This is crazy. I'm on a roll. I haven't written this much in forever. All thanks to some pretty fantastic reviews I got that seriously inspired me. You guys have no idea how much I appreciate your feedback, and how much it makes me want to write more. So, thanks so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 2

"Mitchie! Mitchie, wake up! Let's go do some shopping!" Mitchie groaned, at the aspect of being waken up when she felt like a fucking zombie, and at the aspect of shopping. When she and Shane had gotten home the previous night, she was immediately bombarded by a worried Denise. It freaked her out, because she had always gotten away with sneaking out, mainly because no one had ever given a shit, and she wasn't sure whether she liked it or not at the moment. Now she would have to sneak out and have a guilty conscience about it. It's not like she wasn't going to stop. Even if the Gray's had set ground rules for her. Which, obviously, included no sneaking out. And they even stuck her with a fucking curfew. Mitchie and rules never mixed, and she wasn't going to start now. She still hadn't found a good place to get the stuff that she was craving. She hadn't wandered far enough the previous night to see if she could find a bar that she could sneak into or something. As far as back alleys went, there really weren't any, at least not ones well hidden enough to find the drugs she wanted. That was the problem with small towns, it was all tight knit and close together. If she wanted drugs, she'd probably have to wander out of it, and she didn't know if she wanted to go that far.

"Ugh. Shopping?" She questioned, her face pressed into the pillow, praying she had misheard Denise and she had said something, anything, other than the word shopping.

"Yeah! Shopping. Won't that be fun?" Fun? More like a fucking nightmare. It was never a good idea to take Mitchie shopping. Mainly because shopping was what she never did. Why in the hell would anyone use money on clothes? Especially when Mitchie had such an easy time taking them straight from the place. And Mitchie had only gotten caught a few times, she had become an expert at stealing. She had to use the small amount of money she had on food and whatever, and even then it wasn't much. She always had a hard time earning money. Sometimes she took money from her mom's wallet when she was too drunk or stoned to notice anything or remember how much money she had in the first place.

But shopping for fun? No. Fuck no. Not ever going to happen. "Fun would not be my word for it." She muttered, and Denise must have thought she was joking because she laughed. Mitchie just scowled and buried her head farther into her pillow, ready to fall back asleep and forget this little shopping conversation ever happened.

"Oh, come on, Mitchie, get up." Suddenly the covers were yanked off of her and she was exposed to the air around her. She groaned, wishing to be immersed once again in the comfort that the covers and bet brought, but Denise was resilient. It seemed that no matter what Mitchie said, or how much disinterest she showed, Denise wasn't going to give up on this shopping thing. "There are pancakes downstairs, and I suggest you get to them before the boys eat them all."

Pancakes? Ever since she had jacked some frozen, microwavable ones from the grocery store one time, it had been her favorite thing to eat.

Damn it, she thought bitterly to herself, and forced herself to sit up on the bed where she finally faced Denise who had a triumphant smirk on her face. Mitchie scowled in response.

"I'll let you get ready, if you're not downstairs in fifteen minutes, I'm coming back up." She warned as she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Mitchie's scowl deepened as her eyes wandered towards the clock, which told her it was nine in the fucking morning. That was ridiculous, sometimes Mitchie was only going to sleep at this time and now she was waking up. Her body was going to go into shock, she was sure of it.

Cursing to herself, she climbed off the bed and staggered towards the adjoining bathroom that she had all to herself. Thank God. She was gonna become murderous if she had to share a bathroom with a fucking boy.

With a deep sigh, she tried to get herself together. This was so out of her loop and it was going to drive her crazy. She couldn't wrap her mind around how people were able to live like this. Happy. She had always wanted it. Who wouldn't? But she had just grown up completely different. Having to fend for herself no matter how many bad things she had to do to keep herself alive. Obviously she hadn't been doing too great of a job. There were several times when she woke up in the hospital having almost overdosed. She'd been shot more than anyone ever should, not to mention gotten knifed on several accounts. Most of her skin was nothing but scars. But that was how she had lived, it was how she grew up. She always wondered what would her life would be like if things were different, but she never lingered. It had always hurt to know that she had been stuck in her own living hell with no way out. Who knew the only way out would be to take three bullets from a rival gang?

She sighed and washed her face with water before she went back into her room and changed into another pair of jeans and a different shirt, grimacing when the movement irritated her still aching shoulder. She had already ditched the sling since the only thing it was doing was annoying the hell out of her. The doctor said that the bullet in her shoulder had wedged against a nerve, which was why it hurt so fucking bad. She couldn't wait for the day that she was able to use her shoulder correctly again, because this was fucking ridiculous.

