Oh my gosh I love you guys so much for reviewing and favoriting! You were so sweet, I stayed up past midnight last night just writing for you guys.

Just a little something to keep yourselves entertained during that gigantic snow storm of '11 for us Michiganers, and a ton of other stuff across the country. Stay inside, keep toasty, and enjoy your vacations from school with a little Sonny With A Chance!

Enjoy :)….

Chad.

Boxers.

Cute.

Awkward.

Really cute.

Really Awkward.

Maybe hot.

Maybe most embarrassing moment of my life.

Maybe sexy.

Maybe I should stop talking to myself.

But I couldn't. The endless reel of commentary was nauseating, and it wouldn't finalize. Chad stood before me, abs defined around his torso, blond hair swooped around his face carelessly, but beautifully, and if I didn't know any better I'd compare him to a Greek god.

"I…was…Chad, I…I'm sorry…it's just…" I threw up words past my loose, inoperable lips. As I stared at him, wide-eyed, and suddenly dumb-founded, I failed to recall how to speak English. Not just my cheeks washed with red, but so did my arms, my chest, my shaking knees…pretty much any possible place on my body. I wondered if I should turn and run, but then I figured I probably couldn't.

"Well, are you gonna turn away while I finish changing?" Chad joked, plucking his shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head.

I turned my head, knowing words had escaped my breath. I would never, ever speak again. At least for now, it didn't seem possible.

I don't know why I did, but for some reason beyond my control, I couldn't keep myself from looking back up at him. Just to see him finish dressing.

"Are you mad at me?"

I shook my head, blankly watching the wall of the tent move against the wind outside. My burning cheek was cooled by the surface of my pillow, and I was just two feet from Chad, only I lay in the opposite direction.

The truth was, I was mad at myself. Why did I have to go running through those woods just because I heard a stupid coyote? Now my life was ruined.

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

"There's nothing to say."

Chad sighed, and I heard him move around to get into a more comfortable position inside his sleeping bag. "Guess not. G'night, Sonny."

I listened to the howling wind, and that lonely coyote yip at the moon. A shiver prickled down my back and I curled my toes deeper into the thick fabric of the sleeping bag. I kneaded them in and out and hugged my arms to my chest, but it was no use. I was freezing.

"Chad?"

"Yes?"

"You don't hate me, right?"

"Why would I hate you?"

"For what I did today."

"Come here."

"What?"

"You're shivering. Come here."

I tossed off my sleeping bag, and without thinking, crawled in next to Chad in his sleeping bag. The smell stung my eyes, because it reminded me of Dad. Before his death, this was his, and every night when we were camping when I was a little kid, he'd tuck me in his arms and let me sleep in his sleeping bag when I'd have nightmares sleeping in my own. Finally he just got rid of my sleeping bag, because I believed it was full of bad dreams.

"I could never hate you, Sonny," Chad whispered.

The tears that escaped my eyes couldn't be helped. The memory of Dad was too real.

Chad's body was warm against my back, and though I wasn't cold anymore, I shivered.

"You know, when you were about to get out of the car a few hours ago…when we were fighting, and I said what I did? You were right. I did say 'I'll kiss you' at first, but then I changed it to 'I'll kill you.'

I was nearly asleep, cocooned in a toasty warmth before he finished.

"I wasn't sure which one would be more threatening to you."

Threaten me, Chad, was the last thought I had before falling asleep. Please…