that. I call him Manfred. Dad's a gamer, but he goes far away usually. Brings these things all the way from friggin' Québec and stuff."

"Gamer…" I swallowed at the thought of a male version of Rachel… "say, he doesn't keep his rifles in the house, does he?"

She frowned at me and then smirked, "Only on weeknights."

She showed me to her room, which was much the same as the rest of the house. Her walls were yellow and brown, fading from the years. She had a rather large bed, I couldn't place if it was a single or double, but it was against the right corner, a desk behind it with a CD player and a wardrobe and shelf on the other side. There was a window directly ahead, and stuck towards the outside with books on the ledge.

Rachel grinned, piling her stuff on her bed, "Just put your stuff anywhere."

I put it to the side and gazed around at her room, looking at pictures, taking a while to notice they were photographs. They were in colour, sepia and black and white.

I looked down as Rachel's head leaned against my shoulder suddenly, her arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, hugging her close, "You tired?"

She sighed, "Nah… just thinking. Dad comes home in a little, and I just hope that he's prepared."

I frowned down at her, "You didn't tell him you were bringing someone?"

"Or that that someone was my boyfriend? Nope." She chuckled, kissing me, standing on her tippy toes and then letting herself fall down to normal size again, "He's gonna kill me."

I rolled my eyes and went to sit on her bed, tugging on her arm so that she fell forwards onto me in a crawling stance.

I bent my head, letting my lips trail over her neck and up to her jaw line, "You are insane, Rach, you know that?"

She giggled, crawling up so that she was straddling my lap, hands on the wall behind me, "I don't care…"

She kissed me big time, her lips moving harshly against mine. Her fingers tangled in my hair while she placed a knee between my legs. I gasped, pulling back, "Rach!"

"What?" She dropped her hands and I pushed myself up, not noticing that I had been sliding down.

"Your dad's gonna be home in a minute."

"And-?!" She went to narrow her eyes but there was a huge bang at the front of the house. She jumped off me, fixing up her blue denim skirt and white blouse and then going to the door. She looked back at me, finger pressed to her lips and then slipped out the door.

I got up, leaning against her bedroom door frame, listening…

"Dad, hey." Rachel's voice didn't seem surprised, or excited; hell, it didn't even sound happy. I could picture her now, one leg bent, arms folded tightly across her chest and glaring. The pose she took when uncomfortable or judging something… the look she had given me the first night we hung out at Nicky's. She'd sprayed Caleb with a drink and then admitted she wanted to screw. I smiled at the thought; I loved it when she blurted her thoughts.

"You're back, I see. Haven't trashed the house already, I hope, because you know exactly whose ass will be cleaning it up if you have." The bitter tone in her dad's voice was not at all welcoming. My palms suddenly started to sweat. I was exactly right; a male version of Rachel… being in the same house with both probably wasn't the funnest thing I could think of right now. I was playing with fire, the little Caleb-Like angel on my shoulder telling me to get the hose, and then the little Devil-Reid reminding me about the pack of matches in one of my pockets. (Metaphors… all metaphors guys ;) ) This was going to be way harder than I thought… speaking of; did this place have a fire extinguisher? Just in case?

"Jesus, I've been in the house for five minutes!" Rachel spat, "Oh and what's this I see? You got fired again?! You're completely hopeless!" there was a sound that I guessed was paper being thrown.

"Don't even start with me, Rachel."

"Oh and dad, I forgot to tell you, my boyfriend's staying with us for the holidays." There was heavy sarcasm in that sentence and I cringed as Rachel and her father's relationship started to set into my skin and bones.

"Your boyfriend? Not another band kid, is he? You seem to just screw around with those ones. Not like you'll ever find someone that will put up with your lazy ass anyways."

"God damn it, he goes to Spencer, Dad! He's not a stupid band boy and I don't screw around with every boy I meet. For once just admit that you're jealous of my relationships. Oh and I don't see how you can complain, since mom was the one who took off in the first place."

"Must we argue about this again?! It was her fault… now when is this boy arriving?"

"He's already here, Dad." Every time she addressed him, it sounded like she was being smartass back to a teacher that asked to be called "Sir" or "Miss".

