Sabree POV

The first night back…I think, sitting angrily in the haze of smoke emitting from my dad's and Karen's joints. They're stupid. Thinking they could fool me with their, 'Welcome home, baby, we sure missed you. Things are going to be different now' dinner. Different my ass. If things we're going to be different, they wouldn't be stoned out of their fucking minds right now. I take a deep breath, choking on the amount of weed-smoke clouding the air, thinking back to earlier.

I sat silently, bitterly watching my idiot parents coo back and forth to each other about how great it was to have me home. The salad on my plate remained untouched., I only stabbed at the lettuce leaves to shuffle them around my plate to make it look like I had eaten something. I was brooding. I was in a brooding mood, but you'd be in a brooding mood, to, if you were unfairly pulled from happiness to be sucked back into hell with your drunk excuse for a father.

"Oh, Sabe, it's so nice to have you home!" Karen cooed, a certain cheapness just dripping from her voice. She reaches a bony hand out to caress my arm.

I jerked away, calling her a hussy under my breath. She must have caught it.

Her face fell into fake puppy dog eyes and she glanced at my father. Just watching her made my stomach churn in ways I didn't know was possible. My father shot me a glare, but went on with his dinner.

Something had apparently happened while I was gone, because the apartment was slightly bigger and neater than I remember. I start to think that maybe my dad had gone to work or something big of that sorts, but then I remembered that that was the old Rick. The Rick that actually loved his daughter. The Rick that didn't beat his daughter senseless for no reason.

That charade was over now. Things had turned as I expected them to be, my dad and Karen had doubled over in laughter because the stupid clock ticked. I hate this.

"Sabe, baby, c'mon. What, you're too good to smoke up with your old man now, eh?"My father crawls over to me, puffing on his joint right in my face.

"I'm sorry, "dad", but I can't talk right now. I'm too busy hating you But try again later." I spit, forcing him away from me. He just chuckles and crawls his way back over to me. He puts a hand on me knee, and slides his hand up to my thigh. I haven't had a chance to change yet. But damn, I wish I did. "Get the fuck away from me!" I scream, shoving my foot in his face.

He shakes his head, trapping my wrist in his hand, "C'mon, sweetheart, I just wanna catch up a bit. I haven't seen you in forever." He grins a twisted grin, pulling the joint from his mouth. He inhales until the tip of the joint glows red, and stamps the lit end into my arm.

I wince, biting back howls of pain as he repeats this action, two, three more times.

…

An hour later, and I'm still stuck in the same fucking place, nursing the burn wounds on my arm. Injury count for the night: four. The three wound marks, and a black eye. For once, though, I wasn't the subject of my fathers anger. Drugs does funky shit to people, I'm not going to lie. Tonight, the drugs had chosen to make my parents engage in a fist fight. I'd had tried breaking it up.

My effort resulted in my fathers elbow banging into my eye as he went to take a swing at Karen, and it sent my flying back into the wall. The impact was hard enough to add a nice concussion to that list. I pull myself out of the chair, and tip toe into the bedroom to see if they were still at it. Eventually, they're fight had shifted into their room.

As I expected, they were collapsed on top of each other, empty beer bottles littering the linoleum floor. The both of them combined have enough alcohol in their system to keep them passed out for the next decade. I'm not sticking around for this.

I haven't even been home for a full day, yet I have a full days beating. I slip out of the front door with as little hassle as possible. Yes, I know, I could get caught. Yes, I know my parents could wake up at any second now. But I say fuck it. I'll get the same beating for something else if I don't get it from getting caught leaving my house.

oo

The new apartment is pretty far away from any of the boys' houses and I know I'm bound to get lost again. But it's all worth it to be out for just a few hours. I just wish I was closer to Stacy's house…

I sigh. Really, this is the only place close enough? I take a deep breath and rap on the door.

Jay's POV

"Jay, baby, go see whose at the door!" My mom laughs, carrying around a bottle of booze in her hand. It's a habit of hers to wobble around the apartment in a drunken state.

I shove one hand in my pocket and open the door. On my door step is the last person I expect to see other or anywhere near my house.