Once she was presentable enough, not that she gave a shit, she wandered downstairs where the Gray family was already eating their breakfast. She saw all the boys gathered around the table, including Jason and his wife Danielle. She had met them for the first time last night. They were okay, Jason had this weird child like innocence about him. When he had first saw her the previous night, he had given her a huge, contagious smile and wrapped her in a bear hug, and he hadn't even minded her not hugging him back.

"Oh, good, there you are. I was about to come back up there." Denise said when she spotted Mitchie entering the kitchen. "I saved you a plate." She smiled and handed Mitchie the plate filled with two pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon. Mitchie stared at the empty seat that was left at the dining table, wary of surrounding herself with people she felt completely out of place with. But then Denise gave her a push and she knew that she would have no choice but to sit, so she did, cautiously at that. She still wasn't used to these people, and she wasn't sure she ever would be. But she was starving, so she had no problem digging into the plate of food that she had been given. It was sure as hell the best food she had ever eaten. The microwavable kind had nothing on the ones Denise made. Not that she would ever admit that out loud.

There was conversation around her, everyone talking about whatever the hell they wanted to talk about, and Mitchie was sort of relieved that no one was making an effort to talk to her. She could eat her food without worrying about answering any stupid questions aimed her way. But the one time she did look up from her plate she had managed to make eye contact with Shane, who smiled warmly at her. She didn't smile back, of course, but it was a nice gesture, and it made the muscles in her stomach relax. Why? She had no fucking idea, but whatever, at least she felt a little more comfortable.

It didn't take her long at all to finish her food, and she was sure that was the most food she had eaten at one time in her entire life. Sad, wasn't it? After everyone else was finished, she offered to clean up, and then collected all the dirty dishes.

Mitchie was just about to head back up to her room when Denise stopped her. "And Mitchie, as soon as I'm done here we'll head out towards the mall." She smiled. Mitchie forced back a scowl and continued up to her room.

She contemplated sneaking out, but what the fuck would be the point? Denise would probably send her family out on another search party and just drag her back and she would have to endure the hell that was shopping anyways. And besides, it was way too early, there would be nothing to do.

She wasn't in her room but a few minutes when there was a knock at her door. She inwardly groaned, thinking it was Denise and how that woman could was dishes fucking fast. Mitchie had barely had time to prepare herself for the upcoming torture.

But to her surprise, it was Shane that stuck his head in.

"Hey," He smiled. "Mind if I come in?"

Mitchie just shrugged, and Shane took it as an okay to enter. He shut the door behind him and took a seat on the edge of her bed. Mitchie held back a smirk, considering. But nah, it was too early in the day to try and seduce a guy who she lived with. She had plenty of time for that later. Instead she crossed her arms and stared him down, wondering what he had come up here for in the first place.

"Mom said something about taking you shopping," He smirked. "Just came up to warn you. My mom's a major shopaholic."

Mitchie narrowed her eyes and scowled, and Shane's smirk just broadened at this.

"Maybe she'll go easy on you, though, seeing as you're new and everything."

She gave him a cold glare. He was beginning to get on her nerves. "Are you trying to help, or trying to piss me off?"

"Little bit of both," He smirked. "Just thought you might wanna know what you're getting yourself into."

"I'm not getting myself into anything," She snapped. "I'm being forced into this."

"Why don't you just say no?" He asked, and it made Mitchie backtrack. Why didn't she just say no? Just refuse to go. There was no way in hell that Denise could force her to go shopping. But just at the thought of hurting Denise's feelings, she felt guilty. Denise had taken a Baltimore street kid who had done more drugs, gotten drunk, and had sex more than any seventeen year old girl should. And now she was offering to buy clothes for her, clothes she probably desperately needed seeing as she only had few outfits in all. But Shane sure as hell didn't need to know that.

"It's none of your fucking business." She snapped. "Why do you care so damn much anyways?" She narrowed her eyes at him again.

He was silent for a moment. "I was just wondering. You didn't seem like the shopping type to me."

"I'm not."

"That's what I thought. I figured someone like you would do anything to get out of shopping with someone like my mom."

She glared at him, hard. "What do you mean someone like me?" She demanded.

His eyes widened, and he backtracked, obviously not realizing what he had said. "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just meant-"

"You just meant what?" She snapped. "That some fucking troublemaker like me would just blow everyone off? That all I care about is myself?" As soon as the words left her mouth though, she knew it was exactly the thing that she would do. It always had been. In Baltimore she was always looking out for number one, mainly because there was no one else to look out for. She didn't have time to care about people, she was too busy making sure she didn't end up dead in the gutter.

But Shane looked guilt stricken. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean it like that." She softened, though not much, when she heard the regret in his voice. She eased off the glare and settled on scowling at him.

"Just get out, Shane."

He nodded his head, understanding before standing and leaving the room.