"Is he?" His voice was low and rumbling, and I didn't notice that my face had gone cold.

"Pogue, c'mere. Dad wants to meet you."

I swallowed and rounded the corner, walking to Rachel's side. If I thought her dad's voice was intimidating, I was sure shocking myself with his appearance. He was very tall, muscular arms and large hands. He had dark eyes and dark hair pulled tightly back into a pony tail, stubble on his upper lip and a scar obviously poking out from the collar of his shirt all the way up his neck.

He eyed me for a moment and then looked back at Rachel, "Doesn't look like your type. Thought you'd bring home a footballer to protect you?"

She rolled her eyes and I cleared my throat, "I'm no footballer, Sir. I'm actually on one of the best swim teams in my area."

His eyes flicked to me quickly, "Is that so?" His eyebrows rose and he looked at Rachel again, "Swim team? That's pathetic, Rachel. Tell me when you grow up." He went to turn but Rachel yelled.

"He's better than you'll ever be! I didn't even want to come back this summer!"

"Good! I don't want you!"

"Fine! I'll move!"

"The sooner the better." He smirked and it made my stomach knot.

Rachel made an irritated growl before whirling and storming to her room. I followed quickly shutting her door behind me and leaning against it. She stood with her arms folded and looking to the window. She sniffed, but I couldn't say that she was crying, "I can't move… There's nowhere else to go if I did, and the thought makes me feel sick. He's right; I am pathetic and need to grow up. Jesus," She kicked her wardrobe and sat on her bed.

I bit my lip and then sat next to her, sliding my arm around her waist, "Don't be stupid. You're not pathetic and you don't need to grow up. Your father just has issues."

"Eleven years of issues."

I stroked a few red strands of hair away from her pale face, "Tell me."

Rachel sighed and told me her story. When she was seven her mom and dad fought, her mom running away and father chasing her mom with Rach in the back seat. She was hit by another car and killed; ever since her dad has blamed and abused her, and she hadn't quite been the sweet daughter back either.

I bit my lip, kissing her forehead, "That's harsh. I know what you went through."

"What happened to your parent's?" She frowned at me.

I swallowed and ran my fingers through my hair, curling over and resting an elbow on my knee, my other arm around Rachel.

She ran her fingers through my hair this time, "Sorry, you don't have to talk about it."

"No… It's okay. It's just sort of… Well, my parent's are dead. My dad was a warlock and uh, well he killed mom."

"What?!" She gasped.

"It was by accident." I said quietly, "He got a few depression problems and finally couldn't stand it. He killed himself."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, um…" She stuttered, curling her arm around my neck and pressing her head against mine, "aren't we just the happy couple?"

I chuckled, "We gotta get over it. Thing's look up in a week's time."

"That's right." She smiled, "A week. Wonder what we're gonna do for a whole week." She whispered.

"RACHEL!" We both jumped as her father yelled.

"What the hell does he want now?!" She spat, getting up and storming out of the room. I waited for a moment before her dad appeared at her door, Rachel appearing behind him shortly after, her hair fuzzing.

"Dad!"

"You. Out!" He pointed down the hall. I jumped up quickly, raising my hands in surrender.

"Dad, stop it! He's-"

"You're not sleeping in the same room with Rachel while you're under my roof-"

"Yes sir."

"DAD!"

"Get your stuff, boy! Move!"

"Yes, yes sir." I grabbed up my things as quick as I could, holding them to my chest and breaking out into the hall. Her dad threw open a door into what I saw was a guest room and then slid into there.

"DAD, STOP!"

Her dad whirled on her, holding up a finger, "I want a talk with you, Rachel. In the kitchen, now."

She gave me a pleading and apologising look before her dad grabbed her arm and 

pushed her down the hall.

I sat there for the longest time, just sitting there before the door opened a bit and Rachel poked her head in. She smiled and slid in, "Dads out for a smoke, but I think I'm gunna go sleep."

I walked up to her, leaning down and crushing my lips over hers. She curled her arms around my neck, pulling me closer and I didn't complain. I grabbed her around the waist and raised her just off the ground.

When she pulled away I let her down again, "I'll see you in the morning?"