"I'm sorry. I don't even know what I'm doing here. It's just. . .this was the only place close enough." Sabree stammers, looking like she had purposely come to the wrong place.

"JB, who's your friend?" My mom asks, setting her chin on my shoulder as she hugs me from behind. She's as extra drunk tonight. Another fight with Donnie means another shot of vodka.

I sit there and look at Sabree for a few minutes, "Sabree," I mutter under my breath, pulling her into our dim lit apartment.

…

The silence was kind of irritating at first, but we got over it. I stare intently as Sabree pulls back her blonde hair to show me her newest battle scar. I wince a bit, "Shit, man." Not even I get that fucked up when I'm messin' around.

She nodded slowly, then pulled up her black sweater sleeve to show me the burn marks. Right over the cut marks. I'd finally convinced Sid to tell me what was up with Sabree. Sid tells me everything, anyways.

It's a good thing I look out for him, I guess. Curiosity got the better of me, but I'm always in other peoples' shit. I look at my mom, who was on her third round for the night. "Mom," I reach out to grab my moms think wrist, "Sabree" I say and my mom goes onto introduce herself.

"Philane Adams." She shakes Sabree's hand then stalks off again. I shake my head.

"Yeah. .she ain't much. But she's all I got."

She shrugs, "At least she tries, dude."

Damn it, she's right. Maybe it's just because I'm stubborn as a fuckin mule, but I hate it when people are right. Especially Sabree. I know it's because we don't get along. I change subject. Talking about my mom is a touchy subject for me sometimes. 'She's crazy, Jay.' Donny's smug face pops into mind. She's only crazy because of you, you bastard.

"So, what's going with you and Peralta?" I ask, and stare at her. Her face goes red. I grin my stupid grin because I know I embarrassed her. Damn I really am a jackass, but whatever. "C'mon, I've seen the way the dude looks at you."

"Fuck you, Adams!" She snaps, trying her best to bite back a smile. "And, if you must know, we always get close to kissing and I freak out or something or somebody interrupts us." She puts an emphasis on 'body' and violently shoves me off my mattress.

"Hey! Be nice to the jackass who's letting you stay here for the night!" I get ready to shove her back and she laughs, climbing off the mattress before I get a chance to retaliate..

"I'm sorry, are we actually having a conversation?" She asks, shielding her face from the pillow I've thrown at her.

I chuckle a bit, "Well fuck me hard and call me Jay, we are. That dumbass Tyler was right. Fuck him, then."

Instead of chucking the pillow at me, like I half expected her to, she tucks it under her chin, wrapping her arms around it, "I hate it when he's right."

"Yeah, tell me about it…the fucker. And, I guess you're okay…" I trail off in a joking manner, and she gasps in fake shock.

"Was that an almost compliment from Jay Adams?"

I smirk, running a hand through my hair, "Yep. Well, it's late and you're kinda beat up so just take my bed for tonight and I sleep on the couch."

"But Jay-" she tries to argue against my offer.

"Hey…shut up before I change my mind."

…

"Foster girl, ya little maggot, get up!" I say, softly placing my foot on her side, giving her a good shake.

She groans, hugging the pillow closer to her chest before she reaches out and strikes me with it. "Fuck off, Adams." She spat, sitting up slowly, shoving me over as she did.

"Jesus you're violent for a chick."

She shrugs my comment off, piling my blankets onto the mattress, "We have to stop at my apartment so I can get changed."

My brows furrow in confusion, "But I thought you wanted to get away from your folks…won't they, you know, catch you or whatever?"

"Nah, they're both piss drunk and they'll probably stay that way for, like, the next week."

"Whatever."

…

Her apartment complex isn't far from mine. It probably just seems that way at two o clock in the morning.

"Stay out here and if I say run, then run." She orders before she pushes the door to her apartment open, the floor boards creaking as she takes her first step in.

With a shrug, I lean against the wall, shoving both hands deep in my pockets. I won't be out here for long, for a chick, she gets ready pretty fast. With Kathy, it's like I gotta wait a fuckin' decade for her to be ready. And when I tell her to hurry up, she throws a bitch fit.

