Life throws curveballs at you. You may think you have everything planned out, but sometimes the universe, or whoever the fuck is running the show sees you and says "Fuck you" before deciding to remind you they're in the driver's seat of your destiny- not you. Given Molly's realism, or at least that's what she considered it to be, she should have seen it coming. She should have known never to prepare too far into the future and thinking that you'll know exactly how your life will turn out is a huge mistake.

She had planned, or at least hoped, that after graduating college and getting her job, she would save up enough money for a nice house (because as much as she loved Sandra, living with her was a nightmare) and enjoy life as a newly debt-free, single young millennial. Her parents had married young- straight out of college- and while their marriage was solid, Molly didn't want to rush in to have a family so fast. If it happened, it happened, but she wanted to wait until she was ready and met a nice, hopefully, good-looking guy.

Her parents had pressured her for grandchildren for years, always inquiring every time she visited or called if she was dating anyone, and the answer was always the same. A big fat no. She had tried to appease them before and it ended in one disastrous relationship after another. One ex-boyfriend used to dirty talk to her in Klingon during an intense love-making session in bed, another became convinced he would be the next Eminem, changed his name to Biggie G, and rapped about how hard his life was 'on the streets' even though he lived in the upper-crusts of Savannah. Don't even get her started about the kleptomaniac and the ex that got his dog to lick peanut butter out of his asshole for internet infamy. Molly simply noted that she had terrible taste and should never date again; her parents agreed at the point it was probably for the best, too. During her two-year stay in Atlanta, she was doing pretty good, too.

Then, Nick came along.

Nick encompassed everything in a man she avoided like the plague back in Savannah. He was shy, had some pretty noticeable self-esteem issues, completely average, almost homely looking, and wore a mullet far past their prime. All her exes were loud, obnoxious, too confident in themselves, and didn't look like a reject Trailer Park Boy. They were more of your typical frat boy, which would make sense because this was back in her early college days. Most of the guys she meant were from the university in town. It was odd to think that four years ago, back in Savannah, if she had seen Nick on the street, she would've waited until he was out of view and mocked him to her sister. God, he even wore camo pants in August. Who does that?

Hot damn did he look good in them, though.

Molly had found herself attracted to him the moment he ripped her toenail off because he was too distracted by fucking Ghostbusters juice pouches. The man had some good taste when it came to shitty, unhealthy junk food. Spongebob Mac and Cheese? Sign her the fuck up! On a serious note, it was his personality that really drew her in. He was like a puppy: awkward in his body, desperate for love and attention, had a bit of a temper but his bark was far bigger than his non-existent bite and even shared the same large, sad eyes her old dog Biscuit had. He was adorable. And hot, or at least she considered him hot, he wasn't exactly Sandra's idea of a dream guy- Channing Tatum and Ryan Reynolds were.

Nick was unconventionally attractive- definitely an acquired taste. It was sort of like wine tasting, you know? Some people are into Chardonnay, others are into pinot noir, and she had discovered the overlooked, cheap, boxed wine at the liquor store for four bucks. It may have been looked down by snobs, but she had found gold and she had it- him- all to herself. His broad, hunched shoulders that were far too big for his lanky body, his long, bowed legs, his slightly crooked nose, and mullet were absolutely perfect to her. Actually, he was probably the only guy who looked good in a mullet.

After the success of their first date (even though she was nearly an hour late for it), Molly couldn't help but hope that the weekend at the cabin could lead to something more. Much more. Like 'kissing stuff,' as Hilda used to refer to it as during her middle school years. Maybe, if she was lucky, there would be lots and lots of 'kissing stuff.'

Perhaps, she was rushing things. They hadn't even had a first kiss yet and this weekend would only mark their second date, but Molly really, really liked Nick. As long as there was protection, and no dirty talking in Klingon, she would have no problem with getting down with him.' They were close to thirty years old, they could have some 'fun' before bed. They just didn't need to get caught by his uncle or any of the kids or she could kiss that approval goodbye. Molly wasn't keen on fishing- she got awful seasickness- but if it meant Pete would like her than it would be worth it. She got some motion sickness patches for super cheap at CVS, among other things, so hopefully, they worked.

She looked at the nearly packed travel bag on her bed and cupped her chin with a frown. Humming in annoyance, she wondered what else she possibly needed to bring for the fishing trip. She had clothes, pajamas, toiletries, one of those bucket fishing hats she got real cheap at Walmart, a thong…

One of those things was not like the others.

