Hi. Well… I feel this chapter is long overdue. And I'm so sorry for that. But here it is. Don't be too excited. It's not the best.

P.S. My teacher made me change my typing style. Whether you hate it or love it, I still hate it.

Around two am, I woke up. My dreams were peaceful, and there was no reason for me to wake so sudden. But as soon as I opened my eyes I could tell why. Nina was still asleep, but she had rolled. She flipped onto her side, and her head was now on my chest, my arms around her waist. This is too intimate. We're just friends. If she saw us in this position… Well, she'd not be happy.

Slowly, as not to wake her, I sat up and pulled myself out of the warm, comfy bed. Knowing Nina would not be pleased if she was the one who woke up to that, I walked out to the living room. I only allowed myself one glance over my shoulder to see if Nina had woken. In all of five seconds I could tell she had not. She curled herself up into a tiny ball at the loss of warmth, and was breathing quiet, deep breaths. Me sleeping on the couch will be for the better.

Laying down slowly, so the couch doesn't squeak, I thought over the day. Jessica, Nina, one bed… It was all too much. These girls are going to drive me mad. First with Jessica, then Nina being jealous, I think, then when she said she didn't care who I liked? Who was ever supposed to understand how women think?

I continued to roll over, trying to get comfy. The couch didn't have a very good support system, and the springs kept sticking in my back. But yet, my mind refused to stay still. The Eiffel Tower. That's one of the places we'll have to go too. Nina loves the whole romance of France thing. I'm sure if I plan it right, I could probably get a kiss out of her by the end of the visit. But I'd have to be careful. I'm supposed to be her friend, her support while we're here. She's unsure of her emotions. She's being controlled by her grief and dread. So much so, that I think she almost feels guilty for Sarah's death… And now that Mark has passed, Nina is even more depressed. Why does these things always happen to her.

She deserves to be happy. And that was my last thought before I passed out.

I woke up to a shaking in my shoulder. My eyes flew open, and I saw Nina standing over me. Nina. In her full glory. Her baby blue shorts, and her black cami were slightly out of place, as if she had rolled countless times since I left her. Once she realized I was awake, she stopped shaking me, and sat down on the ledge of the couch.

'I woke up, and you weren't there. I got scared.' I truly looked at her and realized she was shaking, and her face was stained with tears. 'I thought something happened… And then… I was worried.'

I sat up and pulled her into me. 'I'm here, Nina. It's okay. I just woke up, and decided to go for a walk. I guess I passed out on the couch. I'm so sorry. But, I'm here. I'm right here. Nothing happened.' We must have sat there for an hour. Me holding her, her shaking and crying.

Eventually she started to calm down and got up to get dressed. Before walking through the door to the bedroom, she turned to me and said, 'Breakfast down at the restaurant. Be ready in five.' With one evil smirk, she threw my clothes at me, and slammed the bedroom door shut.

I ran over to grab my clothes off of the floor, and started to strip right there. I wanted to be fully changed before Nina came back out, and I had succeeded. The clothes she threw at me were defiantly not tourist clothes; she probably wanted to avoid the attention. Long blue ripped up jeans, and a black and white plaid tee with my leather jacket. She probably would be wearing an outfit she bought over around Anubis, instead of one from America.

Boy was I wrong. Nina opened up the doors exactly five minutes later with an outfit on that I had never seen. 'Nina. Wow. You-you look amazing.'

'Why thank you! Amber looked up French styles and ordered it. I figured she'd have a flip if she saw pictures of us and I wasn't wearing the outfit in any of them. She said it was called Crush, Spirit, and Mr. President? I don't know. She's the one who's into clothes.' Overall it was one of the cutest outfits I have seen Nina in. She was wearing a feminine and flirty black blazer with pockets and a white scarf, over a silk, floral white scoop neck, tunic. And for pants she was wearing model leggings with leather quilted knee patches. Defiantly the cutest outfit. 'I guess it's hip and popular over here?'

'Haha. Like I'd know. But come on, let's get some breakfast. I called the restaurant right down the road last night and they have your favorite. That'll be a nice just like home moment.' I smiled as she hooked her arm in mine. I led her to the door where she stopped to put on her black flats.

'You know, sometimes I feel like it'd be easier if we could go barefoot.' She looked up at me from under her eyelids, and it was all I could do not to kiss her. 'I mean, how long do we waste doing up laces, or finding the perfect shoes.'

'I feel like Amber would have a fit if she heard you say that. We'll have to buy her some dresses while we're here.' At this point we were walking out of the hotel room and about to step into the elevator. We laughed and joked around about what we would buy Amber till we got to the lobby.

'Excuse me! Mr. Rutter, is that you?' A boisterous voice called. My head shot right up and turned to the person, while Nina cowered a little at how obnoxious people in the town could be. I didn't know the man, but obviously he had Nina scared. She trembled beside me, not quite herself.

'Nina? Who is it?' I asked. My voice shocked her, and she turned to me with fear evident on her face.

'It's him. It's the one who knows who we are. He knows Victor. He knew Sarah, Jossie, and Shelby. It's Burt. The cab driver. And I think he killed Mark.'

So… I owe an explanation. Again. Don't hate me. Brandon's been in the hospital, like all the time. And I have school work, boces, and SATs and ACTs. Oh joy. So I've been soo busy. Then it was the two year anniversary of my best friend's death, and she was the one who first got me writing, so I should have wrote then, but I couldn't. So here we are. Like what? Seven months later? Please don't hate me.