The weird thing was, when he left, she wished he would come back and talk with her some more. Even if they were only arguing.

The mall was even worse than she had thought it would be. And not just the shopping aspect of it. There teenage girls, some who looked her age, and some thirteen year olds who were trying way too hard to be hot. And were failing miserably. They walked around in packs, giggling like idiots and holding on to several bags from several different clothing stores. Then there were guys who were checking out all the packs of girls, and when one tried to approach her, Mitchie gave him glare that immediately had him backing off.

Denise didn't seem to notice Mitchie's hatred towards the mall, or if she did she chose to ignore it. She had already bought Mitchie several different outfits and a few pair of shoes seeing as the ones she had on now were so beat up the soles were just about ready to fall out the bottom.

After about three hours of scouring through endless stores, they took a lunch break at the food court where Mitchie watched a bunch of nerdy guys embarrass themselves as they tried to talk to some girls who were decked out in cheerleading uniforms. Mitchie hated them already.

"So, I got you all signed up for school. You'll be starting Monday." Mitchie finally zoned back in to what Denise was saying, and once it registered, she dropped the french fry she was just about to place in her mouth.

"School?" She asked incredulously. Sure she went to school back in Baltimore. On certain days. When she felt like it, and when she didn't wake up at three in the afternoon. Granted when she woke up at what was considered to be a decent time, Brian had always talked her out of going and instead to go hang out with his gang. It wasn't a hard offer to refuse. So school was never part of her agenda.

"Yes, school. You're supposed to be a senior, aren't you?"

Mitchie was still stunned. "Um...I guess." She made it sound like she wasn't too sure of it herself. Of course, she wasn't sure how the hell she had made it all the way to grade twelve in the first place.

"School year started just a few months ago, so I'm sure with a little hard work you'll be able to catch up." Denise told her, not noticing that Mitchie was still in complete and utter shock at the aspect of going to school.

She cringed.

It was October. There was no way she was going to make it through the rest of the school year, especially if Denise was going to make her go everyday. And hard work? Yeah, right. No fucking way in hell was she gonna work hard to do well in school. Not going to happen.

"Do I have to go?" She asked, and Denise immediately nailed her with a look that had Mitchie cringing again. She took that as a yes.

"Look, Mitchie, I know things were different in your life back in Baltimore." Lady, you had no fucking idea, Mitchie thought with a scowl. "But you're just going to have to adjust to the rules here. The first one being that you graduate high school."

"What are the other rules?" That was probably the stupidest thing she could have ever asked.

"I'm not sure what all you got into back in Baltimore, and I'm sure I don't want to know, so I'm just gonna lay out the ground rules that will be enforced at all times." She said in a firm, don't-bullshit-with-me voice. "You already know the rules about no sneaking out and your curfew. Another rule is that you will not be using any drugs of any kind." Mitchie just about had an aneurysm. "No drinking, no smoking, and no hanging out in shady places. You will not be bringing any boys to the house without my or Paul's permission. Understood?"

Mitchie scowled. What the fuck did these people do for fun around here? She took away everything that Mitchie did back in Baltimore. What was she supposed to do now?

"And what if I break the rules?" Mitchie dared to ask. There was no way in hell she was going to agree to any of that shit.

"There will be consequences. Serious ones." Then her voice softened. "I'm not your mother, Mitchie. I am not that woman you left behind in Baltimore. I want to help you. I want you to go far in your life. You have so much potential, but you are not going to live up to it if you're doing drugs that can kill you. Do you understand?"

Mitchie's throat had closed up, so all she could do was nod her head. No one had ever said that to her before. That she had potential, it seemed like such a stupid thing to think. Mitchie never thought she had anything resembling potential, that she was doomed to be someone who died young because of a gang war, or some stupid street thing gone wrong. She never thought about having anything to live up to, about having a future. Of course, she would have rather died rather than to end up like her mom.

It was nearly four hours later when they finally got back to the Gray household, hauling a shitload of clothes and random things that Mitchie would probably never use. She passed Nate in the living room on the way towards the stairs with her ridiculous amount of shopping bags.

"Have fun shopping?" Nate asked with a grin. Mitchie only responded with an icy glare that had the youngest Gray boy laughing. "I figured. Need some help with that?" Considering she didn't want to haul all that crap up to her room by herself, she dropped some of the bags into Nate's lap before continuing up the stairs, now with Nate following behind her.

She dropped the bags onto her bed and merely scowled at them, and then glared at the one's Nate dropped next to them.

"I don't know what the fuck to do with all these clothes."

Nate just laughed. "Most people wear them."

"No shit, Sherlock." She glared. "I've just never had this much clothes in my entire life."

"Hey, look on the bright side, it'll save you from having to go on another shopping excursion for awhile."

