I dash down the hallway to where Miles is watching TV on the couch. He looks at me as I enter the room, and a look of worry clouds his face.

"What's wrong?"

I blow out some air through tight lips, then bite my tongue. I don't know what to tell him. "I...I have to go to my mom's."

Miles stands up, clicking off the TV. "What's. Wrong," he demands, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I left my meds at my mom's house," I blurt out. I clench my fists. This cannot be happening. I'm about to have a freak-out moment, and I don't have my medicine. I run my fingers through my hair.

Miles jingles his keys. "Get in the car. I'll drive you."

I sigh in relief. Miles is so much better than my mother. I follow him out the door, down the hallway to the elevator, then finally out the doors of the lobby. His car is parked in the reserved area for his apartment number, and he unlocks it quickly.

The drive takes about twenty minutes because the traffic sucks in Los Angeles, and soon we have pulled up at the doors of my mother's mansion. I walk up the stone steps, then, taking a deep breath, ring the doorbell.

A few seconds later, it is opened by my mom. She is dressed in a scandalous crop top, denim shorts, and house sandals. Her makeup is smeared and she looks a little drunk.

"What are you doing back here?" She has a sassy tone to her voice. I wonder why she answered the door, and not Alex.

"Umm," I stammer.

"I thought you were going to stay with Miles." She starts to close the door, but I grab her hand. She stares at me in shock, and I stare back.

"I left my pills here," I say firmly. I step into the room, then dash past her.

"You left your what?" My mother gives me an odd expression and then beckons for me to follow her. She leads me down the hallway to the bathroom, and I open the cabinet. Rummaging through, I finally extract my small bottle. Alex had helped me buy it since my mom had still been determined that I was mental.

I stuff into my pocket, then push past my mother. I join Miles in the car, keeping my visit short. I need to get back to his apartment so I can take the pills.

I thank him before I dash down the hallway to my room, closing the door behind me.I flop down on the bed, opening the small bottle. I place three on my tongue, then swallow.

Suddenly, my phone rings.

I see Nick's number, and I hold up the phone to my ear. "Hey, Nick."

"Hey, babe. Are you free tonight?" He asks.

Miles raises his eyebrows in question. I mouth "I'll explain."

"I think so," I reply. "One sec." I place my hand on the phone, then turn to Miles. "Is it okay I go somewhere with my...boyfriend?"

Miles chuckles. " Sure," he replies, shrugging.

I grin, then put the phone against my ear again. "Where do you want to go?"

Twenty minutes later, Nick pulls up in front of the apartment building. I dash the hallway and down the stairs. Nick appears in front of me as I enter the lobby, grabbing my hand. I stare up at him, and he smiles down at me.

I swallow as he leads me out the door to the car. I sit in the passenger's seat and him in the driver's. He pulls out of the parking lot and begins driving suckle down the road.

After a few minutes, he turns to me. "So, how have you been, Mikes?"

I shrug. "Okay, I guess."

He chuckles.

In a matter of seconds, we have arrived at a fancy-looking restaurant. The neon sign reads Razzi's Pizza. I have heard about this place a few times in the paper. Apparently they have a five-star rating and great reviews.

I step out of the car, Nick beside me. My stomach rumbles. We begin to walk towards the doors.

My heart sinks as I see reporters flocking the entrance as other important people enter. Nick must have notices my displease, for he grabs my hand and pulls me around the corner to a back door. I grin at him, and he smiles back.

Nick pushes open the swinging door, and nods at one of the waitresses. She swallows, then beckons for us to follow her. She leads us through a sea of tables to a booth in the corner. There is an Italian painting hanging on the wall above my head as I sit down.

"My name is Marrisa," the woman says, smiling. "I will be your server tonight."

I nod at her, then pick up the menu. Not only are there pizzas, but there is an immense selection of spaghetti, sandwiches and other Italian foods.

"I would like a large cheese pizza with pepperoni and pineapples," Nick announces. The waitress writes down his order. "Also a small sandwich with lettuce, sausages, and tomatoes.

Not used to the pressure, I mumble, "I'll have a regular cheese pizza."

The server acknowledges this, then turns to head back to the kitchen.

"You must be pretty hungry," I comment.

Nick laughs. "I haven't eaten since lunch!"

I giggle. Nick makes me feel so comfortable. Whenever I'm with him, I forget about all the drama that is happening in my life. I forget about the problems with my mom, my anxiety, and........boys.

Norman. Oh crap. How am I going to tell Nick about him?

"So, what's it like at your dad's?" He asks.

Thankful for a subject change, I respond. "Fine. It's much better than my mom's."

Nick smiles. He extends his hand and places it on mine. "I'm glad you're happy."