I stay in the house by myself for most of the afternoon with a couple books to pass the time. Wrong choice, I guess. I seemed to have missed a lot of fun. At the dinner table, some of us tell stories about our days. Not once has a day in Alexandria been as filled as it was today.

In the time span of a few hours, Glenn, Tara, and Noah went on a trial run with Aidan. Glenn says that Aidan risked their lives, and he's not fit to go beyond the walls. They got in a fistfight that most of Alexandria saw.

Rick and Carl went beyond the walls, killing walkers together. Talk about father-son bonding time. They came back just in time to watch the fight between Glenn and Aidan. Rick tried to break it, and that led to Deanna naming him and mom the new, "constables," of Alexandria.

Maggie's been officially taken under Deanna's wing. She tells us over pulled pork that Deanna saw leadership material in her, and that tomorrow she's going to, "shadow," Deanna's day. The rest of us have no other interesting stories to tell, so we begin to eat our small dinner in silence.

"Pass the peas, please." I whisper out to Rick and Carl. They're by the bowl of veggies on my left, near the head of the table. I'm in the middle, next to mom.

Most eyes turn to me, some in confusion and some in amazement. Rick's blues bore into my own, a grin on his face.

"What?" He asks.

"The peas." My cheeks burn at the attention everyone's giving me. "They're in front of you. CanIpleasehavethepeas?"

He grabs the bowl with more vigor than is necessary. "Yeah. Yeah, here."

"Thank you." I say it a little louder than before.

As I pour the greens next to a slice of bread on my plate, the whole room is nearly silent. I can feel them all staring at me.

"Please talk." I request. "It's too quiet in here."

A knock at the door sounds, loud and proud. Oh, thank god. I hate being the center of attention.

Glenn stands from his chair and grabs the door. A cheery voice rings through, "Evening, Glenn! I just wanted to drop these off."

"Yeah, sure, bring 'em in." He answers.

Deanna walks through the living room and into the kitchen, holding two hangers in hand. Hanging from them is what I assume clothing, but they're covered in a black garment bag so we can't see inside.

"Hi everyone." Deanna greets. A chorus of hi's and hellos follow. "I just came by to drop these off. Rick, this one's for you. And Michonne, this ones yours. I hope they fit." She hands each of them a hanger. Mom gives a warm, "thank you," while Rick gives her a curt nod.

"And I want all of you to know, tomorrow I'll be hosting a welcome party in your honor at my house. I hope you all can come to it."

"A party?" I ask, willing my voice to be loud.

Her eyes gleam at me. "Yes, a small dinner party. No need to dress up," she chuckles, "but we'll have food and drinks there. It'll be a nice change of pace for you all, especially after this evenings activities."

I assume she means the fight between Glenn and Aidan, so I just nod at her explanation.

"Well, I guess that's it folks." Her bright eyes scan over the whole group, giving each of us a wide grin. "I'll see you all tomorrow." Her shoes click against the tile as she leaves the house, and it's silent again.

The next proclamation comes from Rick as we all clean up the table. "I think we can sleep in our own rooms today. In both houses. Everyone okay with that?"

I shrug my shoulders in response, even though my heart pounds a little faster in my chest at the thought of being alone for the night.

The rest of the group agrees with Rick. Some of us branch off and leave this house for the one next door. It feels wrong, watching them all leave, but I will myself to believe that they'll be okay. It's only for the night. They're right next to us. They'll be okay.

Mom's resting her weight against the counter, her hands grasping the edge behind her lazily. My good hand goes to poke her shoulder. In a soft voice, I tell her, "I think I'm going to shower upstairs."

I can tell she's suppressing a grin. Her lips press a hard kiss to my forehead. "Okay, Liz. See you later."

My lips press into an awkward thin line, nodding to her. I turn away from her to the left, and my hand grabs the hilt of a large knife from behind my back. Just in case. For my own damn sanity. Then I bound up the stairs, taking two at a time and going into the first bedroom to the right. The one that Carl and I kissed in the first day here.

I stow the knife under the pillow on the bed before stepping into the stream of droplets. The shower is quick and hot, and I revel in the feeling of my skin burning under the water. My bad hand, with the bandage, gets soaked too quick and a hiss of pain escapes me.

When I get out, I maneuver the hand away from me, trying to dry the rest of my body first before I inch up the arm. The bandage is beginning to slip off my hand and I mentally curse. As I pull the damn thing off, I think, "I need help. I need a new one."

With difficulty, I shimmy on panties and a pair of pants, and when I flip on my bra I notice the difference of strength in both hands. It takes longer than necessary because my fingers ache at the movement in my palm. Finally, a shirt is awkwardly pulled on from my good arm first and the bad slinks through.

