Disclaimer: I own nothing at all to do with The Lost Boys. Thank you all so much for your reviews and I am so happy that you are liking my story. :) I just rewatched The Lost Boys again because I was in a bit of a mind blockage. :) Hope you enjoy this chapter, and please don't forget to review and let me know your thoughts. A special thank you to LiViNg ThE oBsEsSiOn, Sunlit Mercy, Amya and xoxoLovelyLadyBugxoxo; you all rock! :) x

Chapter Eleven

"Appetizer?" David offers, holding out his cigarette to me.

Perhaps I was feeling a little too daring and infallible tonight so I took it from him without hesitation. I've never smoked before in my entire life so I felt self-conscious smoking in front of them. They all watched me as I put the cigarette between my lips, taking a deep drag. It was a little too much. The smoke I had inhaled scratched and tickled the back of my throat and I coughed and spluttered, much to my embarrassment. David's eyes were fixed on me and I thought I caught him smirking before quickly turning his head in the other direction.

My insides and lungs feel as if they have suddenly been beaten. "I don't see how you can all smoke so much without it hurting your lungs..."

I wipe my mouth and then start coughing again, grimacing. How graceful and ladylike, I think sarcastically. But considering what I had been through tonight, what with spitting on that biker, I was practically breaking all of my mother's rules anyway...

The lights of the Boardwalk suddenly seem more magnified, brighter, flickering and glaring painfully into my line of eyesight. I blink several times, and then wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket quickly. Suddenly it feels as if I am riding on a boat pitching high seas, rocking back and forth against the waves.

What the hell?

"My God. That wasn't a regular cigarette, was it?" Paul laughs and shakes his head violently before taking the cigarette off me. He studies the end, and then takes a deep drag himself. He was so much more dignified about it – no coughing or spluttering came from him at all.

"No, no." David says softly, humour in his tone. "It's just the finest doobie Santa Carla has to offer..."

I gape at him incredulously. Perfect. Just perfect.

Marko smiles and reaches out to me, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Relax girl, you're with us."

How can I relax? I've never smoked any illegal substance before. "I know," I only say quietly, leaning into him.

"All right, boys," David says. "Let's go."

I watch as Dwayne lifts Susie onto the back of his bike and she wraps her little arms around his waist, clinging onto him for dear life. I stop in embarrassment and shame as David sits perched on the very end of his bike, not sure what to say or whether to hop on next to him or not.

"I can ride with Marko," I volunteer weakly, swallowing hard.

I wonder what he must see in my expression because he looks at me with utter confusion, his eyebrows raised. "Fine," he says shrugging and I realized he looked quite wounded for some reason as he stepped down on the peddle of his bike.

What can it hurt? I wonder desperately as the engine comes to life, an ear-deafening roar. Ten minutes of sitting close to David at the very least shouldn't kill me... I pull the sleeves of my jacket down to my wrists and climbed onto his bike, self-consciously.

"You all ready?"

I screamed. I wasn't exactly sure why I was screaming, but I just still couldn't bring myself to trust David enough. It was a long piercing scream in his ear from the Boardwalk all the way through to the highway. I realized it felt so strange, being in such close proximity to David in this way. I supposed it was something you never got used to... I tried to arch my back and sit up straighter on the seat so that I wouldn't be leaning on him, but was unsuccessful.

It was only when we were about a minute and a half away from the cave that I started to enjoy myself. But my eyes smarted from the biting wind and the skin of my cheeks felt tight, not to mention my throat was severely beginning to hurt from the smoke I had inhaled in from the cigarette – or joint, which would have probably been the more correct choice of the word - and especially all of the screaming.

The sky was beginning to become overcast, a dim white light leaking in through the heavy, grey clouds and I was genuinely startled as David started howling at the top of his lungs. It seemed he was enjoying himself, too, to my absolute surprise. I almost laughed loudly at his hysterics.

As he slowed the bike down to a quick stop, I pulled away from him quickly, trying to get off before he did, but when I stood up after holding the end of the bike with my hands for support, I noticed he was touching his ears discreetly. "Thanks. A hysterical little blood-bag of a girl screamed in my ears and busted my eardrums," he said in an icy voice before climbing off his bike.

Oops.

I shrug apologetically, feeling so wretched, but then he ignores me. He didn't wait for the other boys to arrive on their bikes; he walked straight into the dark, shadowed opening of the cave and disappeared abruptly out of sight.

When the boys arrived on their bikes, Paul too was touching his ears. "Yikes, somebody drive an early stake through my heart at the sound of that!"

"Yeah, chill out," Marko said, smiling widely at me. His smile immediately vanished. "Where's David?" he asks confusedly as he came and stood right next to me. I waited as Dwayne lifted Susie easily off the bike and jumped off his himself before answering.

"I don't know..." I admit miserably. "I think he went down there. He didn't seem very happy..." I wave a hand vaguely toward the opening of the cave and then tense as Paul laughs loudly.

"I don't blame him," he says, shaking his head and smiling wryly. "Girl, you've got a rockin' set of lungs on you - I'll give you that much!"

I feel myself going red at his remark. I hang my head, staring down at my hands. "I-I'm sorry," I say quietly, honestly.

As we enter the cave, I realize everything is a mess. The sheets of the bed are strewn apart, draped long ways against the dusty, dirty floor. The empty alcohol bottles and the few that were resting on the table by the bed, with the candles plugged inside of them, were knocked over on the ground. Shards and cascades of glass were lying right near the bed. But I noted, with relief, the dead woman David had murdered wasn't lying there all bloody and pallid on the bed any longer; he must have moved her...

Paul groans. "What the hell happened, bud?" he whispers to Marko, who shrugs, looking at the mess of their home with unconditional despair.

"I only have a few hunches," Marko says after a moment, peeking at me from behind his shoulder. "David's in one of his killer moods again..."

Paul rolls his eyes. "Now don't you just love that," he says sarcastically. Before I can register what is happening or the reasons as to why this was so funny, the boys burst out laughing; Marko edging slowly toward the bed, picking up the ripped apart sheets, and throwing the bundle of them on the bed, trying to repair of the damage of what was left of their beloved home.