Tucker snuck up behind me, putting his arm around my waist. I jumped at his touch, but felt my fluttering heart calm when I looked up and saw that it was him.

"I … believe you owe me a dance," Tucker stated.

"I believe you're correct," I laughed, snaking my arm around his waist. "Lead the way, good sir."

Side by side, we walked out to the dance floor, where a faster paced song was playing so we didn't have to do a slow dance. Tucker let go of my waist and immediately launched into a bad imitation of the robot. For a brief moment, I thought about teasing him, but then I shrugged and attempted the robot myself. I'm sure I looked worse than he did, but I didn't care. I was having fun. I giggled as Tucker switched from the robot to the sprinkler.

"You're such a dork!" I exclaimed, loud enough that he could hear me over the music.

"It's a part of my wily charms," Tucker joked.

"As long as Jazz likes it, right?" I teased.

"Jazz loves me," Tucker announced as Jazz herself approached us. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss to her temple. "Isn't that right?"

Jazz put her hands on her hips and faked annoyance. "I'm sorry, but if I remember correctly from dinner, you're actually trying to hook up with my brother."

"Danny was just a fling. You know you're the love of my life."

Jazz's eyes bugged and she looked up at her boyfriend. "Did you really just say that?"

Tucker smiled at her. "…No…"

Jazz giggled. "Good answer."

"How are you feeling, Jazz?" I asked, breaking into the cute conversation.

"A little stiff," Jazz admitted, "But good, really good."

"I'm glad," I admitted. "Having fun?"

"Yeah," she grinned, "But not as much fun as Mikey."

"Mikey?" I repeated. "I haven't had a chance to talk to him."

"You probably won't," Tucker told me. "You'll probably have to text him later, or something."

"Why?" I asked, suspiciously. Had something gone wrong? I couldn't see that happening, not if Jazz had described Mikey as 'having fun'.

"Well, he and Tara were dancing close and they've both randomly disappeared," Tucker explained.

"Oh," I pulled a face, not wanting to picture what my two friends might be doing in my house. "Good for them …"

"Sam," Jazz guffawed, squeezing my arm. "Your face is priceless."

I stuck my tongue out at her.

(-.-)

I flopped down on my bed between Leslie and Tara. Though it was late, we were still having a mini-meeting to discuss the party, which had finally ended around two in the morning. I felt exhausted from all the dancing and socializing. I'd finally caught up with Mikey as he was leaving around midnight, and had managed to worm details surrounding a make out session with Tara from him. Which is what I immediately brought to Leslie's attention.

"Tara kissed a boy tonight," I sang.

Tara blushed, and Leslie squealed, "Who?"

"My friend Mikey," I teased.

"Is he cute?" Leslie pressed.

"In a puppy sort of way," I answered immediately.

"Oh, come on," Tara scoffed. "He's more than that!"

"That's how I see him! It's not like I'm into him," I explained to her.

"No, you looked like you were into Danny," Leslie mentioned.

"Into Danny?" I spluttered. "That's ridiculous."

"You looked quite cozy dancing together," Leslie mused. "Very couple-y, if I do say so myself."

"I don't," I cried, trying to quiet the small part of me that wanted to ask if we looked like a good couple.

"Good!" Tara burst out. "You shouldn't have anything more to do with him."

"Why not?" Leslie asked her. "He seemed nice at dinner; shy, even. I didn't see that enormous douchebag that you said he was."

"The guy is there, trust me," Tara said. "You can't trust guys like him."

"I see Tara's point," I admitted, if only to stop the argument. Tara did make sense, though. I knew Danny could change personalities at the drop of a hat. I knew lies rolled off his tongue easier than truths did. I couldn't trust him. My feelings toward him might be convoluted, but I couldn't argue with the simple logic that Tara presented.

Tara nodded to herself, satisfied. "Smart girl. Sam knows what's up."

"Mhm," I agreed.

Tara yawned and stretched. "Well, I'm off to bed. It's been a hell of a night."

"Goodnight," Leslie and I chorused as she left my room.

"I should get to bed too," Leslie said, "but first, I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away," I encouraged, assuming that her question would surround Danny.

It wasn't.

"I want you to come to Mexico with me."

"What?"

Leslie was leaving on Tuesday to attend her cousin's wedding in Mexico and New Orleans afterward. I'd been preparing myself to deal with an empty house, with both Leslie and Tara returning to my home state. I'd been sad that they were leaving, but I'd also convinced myself that there was absolutely no reason why I couldn't go and visit the two of them whenever I so pleased.

"It's kind of abrupt, isn't it?" Leslie frowned. "And I get that you might not want to leave your parents so soon, or your parents might not want to let you leave them, but I think it would be a good idea. It would be a chance to escape this bubble of 'oh-my-she's-home'. I know you're getting fed up with the attention."

I had to agree with that. I'd spoken with the police more times than I cared to. I'd seen my face in the newspapers almost every day since I'd come home, and I cringed every time I recognized my senior portrait printed on one of the pages. There had been news crews camped around Amity, trying to get a word in with Danny and I. We both steadfastly said, 'no comment', while our parents made little comments about how happy they were to see us again. It was frustrating, to be sure.

