A/N Sorry for the late update, guys. I had a super busy weekend. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven

My hands were shaking when Fang passed me the pipe.

We were in the same park from the other night, when Fang rescued me from possibly freezing to death. It was me, Fang, Iggy, and Gazzy. No Lissa.

I put the pipe to my lips, flicked the lighter, and inhaled, the smoke burning my throat and lungs on the way down in the best possible way and coating my tongue with an earthy, dirty taste. I let the lighter dangle loosely between my fingers and I held the smoke in until it hurt, then slowly released it. My brain tickled and went hazy at the edges just the slightest bit, and I passed the pipe across the table to Iggy. His fingers brushed against mine as he took it from me, and I let out a small gasp, pulling my hand back and cradling it to my chest as if he had burned me.

He looked at Fang with an eyebrow raised before shrugging and turning towards Gazzy. They began to talk about some show I had never heard of, effectively ignoring me. Thank God.

"Isn't Nudge's birthday on Friday?" Iggy asked suddenly. Fang turned to me, the question lingering between us.

"Uh. Yeah," I said. I rubbed my arms with my hands as a chill creeped across my skin.

"You guys should come over. Our parents are going out of town for some weird teaching workshop," Iggy said. I just shrugged, making a mental note to ask Nudge about it later.

"I'll tell her," I said. "Thanks."

"I can ask her," Gazzy said. "I have her in my chemistry class."

There was an awkward silence, then, and my finger slipped under my jacket sleeve to rub against the scabs forming from when I dug my nails into my skin too hard.

"I haven't gotten high in like, two weeks." I cough, my voice low and awkward. "We should have brought snacks."

"Gotcha covered, new girl," Gazzy said. "There's a stash of Little Debbie in the backseat of my car. I'll grab some, hang on." He handed the pipe off to Fang and jumped up from the wooden picnic table we were seated at, grabbing Iggy by the collar and dragging him along as he jogged towards the parking lot.

Fang puffed twice and then passed it to me. I turned so that I was facing him, straddling the bench. I pulled my legs in to conserve my warmth and lit the pipe again. Smoke curled up around my face, the bowl burning orange as I inhaled deeply. I held the smoke in and set the pipe down on the picnic table, then dug around in my hoodie pocket for the new pack of cigarettes I'd bought. I let the smoke curl out of my mouth as I tapped one out of the pack and put it between my lips. I cupped my hand around the end as I lit it, to keep the wind from blowing my flame out, and took a long pull.

"I used to smoke," Fang said. I raised my eyebrows and puffed a couple of times before responding.

"I thought you said smoking kills."

He laughed. "I said 'used to' didn't I?"

"Want a drag?"

His eyes caught mine and held them, red rimmed and soft. He smiled and nodded.

I pulled the cigarette from between my lips and held it out, the burning tip facing me. Fang went to reach for it, but I jerked it back and shook my head. He put his hand back in his lap and leaned forward, waiting. I tucked it primly between his lips, not letting my skin touch his, and stood up to stretch my legs.

I looked towards the parking lot, where Iggy and Gazzy were leaning into the trunk of Gazzy's car. I could faintly hear them talking, and it sounded like they were arguing.

"Should you go mediate?" I asked, my voice scratchy from the smoke. I tucked my hands in my pockets and rubbed my fingers together, trying to keep them warm. The smell of the cigarette smoke was warm and sweet curling between us. He handed it back to me, and I could see his fingers were just barely shaking.

"Nah. They'll be back."

We each took a couple more hits, silently passing the pipe between ourselves. I finished my cigarette and dropped the butt to the ground. Fang began to roll a joint, letting me finish the bowl, just as Gazzy and Iggy came back, both looking annoyed.

"Dumbass here forgot to put the stuff in the car after we went shopping earlier," Iggy said, jabbing his thumb over his should at Gazzy.

"Whatever, we just have to go home. It's all in the basement, which is where we were going to end up anyways."

Fang huffed a laugh and began packing the things back into the wooden box that they kept everything in, excluding the rolled joint. That, he tucked behind his ear, grinning at me when he caught me staring.