He had a point. A very good point.

"Thank God." She breathed before collapsing into a chair that sat in the corner of the room, seeing as the space on her bed had been occupied. "How the hell do you stand it?"

Nate just laughed. "Usually she doesn't drag us into shopping with her, says we complain too much. But this might be a record for her. Then again, she's never had another girl around the house to go shopping with."

Mitchie felt a pang of guilt at that. But hey, she went shopping, there was no reason to feel fucking guilty, except she had hated every second of it. But she was there, wasn't she?

"So, she told me this morning about you starting school on Monday."

Mitchie's scowl returned. "Yeah, so?"

Nate jerked a shoulder. "Nothing. Should be interesting, I guess. At least you won't be alone."

"What's that supposed to mean."

Nate grinned. "I go to the same school. So at least you'll know one person."

She didn't know if that made it better or worse. "I guess there's that."

"I could introduce you to my friends. I kinda told them you were living here now, and they want to meet you."

Great, more people. "I don't think-"

Before she could finish, Denise was calling him downstairs. He rolled his eyes. "I guess I'll talk to you later then." He left, making Mitchie huff because she didn't get the chance to tell him that she didn't want to meet his friends. That she would rather be alone than suffer through the stares she would get from people who thought they were better than her just because they grew up in a better world. It wasn't fair. That these people in this town were lucky enough to have families who gave a shit. Who would do anything to make them happy and keep them safe. Mitchie never had that. She had always looked for that sense of comfort and safety that people were supposed to get from your mother. But Mitchie had been let down time and time again. She had always been deathly afraid of thunderstorms. Nothing should be that fucking loud and bright. But she had always had to endure through the pain herself because her mom was always passed out or not there. At one time she had Dylan. Her brother. He was always there for her. But then he left. Leaving her more heartbroken and alone than ever. Especially after what happened to Cameron.

Tears fought their way up her throat, but Mitchie forced them back. She couldn't show weakness. She had to get through it. Fight her way through all the tragedy that she had been through.

Before she could force all of the tears away, there was a knock on the door, shocking her enough that few tears dripped down her cheeks. Before she could wipe them away, Shane popped his head in and gave her that smile of his.

"Hey, dinner's almost rea-" He finally noticed the tear stains and he frowned before coming into the room and shutting the door behind him. "What's wrong?" He asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, facing her direction while she still sat in the chair.

"Nothing's wrong." But her voice was choked up, and she was having a harder time keeping the tears at bay. In her haste to try and get herself together before she completely broke, she stood from the chair and distracted herself by grabbing the shopping bags off her bed and grabbing the clothes out of them before shoving them into her closet. It was a task that would distract her, but for only a few minutes.

But Shane wasn't going to let her get away with it. He jumped up from the bed and grabbed her arms, forcing her to stop throwing her clothes around, and instead forced her to look at him. When she finally slowed down, she realized that the tears were falling freely now and small sobs were trying to work their way up her throat.

"Mitchie, it's okay." Nothing was okay, but it was a nice thing to say.

"Shane, just go away." She tried to push him away but the grip he had on her arms only tightened. "Shane-"

"No," He said firmly. "Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"It's none of your business."

"Maybe not, but Mitchie, you can't be bottling things up. It's not healthy. You can talk to me, I promise. I know this is all different for you. I don't know much about where you came from, but considering last time you were there you got shot, so I assume it wasn't that great."

"You assume right."

"So talk to me."

"No."

"Mitchie-"

"Just don't, Shane. Don't. I don't have to tell you anything."

"You can trust us, Mitchie." Shane urged.

"One thing I learned growing up in Baltimore. You can't trust anybody. Because they usually end up screwing you over, or they end up dead."

Shane didn't say anything. Just looked at her with soft eyes that were burning into her own. Why did she want to trust him? Why did she want to just break down and tell him everything? She couldn't, obviously, but damn it, she wanted to. She also wanted to run her hands through his hair that looked so soft, and she wanted to kiss the lips that were now set in a deep, frowning pout.

"Shane? Where are you?" Mitchie heard someone call, someone unfamiliar. It wasn't Danielle or Denise's voice, Mitchie knew that for sure.

"Who's that?" She asked, looking back up at Shane who was now stepping away from her, releasing the grip his hands had on her arms, and looking a little bit guitly.

"That's Rachel. My girlfriend."

Mitchie frowned. Of course. Of course the bastard had a girlfriend.

Now she was all shaken up. She had practically broken down in front of the guy she was somewhat attracted to, albeit annoyed by, and now she figures out he has a fucking girlfriend.

Fuck my life, was all she could think.

Well, there ya go. Three updates in three days. Keep all those great reviews coming and it might even be four. I hope anyways, I'm having so much fun writing this.