DINNER WITH HUNTER and my family is a hellish experience to say the least.

By some miracle, Jayden gets out of family dinner because he has to work. Which means that I don't have to deal with his knowing looks or vague half-threats while we're eating, for which I am eternally grateful.

Of course, my mom seems to be just as entranced by Hunter's pretty face and faux-chivalrous attitude. I mean, the guy even insisted he help my grandmother set the table and bring the food out of the kitchen.

Who is he, and what did he do with the asshole I've spent the last two weeks of my life loathing?

"So, Hunter, do you have any plans for the rest of your evening?" My mother asks as she's clearing away the dessert dishes from the table. She's already learned everything their is to know about the boy sitting across from me, including, but not limited to, his plans for next year, how his parents are, what he thinks of growing up in Rock Valley, and what his favorite color is.

I'm sure most of what he's spewed has been lies, polished and reworded to make him seem like a freaking angel incarnate, but I still fix him with a dangerous look as soon as my mom turns her back.

I wouldn't put it past him to start telling the truth now, just to watch me suffer the wrath of my doting mother.

He smirks in my direction, watching me intently as he replies. "I have plans actually, Ms. Mantalos. A friend of mine over in Huntsville is throwing a party. I was supposed to drive out with a couple of my friends, but they bailed on me a few hours ago."

I purse my lips together in a line, holding back the urge to kick him under the table. "Well, that sucks," I tell him, faking sympathy. "Guess you'll just have to go by yourself."

Unfortunately, my grandmother chooses that moment to look up from the food she's been piling into containers. "What about that date of yours you mentioned earlier, young man?"

Hunter, whose back is to both of the women in the kitchen, shoots me a sly wink and turns to get up from his chair. "Apparently there's some weird flu bug going around her church group. She says she's too sick to go out tonight."

The fact that they can't see through his blatant act astounds me.

"Well that's just horrible," Grandma tuts, putting the final lid on her assortment of containers.

Hunter shrugs, picking up a stack containers and taking them over to the refrigerator. "It's fine, really. I guess I'll just stay home and work on my English paper. Might as well get a head start on it."

"Nonsense!" Mom exclaims, dismissing his idea with a wave of her hand. "Peyton, sweetheart, why don't you go along with him?"

My eyes widen as the dagger of betrayal pierced through my heart. "What? No! I don't even know these people."

"What does that matter?" My mom asks with a shake of her head. "You can't hardly tell me you knew all those people you used to go out with in New York. Nobody knows that many people, honey."

"So? That was New York," I retort, crossing my arms deviantly across my chest. "I thought you wanted me to not do that here."

Mom simply rolls her eyes. "You can still be social, Peyton. It's Friday night, go have some fun. Just make sure you're on time for work tomorrow."

My eyebrows shoot up. "What? You're just sending me off to another city with a guy Grandma brought home for dinner, and you're not even going to give me a ridiculous curfew?"

"Do you want one?" She counters, crossing her arms and looking at me expectantly.

Before I can close my gaping mouth, Hunter has the decency to pipe in. "It's fine, Ms. Mantalos, really. I'd hate to drag Peyton out if she isn't going to enjoy herself."

My mom lets out a laugh. "Oh, she's just being stubborn. Isn't that right, Peyton?"

That expectant expression has returned, one eyebrow arched as if she's waiting for me to cave. This whole maternal thing might be new to my mom, but she's nothing if not her own mother's daughter.

I heave a frustrated defeated sigh, knowing one way or the other, I'll never hear the end of it, I shove my chair away from the table and force a smile. "I'll go get changed."

Mom gives a content nod of her head before turning back to the dishes alongside my grandma.

Hunter's overly pleased grin is the last thing I see before I turn and stomp my way up the staircase to my room.

"I hate you."

Beside the country music whining through the speakers and the sound of my blood boiling in my veins, very little sound had been made over the last forty minutes we had spent in his truck.

Aside from those three little words I'd uttered about seven times.

Hunter simply rolled his eyes, ignoring my petty fury and focusing his eyes on the quiet highway stretched out in front of us.

After I'd changed into a relatively plain outfit— all black of course, to reflect my thoughts and opinions of this outing— I'd returned downstairs to find Jayden just arriving home from work. He'd given me a sly grin when he saw Hunter, giving me every idea that blackmail would be in my very imminent future.

