Poor Cat, poor Robbie, poor Tori, poor Beck, poor Jade, poor Trina and André who don't have a really big part in this story…

I don't remember blacking out. I suppose that's why they call it blacking out. You just fade away, and you don't remember. You can't remember. All I could feel was the warm embrace of the boy holding me, the carpet beneath me. It was bliss until I remembered everything else. Until I remembered what happened before I blacked out.

I begrudgingly rubbed my eyes, yesterday's mascara rubbing off on my hand. It was probably in streaks all over my face, as well. I released my clutch on the front of Robbie's shirt and looked at the large classic clock on the wall. Seven. We had an hour to be in Sikowitz's class.

His head was slumped against the wall behind him, his eyes shut tight, arms wrapped around my stomach. "Robbie," I spoke quietly at first, progressively getting louder. "Robbie, wake up."

He slowly started to come to, his arms unwrapping around me. I stood up and held my hand out for him. "Come on, we gotta go to school."

He looked around the room and back up at me. "No."

I retracted my arm. "What do you mean?"

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "You're wearing a pair of my pajamas, you don't have any clothes here, you slept for ten minutes last night, you've been traumatized enough to last a lifetime, we're already late, and we look like monsters who haven't bathed in months."

I looked down at my bare feet. "Oh."

This time he offered his hand to me, pulling me down onto his lap. He returned to his original position, a cocoon around me. Then the offense kicked in.

"You really think I look like a monster?" I asked, crooking my neck to face him.

He smiled lightly. He took my face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the smudges under my eyes. "Yes."

I gasped and pulled away from him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mere," he responded pulling me to him again, resting his lips on my head. "You're beautiful," he mumbled.

I felt my muscles become less tensed, little by little. The dreaded thought of last night occurred to me, filling my mind with unanswered questions. "Where's Tori?" I asked, leaning my head against his shoulder.

"She, uh. She left," he replied, rather vaguely.

Knowing that I wasn't going to get any more answers out of him, I reached into my sweatshirt pocket for my phone. I'd get information myself.

"Who are you calling?" he pestered.

"Beck," I responded smoothly, not wanting to start with the 'which father' confusion.

"Cat," Robbie said in a warning voice. "Do not do anything you're going to regret."

I sighed and looked up at him. The worry in his eyes was subtle, but apparent. I gently hit the end call button on the phone and handed it to him. He was right. I was already in over my head.

He put the light pink accessory in his pocket. "So," he started, taking a breath. "Do you think she's told anybody?"

He was obviously referring to Tori. And I told him the honest truth. "No. I really don't."

He pulled me with him as he stood up, yawning as he did so. "Cat," he took my face in his hands, just like I had done to him last… morning. "From now on, don't let me tell you what to do, okay? It is your life and your decisions. You can do whatever you want," he said, putting his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to him.

I shook my head. "No. I need you. Okay, I'm not making my own decisions anymore. It's too hard, and all I do is screw up and sob violently, so just…"

My lips were silenced as his crashed down on mine, the proximity being my only sweet escape. I kissed him back eagerly, my hands falling on his shoulders. If I could stop time, I would.

But I think we've established that I can't.

Can you believe it's been almost three months since I started this? Hey, readers. You realize that I'm able to look at the traffic stats, right? 300 of you read that last chapter, and it only got four reviews. Knock it off, or you get another hiatus.