Yeah, so she brought some panties with her, so what? If they were going to fuck, Molly at least wanted to get them both in the mood for it. She was too broke to get any lingerie at Victoria's Secrets but knowing Nick, he probably wouldn't care. She also brought a pack of condoms just in case Nick didn't have any on him because she was not popping out a kid right now. People don't think too kindly of pregnant EMT's and she wanted to wait until she was settled before being thrown into parenthood. She hadn't taken birth control in years; her period wasn't too awful and the last time she had sex was years ago, so she was extra paranoid about any 'accidents'. If things worked well, and hopefully they did, she would stop at her doctor's as soon as she got back from this trip and pick up a prescription.

The slamming of the front door signals Sandra's home. It doesn't take long for the redhead to stagger into Molly's bedroom- reeking of coffee beans and stale pastries- and strip down to boy shorts and a tank top before plopping on her bed. She barely landing on her travel bag.

"How was work?" Molly asked, her eyes never leaving her luggage.

Sandra groaned and covered her eyes with her arm. "Awful! It was awful and I hate that place!"

"You used to love working there, though." Molly grabbed sunscreen off the counter and threw it into the bag. "What happened?"

"Fucking Unicorn Frappuccino is what happened, that's what," Sandra snapped, sitting up with a cry. "I tell you, ever since corporate dished out that shitty drink, everyone has been getting one. And I mean everyone." She blew some of her curls out of her face and huffed. "It's not even good! It tastes like the sour, hard candy my grandma gets from the dollar store! There were, like, twenty people ordering it today and I wanted to cry because it's so hard to make and it's so stressful and I hate my life."

"That's rough," the blonde replied, not really paying attention to her friend. Did she pack the motion sickness patches? Oh, it would be bad if she didn't.

"I have glitter in my hair!"

"That sucks, dude."

Sandra, who had been showing off strands of her hair, groaned again when Molly clearly showed disinterest and flopped back on the bed. "Ugh, why even bother telling you this when you clearly don't care!"

"Sandra, I do care," Molly sighed. "I'm just super-stressed right now with this trip tomorrow."

"How can you be stressed? You're so lucky! First, you go to Disney World, and now you're fishing with your man! I'm so jealous of you!"

The other girl rolled her eyes. "I told you that my parents have year long passes down there and they would've paid for you. You just decided not to go, so that's not my problem."

"I had to work!" Sandra cried. "Shut up, you don't have a job!"

"Uh, hello? Starting work at the local hospital next week? Did you forget about that?" Molly retorted. "You can complain all you want about your Unicorn Frappuccinos, but I gotta, like, deliver babies and do CPR and see dead people every day."

"Hey, maybe you'll deliver your own baby in nine months if your sexy vacation goes well."

Molly chucked her pillow at the other but missed. "Shut up!" She cried as Sandra cackled. "Knock on wood right now! I can't afford to have a kid right now!"

"Oh," Sandra said, cupping her face and putting a leg in the air with a smirk. "So, you have been thinking of doing it with him, huh?"

"Stop!"

"You know, it'll be the two of you in the cabin at night… A cabin secluded in the woods… Molly, it's like the beginning of a porno!"

"Or a bad horror movie-"

"I like the porno better."

Molly scowled. "I don't think any of this concerns you, so keep out of my non-existent sex life."

"Non-existent for how long?" Sandra asked and began to search through her bag. "Come on, when you come back knocked up, this will definitely concern me. I haven't babysat in years! Clementine's, like, thirteen now."

"You are not babysitting my non-existent child!" Molly tried to push her roommate away, but Sandra wouldn't budge. "Hey, I just packed everything! We're going fishing, that's it!"

"What, you afraid Uncle Pete is going to catch you in the middle of some passionate lovemaking?" Sandra pulled out a bra and threw it onto the bed rail.

She crossed her arms. "I can't let Pete catch that, Jesus Christ," she snapped. "I got to make a good impression," she continued, grabbing the bra. "We are just fishing."

"Who cares what Uncle Pete thinks?" Sandra replied. "The only thing that matters is what dear ol' Ma and Pa Randall think of you."

"You don't understand, Pete is the only family he has left," Molly frowned. "His mom died last year from cancer and his dad was an abusive piece of shit." She sighed. "His opinion means everything."

"Oh," her face fell. "Well, in that case, don't try to fuck it up, then." Sandra pulled her pajamas out before gasping. Her green eyes widened comically as she dangled her thong, her mouth in an o shape. "Oh my God." she stammered as a huge, goofy grin formed. "Oh my God, you thirsty bitch!"

"Fuck off," Molly said, yanking the panties out of the other's hands.

"You guys are totally going to fuck, oh my God!" She cackled and Molly thought she sounded like the Wicked Witch of the West. "What else do we have in here?"

