A/N: Luckily, I was able to finish what I had to do early (thank god) and was able to update sooner. I apologize for the last few chapters, which have totally sucked ass. Stress +anxiety equals insomnia and crappy writing. Hopefully, this one is better. Thanks for all the reviews and please review this chapter!! Oh, and I've switched back to Wendy's POV, for some reason she's really easy to write. Kisses-Lunagrrl180

It was only 8 hours into what would be a long drive, and I was already on the verge on going insane. Kenny, thankfully, had shut the hell up upon discovering his father's extensive library of Playboys under the seat. It was Kyle who was driving me crazy, maybe it was just his way of dealing with the stress or something, but I swear to God, if he fiddles with the radio, taps his fingers on the steering wheel or starts shaking his left foot one more time, I'll rip my hair out, out of sheer frustration.

I sigh and look out the window. Same boring blue sky. Same fluffy white clouds. Same never ending desert. I pull out my silver cell phone and dial Stan's number again. No answer. I leave what feels like the 50th message, and sigh again. I'm not exactly the most patient person in the world, and the long distance feels like torture.

I slouch in my seat, wondering if my Dad would even notice that I was gone. He's so absentminded and work oriented, I think he forgets that he even has daughters. Shit, I totally forget about Cassie! I sit straight up and pull out my phone, dialing Bebe's number.

"Hello?" Bebe's normally chipper voice sounds groggy and disoriented.

"Bebe, I need you to do a huge favor for me."

"Wendy? Where the fuck are you?"

"Never mind, I'll explain later. I just need you to get Cass and bring her to your house, take care of her for a few days."

"Sure, sure," Bebe sounds distant and absentminded.

"Now!" I feel my voice take on that annoying squeak that always seems to happen if get pissed.

"Fine! God damn, why are you so pissed off?"

I take a deep breath, trying to control my temper, "Sorry. Can you just do it, please?"

"Sure. Bye."

Kyle turns toward me, "What was that about?"

"I just needed someone to take care of Cass for a couple days."

"Shouldn't your Dad…" I shake my head sadly and he changes the subject.

"Do we have any idea where Stan is? I mean, LA is a pretty big city."

I shake my head, "No. We're going to have think creatively. If I was a 17 year old runaway, where would I go?"

"Venice Beach, with all the other homeless people?"

"Yeah, maybe we should check all the homeless shelters in LA; scour Santa Monica Pier, that kind of stuff."

I fall silent, lost for words, filled with anxiety. What if he's hurt or hungry or all alone or sick; his asthma gets worse at this time of year…what if he's, I can't even bring myself to think the word; I suddenly feel faint and my chest tightens. My breath becomes shallow and numbness creeps up from the arches of my feet to the tops of my legs.

I force myself to take deep breaths and calm down. It's just anxiety. I feel tears seeping out the corners of my eyes; I wipe them off with the sleeve of my shirt.

Kyle looks at me with concern, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine," I force a smile; "We should probably stop and grab something to eat before Kenny dies of starvation."

Kyle pulls off the interstate and stops at some random fast food joint. The ground feels unsteady as I walk towards the restaurant; I take a few deep breaths and try to pull myself together. It's gonna be okay, I console myself; we'll figure it out and bring Stan home.