I look over the patchwork that Glenn did to my cut. They're slightly jagged and not in a straight line, but they do their job and hold the laceration in place. The edges of the broken skin is dark red and sensitive, and I can feel every movement I make with it. I twist my pinky experimentally and wince. Stupid. Stupid.

I head out the door and go to the big bedroom down the hall, my good hand grasping the knob and twisting.

"Mom?" I call out into it. I find her and Rick standing together by a large wooden dresser, clothes hangers dangling from the door handles. What Deanna gave them.

"What'd ya think, short straw?" Rick asks, his eyes going over their new constable outfits. The outfit has a pale grey, almost white shirt, with the breast pockets a dark grey. The jacket and pants match the dark shade, and the jacket has a police badge on the left side. There's a patch on the left shoulder, a bright blue with the words, "Police Force," at the bottom. They get to wear ties as well. One tie is a dark grey, nearly black, and the other tie is a pale grey.

"Not too shabby." I comment. "You guys will be the talk to the town. You'll look snazy, at least."

"At least she didn't put us in khakis." Mom muses. Rick laughs and zips up the bag that presumably is his.

"What'd you come here for?" Rick asks me. I hold the bad hand out, pointing to the jagged stitching.

"I need another gauze wrap around it." I explain, my head twisting over to mom. "Could you help me real quick?"

She nods. "Yeah." She looks over to Rick momentarily. "You get the first shower then. Don't hog all the hot water."

He just grins in response. "No promises."

I roll my eyes at the banter between the two. They would be cute together. They deserve happiness.

"C'mon Liz." Mom grabs my good hand and begins to tug me to the door. "Rick's a bad influence. Don't learn his selfish behavior."

"Can do." I wave over my shoulder to him as I'm pulled past the threshold of the doorframe. She stops tugging on me as we walk side by side through the hallway, but her hand is still in mine. It doesn't leave until we're in my designated bedroom, and she lets me sit on the bed while she grabs the gauze. Her hands are slow as she delicately begins to wrap it.

"You know," she starts, her voice low and her eyes trail the movement of the bandage, "Andre used to scrape his knees all the time. He was a clumsy kid. He would hurt himself and momma came to the rescue, a band-aid and lollipop in hand to soothe him."

I smile at the thought of mom soothing a three year old. "You never talk about him."

"It hurts to, sometimes. Other times it's like a breath of air to remember him. He was a good kid."

I nod to her. "Of course he was. He was a part of you." Mom doesn't suppress a smile at the comment.

We sit in silence again as she puts on the medical tape, securing the gauze in place.

She doesn't know how I got it, I muse mentally. I should say something.

"I broke a plate..." I begin slowly. "I had a panic attack earlier."

"I know." She nods to my words. "Glenn told me before dinner."

"Oh..." I take a deep breath, waiting for her to say something. C'mon, she has to say something.

"Alyssa..." Mom starts. Though the gauze is secure, she doesn't drop my hand. She brings both of hers to shroud mine, holding it tightly in her lap. "Why didn't you come to me? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I... I don't know." I say lamely.

"You don't know?" She raises an eyebrow precariously. "Liz, as a girl of many talents, keeping secrets is not one of them. Tell me the truth. Please."

I look up to her soft features, and the disappointment in myself grows. "Please." Her voice is quiet. "Tell me."

"I just..." I try to bring words together to form a coherent sentence. "I lost Beth. I lost my best friend. Again. It was like losing Sophia all over, but worse. I didn't know what to do with myself. And I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want anyone else to fuss over me. I just wanted to be alone."

"I went through the same thing, too." Mom says. "After Andre, Mike, and Terry. I hated anyone near me. No one could help in my mind."

I give a slow nod. "Yeah. Just like that. And even though you went through it all, I didn't want your help, or anyone's help for that matter. I just wanted solitude."

"I get it." She brings an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "Trust me, out of all the people on this planet, I understand what's going on in your mind right now. But please tell me you don't wanna go through it alone now."

I nod into her shoulder. "No, I don't. Not anymore."

"Good." She presses a kiss to the top of my head, gingerly resting there. She whispers into my hair, "I don't wanna lose you, too."

My heart breaks at the thought. She lost Andre. She lost Mike and Terry. Andrea, too. Of course she's been worried sick about you.

"You won't." The words escape my mouth before my brain catches up with it. My arms wrap around her as tight as I possibly can to try to convey how much I love her. "I promise."

I lie in the twin bed, awake as can be. The electric clock on the nightstand reads 1:36 in bright green, and I internally groan. At least when we dog pile in the living room I'm comfortable enough to sleep. Alone? That's another story.