We piled into the car Iggy and Gazzy shared, a little blue Saturn. The inside smelled like cheap air freshener, leather, and weed. Not a bad mixture, if you ask me. Fang and I were in the back seat, our legs pulled into our chests because there was nowhere else to put them what with the sheer amount of garbage cluttering the floor. There was a soft song playing on the radio, but I could barely hear it over the sound of Iggy and Gazzy bickering, which seemed to happen a lot. Fang caught my eye in the low light and he smiled again.

"They're only a year and a half apart. They argue all the time."

"I noticed." My voice was hoarse and slow. My eyes felt heavy, and my head was swimming. I let it fall back against the headrest and closed my eyes. Fang laughed, and I peeked at him.

"What?" I asked.

"Never seen you so relaxed."

"Yes, well, that is one of the many benefits of marijuana."

My stomach rumbled audibly. I winced at Fang's laugh, and shrugged. "And that's a downside. I'm starving."

Luckily, Gazzy and Iggy didn't live far from the park. Iggy parked the car on the street in front of a large house, with a literal picket fence and everything.

I whistled, low and long. "Nice digs, guys." Words were coming easier; I sounded less crazy and more like a 'normal' teenaged girl, just hanging with some 'normal' friends.

Iggy laughed. "Thanks. Our parents come from old money. That's why they can get away with being teachers and live here."

"It's pretty nice during the holdiays," Gazzy said. "We get Christmas cards with hundred dollar bills in them."

We went around the side of the house, through the gate, and into the backyard. There was a stairwell along the side of the house that led down to the basement. The backyard was beautifully landscaped, complete with a covered pool and a garden. The snow laid like a blanket over everything, bathing it in white that sparkled in the moonlight. There was a little wooden swing set that caught my eye, the metal chains glinting like knives.

Gazzy caught me staring at it and said, "Our dad built that when we were kids. My mom watches kids on the weekends so they just never took it down."

"It's beautiful," I replied, my eyes still tracing the swing set.

The three of them moved to go down the stairs, but I stayed where I was. "Would it be okay if I used it?" I asked.

"Be our guest," Iggy said, moving his arm in a wide gesture towards it. He grinned and continued down the stairs, Gazzy at his heels.

Fang passed the wooden box off to Gazzy and waved them off. "You guys go ahead. I'm going to stay up here with her." He pulled the joint out from behind his ear and pressed that into Gazzy's hands too.

The door to the basement opened and shut, and then everything was quiet. Fang studied me with those dark eyes of his. My face felt funny—kind of numb, which was normal for me when I was high. But it made it harder to guard my expression from him. It also made it harder to remember why I had to guard it in the first place.

I broke the silence by crunching through the snow to the swings. I settled into the leather seat and pushed off, flinging ice and rocks. Fang followed and leaned against the wooden pole next to me, his eyes closed and his arms crossed.

"Fang," I said, the word heavy on my tongue. "What's your real name?"

"Nick," he responded, without opening his eyes. "Nicholas. After my dad."

I pumped my legs and didn't say anything back.

"He died."

I froze.

Fang finally opened his eyes. "Didn't mean to tell you that." He frowned.

I swallowed, my skin itching with discomfort. "Will you push me?" I asked, deciding to forgo the subject entirely. The squeak of the chains was too loud, and so was my breathing. I looked up at the stars; the clouds had finally dissipated, finally snowed out. It was dark back here where there were no street lights. I kind of wished I could ask Iggy to turn on the back porch lights, but that felt like asking a lot. I felt Fang's hands against my back and it should've made my skin crawl but the high dulled it.

"Fang."

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever wonder what it's like to die?" My head rolled back so I could look at the stars without the strain of having to hold it up. It also had the added benefit of allowing me to see Fang's upside down face on every upswing.

"No."

I frowned.

"My dad is dead too. And my mom. And my little brother, Ari." I listened to the squeaky chains for a second and then said, "I figured I should say that, since you told me yours."

"You already told me that."

"Yeah but I didn't specify. I said it to shock you, not empathize with you. It's different now."

I looked up again, and it felt like I was closer to the stars than before. It felt like I could reach out and grab one, spikey and hot in my palm. My head felt too light, and my arms and legs felt funny too. "Fang. I'm going to float away."

"Well, you are higher than a kite."

