*Sees I haven't updated in four months*

Sorry guys! I got caught up in a long fic for a different fandom, but I promise I haven't forgotten this one! I do plan on finishing this at some point.

Anyhow, here's chapter three.

"Do I need to repeat the question?" Ally hissed when Zane failed to respond.

"I...uh, no. No, I heard you..." he stuttered, trying to think of how to answer her and still make it home in one piece.

"Well, where were you?"

"I was in the restroom," he said finally, taking some comfort in knowing that he wasn't lying. At least, not completely.

"The restroom? All night? With...her."

"I...I don't know what you..."

Ally crossed her arms.

"You know who I'm talking about," she said venomously. "That girl at our table. The one who you claimed was your ex. Looks like you're not quite over her yet, are you?"

"Ally," Zane pleaded. "It's not what it looks like..."

"It's not what it looks like? Are we in some cheesy 90's rom-com? That's what they all say, you asshole," she interrupted, her eyes in slits.

"But it's not wrong. Nothing happened between us. She had a bit much to drink and I'm just helping her out."

Ally shook her head.

"I can't believe you. I go for a drink, can't find my boyfriend, then the power cuts out and its total chaos in there. Did you know that? People are trampling over other people, and all I wanted was to know that you are safe. I come out here and find you...what? Escorting that...whore back to your car..."

"She's not a whore..."

"No," she said, her voice now deceptively calm. "You are."

Ally reached into her purse and threw his wallet on the ground between them.

"You left this on the table, by the way," she said before turning back to the building.

"Ally, wait! Let me..."

"No. I'm going back inside and finishing the gala," she cut in icily.

"But I drove you here. How do you plan on getting home?"

"Uber exists."

She paused briefly.

"Unless..." she shrugged, "...I find a nice young gentlemen who offers me a lift back to his place. Maybe this night won't be a total loss."

Zane felt a shiver run down his spine. He suddenly found it rather hard to breathe.

"Ally...I promise you. Nothing happened."

She shook her head again.

"Don't contact me. When I feel like talking to you, I will call. Goodnight Zane."

And with that, she strutted back into the building, her long blonde hair waving behind her.

This...was not how this night was supposed to go. Part of him wanted to run in after her, to make her understand. But what was he supposed to say?

"Hey Ally, I couldn't join you because I had to calm down my drunk ex who also happens to be a mermaid and almost revealed herself in front of everyone. Oh, and caused that power outage. No big deal."

He groaned, rubbing his temples. There was no way Ally was going to talk to him right now. In fact, he didn't think she wanted to talk to him ever again. Her rather...severe reaction to what she thought was his unfaithfulness to her had some unpleasant implications on its own. In fact, she didn't seem sad about it. Upset? Yes. Angry? Certainly. But there were no tears. She didn't really prod him for an explanation. And now she was back inside the gala, waiting for the next young male socialite to bring her to his bed.

Now he was mad.

But there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

Zane sighed, making his way back to the car with his now dirt covered wallet.

Rikki's head was nestled in the palm of her hand, and her eyes were half closed.

"She sounded upset," she mumbled.

"You think?"

Zane turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot.

He could see Rikki's eyes boring into his.

"I'm sorry," she finally said. "You could go back in. I'll find my own way home."

"You're drunk," he responded, purposefully not making eye contact with her. "I couldn't live with myself if I left you here and something happened to you."

She gave him a half smile.

"You're a good person, Zane Bennet. And idiot, but a good person."

Thanks?

A moment of silence passed in the car, and Zane was tempted to call Ally again, though he knew it would ultimately go to voicemail. He hated the idea of a bunch of rich 40 somethings hitting up his girlfriend, touching her, flirting with her, dancing with her. But then again, maybe it's what she wanted all along.

Looking back, Ally never really seemed to be happy with him. Oh, she pretended all right. She went to his business dinners, sat through his practice speeches, rubbed elbows with important people who she had never heard of. She did everything she was supposed to do as his girlfriend.

But she was never happy.

And...neither was he.

He sighed, turning to Rikki. Her eyes were closed, and he realized at some point she must have fallen asleep.

"Zane? Zane, wake up!"

He jolted awake.

"Huh?"

"Over here."

Rikki was pulling herself halfway through his bedroom window.

His eyes widened.

"Rik? What...how...this is a second story bedroom?"

She smirked.

"I have my ways."

She leaped in and slammed the window shut before sauntering over to his bedside. She was wearing no pajamas, just the same pink tank top and cargo pants she wore to school.

Zane frowned.

"Did you go home at all today?"

She ignored him, leaning in and leaving a trail of kisses on his jawline.

"Rik," he said again, putting his hands on her shoulders are gently forcing her back.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she snapped. "What's the problem? Don't you want to see me?"

"Of course I do...but won't your dad miss you? What if you get into trouble? He already hates me..."

"It won't be a problem," she interrupted. "He's not home anyways."

"Work?"

She shrugged, averting her gaze.

"He's just not around much anymore. It's not a big deal."

He pulled her back in, letting her head rest against his chest as he squeezed her shoulder.

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?"

She looked up.

"Won't your dad freak?"

He shrugged.

"My old man isn't here either."

She gave him a smile, a soft one, but a beautiful one.

"And hey," he continued, "at the very least I can get you a nice pair of pajamas. Candy only buys the best."

She pulled him in for another kiss.

"I love you, Zane Bennet."

The memory ended as quickly as it started. The was the first time she said she loved him. It was the first time...well, it was their first time.

Two lonely teenagers with drastically different backgrounds finding companionship in each other.

How did it go so badly wrong?

No.

How did he let it go so badly wrong?

He pulled into his driveway, his brain cluttered with so many different emotions that he hadn't felt in a long time.

He didn't bother trying to drive Rikki home. He had no idea where she lived after her move from her father's trailer, and he doubted if she was sober enough to give her directions anyway.

"Rikki?" he said gently, shaking her shoulder.

She jerked, blinking open her eyes.

"We're at my house. Are you okay with staying the night here?"

She stared blankly at him for a second, probably trying to compute what he just said in her fuzzy, alcohol infused head.

She eventually nodded, and he helped her get out of the car.

"Your house looks different," she mumbled, leaning heavily against him.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "You've never been here before."

"Oh."

His house was a mess, to be honest. Zane was a natural slob, and the floor was littered with used socks, dinner plates and crumbled up t-shirts that posed a distinct contrast to the ornate walls and stainless steel kitchen.

He guided her upstairs to the guest room and laid out a couple of spare t-shirts and shorts that she could change into.

"If you need help, just ask."

She gave him another weak nod, and he left the room to go get her a glass of water that might help with morning hangovers.

By the time he got back to the room, the door was closed.

He knocked gently.

"Rikki?" he asked.

There was no answer.

He knew that she was probably fine, but his paranoia overruled any course of logic.

What if she wasn't fine?

What if she tripped and banged her head and was bleeding out?

What if she choked on her own vomit and suffocated?

What if...

He shook his head.

She was fine. She had to be fine.

But it wouldn't hurt to check, right?

He entered the room slowly with glass of water in hand.

Rikki lay sprawled out on top of the bed sheets, still in her blue dress.

At least she managed to take her shoes off.

He inched over, checking her pulse and watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.

She was fine.

Placing the glass of water on the nightstand, he proceeded to grab a blanket from the closet and drape it over her before again leaving the room.

Leaning against the wall in the hallway, he checked his phone to see if Allison had texted him.

It was going to be a long night.