That's alright though. I live and breathe for that shit.

Finally, I see the shimmering lights of a small city illuminate the darkness before us. It's only been a couple of weeks since I left New York for literal greener pastures, and while I don't particularly miss the traffic or the noise, I do miss the lights and the life only the city has to offer.

Huntsville is minuscule compared to NYC, sure, but it's still more lively than little Rock Valley.

"Alright," I huff, breaking my own silent treatment. "Who are these friends of yours?"

Hunter pulls up to a stop light, the old truck shuddering to a halt as he turns to look at me. "So, you do speak. Here I was thinking I'd finally rendered you speechless."

I flip him off with one hand, my eyes narrowing into a spiteful glare. "Well, if you hadn't pulled that shit with my mom, maybe I would've been a little more chatty."

He put the truck into gear as the light turned green. "Suck it up, Skirt," he says, shaking his head as his voice takes on a more serious note. "I didn't do that to piss you off, if that's what you're thinking. I know you've got some image of me in your head, that I'm a total jackass or something. You're not entirely wrong, but I'll have you know I draw a line at driving a girl out of town without her parents knowing where she is."

My teeth sink into my lip as I mull over his words in my head. After a moment, I sigh loudly and nod my head. "Okay, fine. That makes sense. But next time, could you maybe just tell me that instead of springing it on me in front of my mom and my grandma? That was a dick move."

This time, Hunter's smile is wide and honest, no hint of his usual smugness. "You've got a deal, Skirt."

I didn't expect an apology, so I'm not disappointed by his lack of remorse. Instead, I reiterate my original question. "Tell me about your friends, before I show up at their house and don't have a clue who I'm talking to."

"Fair enough," he chuckles, turning onto a side street. "Cameron and Tomas used to go to school with us a while back, but they moved away a few years ago. Tomas goes to the community college here, and Cam's still a senior, like us."

I nod my head in response. "Liza mentioned a guy named Cameron when we were talking earlier. Sounded kind of like a douche."

The side of Hunter's mouth quirks up in a smile. "Oh yeah? Did she happen to mention they used to be great friends?"

I look over at him, surprise painted on my face. "No."

"Good, 'cause they weren't," he grins smugly. "Those two were like oil and water. They pretty much despise each other."

"It sounds like there's a decent story there," I say wearily, my eyes narrowed as if I could actually see if there was truth the what he was saying.

"Another day, Skirt. Another day."

Hunter chuckles to himself quietly as he pulls the truck on to a side street. Not far ahead, I can see a lineup of cars parked in front of a townhouse, some dark and silent, others with teenagers pouring out of the doors and trekking across the front lawn.

He pulls in behind a dark Civic and kills the engine before turning to face me, that charming smirk of his twisting at his lips. In times like these, I have to admit that Hunter Maddox is a charming, incredibly attractive son-of-a-bitch— and he knows it. But I don't let his smiles and his flirtations wear me down.

"Ready to show everyone how in love with me you are?"

I snort a laugh, my hand going to the door handle. "It's called acting, Maddox. And I'll have you know, I'm a very good actress."

Inside, the party is exactly what I imaged a small city house-party to be like, right down to having to bring your own booze. Thankfully, Hunter did just that, having thrown a six-pack and and few cans of cheap margarita in a cooler in the back of his pickup.

The townhouse isn't necessarily packed, a good majority of the teenagers were hanging around in the backyard. Red solo cups litter the counters and tables, and there's the odd body kicked back on a sofa or chair. But it's far from the rowdy parties I attended back in New York.

Hunter has his arm wrapped around my waist. His hand is a little lower than I'd like, but I remind myself I should be grateful he's still going along with this. He just makes it difficult sometimes.

I'm clutching my half-empty drink in one hand and plastering a smile on my face, the kind of smile that makes it look like I'm so happy to be here. Deep down, I might be a little happy to be out of the house on a Friday night. It's what I'm used to.

"Hey Cam!" Hunter yells after a while, flagging down a guy our age just as he walks out of the kitchen.

There's music playing over a stereo system in the living room, but the guy still hears his name being called. His head snaps up, and when he sees the guy calling for him, he grins.

