Song: Don't Stop Believing by Journey. Don't judge me. I absolutely love this song. It always makes me smile.

I woke up, nestled in a thick blanket. It smelled good, like... like Wesley. My eyes widened and I sat up too quickly, blood rushing to my head. I groaned and lay back down.

There was a chuckle from somewhere to my far left. I propped myself up on my elbows and surveyed my surroundings.

The bed I was sitting in was huge. It could've fit five people comfortably. It was on an elevated platform along with a black dresser and two glass doors that led to a balcony. Past the foot of the bed, and the edge of the platform, was an array of musical instruments. There was a shiny, black, baby grande piano, its top propped open. Next to it, against the wall were various guitars and basses.

Perched on an amp, towards the center of the music area, was Wesley, holding an acoustic guitar that he'd obviously been playing.

"You play guitar?" I asked dumb-founded. Then I mentally kicked myself. Out of all the questions I could've asked.

Wesley smiled at me, eyes twinkling. "Yeah, I play guitar, bass and piano. But mostly guitar."

"Who would've thunk?" I croaked. I sat up, pushing the blanket back. Suddenly, everything came flooding back.

"You okay, Delilah?" Wesley put the guitar back on its stand and strode over to the bed.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I had a panic attack in front of the whole school, was saved by Wesley Hannigan who I didn't think even knew my name and woke up in his bed. I'm just a tad overwhelmed. Also your girlfriend is going to kill me for being within a ten-foot diameter of you."

Wesley's eyebrows scrunched together, making him look really cute. Yes, I noticed. Don't judge me. "Girlfriend? You mean Aimee?" he asked.

I nodded. "She threatened me because we had one conversation. Can you believe it? The nerve."

"Aimee's not my girlfriend," he muttered.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Really? Does she know that?"

"I thought she did. We just kiss sometimes. Actually, she kisses me sometimes. We've never even been out on a date." Wesley looked so adorably confused.

"Well, the entire school thinks you two are together," I informed him. "Anyway, thank you. For saving me." I stood up and threw my arms around his waist without thinking about what I was doing.

He stiffened but soon wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest. I marveled at how muscular it was.

I stepped back and poked Wesley's chest. "How does one become so muscular?" I asked honestly, looking up at him.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a smirk. "Join the football team, and you'll know."

"Eh, I like my unmuscular self. I wouldn't want to give up my precious hours of doing nothing except binge-watching shows on Netflix and eating popcorn," I shrugged. "Holy Satan, I must look like crap."

Wesley laughed at me. "You look fine. There's a bathroom around the corner," he said, pointing deeper into his room.

"Jeez. How big is your room?" I hadn't noticed that his bedroom was an L shape and there was more to it than I'd already seen.

"Big. I'm gonna get us something to eat. You can make yourself comfortable. I left you a t-shirt of mine and a pair of my mother's leggings in the bathroom in case you wanted to shower and change."

"Wow. Thanks a ton," I told him.

"No problem," he waved nonchalantly.

We walked around the corner together. There was a sitting area with two couches, a recliner, a television, a coffee table and a rather large book case stuffed with books and encyclopedias. On our right was the door leading to Wesley's bathroom and on the opposite wall was the door leading to the rest of his house.

"I'll be back soon," he reassured me.

"Okay. Thanks again," I smiled at him before pushing the door open into the bathroom.

I froze. This was an incredible bathroom. It had a floor, ceiling and walls that were blue tile. A mirror that spanned the whole right wall hung above a counter that held two sinks, underneath which was a row of cupboards and drawers. On the rest of the counter lay the shirt and leggings for me along with various hair products.

In the far corner on the left was the shower which was very roomy. Next to it stood the toilet. It was the bathtub, though, that was the coolest. You had to walk up stairs to reach it and it looked sort of like a Jacuzzi. It probably had all kinds of cool features.

I looked into the mirror and cringed. My hair and make-up were a mess. Wesley had left a hair brush on the folded clothes. I picked it up and brushed through my hair, wincing occasionally. When I'd finally gotten all the knots out, I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower.

It was heavenly. The water pressure was perfect and I let it loosen up the taut muscles in my back, slowly relaxing my body. The shampoo and conditioner he'd left smelled wonderfully masculine. I'd always preferred the smell of masculine to feminine body products.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in one of the fluffy towels hanging on the rack between the shower and bathtub. I brushed through my hair again before putting it up in another towel. After putting on the clothes, I let my wet hair tumble around my shoulders, my fringe falling into my eyes. I tossed the towels into the hamper next to the door, picked up my clothes and walked back into Wesley's room.

He wasn't back yet, so I set my clothes on the couch that also held my backpack and AP stats textbook. Then I wandered over the music corner.

I sat down at the piano bench and pushed the piano cover back. The keys were so shiny and beautiful. I pressed the A key and it made such a satisfying noise that I actually sighed.

Then, before I could stop myself, I was playing Don't Stop Believing and singing at the top of my lungs. I let everything else fall away, forgetting that I was in Wesley Hannigan's house.

Suddenly, an electric guitar joined the piano and Wesley's voice harmonized with mine. I didn't allow myself to falter. We played the rest of the song together, Wesley taking the lead, and me taking the background chord, both of us singing as loudly as we could.

By the time we reached the end, were both out of breath and laughing so hard we were basically crying.

"You play piano?" Wesley asked when he'd calmed down.

I nodded, wiping my eyes. "Since I was ten."

"We sounded good together," he said, putting the electric guitar back in the stand but leaving it plugged into the amplifier.

"Huh, I guess we did," I slid the top of the piano back in place. I caught the scent of freshly made waffles. "Food?" I asked, my mouth watering.

"Yeah," Wesley laughed, pointing at the sitting area.

I practically ran to the couches, plopping down on the one facing the TV. Two plates of waffles sat before me.

"Go ahead and start," Wesley said, walking toward the TV. "Do you like the Hobbit? I was going to watch the last one because I just got the DVD."

"Mmph," I said around my mouthful of waffles and syrup.

"Alright, the Hobbit it is," Wesley laughed, correctly taking my grunt as a yes.

He sat down next to me as the main menu came up.

"Oh my Gollum. You have surround sound. This is gonna be awesome," I leaned back, readying myself for the epic finale of the movie trilogy. I'd already seen it in the theater but I could watch the Hobbit movies forever and not get tired of them.

"Hell yeah," Wesley agreed, digging in.

After I finished my waffles, I curled up against the side of the couch, watching as Thorin continued being an ass hat. Before I knew it, my eyelids were growing heavy.

Just before I drifted off to sleep, I realized that this was the happiest I'd been since my mom left. I also realized that I didn't want to stop feeling this happiness.