"Okay, so, where we going?" she asks, pulling the hood of her black zip-up jacket over her head, hiding her hands in the pockets.

"Zephyr." She walks in front of me, and I give her a light push.

This is weird, being with Sabree, actually talking to her, not arguing. She has to feel as slightly disturbed as I am. Just a few weeks ago we couldn't bare to be in the same room as each other, but now we're acting like we've been friends for years.

Sabree's POV

"Chicka!" Tony laughs, drawing me into a bear hug with his buff, Mexican arms.

"Tony!" I laugh, mocking him in a way, returning his hug. But my hugs are no match for the likes of Tony Alva. Yeah, I guess I'm pretty damn happy to see the fur ball.

"Stace, do you see what I see?" Tyler gapes. I'm assuming he's gaping at the fact that I, Sabree Thomas, was walking with Jay Adams. Surprise, Surprise. I think looking over at Jay.

"Yeah…she just showed up at my place last night."

They all take turns gawking. I sigh. Okay, maybe this was an odd sight to see, me and Jay walking together, not arguing but I don't think the situation needs this much attention. It's annoying. I pull of the hood of my jacket, and shake my ash blonde hair away from my face to show them my blow to the forehead. Their looks of awe turn to looks of devastation.

Maybe I have a twisted sense of humor, but I love freaking them out like this. At least it gets them to shut up about me and Jay.

"No, no, you guys this one was an accident. See, I was trying to break up this fight between my dad and his girlfriend. He was going to hit her, I tried to stop him but his elbow hit me and sent me flying into the wall. So, it's okay. The concussion is already going away."

Tyler pales a little and I stifle a few chuckles, "Ty, man, I was kidding about the concussion dude." So, I lied it's not like he has to know I really do have a concussion.

He looks pissed off beyond all reason but only for about five seconds. Tyler can't stay mad at me. "Anyway, how'd you get out? Won't your dad know you're gone? Are you okay?" The questions just keep coming and I have to smack him on the arm to get him to shut the hell up.

"Snuck out, no he's drunk enough to be passed out for fuckin' year, and yes I'm okay. Stop worrying! I mean, damn! It's great that you're concerned but, Jesus, just chill, dude!"

He throws his arms above his head. "I give up!" He cries. Good, he knows when to stop before I have to make him. He's a smart kid. Smarter than the foster kids who try to fuck with me.

"Okay so are we going to skate or what?"

…

In all the buzz about me being okay and all that good stuff, Stace and I barley had a chance to talk, which is what I assume we're doing now. The walk is silent, other than my occasional playful bumping into him. He even went so far as to put his arm around my shoulders to pull me closer to him. We walk down to his car.

I pull myself on the hood of his car, but he leans against the bumper, watching as the sun slowly sets. I like being around him as the sun sets. It mellows the mood out, eases the tension for the both of us.

He sighs, putting on that 'Stacy' look of his. It's a good cross between a brood and a pout. Nothing good ever comes from that look, it only shows up when he's really upset by something, i.e. me in this case. "Why didn't you tell me that you cut yourself? More importantly, why would you do something like that to yourself? Do you even realize how stupid that is? Hurting yourself like that?"

I don't answer right away but keep my gaze focused on the gravel in front of me instead. He always gets irritated when I don't answer important questions like this. But, how did he find out? He hasn't even seen my wrist since I started. No bodies told him as far I know.

He folds his arms across his chest and stalks away from his car, a familiar cold fire burning in his perfect baby blue eyes. I look down at my hands neatly folded in my lap and bite my lower lip. If anybody deserved to know what I was doing to myself its Stacy. He should have been the first one I told…

"Stacy!"I jump off his car and jog after him. "Stacy, please, just listen. I'm sorry….I was going to tell you. Just when the time was right."

"There is never going to be a right time to tell me something like that Sabree! You're hurting yourself and I can't do a damn thing about it because I don't even know that you're doing it! I would have thought that I would have been the first person you told…" He trails off, trying his best to remain collected. But the look in his eyes says something else. He's right…he's absolutely right. I'm at a loss for words because there's nothing I can say to make not telling him right. I fold my arms across my chest, and look down at my feet, swallowing a rising lump in my throat. What are you doing?! Say something to him, you stupid bitch! Stacy is great for you so just get over it and say something! The tiny voice, which has a name, I've come to find out, screams, pounding the warning into my brain over and over and over again.