But the lure of Mexico was not only about getting away from the three-ring-circus that Amity and my family had been hosting since my reappearance. I had dreamed of Mexico while caged; had dreamed of its beaches. And I had thought of my long lost friend, who was almost certainly still living there. It would be a longshot to find Valerie in such a big place, but it was so tempting to try and look for the girl again. Something that I would certainly have ample time to do while Leslie was dealing with her family member's wedding.

"I think I want to go," I told her. "I mean, I'd have to talk to Mother and Dad about it, but I'm an adult now. And I think I really want to go."

Leslie grinned. "Well, think quickly! I hope you do come, Sam. I'd love it."

"I'd love it too. I'll talk to my parents in the morning!"

(-.-)

"You want to go where?"

"Samantha, what has gotten into your head?"

I heaved a sigh at my parents' reactions, though I wasn't surprised at their responses.

"I want to go to Mexico with Leslie on Tuesday."

"That's it," Mother cried dramatically. "Our daughter has officially lost her mind."

"I'm not crazy. I just … I think it would be nice to get away."

"Get away?" Mother shrieked. "You've 'been away' for months! You've only just gotten back!"

"This isn't nearly the same thing!" I retorted. "It would be like a little vacation, some time for me to unwind, you know? I'd be back in a week."

"And what if you weren't? What if something outrageous were to happen?" Mother challenged me.

"Something outrageous already happened! I refuse to believe that something else could go wrong right now. I'd be back in a week, sunburned and happy!"

"Sam, honey," Dad broke in before Mother could say another word. "Surely you have to see it our way. We don't want to let you go, not now. Not after so much. It's … it's too soon for us. Maybe in a little while we can take a family trip there."

"So, I'm supposed to continue acting like a victim for the next few months? I can't let what happened control my life. I have to start living like I did before this happened. If I hadn't been kidnapped, if I had just asked to go to Mexico with a friend, there wouldn't have been an issue."

"But you were kidnapped!" Mother exploded. "We've gone through far too much with you!"

"Mother," I murmured, ashamed as I always was when reminded of what my suicide attempt had put her through. "It's not … It's not about making you anxious or making you worry. This is about me, trying to reclaim my life. My life is for living, not for being scared. Nothing else is going to happen to me. You have to believe that."

"I want to, so badly," Mother admitted, "But I just can't. I live in constant fear that I'll have to walk into another hospital room with you lying still and pale in the bed. I'm so worried that the next time something happens, you won't be so lucky. Because you are so damn, damn lucky. We're so damn, damn lucky. I can't risk that luck running out."

"I'll be with Leslie. I'll be with Leslie's family. I'll be safe and protected."

"Mexico can be a scary place," Mother sniffed.

"So can Amity," I retorted without thinking. Her face crumbled, and I carried on, trying to distract her from what I had said. "Look, the wedding is being held at a resort. I won't have any reason to be in a dangerous part of town. I won't go anywhere without someone else. It'll be okay, but you have to let me go."

Mother knitted her hands together, and then looked at my father. He reached over and placed his hand on her knee, rubbing her skin. They seemed to exchange a silent conversation, only giving a few visual cues. Dad shrugged; Mother shook her head. Dad's eyebrows raised; Mother tapped her fingers against each other. Dad shrugged again; Mother put her hand on his arm. Then, they turned and looked at me.

"All right, Samantha. You can go."

I blinked, shocked at what had just occurred. I thought that I would have to argue my point for the next day, at least. I had expected Mother to fight me tooth and nail. I understood why my parents would want to keep me here in Amity, but understanding didn't make me any less frustrated. It wasn't like I wanted to leave them behind again, not so soon after I had gained them back, but it wouldn't be like it was when I was locked up. We would be able to communicate with one another; I would know when I would see them again.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace them. "Thank you, it means so much to me."

"Just come back home safe, baby girl," Mother sniffed.

"I will, I promise."

"If you get Leslie's flight information," Dad rumbled. "I'll make sure you get a ticket on the same plane."

"Thank you so much, Dad."

"And you have to call us every day," Mother said firmly. "Every day, you hear me?"

"Okay, okay!" I proclaimed; giddy with the thought that I was going to be travelling soon. "Wow, I have to pack and stuff. Tuesday is only a few days away."

"You might want to tell Leslie you're going, first off," Mother suggested.

"Oh, right! I'll go do that now! Thanks again," I called over my shoulder as I sprinted from the kitchen and headed up stairs. I nearly tripped on a step; thankfully I managed to catch myself.

I pranced down the hall, slowing my steps so that I didn't disturb Tara. Waking Tara up from her sleep was like prodding a bear out of hibernation – a really bad idea. I pressed my ear against Leslie's door to see if I could hear anything. While I was fairly certain that she would be awake – Gavin was a morning person – I didn't want to disturb her if she wasn't.

I heard her singing to Gavin, so I knocked.

"Come in," she beckoned.

I tossed the door open and grinned.

"Guess who's going to Mexico?" I announced.

She squealed. "Yes!"

"Yes!" I echoed, pumping my fist in the air.

It was going to be great.

I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my betas: Forever Sky.

~TLL~