My face snuggles comfortably into the marshmallow-like white pillow beneath my head. Underneath, my fingers curl around the hilt of the kitchen knife. Rationally, I think I won't need it. Not in Alexandria. But living out in the woods for so long has made this a habit, and it's not one I'm willing to break.

A soft knock on the door brings me out of my thoughts.

"Who's there?" I demand, sitting up and gripping the knife tighter. I hold it out in front of me, the tip of the blade pointing at the door.

"Just me." A familiar voice says on the other side. The knob turns slowly and I'm greeted by Carl. His hair is wet and unkempt, and he wears a simple blue t-shirt with shorts to bed. "I couldn't... I couldn't sleep alone."

I nod. "Me too." He closes the door slowly behind him, careful not to make too much noise. He stays by the door before asking, "Can I- do you mind if I sleep with you?"

The knife is set back underneath the pillow and I pat the open spot beside me.

"Thanks." He breathes a sigh of relief and pulls in beside me. We take a couple moments to adjust the blankets and sharing the couple pillows on top, but before long his arms are wrapped tightly around my waist and my head is snuggled comfily in the crook of his neck. My bad hand goes against his chest, my fingers lightly grazing the other side of his neck. In his arms, already my mind is more relaxed.

"You smell like coconut." Carl tells me. "It's weird."

"You can say that again." I flick my short hair over my shoulder and it sticks lightly on his arm. It's still decently wet from my shower. "I could smell your axe body spray from a mile away. What's the scent? Pine needles and manliness?"

He chuckles into my hair. "Pretty sure it's pine-something."

"It doesn't smell like you."

"And what do I smell like normally?"

"I don't know." I bury my head deeper and his arms automatically pull me closer until our bodies are fleshed together, keeping me wrapped like a warm cocoon. "Like the forest. Like grass and trees and... Something. I can't really describe it. Just... you."

"You smell wrong, too." He says. "And your voice is different, a little. Not wrong; just different."

"I noticed that." It's scratchy and a little raspy, but it's already getting better from use. I can tell the difference from this morning to now. "It's weak. But it's getting better. It was worse when I was talking to Sam earlier."

"Ron's brother?" Carl questions. His nose scrunches in confusion.

"No, the Sam that's our age. The orphan."

"Oh. That's worse." His grip on my waist tightens, almost possessively. "Why would you talk to him?"

"Because he's from the outside?" I state it as a question, moving my face a couple inches upward so I can see Carl scowling. "He understands us better than most. Like Enid does."

"I just don't like him. There's something off-"

"You've only talked to him once." I sit up in my spot, his arm falling from my waist to just a little lower on my butt. "And you glared at him for most of the thirty seconds you talked to him. Was it that bad of a first impression?"

"Would you be mad if I said yes?" Carl says, an innocent tone drawling from his words. His hand tries to pull me closer to him but I take it off my butt and set it to the side of the mattress.

"Yeah, I would be." I nod. "I think he's a decent guy. We should be making friends with him, not burning him at the stake."

Carl's eyes look the pale sheets bunched up at the end on the bed instead of me. The blue hue is almost glassy in the dark when he mutters out, "I don't like the way he looks at you."

I brow furrows. "What? The way he looks at-"

"He has a thing for you. I can tell."

"Can you?" I cross my arms together. "He knows we're together. And that I'm not interested. I made that pretty clear earlier, not that he asked."

Carl looks back to me, and I can't suppress the tiniest of grins on my face.

"Why are you smiling?" His scowl grows.

"Just that I now know Carl Grimes is a jealous boyfriend. It's kinda cute, albeit annoying."

"Annoying?" He groans, flying back into the pillows and rubbing his face furiously. "Just imagine if I was talking to Enid. Alone. And she was all over me. How would you feel?"

"Well, first of all," I rest my head on his chest sideways, pulling my legs close and encircling his waist with my arms, "Sam was not all over me. If anything he was at least a couple feet away from me, almost at all times. He and I were throwing knives together. Second, I wouldn't need to worry about Enid. You're not her type."

"Oh, I'm not? How would you know that?" Carl sticks his tongue out at me, one arm going behind his head and the other going to play with my wet hair. I sigh into the movement. I love it when he plays with my hair.

"I jumped the wall with her today. We went through the woods for a good hour or two."

"Wow." He whistles. "You were busy today."

"Yup. Making friends and breaking plates."

"And breaking through your walls." He notes. "I missed the sound of your voice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He nods and looks down his chest at me. "And the way you sing. I miss that, too."

"I'll sing again, eventually. Maybe not now, but soon. For you." I smile sweetly at him.

"I'd like that."

"On one condition." I pull up, my face moving closer to his.

"Which is?"

"You back off of Sam. Be nice to him once in a while. He could be useful."