"Stop-"

Sandra gasped and dug further into the travel bag. "Condoms!" She bit her lip and fought back another laugh. "This is just getting better and better!"

"Better safe than sorry as they say…" Molly groaned, rubbing her temple. There was absolutely no point in lying anymore.

"You might want to get bigger condoms if Nick doesn't have any."

"Why?"

"What, you never heard of the saying?"

"What saying?" Molly asked, glaring.

'The taller the man the bigger the-"

Molly chucked another pillow at her, and this time, she didn't miss.

"You know, wanting to go to a Civil War museum was the last thing I expected you to be doing with your free time."

"Are you complaining?"

"Hell no."

Clementine made her way over to one of several glass cabinets containing old muskets and bayonets. Tracing her finger over the information plaque on the wall, she matched up each gun with a model. It had been her idea to go to the Atlanta Cyclorama and Civil War Museum today. Most normal teenagers probably had better things to do than spend precious hours of their summer vacation in an old museum full of old artifacts of a war that ended before their great-great-great grandparents were born, but Clementine was not part of the norm. The last time she had been in a museum, she couldn't even look around the place because of Rebecca's labour, walkers, and the state of her fractured group, which was a shame because Lee would've loved Parker's Run. Hell, he loved this place. He definitely took Carley here for a date, that dork.

Being in a place like this made her feel closer to Lee and Omid as well. Now, she could truly understand their passion for the subject. When Omid used to tell her about it before, promising to educate both her and the baby, she had no idea what he was talking about. Sadly for him, it never happened, but at least now she had the opportunity to learn.

Her dad came up next to her and joined in on examining the nearly two-hundred-year-old guns. He put a hand to his chin, his brows furrowing, and grunted. "Imagine having to carry around one of those things, huh? I can't imagine how heavy they were- especially for kids not much older than you."

"I wouldn't be worried about the weight," Clementine said. "You get used to it after a while. I'd more worried about the recoil and the reload time." She grimaced as Ed's brows raised. Why did she say that? What normal kid in the suburbs knows about firearms?

"Damn, when did you become a gun expert?" the older man asked, impressed. "They teach you this in school?"

She rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah, we learned about this in American history last year." Clementine's eyes narrowed after saying that. As far as she knew, she had woken up here a few weeks ago. She had no recollection of anything before that except for the apocalypse and had no education past first grade. How did she know about seventh-grade history and how come it made sense to her? Now that she mentioned it…

Clementine wandered over to a small, pocket-sized portrait of Abraham Lincoln and frowned.

Who killed Abraham Lincoln? John Wilkes Booth, an actor with Confederate sympathies.

She didn't know that a month ago.

Which president came after Abraham Lincoln? Andrew Johnson.

She definitely didn't know that last month.

What was the period after the Civil War when the country, more specifically the South was rebuilding? The Reconstruction Period, which lasted until the mid-1870's.

The KKK, also known as the Ku Klux Klan, was a terrorist organization started by bitter Confederates after the Civil War to terrorize newly freed slaves and white graders don't learn these things. She could barely remember her time in school before the apocalypse broke out, but she definitely didn't remember learning about the rise of the KKK. They definitely don't teach eight-year-olds about the KKK. Clementine's eyes widened and she took a shuddered breath. How the fuck did she know that? That was almost straight out of a textbook; it probably was from one, and that's what scared Clementine even more. When was the last time she read a school issued textbook? Most of the ones she got in first grade were full of watered down stories of George Washington and brief snippets of children's literature such as Winnie the Pooh and Frog and Toad. This was from an older child's book- most likely middle school and up.

Ed can sense his daughter's distress and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Clem, you all good, kiddo?" he asks, his eyes will full of concern. "Is this too much for you? We can leave if you want…"

"The battle of Gettysburg was fought in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania from July 1st to 3rd, 1863," Clementine murmured. "Over 45,000 men died when General Lee attempted to invade the North through Pennsylvania."

"Hey, good job!" Ed beamed while patting her back. "You're smart as a whip, you know that? Of course, you are your momma's daughter!"

"How did I know that?" She looked at her hands in disbelief.

He shrugged. "I assume it's all the money I've been paying for you to have a decent education having something to do with it." He gave her a thumbs up. "You're a smart girl, Clementine. Don't underestimate yourself, you hear me?"

Clementine looked up at him with a frown. "Yeah, dad…"

Last month she didn't have any education past first grade and now she knew the most of the major battles of the Civil War and the periods that came after. This wasn't her underestimating herself; anyone would be concerned if they were her. She was street smart- not book smart.