"B-but, how did you find out?" I ask, meekly. Like a question like that matters at this point in time. This whole situation I've gotten myself into spurs emotions that I didn't even know I had in me. But also, sparks some familiar emotions. Emotions of desertion. I've only felt that emotion one other time in my life, when my mother had taken my sister and left me with my father. Emotions of love, I also felt that once. But look how that turned out, the signs of affection replaced by black and blue bruises. Stacy wouldn't do that though. The urge to cry is enough to bring me to my knees by now.

My reason for crying wouldn't exactly be found right away. I'd be crying over being taken back to my dad's, over possibly losing Stacy. Or not losing Stacy, and knowing that he loves me enough to stick by me no matter how badly I fuck up, or how fucked up my father makes me.

It's him who doesn't answer this time. Things have gone from bad to worse with five seconds time. I do lose Stacy, there's no doubt that I deserve to. Stacy Peralta, whose never done anything for his selfish needs, or hurt another person in his life, needs someone who won't hide something like this from him. I don't deserve Stacy Peralta. Not one bit.

Game over. I shake my head, disappointed in myself and stalk away from Stacy. He's done with me, no second chances. Just done. But, as always, he proves me wrong with his next action. He stops, peering into my eyes before he places his hands on either side of my face. I gulp. Normally I'm not aware of how. . .short I am. But in the presence of six foot something Stacy Peralta. . . well, he makes me feel shorter than I really am.

Without hesitation, he kisses me, his lips gentle and warm against mine. The kiss was short. . .but meaningful . He gives me a half smile, laying his forehead against mine.

"Stacy…," I breath, "My life has been a wreck since I was eight year old. I've been let down by pretty much everyone. I'm more fucked up then you know."

He licked his lips, nodding slowly, keeping his hands placed on either side of my face, "I know. I know Sabe. I don't plan to add my name to that list. I care about you, Sabree. A lot. And you are the last person I want to let down."

I don't know what it is about Stacy. I don't know how he can commit himself to be so loyal. But, no matter how he does it, I'm grateful for it.

We kiss one more time. The kiss was long and by no means a kiss by some guy looking to get some. Stacy could never be like that.. It was a sentimental kiss with a lot of meaning behind it. Meaning only Stacy Peralta seemed to know.

When we parted, he wrapped his hands around my own, entwining our fingers, "I don't wanna go back there Stace…" I breathed out, falling into his chest, as I'd done yesterday.

It pained him to say this, but it was practically inevitable, "You have to, Sabree."

It hurt but the truth was the truth. Sometimes the truth just wasn't pretty, that was proven by the fact that the choice to go back was no longer my own. If I had a choice, it would be to stay with Tyler's family, which have in some odd, yet touching, way had become my own, stay here with the boys, who have become my brothers. Jay Adams now included. The thought hadn't settled easily for either of us, after almost a year of sniping at each other but it was another one of those inevitable truths of the world.

"I know…but not yet."

Stacy jumped at this comment, drawing away from me. I wanted nothing more than to make him come back to me, but judging by the expression on his face, he had a rather brilliant idea, "My parents are at some real estate conference in San Diego, so I'm by myself for the rest of the week. Stay with me tonight."

As wonderful as that would be, the way that came out just hadn't sounded right. People, mainly our dumbass friends, would assume the worst. He blushed, shaking his head.

"That came out wrong. Just…stay with me before you have to go back. Nothing's going to happen." He promises me. I believe him. I believe him simply because I know he would never lie to me.

So we left the Zephyr shop without explanation .Our escape was unnoticed and quite ninja-like, if I do say so myself, and I steadied myself in the arms of the boy who never will never ask me to be what he needs, but will let me exist as I am.

Flashbacks of the day played in my mind; he leaned over and kissed me and kissed him back. Then our eyes met and it was like we just knew. So we smiled and kissed again--it was perfect.