When she was out late at night dancing, she felt like she was soaring above everything. She felt life pumping through her veins- not just blood, but some other energy flowing through her body, propelling her forward. Maybe it had something to do with the tiny colorful beads she popped into her mouth before she went out, and maybe it had to do with the flashing lights and thumping music. The crowd around her jumped and danced to the beat of the music, and she was in the middle of it all, anonymous...

"Natalie!"

OK, well maybe not quite anonymous. Henry was still here, trailing along behind her like a puppy. He said he wanted to make sure she got through the night ok, but it seemed more like he couldn't do anything alone.

"What?" she yelled over the music, not hearing her own voice. Henry pulled her close to he could speak into her ear.

"It's like one in the morning- can we please go home now?"

She didn't answer, just turned around and tried to block reality out of her mind. School, her parents, life- she didn't want to worry about that. She just wanted to put this horrible pain behind her and feel alive, feel in control.

"Natalie!" Henry called again.

So he wouldn't stop- what could she do to make him stop? Unthinkingly, she turned around and covered his mouth with hers, kissing him more passionately then she'd ever done before. She didn't think about him, or her, she just thought of a distraction. Kissing him, he didn't have to be 'Henry,' her piano playing boyfriend who liked to smoke pot and listen to jazz music. He didn't have to be the same guy who thought it was totally fine to meet her crazy parents. He was just a boy, and as they kissed, she forgot that all he ever did was try to bring her back home, back to things she didn't want to see. She just held him tighter to her, and was glad when he held her right back, their bodies pressed too close, yet never close enough. She wound her hands through his hair, drawing him in even more, pleased when he put a hand behind her neck, drawing her closer yet. His other hand drifted down her back, and she just felt...there was no thinking, only the sensations brought by his hands on her body, the heat she felt against her skin and through her clothes. She brought her hands down his chest and further, across his stomach and down. Despite being surrounded by people, this anonymous attitude made her feel invisible, but finally in a good way. No one at the club noticed what they were doing, or cared. She found his hands and brought them up to her breasts, pleased when she felt his hands feeling her curves. Smiling against his kiss, she bit his lip playfully, then trailed her hand down until she reached the waistband of his jeans, pulling him closer by his belt loops, reaching her hand beneath his waistband, feeling his skin there. His hands drifted from her chest to her arms, and they closed around her elbows. Unsure of what he was doing, she tried to free herself from his grip, confused when he didn't let go. Suddenly, he was pushing her away, breaking their embrace and their kiss. He put his hands on her shoulders and held her about a foot away from him, looking at her with a mixture of disgust and shock.

"What are you doing?" he said, wiping his mouth. He reached forward and straightened the straps of her tank top. She pushed his hands away, mortified and sickened with rejection, humiliated by his protective gesture.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hedging as tear sprang up in her eyes. "Don't you want to touch me?"

"Not like this," he said, a hint of disgust in his voice as he gestured to her. "I'm sorry I let that go on that long. I don't want this you, Natalie. Where did you go?"

She knew he was right- she'd never been licentious or slutty, always hating the girls at school who wore too little clothing and used sex as a solution to their problems. And yet here she was, trying to ruin what she had with the one person that cared. Breaking down, she leaned into him, longing again for closeness, but this time she wanted his protection, wanted him to take her home. He hesitated before putting his arms around her- after all, was she just trying to seduce him again? But when he felt her crying against his shoulder, she felt him sigh and he resigned, holding her against him.

The sigh scared her. Was he getting tired of this? Was he going to leave?

When she wanted to party, she didn't want him around. He ruined the fun. But the thought of doing this without him... she couldn't imagine going through this pain without someone to lean on.

She couldn't look him in the eye, she was so embarrassed. And she still felt rejected, even though she knew the rejection was for the best. After all, would she ever have respected him again if he'd given in to what she'd suggested? If he'd kept touching her? If they finished what she'd started?

No. She would not have. And she would not forgive herself either.

"Let's go home," he said softly.

"I left my key. I can't get in," she realized.

"Crash at my place," he said, leading her towards the door after picking up their coats to fight against the cool January air. They got into his car, and he added, "There's a couch in my room."

She nodded, her head throbbing and her ears ringing. The silence felt like cotton stuffed in her ears after the cacophony of the music, and her head ached as though someone had split it in two. But she knew that wasn't from the music. Her eyesight was spinning, too, and she took her face in her hands, trying to get a handle on herself. What had she turned into? A drugged-up slut who hung out at clubs? What if Henry did break up with her? He had every right to- she wasn't exactly being a good girlfriend. All she ever did was drag him along as he watched her get wasted, and then he'd drive her home. Cover for her at school when people asked suspicious questions. What did she do for him? That was a question she couldn't answer, not just yet. Because even though she knew she gave nothing back, she wasn't ready to change. She had nothing to give. But if Henry did break up with her, would she stop going to the clubs? Or would she continue? What would she do then?

Back at Henry's house, they snuck into his room, and after she removed her shoes, Henry guided her into his bed. She felt awful- sick with shame and dizzy from coming down from her high. As she lay there, she wondered what was going to become of the two of them. She couldn't have him continue to watch this. It was embarrassing and terrifying. Though she needed nothing more than him, she couldn't let him continue to be with her. Not if this was all he ever saw of her. Better to fall from grace alone than to take someone with you, she thought. Before she fell asleep, she vowed to stop dragging him to clubs with her. To do that, though, she'd have to disconnect everything. He couldn't practice piano with her in the mornings, or talk to her at school. They had to be over.

It wasn't what she wanted, but ending it herself would surely hurt less than if he broke up with her himself. And she couldn't take the shame.

Henry shook his head in disbelief, watching as she fell asleep in a matter of seconds. As he threw a blanket over himself on the couch, he looked at Natalie, laying on his bed, looking pale and unhealthy. He remembered her behavior from that night, and all the nights for the past few weeks. No matter how it sickened him to watch her do this, he knew he'd never leave her, simply for fear of what she'd do if she went out alone. Sadly, he marveled at how far she'd fallen in only a matter of weeks.

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