"You will." She smiled, poking my nose, "Oh, and don't let my dad get to you."

"I won't, good night." I kissed her again before letting her out of my arms and back into the hall.

Rachel's POV –Monday-

I woke up in an uncomfortable position, my bra digging into my ribs and my feet icy cold. I rolled over and looked at my clock; 11:11 AM.

Perfect.

I got up sluggishly and opened my window and sighed in delight. Bright, hot, sticky summer sun shun through onto my face; I could feel the skin sells all rising to the surface frantically, protecting me from sunburn. "Hah! Summer, here we come." I grinned.

I got dressed in a silky yellow dress, put my hair in messy plats that reached my hips. I'd not noticed how long my frizzed red hair had gotten.

I spotted my phone doing a vibrating dance on the end of my bed, signalling that I'd missed a message.

I pressed a button so it was on loud speaker as I cleaned out my room and put my clothes away.

"Message received at; two twenty one." The annoying voice told me before there was a beep and a high, bubbly and very familiar voice broke through the speaker.

"Rachybuuuug! Hey, it's Alex, though I know you'd have to be totally high or have a hangover to not realise that. Hmm, okay so its two twenty and my brothers and I just finished watching another episode of Friends. Shut up! Don't laugh, I can see that smile and the annoying... rolling of the eyes thing you're doing now." I snorted as she had explained exactly what I had just done. I folded up some jeans and put them in a draw as the message continued, "So uh, I'm still not tired, and I'm missing you already. I'm gunna call Leah when I'm done, but I thought you might have been up. Guess I was wrong... not the first time. I guess you're no vampire or anything. Damn it... hold on-"I turned to the phone, "...To call back, press-"

I slammed my finger to the next message. I laughed when Alex cursed, "Damn, they make these things so short! Oh, hi, I'm back... So I was just sitting here, looking through a few old emails I saved from last summer, and realized how much I've missed you hanging out here and going to your place. So I was thinking that everyone's coming up on what? Sunday? I might come up on Friday, if that's okay? Or even better! You can come and pick me up on Friday, if you want to, and we can 

go back to your place. Scott misses you, Rach, and he wants his Proclaimers CD back... He's a dork, I know." She said the words at the exact same time that I mouthed them to myself. That was another awesome thing with Alex and I, we not only almost attached at the hip (we could be stitched, taking out the thread like some freaky Nightmare Before Christmas creature and then sow us together again afterwards) but we were telepathically connected. Others complained about it sometimes, like when we gave each other side looks and then started laughing, knowing exactly what we were on about, while the others glared and tried to get us to pay up.

We were crazy like that.

Alex sighed into the speaker, "So uh, I guess I'll let you go, but promise you'll call me later today... today? Yeah, it's two, today. Later today. Love you, Rachybug! Byyeee! Oh... James blows kisses," I could see her, two in the morning, sitting on her or her brother's bed, rolling her eyes as he or they, pulled faces at her. "See you."

And it went dead.

There was a strange, stinging silence after that message.

"You have no other messages..." The voice was about to say, but I cut it off just before it reached the second vowel.

I opened the door very quietly to the hall, peeking down it. If I was lucky, dad was still keeping up old habits of sleeping until lunchtime. I tippy toed to the guest room, knocking lightly and then peeking in there too.

Pogue was on his stomach, bare back facing me, the sheets twisted –what looked painfully tight- around his waist.

I grinned to myself, shutting the door softly and sitting next to the sleeping boy. He looked four years old, with his eyes closed and breathing shifting his body up and down. Peaceful and immature. Was that possible, for someone to be immature while he slept?

I stroked back his hair to that it rested behind his ear. I never liked it when he did that, but half of his face was pressed against the mattress, and I craved to see at least something that wasn't his back.

I slid to the floor so that I was on my knees and folded my arms on the mattress as I watched him. I wouldn't ever like someone to watch me while I slept, though I knew that had already happened plenty of times before.

Alex and Leah would complain about me sleeping, but I reminded them that I'd always said "I die when I sleep."

I was like a log in Alex's opinion, not as creative I had to admit, but probably more accurate.