It only takes Cameron a few strides to reach us. "Well, I'll be damned! If it isn't Hunter fucking Maddox."

Hunter fixes his friend with a crooked smile, letting go of me for a moment to greet his friend with one of those stupid bro-hug things I've seen my brother start picking up on. When the two of them separate, he rocks back on his heels. "Been a while, Cam. It's good to see you."

"Ha! And here I was thinking that shitty little town might have swallowed you up. You don't call, you don't text. Not even a sappy love letter, babe," the guy in front of us snickers, arm crossed over his chest like he's had his heart ripped out. He's also looking way to humored by his own theatrics.

I'm definitely a third-wheel to this conversation. I'm standing just behind Hunter's shoulder, sipping my drink and watching the two boys catch up in a matter of a few sentences. It's easy conversation, the language of teenage boys not hard to understand. Cameron tells Hunter about a handful of interesting events he's missed while he's been holed up in Rock Valley. In turn, Hunter fills his friend in about all the girly gossip he hasn't heard about.

"You're shitty me," Cameron cackles. "There's no way Adam had the balls to knock-up a teacher."

Hunter only shrugs. "Oh, hell no. But he's very insistent on the whole school thinking he did."

Cameron laughs again, and for the first time it seems, he notices the tall brunette standing just behind his friend. His reaction isn't one I'm unfamiliar with with. His eyes give me a very slow once over, and his grin morphs into a more charming variation of Hunter's stupid smirk.

"Well, hello there sweetheart. I don't think I've seen you around these parts before," he drawls.

Yep. He just said that.

"That's because I'm not from around here," I smile sweetly, tipping back the rest of my drink. It's a poor excuse for flirting, but it's just enough to make Hunter shoot me a look. Mission accomplished.

"Down boy," Hunter tells his friend, side-stepping to allow me to join the two of them. Once I'm settled in beside him, he tucks me under his arm. "I'm gonna have to ask you nicely to stop hitting on my girlfriend."

Cameron arches an eyebrow, giving me a quicker, and less sleazy, once over, before turning his sights back on Hunter. "She's your girlfriend?"

Hunter ignores him. "Peyton, this is my friend Cameron Wilson," he says, waving a hand at the other boy. "Cam, this is my girlfriend, Peyton Church."

Cameron Wilson is the epitome of a popular senior and the embodiment of tall, dark and handsome. He towers over me, which isn't very common, grinning at the girl on his friend's arm like he doesn't believe a damn thing coming out of Hunter's mouth. And he calls him on it.

"Bullshit, bro. There's no way a girl that looks like that puts up with a guy like you unless she's charging a premium hourly rate," he says, a boom of a laugh very easy to hear in the noisy room. 

"Are you calling my girlfriend a hooker, Cam?"

I raise an expectant eyebrow in Cameron's direction, intrigued to see how he pulls himself out of this one. Only, he doesn't.

"Nah, man. He's calling you a liar."

The latest comment comes from another guy, a redhead, whose just joined in on our little conversation. He's not as tall as Cameron, but he's easily six feet. With broad shoulders and easily defined biceps, he looks like a promising linebacker.

"Exactly," Cameron smirks, hooking a thumb in the direction of the newcomer. "What Tommy said."

The redheaded guy grumbles, his lip pulling back in a grimace. "I saved your ass. The least you could do is not call me that piece-of-shit nickname, asshole."

Cameron snickers, but ignores him.

Hunter's arm slides around my waist, pulling me against his side. "That's Tomas, but you can call him Tommy. I'm pretty sure he's less likely to use a pretty head like yours as a football."

The glare I shoot him is brief, before I turn my gaze on Tomas. "Peyton. It's nice to meet you both."

Tomas grins, one that is far less leering than the one Cameron has turned on me. "Nice to meet you too, Peyton. Now pardon me, but I gotta ask, what the hell are you doing with this guy?"

"Excuse me?" Hunter gawks, looking rather annoyed with his friends.

Tomas waved a hand in my direction. "This girl is gorgeous, Hunt, in case you hadn't realized that. And she's got manners. So what in the ever-loving fuck is she doing with the likes of you?"

Hunter grumbles something that sounds a lot like a string of curse words, but I laugh. Not a fake one, meant to impress his friends, but a really laugh.