Everything was getting weirder and weirder and Clementine wanted to get off this wild ride.

Eddie and Wyatt's apartment was a mess. They were too cheap to buy a new couch and instead, dumpster dived to find an old, tattered love seat. "One man's garbage is another's treasure or some shit like that," they said after Jane found an old condom that was definitely not their's in the cushions. She had to take a full shower after that and contemplated scrubbing her hands in acid. Gross.

The original owner of the place was some little old lady who had lived there since the early 60's with her husband. She had lived alone after her husband's death for years, but one day, when she hadn't answered the phone in a few weeks, her son living out of state got concerned enough to call the police. When they broke in, they found her bloated, decayed corpse on her couch; the worse thing was her cat had been left without food, starving and was in the middle of eating her when the police came in. Eddie and Wyatt loved telling this story to scare the shit out of their friends while they were high, making them believe her ghost was still wandering the halls of their home to this day. They still kept a lot of her old furniture like her fridge, the bed which was now Eddie's, the ugly ass 70's wallpaper, and the television. It was kind of unsettling.

Jane was broke as fuck, so she could sort of understand if they were desperate, but they weren't. Why keep this dead lady's shit when you got at least enough money to renovate? Damn, go to Walmart or something.

She would've sat on the floor, but was too afraid there were mites or worse, so she sat on the nasty ass sex couch. Eddie and Wyatt were coming out of the kitchen with some 'special' brownies. They couldn't cook for shit; most of the time they ate out after Wyatt nearly burnt the place down, but they knew how to bake weed brownies. Eddie can barely keep his hands off of them as Wyatt puts the tray down on the coffee table.

"Alright, eat up. It's my Mama's recipe-"

"Wyatt, you literally got the recipe from the fucking Betty Crocker box, shut the fuck up." Jane grabbed the first brownie much to Eddie's dismay and took a bite. "It's good."

"Why thank you," Wyatt replied with a grin as Eddie grabbed three.

"Shit, I fucking love your brownies, dude."

"Don't eat too much, Eddie. You don't want a bad trip," Jane said as she took another bite.

"Shit, sorry."

Wyatt plopped down next to her on the couch. "So," he began as he went to town on his own weed filled treat, "you got fired, huh?"

"Look, I don't want to go into it anymore," Jane replied. "Can you get me the job at Spencer's or not?"

Eddie nodded. "We can totally get you a position," he said with his mouth full of food. "Our manager is always sleeping in the back; that dude doesn't give a fuck about anything."

"You're lucky." Jane leaned back and prepared for the drug to kick in. "My manager was always up my ass about the dumbest shit. He was corporate's bitch."

"Nah, our manager just tries to get into our edibles and sleeps. It's nice- we're basically in charge, so we can do whatever we want. It's awesome."

She smirked. "We can all be managers together, then."

"You know, it's probably for the best you were fired," Wyatt said, stopping himself when the others both glared at him. "No, no, I mean… losing your job sucks, yeah-"

"I won't be able to afford groceries this week-"

"No, what I mean, this is totally better for you!" the blond continued. "We got AC and no one gives a fuck! It's great!"

"No one's going to blackmail me to have sex with them, right?" Jane mumbled, sure that the two wouldn't hear her.

They did.

Stoners must have super hearing or something.

Eddie dropped his brownie on his plate, his jaw nearly hitting the floor while Wyatt's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?" Wyatt asked. "Blackmail sex, what the fuck?"

Jane exhaled slowly and ran a hand through her hair. Shit, she didn't want them to know. Why had she opened her stupid fucking mouth? "I didn't want to tell you guys, alright," she began.

"Holy shit, were you blackmailed?" Eddie gasped.

"Jane, what the fuck happened?"

"My assistant manager Troy gave me an offer, okay?" she snapped. "He told me if I slept with him, he would give me a promotion because I really, really needed the money." Jane turned her head after saying that and looked over at the ugly brown, floral wallpaper. She didn't want to see their faces. "I did it. I'm not proud of it, but I did it."

"Jesus…"

"A few weeks later, I asked him about it- the promotion. Troy wouldn't give it to me. He told me if I didn't continue having sex with him, he would tell my manager and get me fired, would make sure I never get hired anywhere in this county, and ruin my reputation at school." She bit her lip. "I was scared-"

Wyatt put a hand on her shoulder, but she pushed him away. "You could have told us, Jane. Jesus Christ, this isn't your fault."

"I didn't want you guys to worry about it. I thought I had everything under control-"

"You didn't, though." Eddie crossed his arms and scowled. "He assaulted you, Jane. That's, like, super illegal."

