Let's keep going. Thanks for reviewing, Bloodylilcorpse (I don't either, but I figured it was the best thing for a slightly irresponsible seventeen-year-old whose child would have a hard life anyway) and queenoftrouble.

I put the whole baby thing behind me before senior year began. It wasn't there any more, and everyone involved, I'm sure, was relieved. Zoey reported to me that she was still visiting Mike regularly, and it was true – she hadn't said a word about me, and Mal hadn't come out. In fact, she reported that the only personality she'd seen since was Chester, when Mike was stressing out about something.

Life went on. I had a weekend job, while Duncan was doing something daily – I didn't ask what, since knowing him, it was probably on the verge of illegal – but we still had a lot of time for each other, and other friends. We went out most Fridays or Saturdays – sometimes together, or sometimes with friends separately, and for a month, life was as good as it could get.

I guess it would've been forty-six days exactly since my visit when it started, on a Friday. Everything that had happened on All-Stars and after had created a bond between Zoey and I. I didn't have many female friends (although I still kept in touch with Sierra after she befriended me on the show), but she was definitely one of the first. I mean, she was the only friend I had who'd seen me at my worst. Most of my school friends didn't really know the real me, and although my relationship with Duncan was just about as real as it got and he knew me better than anyone, Zoey was the only one who really understood what had happened. But I wasn't that worried when I texted her and she didn't answer...at least, for a while. But when it had been six hours and she still hadn't answered, I got a little worried. Zoey always answered all of my texts within an hour! She was in senior year, like me, but she always answered texts, even on school days. She'd even told me.

"I put my phone on vibrate when I'm in class," she told me, "But if I have a text, I'll look it up straightaway during break. And I always answer." She had laughed then. "I guess I'm kind of compulsive in that way. If I had a phone that had internet, I'd probably be just like Sierra with her SmartPhone."

So of course it was a little worrying when Zoey didn't answer my text. I sent another, asking if she was okay, planning to call if she still hadn't answered by the next morning.

But I got a text back, first thing Saturday morning, in fact. Well, it said it was from Zoey, but it was a little weird. Zoey hadn't bothered to learn textspeak, and only used the most basic ones, like "u" for "you" and "lol" for "laugh out loud". It was a huge contrast to my only other texting friend, Sierra, who I happened to know used textspeak out loud (like the time she said on World Tour "OMG, Chris, I am just LOL"). But anyway, although Zoey wasn't textspeak-savvy, the message I got from her was still strange.

It read: B, don't txt again cos my cell tracks contacts and ill have to give this up soon so do

That was all it said. But I knew what Zoey was saying. "Bailey, don't text again, cause my cellphone tracks my contacts, and I'll have to give my phone up soon, so-" I guessed she'd had to give up her phone at that moment. But more importantly, I knew Zoey was in major trouble with that message. And if she didn't want me to be found, there was only one person I knew who would want to find me, and who would endanger someone as innocent and harmless as Zoey (yeah, I knew about her crazy skills, but when she wasn't Commando Zoey, she wouldn't hurt an amoeba).

Mal. The only one with a motive.

The question was, how could it have happened? Zoey may have started out on the island a total doormat, but it had been more than a year, and she could and would fight.

But I had to face facts. Zoey was strong, but she was only human. And I knew from experience that if my deductions were right, even she would've reached her limits at some point.

And in the same way, I knew I couldn't just stop texting. But if Mal had Zoey's phone, and could track me if I texted, then I'd just have to text Zoey somewhere I didn't go to often, and probably would never go again. I thought about it. Where would I never go again? And then it hit me!

Two hours after this revelation, I was standing outside the dark square building and the walls of brick and barbed wire, texting Zoey's phone: I know what's going on, and I'm not going to just give up and let a friend get hurt. What's your angle?

Five minutes after sending, I got a text back: Come and get her, doll face. Or maybe I'll just come and get you. I know where you live. And I also know you've been breaking the rules by living there.

I didn't need to be told that it was true – Mal had Zoey's mobile, and that text was from him. And..well...was it true? He obviously knew I was living with Duncan, but did that mean he knew where I was?

I was outside juvie. The place I'd sworn I'd never go again.

I didn't tell anyone about what was going on, pushing it down. But I couldn't forget it. In the back of the mind, I was scared that all of my nightmares were going to come true. From now on, every night that Duncan and I were...uh, getting intimate...I engulfed myself into the haze, because deep down, I was scared that it might be the last time I ever got to show my favourite delinquent how much I truly loved him.

I relaxed a bit more after a week, though. Maybe Mal's threat was a lie. Of course, that hope didn't last very long.

I swear, I'm not sure what happened. It had been a tiring day, and I'd barely had the strength to even make out with Duncan before crashing. But even so, while I drifted off, I heard him whisper "Sweet dreams, Diamond."

Yeah, the closest thing I got to dreams that night was half waking up and hearing voices, then feeling something with a pungent scent placed on my face, and again, I was out.

I woke up in a room that felt familiar. Too familiar. It was windowless, with a single lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. I was currenly lying in a double bed with black – oh no!

I sat up, suddenly wide-awake, seeing my surroundings. And next to me...oh please say this isn't happening! - there was a familiar girl, with scarlet hair, sleeping peacefully.

I didn't know where I was, but I knew what had happened. I'd been kidnapped. And if I didn't figure out a way out, I'd be more hurt than ever before!

Mal didn't have to escape the mental hospital, because Mike committed himself voluntarily. He just had to discharge himself while pretending to be Mike. Now, he hasn't yet got a tower, but he's got a place.