These are the first people, aside from my friends, who think I'm the crazy one for dating Hunter. And while they might not be wrong, I may be crazy, I've become accustomed to people thinking Hunter has lost his mind by shacking up with the new girl.

It's refreshing, really.

But, I'll admit, pretending to date Hunter hasn't been terrible. Is he a pain in the ass? Yes. Is he annoying as all hell? Absolutely. Does he go out of his way to make things uncomfortable for me? Sometimes. But he hasn't actually done anything bad or wrong. He makes comments and innuendos, but he hasn't actually made a move on me outside of kissing me just to piss me off.

So, I guess the least I can do is play along for the sake of his out-of-town reputation.

"Actually, he is telling the truth," I smile, settling ever-so-slightly closer into Hunter's side. "I just moved to Rock Valley a couple of weeks ago."

Cameron and Tomas look a bit surprised, but when Hunter shoots them a "told-you-so" look, they look at each other and shake their heads.

I can't resist. "And, I mean, it's not like there's that many options in Rock Valley."

That earns me a glare from Hunter, but the other two boys find it hilarious, laughing their asses off and earning some pretty concerned looks from other partygoers.

With that, Cameron and Tomas shrug it off, choosing to just roll with it. In their minds, I'm guessing they've come to the conclusion that we're just for show— I'm a pretty girl for Hunter to have on his arm to warn off his adoring female classmates, and I get an easy lay out of it, choosing one of the more decent looking options in Rock Valley's small population of teenage boys.

Sexist, and somewhat offensive, sure. But what's the alternative?

The guys invite us out into the backyard, and despite the chill in the air, we agree. Thankfully, there's a fire pit burning on the patio, and Cameron kicks a couple of teenagers off the outdoor couches. They glare, entirely offended that he's interrupted their make-out sessions, but Cameron frankly does not seem to give a damn.

The four of us settle in, Tomas claiming a cushioned wicker chair, while I'm sandwiched between a grinning Cameron and Hunter. He grouches about Cameron not giving a shit about boundaries, but cracks a bit of a smirk when I squeeze in closer to him.

The guy's hot in more ways than one, okay?

We chat for a while, the boys asking me questions and telling stories. We sip at our drinks and, generally, I find myself actually enjoying this party. That is, until Cameron leans back, smirking my way, and mentions a certain someone's name.

"So, Peyton. I guess you've met Clary then?"

I can't stop my face from screwing up. What can I say? The very sound of her name pisses me off. With a grumble, I down the rest of my drink and lean forward to set it on the table. "That psycho bitch with the nasty dye job and a serious matriarchal complex? Yup. I've had the great pleasure."

"Is that actually a thing?"

"No. But everything starts with one person."

Hunter chuckles beside me, trying to cover it with his beer. But he forgets I can feel his chest vibrating against my shoulder. "What?" I hiss, narrowing my gaze at him.

Cameron does little better to hide his cackling.

"What?" I ask louder, waiting for someone to tell me what the hell was so funny about that.

Cameron hooks a thumb in Tomas' direction, who's shaking his head at his friends. "I don't think Hunt properly introduced you two. Peyton, this is Tomas Lester."

It takes me a second to grasp what the boy beside me it saying. When it clicks, my mouth pops open with a quiet, "fuck," which seems to only add fuel to the hysterical fire of the boys beside me.

"I'm sorry, Tomas, really," I reel, backing over my previous comment. "I honestly had no idea she was your sister—"

"Cousin," Hunter corrects quietly, in no way jumping to my defence.

"Your cousin, right," I continue, making a note to smack him for this later. "Seriously, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm so sorry."

It's silent between the lot of us for a moment. But not too long, as Tomas shakes his head quickly, sputtering a laugh. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it. It's cool. Crazy bitch is adopted, I swear."

Cameron and Hunter start laughing again, not bothering to control themselves. Soon, I join in too.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll survive in this town until graduation.

Guess what? I'm not dead!

I haven't forgotten about y'all, I swear. But, unfortunately, I do have school until September, so updates aren't gonna be regular or on a schedule of any kind.
They'll be sporadic, they'll be rare, and as a reminder THEY WILL BE UNEDITED!
It had to be said, okay. It just did.
Until next time, here's a Grant Gustin GIF. There's no reason, he's just adorable.

Lots of love...