He rolls his eyes, but nods to the request. "Deal." He pecks my lips and brings me close, putting me on my side once more. I snuggle into him, wrapping one arm around him and his arms go around me.

"Good night, Carl." I whisper into his neck.

"Good night, Alyssa."

I wake up comfortably snuggled into Carl, seeping in his warmth. The sun is shining brightly through the window to my back, illuminating his soft features. My inner clock isn't working and I don't want to move Carl to check the time on the digital one beside the bed. He looks so peaceful.

Carefully, my hand goes to his face and brushes aside a brown lock. I pull it back softly down his face, stopping at his cheek. His skin is so soft and radiates such a calming warmth that I don't wanna move it.

I let out a gasp of surprise as he shivers underneath my touch. "Good morning to you, too."

"I thought you were still asleep." I apologize. "I didn't mean to wake you."

I try to pull my hand back but one of his goes around mine, keeping it there. He nuzzles into the touch and sighs contentedly. "I was already gettin' there. Besides, what better way is there to wake up?"

I groan as I sit up. I go to stretch my arms out and sigh in relief as I hear a few satisfying pops from my back. "What time is it?"

Carl pulls up from his spot, turning around to the nightstand on his side of the bed. "9:37... Oh my."

"Huh?" I peer over his shoulder, my arms lazily wrapping around him. His hands go to grab a small purple box from the stand, and a note underneath it, written in sharpie.

"Take a look." He hands me the box and I read the large, bolded letters, "Trojan: Pleasure Pack."

"Oh good lord." My face instantly goes red. I look into the box and inside are a few condoms scattered about. It seems the box had been used more than once before. "Who put that there?!"

"'From the adults of Team Family. Use them wisely.'" Carl reads. "Whoever wrote this even put a winky face at the end."

"I'm going to kill all of them." I shove the box into his hands with force before standing up in lightning speed. "After I eat breakfast. Or during. I haven't picked yet."

"Calm down, angel." Carl laughs. I still look like a cherry. Jesus Christ, they couldn't have been a bit more subtle? "At least they want us to be safe about it."

"But still." I go to the dresser in the corner of the room and yank out some jeans and a shirt.

"You're so embarrassed and it's adorable." I hear the sound of a drawer opening and the box being tossed in.

"You're not?" I question. I start a track to the bathroom so I can get dressed but Carl stops me halfway.

"Honestly? Not really." His hands rub up and down my arms soothingly, and I pray that the blush on my face is going down. "We're teenagers. Normally teenagers screw every chance they get."

"True." I nod. "I'm still gonna kick their asses, though."

"I wouldn't expect less from you." He grins. "But after we use one?"

My blush comes back full force. I manage to stutter out, "You-you're that confident, huh?"

"Maybe?" He shrugs, though it's stiff and unnatural. We've never had a conversation about sex before. This is new territory, and we're both just a tad uncomfortable.

"What?" Carl asks, a hand going to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. "Is the thought of having sex with me that bad?"

"Honestly?" I go past him and close the bathroom door halfway so I can still talk to him. I then pull off my shirt and begin to switch out of my pajamas. "No, it's not. I've thought about it before."

I finish putting on my jeans and socks and open the door again. My shoulder leans against the frame, and I puff out a big sigh to recharge my thoughts. "Probably more often than I'd care to admit."

"Really now?" He waggles his brows at me and leans in to my small form. "Do tell."

"Shut up, wannabe Casanova." I playfully shove his shoulder. "But, if I'm being truthful, I don't think I'm ready for anything like that yet. I trust you, a lot; more than I ever thought I could trust someone besides mom, but I just started talking again and getting better. I don't want to rush anything and screw shit up, y'know?"

Carl nods, understanding. I continue, "When we do have sex, I want it to be because we both want it and are comfortable with it. I want to be in a good place mentally. You, too. We should both want it."

"I agree completely." Carl nods, smiling sweetly down to me. "I don't want to rush things, especially something as delicate as that." He presses a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin. "You should go down to breakfast. I'll change and follow in a minute."

"Okay." I agree and head to the door, closing it behind me so he can have some privacy and I head down the stairs.

When I wake up, normally there's a large buffet of eggs, bacon, and some general carb like toast or pancakes. Today, the kitchen is cleared and many dishes are in the drying rack besides the window. Oh yeah, it's almost 10. Damn, we woke up late.

"Looks like you two slept in for once." A heavy pat on my shoulder jostles me from my thoughts. A grin is resting on Glenn's face as he passes me and puts a dirty dish in the sink.

"I actually slept." I correct, going to our large pantry and pulling out some corn flakes. "For more than a couple hours. Progress, woo."

"Everyone's already out and about. Your mom and Rick are cruising through town in their new uniforms."

