FEBRUARY, 1991, OLYMPIA, WA

        REAGAN AWOKE TO the feeling of someone spreading kisses along her face. She could feel soft traces of a familiar pair of lips, caressing her forehead, cheeks, and eyelids as she squirmed beneath the sheets that she was tucked snugly into.

"Mhm," she mumbled, not yet having decided if she was satisfied to have been woken up in this way. When she finally opened her eyes, squinting against the sleep that was clouding her vision, she made out the lines of Dave's face leaning over her.

"Hi," he whispered. He looked as equally tired as she did, his eyes rimmed with faint rings of purple.

"You're up early," she remarked, though it came out as muted grumble. Reagan had yet to barely process that she was even awake, let alone that Dave was hovering over her.

"I know. We've got another studio session booked today. I wanted to see you before we head out."

"Couldn't you have seen me without waking me up?" Reagan groaned, rolling over so that she could stuff her face into the pillow her head had been resting on. In a surprising turn of events, it was she who had the day off for once.

"I guess, but then I wouldn't have had the pleasure of annoying you."

Dave took Reagan halfway into his arms, squeezing her as she hid her face from him. It did not take much of an effort to finally get a giggle out of her. The feeling of him kissing along her bare shoulders and tickling her skin with his warm breath was wonderful. Even though he'd woken her up, that did not defeat the fact that he was there holding her and planting his mouth all along her body. That would have been enough to wake anyone up, or at least Reagan thought so in her own opinion concerning Dave.

"You don't annoy me," Reagan said, turning over and cupping her hand against Dave's neck. He kissed her mouth and she jerked away. They may have been dating for several long months, but she still was not agreeable to the idea of Dave tasting hints of her morning breath.

"I know I do in the mornings. You're so fucking mean when you wake up," Dave said, tilting back his head and laughing.

Scowling, Reagan sat up and scooted herself into his lap. She interlocked her legs around hist waist in an attempt to trap him closer to her, tucking both her arms around his neck and putting her face close to his.

"Take that back," she whispered threateningly, finally starting to feel roused from sleep.

"I'm not that easy to break," Dave grinned.

Although they had only been a real couple since October, Reagan couldn't fight the feeling that somewhere within her subconscious, she had known Dave her whole life. She'd inhabited the fear of how she would behave in a relationship, but with him, she'd never felt so much like herself. He had reached within her and threaded out the best parts of her personality, bringing them to the surface of her every-day routine.

She supposed that her feelings were only fueled by Dave somehow defeating every previous misconception that she'd once had about being with someone. He'd conquered the ultimate feat, which had been meeting her family, and never failed to let her down. He was easy to love, reminding her of something out of a fairytale except only better.

All their momentous moments together had been special. She thought back to his birthday, which had taken place at the start of January. Reagan had excitedly planned Dave's day out, gifting him a new strap for his guitar and even cooking him dinner. Never in her life had she been so excited for someone else's birthday — it brought to light once more the seriousness of her feelings for him.

"Can't you skip the session for today?" Reagan pleaded, though she knew such a proposition was irrational.

"I would if I didn't want to be replaced."

"Come on. They can rehearse without you. I've heard of plenty of bands that are made up of just a lead singer, lead guitarist and bassist. And hey, Kurt is two-in-one as it is."

Dave laughed, both amused and flattered that somewhere beneath her reasonability, Reagan wanted him to stay. He was used to her being her typical responsible self, shunting him off to practice because she knew it was the right thing to do. To even hear her suggest that they break the rules made him want to hold her closer.

"We're working on a new track," Dave explained, tying his arms around her waist as they sat now tangled together in the sheets. "Kurt wrote it."

"Is it good?" Reagan pried. She had a hunch that the song was probably great if it was something written by Kurt. No matter how weird, his lyrics were almost always as intricate and awe-inspiring as his mind was.

"Yeah, it's good. The only complaint we all have is that it sounds like a ripoff of something the Pixies would play."

"And that's a complaint that you all have?"

"Well, you know Kurt. He's critical about his stuff. But it's good, so we're keeping it."

"What's it called?"

"Uhm, 'Smells Like Teen Spirit.' Or something like that. Something with 'teen spirit' in it. Kurt just introduced it the other day and I'm not sure if that's going to be the permanent title or anything."

"Teen spirit?" Reagan repeated, scrunching her face up. "As in 'teen spirit' like the deodorant brand?"

It was Dave's turn to wrinkle his eyebrows with confusion. "Deodorant brand?"

"You know, like the deodorant for girls?" Reagan said, letting loose a small, stuttering laugh. She didn't personally use the brand, but she'd seen Kate smudging it on beneath her underarms in the mornings before school.

"Well, shit," Dave said. "Kurt never mentioned being inspired by deodorant. Though I guess I wouldn't put it past him."

"I highly doubt he got that from the deodorant, Dave."

"Yeah. You're probably right."

"Are you going to tell him?"

Dave looked over his shoulder towards his bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. Reagan imagined that Kurt was probably sitting in the living room right then, waiting for Dave so that they could begin their fifty minute excursion to Tacoma to meet up with Krist.

"Nah," Dave said, chuckling to himself as he smiled. "It's a good song. And I've already got a drum beat down for it. Don't you say anything to him, though."

"Cross my heart," Reagan promised, slashing her finger in an 'X' across her chest. In the back of her mind, she wondered how the rest of Nirvana's listeners would react if the song ended up on their next album. It could end up being laughable to some, but Reagan wished for the best. Likely, the song was not actually be about deodorant — or so she hoped.