Though, the years of refusing to sleep in the bed of an electric eel had ended finally when we got into Spencer.

Alex would twitch like crazy, making me have to count sheep that eventually turned into ducks which turned into snakes which turned into hot boys in jeans with no shirts... Sometimes it paid off to have the whole night to exercise your mind and creativity.

Pogue's eyes opened lazily as I laughed quietly to myself. I bit my lip and stroked 

his hair again, "Sorry, did I wake you?"

He grinned and took my chin, "Does it look like I care?"

I smirked and pecked his lips, "What do you want to do today, guessing that you would like to get out of the house?"

He propped himself up on his elbow, "I don't care... Anything you want to do."

I narrowed my eyes but couldn't help but smile, "You're not much in the caring mood are you?"

"Nope." He grinned lazily.

I sighed, "Well, we can go into town and get some things. Get lunch..." I mumbled off into my thoughts, "Get lai-"I bit down hard on my lip. I was really going to have to work on these stupid, perverted thoughts slipping out of my lips.

Pogue was laughing at me, his expression making me blush. He pet my head and sat up, "All it good time, Rach..."

I rocked back on my knees, "Who said you were the one to decide when and where?"

"Me, wherever I want you, whenever I want you."

I folded my arms, raising an eyebrow, "I thought you always wanted me?"

"I always do," He smirked, leaning forwards, "But what would your father think of me if I wrapped you in a blanket, threw you over my shoulder and ran off into the woods with you?" His playful smirk faded and he sat back, "He already hates me."

I rolled my eyes, getting annoyed at the bipolar conversations we seemed to keep having. "He hates everyone. It's what comes natural. Now if you don't get up and get dressed, then I'll be the one to wrap you up and kidnap you."

He chuckled and stood up, I was thankful –only so that I didn't get distracted and trying to get into town would have taken a lot longer than planned– that he was wearing boxers. He got dressed in jeans and a flannel that stayed open, making me not be able to snap out of my smiling fit. Leah would have had a fit.

I pulled out my phone and took a snap before he turned around and cocked an eyebrow. I bit my lip and tapped my phone on the side of my jaw, my arm around my stomach, "Just for memories." He rolled his eyes and I sent the photo to Leah with a message saying: Buy the boys more of these shirts... some are bound to get ripped off their bodies sooner or later.

I wondered into the living room, Pogue following me quietly. He curled his arms around my waist and murmured in my ear, "Is he up?"

I paused and listened, then a slow smile came across my face and I whispered back, "No."

Then a few things happened in that moment that made adrenalin pulse through my veins and the smile freeze permanently on my cheeks. There was a bang from down the hall and my dad's aggravated yell. "RACHEL?!"

I jumped and then giggled when Pogue jerked his eyebrows, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the door. We jumped over the coffee table and over the couch, my dad suddenly on my heels. I was almost out the door when I leaned back in, tipping over 

a chair and closing the screen door on his out-stretched hand.

He yelled and I laughed, jumping down the stairs.

"Take the Cadillac Eldorado Fleetwood!" I yelled, pointing to the second hand, old black car next to mine. I knew dad's keys were already in the ignition, and I knew that I was going to be in deep shit from now until I was thirty five, but right now, I didn't care.

Pogue seemed to care less than I, that we were running from my dad who would blow up the house in about three seconds and that he was stealing his car.

He reversed maniacally, kicking up a load of dirt and up onto the porch. I slapped his shoulder in approval and yelled in excitement. I put a CD in and blasted it as Pogue sped the car down the drive and onto the long road.

He yelled out like boys do when they're in super drive. I was laughing maniacally now, and I put my feet up on the dashboard. I was glad that I'd shoved money and my phone into a very small side bag. I ripped it off and threw it over my shoulder, into the back seat.

"I never knew you were into the whole running away thing. You should have told me earlier, it would have made things so much more interesting."

I shrugged, "Getting in trouble doesn't fuss me anymore." I then smirked, "Well we have a whole week to practise so..."

He chuckled, "Where to Rachybug?"

"To the end of the world!" I sang and pointed, then blushed and lowered my hand, "Uh... to town. That'd be good."

Once again he was in fits of laughter.