"They enjoying it?" I shake the flakes into a bowl, praying they aren't too stale.

"Michonne? Maybe. Rick? Not so much." I nod and stuff a spoonful in my mouth. Ugh. This could be worse, but it definitely could be better.

"'Bout as much as I suspected from them." I sit down and push the flakes around with a spoon. I shouldn't have put so much in. I won't eat all of it.

I force another spoonful in my mouth and Glenn sits across me, resting his elbows on the dark wood of the table and holding his hands together. I try to make more conversation. "No scavenging today?"

"With the dinner tonight?" His thumb lightly brushes over his top lip as he speaks, relaxed in his ministrations. "Nah. Deanna wants her sons there, so Aiden's staying in and helping set up. Besides, I don't think he'd be too keen on letting me go out today. I, 'screwed up,' his mission once, he wouldn't let it happen again."

"Idiot." I flick a few flakes to the side of the bowl.

"Yup." He pops the 'p' at the end. "Anything fun for you kids in class?"

"Besides learning the slope of a line?" I snort, pushing my flakes around some more. "Nada. Maybe I'll read more Hamlet. 'To be or not to be, that is the question.' All that shit."

"Hey, don't knock it 'til ya try it." Glenn counters. "I loved learning Shakespeare as a kid."

I shrug my shoulders. "Guess it isn't that important nowadays. I don't hold it up to the scholarly level you did when you went through it."

"Touché."

A moment of silence passes between us, only filled by the sound of my spoon moving corn flakes in the bowl. I really shouldn't have taken so much. Gross.

"You gonna eat that?" Glenn asks.

I shake my head. "Nah, I took too much."

"You barely touched it."

"True. But I can't just force myself to eat so much. I'll get sick if I do." I argue.

"Fine." He leans over the table, giving a smirk. "But I have a proposition for you."

I raise an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"You eat, we'll say, half that bowl, and I'll..." He thinks for a moment, making up his mind, before saying, "a backflip!"

"A backflip." I say, unimpressed. "You can really do one, landing it and all?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out, should you take the deal."

My eyes search his face, and I see his inner kid shining through. The gleam in his eye, the smirk on his face. He just wants to have fun.

"You're five years old." I comment, failing to suppress my grin.

"Probably." He grins. "Does that mean we have a deal?"

I scoop up some flakes and begin to chew on them, nodding.

When I finish my half, I pour the rest of my uneaten flakes back into the bag (no one needs to know, nor do they really care,) and Glenn and I go to the front of the house on a patch of grass.

"Okay." He bends his legs and stretches his arms out in front of him. "I haven't done one of these in a few years, but muscle memory's a thing. Should be easy."

I cross my arms and jut a hip out, smirking. "Sure, whatever you say. I'm just here to watch you fall flat on your ass."

"I'm gonna land this perfectly, and you're going to apologize."

"We'll see about that."

"You will! Just you wait."

He bends his legs one last time before Maggie turns the corner of the house, Deanna in tow. Checking the perimeter, maybe? I mean, we are at the edge of the town.

"What's happening here?" Maggie goes beside me, pointing to her lovable idiot of a husband.

"Glenn and I made a deal. He's holding up his end of the bargain." I grin to her and Deanna. I notice a clipboard in her hands. Ah, showing Maggie more of the ropes. She's gonna be leader of this place someday.

"Which is?" Deanna looks to me, her smile ever-present and large on her face.

"The best backflip Alyssa's ever seen." Glenn answers enthusiastically.

"Well, don't let us stop you." Maggie encourages, pointedly amused at his actions. The three of us step aside, giving him some room for error.

His expression falters slightly at the crowd in front of him. He only expected me. Poor guy is gonna be embarrassed. But it doesn't stop him.

"Okay, one... two... three!" He manages to make himself fly backwards, but as expected he couldn't stick the landing. My ears hear him land on the ground harshly. He lands flat on his stomach, arms splayed out at his sides.

Glenn groans from his spot, unmoving. I don't suppress the giggle in my throat, nor do the other two.

"I would just like to say that I'm not on the ground because it hurt. It's very," he moans again as he tries to move his arm forward, "very comfy here. This grass is great."

I watch in amusement as he bends and gets into a kneeling position, brushing the dirt from his cheek. "This is the greatest deal I've ever made in the history of my life."

"Oh, shut up!" He sticks his tongue out at me from the ground.

"Never." I stick my tongue at him in response.

"I can't believe I married this dork." Maggie grins down to him.

"Best decision you made, right?" Glenn laughs as he stands up.

Maggie drawls out a, "suuure," to him before turning to me. "As funny as that was, watching Glenn make a fool of himself isn't the reason we came here. We wanted to know if you were going to attend the dinner tonight."

