A/N: Thank you for the reviews and feedback. I don't know what it is with this story but it is still a bit of a struggle. It's like I'm wrestling with it. Alley Cat Shepard, I see your point involving the POV, it might have been a cop out to go from 3rd person to 1st, and switching them at that, but the damage is done. I guess I'll go back to 3rd person, just because it's the right thing to do. And please everyone keep reviewing and letting me know what you think-suggestions are very welcome.
Craig just looked at her, eyes red and puffy from crying, her hair in blond strings around her face.
"Paige, hey," he said, stepping toward her. But she backed away, wiped at the tears with the back of her hand.
"No, you don't have to be nice to me," she said, a slur at the edges of her words, "I shouldn't have come here-"
"It's okay," he said, going toward her slowly. She leaned against the door she had locked, looked at him with a half scared, half defiant expression.
"It's not okay, nothing's okay," she said so softly that he had to lean in closer to hear her.
"What? What's wrong?" Craig said.
"This alcohol. Damn it. I'll drink some one time and I get all happy, forget all the shit. But then sometimes I'll drink it and feel all…shitty…like this…" She was crying again and Craig just stared at her, wide-eyed.
"Yeah, but what's wrong?" he said again, wanting to move closer to her but sort of afraid to.
"Nothing! Nothing's wrong, nothing at all! I kissed my friend's boyfriend, practically molested him, I cheated on my boyfriend…and there will be consequences. There always are, for girls. After all, we're the ones who get pregnant, who get…pushed around or, or taken advantage of," She was getting a second wind, glaring at him, ready to push off the door and attack him again.
"Who's Dean?" he said.
"Oh fuck Dean, that Bardell bastard," and she came at him, punched his chest with weak little punches. He held her wrists easily, felt a little like he was in some silly soap opera.
"What did Dean do, huh?" he said.
"Nothing. What did your father do?" she spat back at him, and he winced.
"Fine, Paige. But you brought him up, I'd never even heard of the guy, and you're obviously upset. Maybe you should deal with your issues,"
"Oh we all have issues. Who the hell deals with them? No one, that's who. Instead of telling Ashley you loved her, you sent her a dozen roses. So how come you couldn't just tell her you loved her? Huh?"
Craig backed up from her, sat in the chair, legs stretched out in front of him. His whole Ashley/Manny thing flashed in his mind, his inability to tell Ashley how he felt, and it was all tied up with his dead parents and abandonment issues, trust issues. He licked his lips, hung his head. This wasn't the night he'd envisioned. He'd planned on hanging out with Ashley, maybe playing music, maybe fooling around a little. Nice. Instead he was getting yelled at and lectured to by Paige Micalchuk.
"And I don't care if you tell Spinner I was here, either. He doesn't own me. No one owns me-"
"I won't tell him," Craig said, his words slow and tired.
"Good," she said, pushing her hair out of her face, and Craig saw just how red and drunk her eyes looked.