"I'm serious," I said, panic creeping into my voice. "I'm scared. I'm going to float away. Don't let me." I reached behind me and tried to grab onto his arm, but it was wrenched away from me as I floated back towards space.

He grabbed on to the chains and slowed the swing to a stop, then moved so that he was in front of me. He crouched down so that he could look me in the eye, and then he held out his hands. I placed mine in them, momentarily getting distracted at how small mine were compared to his as he closed his fingers around mine.

"You're not going to float away. See? I'm holding on to you. You can't go anywhere if I'm holding on to you because I'm heavier than you."

I laughed, even though it wasn't funny. The fact that it wasn't funny made me laugh harder.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. My voice sounded like it was coming from far away. "I'm scared."

"Don't be. I've got you." He tightened his grip. His hands were cold and my hands were cold but together, skin against skin, they cancelled each other out and became warm.

"I'm always scared. I can't get away from it." I closed my eyes because everything was too much. "It's like a sweater I can't take off. Every morning, when I wake up, I remember and it gets a little tighter."

I pulled my hands away and put them over my ears, but I could still hear the sound of my blood rushing in them. I leaned down and let my head dangle between my knees, hands gripping the sides of my face.

"Do you want to go home?"

I nodded.

"Can you stand up? Do you need help?"

I nodded again. His hands cupped my elbows and pulled me to my feet, holding on just long enough to make sure I was steady before he stepped away. I still felt float-y, but I didn't think I was going to float away anymore. I don't know, maybe it was just too soon to tell.

"I'm not safe," I said. I felt him look down at me, but I didn't meet his gaze. I heard the basement door open and close again, and then Iggy and Gazzy appeared, still smoking. They looked like dragons with smoke falling out of their open mouths and flared nostrils. They moved across the yard to the picnic table by the pool. Iggy laid across the table top and Gazzy sat down heavily on one of the benches. They were laughing about something, but their voices were too low for me to make out any words.

"We're leaving," Fang called out. Iggy gave us a thumbs up, his arms shooting straight up towards the sky.

"We have to walk back to the park, but it's just down the street. Are you going to be okay?"

I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself and shivering. We went back out through the gate, closing it softly behind us. I walked slightly behind Fang, almost huddled against his back. My heart was in my throat, choking me. Sometimes this happened when I was high; my anxiety levels rose off the charts. Tonight was definitely a new high for me, though, no pun intended.

"I'm scared," I whispered into the darkness. The streetlights cast ghoulish shadows, and every time the wind blew it made the trees rustle angrily.

"You're okay," Fang murmured. "We're almost there. See? You can see my truck."

"Okay," I said. He was right; his truck was visible now, parked by the curb across the street from the park. We both picked up the pace. When we finally reached it, I let out the breath I had been holding.

"I still don't feel safe," I muttered, more to myself than to him. Fang unlocked the passenger side door and opened it, but then stepped between me and the car. I looked up, meeting his eyes with what I'm sure was a surprised expression on my face.

"You're safe with me," he said. His knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of my door, still standing between it and the truck, not closing it. "He can't hurt you again."

"As long as he's alive, I'll never be safe.' My mouth tasted stale and my fingers were ice cold. My body was trembling, both from the wind and the fear that was just under the surface of my skin at all times. "Never. I would have to die to feel safe. Or he would."

Fang's face was pale in the moonlight, but it looked like it got paler after I spoke.

The ride home was quiet. It was late; it was past midnight. My eyes were burning, and I'm sure that if I looked in the mirror, they would be bloodshot as hell. Fang's definitely were. As we pulled into his driveway, he cut the engine and turned to look at me.

"Max."

"Yeah?"

"Stay with us. Just until you leave for New York."

"Why do you care so much? Before last Monday, you never even knew my name. So why now?"

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "I don't know." He ran a hand through his dark hair, standing it on end. "Just. Please? It's only two and a half weeks. Angel and my mom like having you around."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you like having me around?"

He stared through the windshield at the quiet street, covered in a blanket of white. After what felt like forever, he nodded. "Yeah."

"Fine. But then I'm gone. And don't expect a post card or any of that shit. I want to disappear." I look down at my hands, so small and useless at protecting me and cold as ice, but so warm when he was holding them. "Forever."

"Deal."