"It's not mandatory, and if you don't feel up to it you don't have to come. Or stay the whole time. It's all up to you." Deanna adds. She sounds so sincere, it's almost soothing.

"I want to go." I say, hopefully conveying how eager I am as I nod. "I'll admit, the thought kind of freaks me out, but I'm excited. I want to try being here, like a normal person."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, Alyssa." Deanna smiles her all-knowing smile. I'm getting used to it. I think I would like it more if she didn't smile the whole damn time, though. "I'll see you then."

A few hours later I'm entering Deanna's house, with Carol, Carl, mom, and Rick carrying Judith. What better way to make other townspeople like you? Babies. Always works. Another way? Baking food. Carol's made a whole tray-ful of chocolate chip cookies, and I must say, I'm very excited to try them out. The others will be trickling in when they're free of their jobs, sans Daryl. He thought the idea was just plain old stupid and didn't want to bother.

I survey the area, noting how many people were here already. It's a decent amount. All adults, drinking from blue and green plastic cups. There's beer on the table, a lot of beer, and some crackers set out as well. There's a large bowl full of red liquid on another table towards the library area. Punch, maybe?

"Oh my." Deanna comes up to us, a clear glass of amber liquid in her hand. "Welcome!"

"Hi!" Carol smiles to her. I almost grimace in response. That smile was so fake. And that cheery voice? Really?

"Oh, it's so good to see you." Deanna goes up to us. "Hi, Carl. Alyssa." She pulls past us and makes her way to the adults. "Thank you for coming."

Rick shifts Judith from one arm to another. His poor arms must be so tired from holding her for so long. Deanna looks at Judith, smiling. "You know, I didn't get a chance to interview this one. I envy her."

"Why?" Rick asks.

"She'll get to see what this place will become."

She ushers us farther into the room. "Come, come on in."

We follow her a few steps further before branching off in our own areas. Rick follows Deanna to her kitchen area, and Carol moves to set the cookies down beside the punch bowl. Mom stands with me and Carl, and I pray that Sam actually comes tonight. It'd be easier to talk to him than Ron and Mikey.

"You two go mingle." Mom tells us, a hand on my shoulder and a hand on Carls'.

"But there's no other kids here." I complain. "And I am not talking to Aiden or whatever."

"The other kids will be here soon. Jessie wouldn't miss something like this." Mom tells me. Her hands lightly shove us toward the library area. "Why don't you two have some punch?"

"I'm guessing that a demand instead of a request." Carl says. She pushes us a little further in.

"Damn right." She laughs a little. "Now go."

So the two of us walk over to the punch bowl, each pouring ourselves a little into the plastic solo cups. I get blue, Carl gets green.

"It's like I'm back at school, at some shitty dance." I mutter into my cup. Carl eyes me as he takes a sip of his own.

"Huh?" He says, a way of telling me to go on.

"At school," I start, lowering my cup from my lips. I cross my arms, lightly hugging myself as I say, "I was always energetic. A go-getter when it came to schoolwork. I tried in my classes, but I only had one friend, and that was Sophia. Her dad wouldn't let her go to any of the schools dances, so I was alone half the time. I didn't really get along well with other students, so I would hang around the snack table and gorge myself on cookies and juice."

"At least you went to some." Carl swirls the punch in his cup, his eyes following the swirls. "I didn't really go to any. The Halloween ones, sure, but only so I could see the other costumes."

"Did you have friends?"

"A couple, yeah, but I just didn't do well in crowds. It wasn't my thing."

"I get it." I nod, taking another sip. My eyes go to the door as it opens, watching as Jessie, Ron, their Sam, and some other guy stroll in. Ron scans the room, his eyes quickly finding us, and waves. He says something to his mom before coming over to us.

"Hey, guys!" He greets.

"Hey, Ron." Carl says back.

"Hi." I awkwardly wave with my free hand.

I watch as Ron's eyes go wide. "She speaks! Congrats, Alyssa. I knew it wouldn't take long for you to get used to Alexandria."

Oh, Ron. You don't know me at all, so don't assume things.

I just smile and shrug. "Guess it's not too bad here, after all."

It doesn't take long before Mikey shows up, his father in tow. And the rest of the group shows up. I think I breathe a little easier, knowing we're all together here. Well, besides Daryl. I don't think he's even showered here, yet. He should. But then again, seeing Daryl at a dinner party would be a sight.

The hours slowly pass, and the light outside the windows diminishes to black. The four of us begin to play Go Fish with a pack of cards that Mikey brought with him.

I notice the change in Carl as we play the game. He's much more at ease with the others. I notice how tense I am. Not that playing cards was a bad thing, but I'm still getting used to the new, "normal," in Alexandria.