Dave stood up from his bed, preparing himself to leave, but Reagan grabbed his hand and tugged him back to her. She jutted her lower lip out and put on her most dismal face.

"I really don't want you to leave. It's my day off," she said.

"You should stay here, then. And I'll see you when we get back from Tacoma tonight," Dave suggested, bending down to kiss Reagan once more.

"Is that an invite to spend the night again?"

"You're always allowed to spend the night with me."

"I practically live with you," Reagan said, though she said it as a somewhat unspoken agreement with herself. Lately, she had ended up in Dave's bed almost every night. It was getting harder to convince Kimberly and Richard that she was sleeping over at Chris's so often, especially when they knew she was seeing Dave, but it was worth the hassle.

"I wish you really did," Dave murmured, kissing against Reagan's forehead as he was drawn back into her embrace. He hesitated before speaking again. "Maybe you could."

Reagan laughed. "I think this apartment is too small for three people, Dave."

"I don't mean here. I mean somewhere else."

Reagan went still, her attention pricked by Dave's out-of-the-blue approach to them possibly living together. It hadn't been what she had expected to come out of his mouth.

"Somewhere else as in . . .?" she probed, meeting his eyes with an urgency for him to continue on.

"I dunno'. What if we left Olympia? I was thinking somewhere in Seattle. Seattle is nice."

Reagan swallowed. A mental picture of Seattle's breathtaking skyline entered her head. She could see visualize every detail. The Space Needle in all its glory with a jagged, snow-capped mountain range in the background. She'd lived her whole life in the state of Washington, dwelling in Olympia since she'd been born. But Dave was right. Seattle would be a good place to live. It had always appealed to her.

"Seattle is nice," she agreed, softening her tone.

"We should do it then," Dave whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. His fingers knotted in her already-matted auburn hair. "You and me. We'll get an apartment together."

She felt her breathing quicken as Dave enthralled her with his idea, summoning visual images of what they would look like if they lived together, just the two of them. Better yet, the concept of them both living in Seattle went in accordance to an even bigger picture for Reagan. She wouldn't have to live with Kimberly and Richard anymore.

"We can't," she said, blinking her eyes rapidly as if to bat away the dreamy things she'd theorized to herself. "What about Nirvana? What about living here, with Kurt?"

"I can still be in Nirvana and live in Seattle," Dave said. "Look at Krist. He lives in Tacoma. Whole different city, and he makes it work. And be real Reagan, Kurt doesn't need me here."

"Yes he does!" Reagan protested. Dave flashed her a confused look, and she suddenly realized that she was alone in her beliefs. She thought of Kurt as too fragile to be alone, though obviously, Dave did not share her opinion.

"No he doesn't. He's a grown dude. And I can only take so much of living in a pet shop," Dave said, alluding to Kurt's collection of animals. He harbored almost every creature under the sun in the apartment, from turtles to rabbits. It was easy to understand how that feature alone could drive someone crazy.

"Okay, fine, so it works out for you. But what about me? I have a job here," Reagan contended.

"What? You couldn't get a new job in Seattle?"

Dave's point deflated Reagan's argument as soon as it was stated. She felt muddled as he said it, mainly because she could see the ways in which he was right. It wouldn't have been impossible for her to quit Wilson's and merely find work elsewhere. People did it all the time, especially people like her who were not tied down to a specific career.

"But my family . . ." she said, trailing off as she reminded Dave of the people who depended on her. She'd almost forgotten on her own that her income was meant to help support her parents and siblings.

Dave sat down on the edge of the bed again and put his hand sympathetically against Reagan's knee. Ever since she had finally confessed about the special nature of her bond with the rest of the Abners, he had been nothing but understanding of Reagan's predicament. Somewhere under his compassion though, Reagan sensed that Dave didn't agree with Kimberly and Richard's way of working her to death. He was a rational guy. That, and he loved her too much to see her suffer.

"You don't have to live with them forever, Reags," Dave said gently. "You've got a life to live, too."

Reagan laid back down against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling and wishing briefly that she could have been born into another family, one that would have treated her as a daughter rather than an employee. As much as she loved her brothers and sisters, their parents always managed to mangle that love and make it strained.

"I can't let them down," she told him, her words hardened. "They depend on me too much. Even Kate . . . if I didn't work, we wouldn't be able to put money aside for her to go to college. And the twins rely on me for almost everything. They all need me in different ways."

"Well, who were you relying on when college became an option for you?" Dave asked impatiently. Reagan was taken aback to hear him say this, as school was not his strong suit and didn't seem like the kind of thing he would promote willingly. And besides, they'd never talked about education before.

"No one. College was never an option for me."

Dave laid himself down next to Reagan, propping his feet up and quietly slipping his hand into hers as he stared at her impassive face, watching while she continued to scrutinize the ceiling. In his usual fashion, he was desperate to solve her problems in any way that he could.

"You could send them money from the new job you'd get in Seattle," he offered lightly.

Reagan gave her head a small shake, rustling her hair atop her pillow. She didn't take her eyes off the ceiling, fearing that tears would pool against her green irises if she looked at Dave. Until she had met him, she'd never realized just how difficult talking about her family out loud was.

"I can't, Dave. Not now. I'm sorry. I wish we could."

He toyed with her fingers, moving them in and out between his own before he bestowed to her what felt like his millionth kiss that day. Despite that number, Reagan felt like she'd never get enough of his physical love, especially when her insides were crumbling under the aching reality of her life.

"One day," he said simply. It was comforting to hear the assuredness in his voice.

"One day," she agreed.

The least that she could do for them both was to pretend, as best as she could, that there was hope.