Wyatt nodded in agreement. "You need to go to the police."

"I thought I could, but I don't know now if they would believe me. I have a record, and you know how they get about people with records," Jane replied.

"He sexually assaulted you multiple times," Wyatt stated and she cringed. "You need to go to the police. If it makes you feel better, we'll go with you."

Jane held her head in her hands. "What do I do?" she asked. "They're not going to believe me, anyway."

"I'm just going off all the episodes of Law and Order I've binged last month, but you need to get evidence of coercion," Eddie began. "Like, go through your texts and find as much as you can of him threatening you because they can't say shit if you have proof." He folded his hands. "I'm not an expert on this, though."

"No, you're right!" Wyatt cried. "For once, you're actually right!" He turned to the younger girl. "Does he text you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Perfect! You got a goldmine of evidence!"

Eddie bolted up and slowly got into a fighting pose, his legs shook; it seemed like he was channeling Bruce Lee- if Bruce Lee had one too many. He attempted to kick but tripped over his feet. Clearly, the weed was kicking in. "You can get us to kick his ass, too! We'll do it!"

"Yeah, we'll drive there after he's done his shift and rough him up! He'll never see it coming. Nobody fucks with us!"

"He's ex-military." Jane rolled her eyes. "If anything, he'd kick your ass. No offense, but you guys are way out of shape."

"Not true!" Wyatt put a hand on his chest and pouted. "We're, like, Adonis."

"You guys live off of Monster and Mountain Dew."

Eddie shrugged. "Yeah, dude, she's got us there."

"I don't need you guys breathing down my neck." She stood up and held one arm protectively. "Listen, I appreciate all of the help and advice, but I'm not seventeen anymore."

"We only want to help," Wyatt frowned. "We care about you."

"I know, I know, but I don't want you all worked up about me, okay? I can handle this on my own."

"You don't have to do this alone, you know?" Eddie objected. "There are people who care about you."

"I'm sick of people fighting my battles for me-"

"Jane, this is serious shit. You need support-"

She slammed her fist on the wall. "You don't think I don't fucking know that?" she cried. "All I want is for him to go away! I never want to hear about him or see him again! He keeps texting me and asking me out and buying me flowers and I can't take it!"

"He bought you flowers?"

"I think he got me fired so I could 'have more time for him," she replied. "At least, that's what he texted me."

"Okay, that is straight up Criminal Minds shit."

Wyatt stood up and threw his hands up. "Uh, stalker alert! You need a restraining order on him, pronto!"

"That's creepy," Eddie stammered. "He's creepy."

"I don't even feel comfortable going in my apartment anymore," Jane said. "Every time I unlock the damn place, I'm afraid he'll just be standing there or break in while I'm sleeping."

"Why don't you live with us, then?" Wyatt asked. "If you don't feel safe alone, maybe it would be best if you lived with people around you just in case something happened. Cause, like, if he broke in, we could kick his ass."

"I'm not putting you guys through that-"

Eddie grinned like the buffoon he was. "Besides, we can have it be a sleepover and hang out like how was in the good old days!"

"Oh, and we can paint each other's toenails and gossip about Jason Blades while we read Tiger Beat." Jane scoffed. "Seriously, it's a nice offer, but you guys don't need to be worrying about me anymore. I'm sure I can handle this-"

"You won't have to pay for rent…"

She paused and pursed her lips. "I won't have to pay for rent?"

"No," Wyatt said. "You can save up your money for after you graduate. You think we'd seriously let you pay rent after you got fired?"

Jane tapped the wall with her fingernails, contemplating for a moment. "Well, shit," she murmured, "you guys got me there."

"So, you're moving in with us?" Eddie began to grow excited.

"Yeah, sure, what's the worst that can happen?"

A/N: I want friends like Eddie and Wyatt, honestly. Stoners with hearts of gold and actually pretty good advice, all things considered. Clementine is probably pumped about her first trip to a public pool in years! Pool water is, like, made up of human urine, but I doubt she would care much when she used to roll around in walker guts.

Molly wants to get frisky with Nick at the cabin, but I think she's forgetting Duck, Gabe, and Kenny are going to be there as well. Sandra is the ultimate wingman, though. Also, while Eddie and Wyatt's offer is extremely generous, will Jane want to live with two disgusting, lazy stoners?

Carlos is going to be introduced next chapter and he's just as over protective as before, so good luck not killing Clem. Never mind, she might want to murder an extremely familiar Russian pool boy instead. You can put your new found, unexpected education to use and bore him to death with knowledge of the Battle of Gettysburg.