The card numbers begin to blur in my brain during the game, and once the round is over my eyes search the room. Most of our group is by the couches, sipping on booze and having a good time. And by the group, I notice a person I honestly didn't expect to make it to the dinner party. Sam. Well, teenager Sam.

He brings a green cup to his lips, his eyes finding my own as I watch. I can just feel his ever-present smirk behind the plastic. His free fingers by his side wave to me. I wave back. Once he downs the cup, he sets it on a coffee table, and he strolls out the back door, to the porch. Should I follow?

"Alyssa?" Carl's voice rings in my ears. "Did you hear a word I said?"

"What?" I ask, shaking my head. "Sorry, I got distracted."

"Tell me about it." He grins to me. Did he notice Sam? "I asked for your cards. We're gonna shuffle the deck and start a new round."

"Oh, here." I hand them over chastely. "Actually, you three go on without me. I'm gonna catch some air."

"You sure? Or are you just running away from my amazing three wins in a row?" Mikey laughs to me.

I fake-frown at him. "You cheated last time and you know it!"

"Suuure I did, Alyssa."

I take a couple steps away from the group. "Gimme five minutes, and I'll be right back."

"Okay." Carls hand goes to mine, pulling me in for a quick peck on the lips before I leave. I grin to him and go through the back door.

It's darker than I thought it would be, but I still make my way over to Sam pretty well.

"Didn't think you'd show." I say bluntly, leaning on the half-wall of wood in front of me. My hands clasp together, holding on loosely.

"And leave the entertainment to Ron? Nah, I couldn't do that to you." He chuckles. I hear the swift sound of a blade being opened.

"You brought a knife?" I ask. He goes beside me, holding out a butterfly knife in front of me as he leans on his side.

"You didn't?"

I shake my head as his hand twirls a little bit, flipping the blade open and closed. "My knife is currently in the armory. They took it when we came in."

"That sucks." He flips it closed, offering it to me. I take it and open the tip with one hand, swinging it open with the other. I'm nearly entranced by the movement.

"Yeah, it does." I experimentally swing it once, to close it. "I feel naked without the damn thing."

"I get it." He nods. "I always have one on me, even if it's small. When I first came here, I always had a steak knife hidden. Not that I've ever used it inside the walls, but I slept better at night with it."

I nod to him. "I feel the exact same way." I quickly open and close the knife again, spinning it a little in the process. This is pretty damn fun. The door opens behind us, the light from inside illuminating a stretch over me and Sam.

"Feel the exact same way about what?" A voice says behind me, defensive. Carl.

"About knives." Sam quickly offers. I turn and show Carl the butterfly knife in my hands. His blue eyes burn into my own. Oh my. He's angry.

"I can't sleep without one. I don't feel safe." I add, hoping he understands.

"And neither can I. That's it." Sam finishes, his hands up in surrender. I flick the blade closed and hand it back to him.

"That's all we talked about, Carl." I say. His gaze flies from mine to Sam's, and I watch as the anger softens. He nods to me.

"Me too." He takes a step forward, going to my side, and snakes his hand around my waist protectively. I lean in to his touch, silently showing him he has nothing to worry about.

"I had one under our pillows last night." I tell him, pressing a quick kiss to his neck. "I felt like I could sleep easy with it."

"I have so many around the house that Aaron and Eric don't know about." Sam says. He offers the butterfly knife to Carl's free hand. After a moment, Carl nods and takes it, flicking it open and closed. The damn thing is so mesmerizing.

"You live with them?" Carl asks. Oh, he's finally making conversation without my help. Yay.

"Yeah. They're the ones that found me outside. Eric was the one who wanted to take me in, and Aaron was quick to agree. They makes things a lot easier for me here. Not a lot of people talk to them, y'know."

"Why?" Carl asks.

"Because, even though it's the end of the world, people are still off-put by the fact that they're gay."

"That's idiotic." I nearly growl out. "They're kind-hearted and caring, and they risk their lives, and people judge them because they're gay?!"

Sam gives a grim nod. "Yeah. When they get side-eyed I get the urge to punch something."

"I would, too." Carl agrees.

"There's a reason Enid hasn't told anyone about herself. She's an outsider; they alienate her enough."

"That must suck." I frown. Poor things.

"Wait, Enid's..." Carl starts, his eyes wide.

"I told you you weren't her type." I shrug in his grasp. "I wasn't lying."

"But-"

"Ron doesn't know, and we intend to keep it that way." Sam stares at Carl. Carl gulps, but gives a nod to the silent threat/request.

Sam yawns, stretching his arms above his head. "Well, I don't know about you two, but it's getting pretty late. I'm heading home."

Carl offers the butterfly knife back to Sam as he walks past us. He takes it back graciously. "Night, you two." He opens the door, the light from inside momentarily blinding me. He winks back to us before closing the door.

"Well," I start, leaning into Carls' form, "that went as expected."

"Could've been worse." He looks down to me, and his hands hold my waist tightly.

"Yeah, it could have." I nod. "I was expecting worse."

Carl gives a laugh. "Me too."

By the time the group decides to make it back to our houses, the clock in our living room reads 11:35. Damn, busy night.

I go to head up the stairs after Carl, but Carol pulls me aside.

"What?" I grumble. She and I make our way to the kitchen. I cross my arms across my chest. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to give you this." She pulls something out of her back pocket, handing it to me. My knife!

I gasp, taking it from her vigorously. I look at the blade, finding tiny speck of blood still stuck. "How did you-"

"Don't ask." She shakes her head, giving a small chuckle. "But I though you should have it. To make up for yesterday."

My eyes look to hers. They're hopeful. An apology.

"Truce?" Carol holds her hand out to me. I smile at her, sheathing the blade and shaking her hand.

"Truce."

"Now go, get to bed." She tells me, her hands twisting me around so I face the stairs.

"Good night, Carol." I say, jogging up the stairs.

"Night, Alyssa."

I pull into what I'm assuming is my bedroom (and maybe it's Carls', too?) and quickly toss on some shorts and a tank top. I switch the knife under my pillow, putting mine underneath and setting the steak knife on the nightstand to the right. The side where Carl slept last night. Curiosity peaks in my head. I wonder if the condoms are still in here..? I open the drawer and sure enough, the box is on its side. I push the drawer shut fast, a blush rising on my cheeks faster than I thought possible.

I shut the light off and hop onto my side of the bed, waiting in the darkness to see if Carl would join me again. Sure enough, the door opens and he comes in.

I sit up straight when he sits down beside me, and I grin as I pull out my knife.

"Look at what Carol gave me!" I hold it out to him.

"Nice." He says, sounding a little standoffish. His eyes glaze over the blade, but they aren't as bright as I'd hoped they'd be.

"You're not excited?" I say, my voice level dropping in excitement. My hand lowers the blade, and I shove it back under my pillow. I'm much quieter as I say, "I thought you'd be as happy as me."

"Oh, trust me, I feel the exact same way." Carl repeats my words from earlier, each dripping with jealousy. It hurts to hear.

"Carl, we were talking about knives." I groan.

"I don't care." He says. "You can see why I'd get angry about that, right?" I shrug in response. Wrong move.

"I find my girlfriend talking with some guy she knows I don't like, saying about how she feels the way he does?" He continues, his voice low but hostile. "Especially when I don't get the whole conversation? And those words could mean a million different things?"

"Carl-" I start, but I don't finish. His lips are on mine in an instant. The kiss is hard and possessive, his tongue finding its way in my mouth and I don't fight back for control. His arms snake their way around my waist, pulling me close and twisting me underneath him. His legs are in between mine as I fall back on the bed. He pulls away, leaving me breathless and wanting more.

"You're mine." Carl says, his eyes dark as he looks at me. "Mine."

"I'm yours." I tell him. He kisses a line from my lips down to my chin, onto my neck, and right under my earlobe. I moan loudly as his teeth gently bite on the skin. My hand goes to my mouth, trying to cover the noise up as he does it again and again, only stopping to kiss and lick the patch of skin. His fingers roam the skin just underneath the hem of my shirt, each movement making my skin feel ablaze with his touch.

"Carl." I moan again. He continues his onslaught on my neck, and my hips buck upward without my brain thinking. His follow mine, pressing back down onto me. "Oh, fuck."

One hand tangles in his hair, the other going to his back to pull him closer.

His breath catches in his throat, coming out like a growl as I grind into him again. "Mine."

Damn, I should get him mad more often.

A/N: Hey guys! I just thought we should get right into the chapter, so I didn't put this on top. Sorry for the long wait; my life has been messy the past few months. I graduated high school, we're doing some renovations in my home, and (the largest reason,) my grandmother passed away. I couldn't really bring myself to do anything creative for a good while after she passed, but I'm slowly getting into the swing again. Hopefully this makes up for the wake.

And just one quick thing: The feedback I received from having a lesbian Enid was... mostly good? The first response I got, though, was how it made a person feel uncomfortable. My question to you is: why is it uncomfortable? She's still her own character. I'm not changing her storyline too much (besides the fact that her and Carl are together in the tv show, but that's OBVIOUSLY not happening here,) and it's not like she's going to throw up rainbows whenever she talks. She's still our badass Enid, just a gay badass instead.

Thanks for reading, everyone!