The fierce heat that swept over Quinn's body convinced her she was on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Between her full body sweats, pounding head, and severe nausea, she welcomed the destruction as a means to her agony's end.

She wrestled away her comforter and thrashed about, casting her clothes to the floor in a last-ditch effort for air. Quinn flipped her pillow to the cool side and flopped onto it with a grimace. As the ceiling spun on an endless loop, her eyes shut tight to tame the vomit churning in her belly. By the time she convinced herself to pry them open, it wasn't the gyrating room that demanded her attention but the shadow figure that scattered across her curtains.

With her bedside table's assistance, she hoisted herself to her feet, grabbing her robe on her journey to the window. She bit the bullet by letting the morning sun eradicate the darkness and sear her retinas in one swoop. Quinn was mid-wince when her gaze fell on a pair of green eyes full of more life than the sun.

Charlie wore an apologetic smile. "Did I wake you?"

Only then did Quinn recall last night's events. The blaring music and sub-par party snacks came to mind, but none more than the endless alcohol. The recollection worked in unison to overwhelm each of her senses. She needed no longer wonder where her balance went—she must've left it back at the party.

Quinn's eyes flickered to her bedroom door. Upon sensing no activity on the other side, she lifted the window wide enough for Charlie to climb through.

He shook his head and minded his voice. "I can't come in."

"You came over at the crack of dawn just to not come inside?" She peeked at the driveway where Paloma and Ava's cars sat idly side-by-side. "Hurry before they catch you."

Charlie wasn't sure how long his makeshift step stool composed of some soggy boxes he spotted on the Sullivan's curb could support his weight, so he accepted the invitation.

Quinn took the opportunity to draw her robe closer and tousle her hair into some semblance of order. She snatched a perfume bottle from her dresser and doused herself from head to toe. Her tongue lapped at her teeth, and she all but gagged at the sour taste. So, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and spritzed the fragrance into her mouth, which was just as revolting as anticipated.

After catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she could only pray she smelled better than she looked. Banishing the bottle to her closet, she faced Charlie, who'd finally made it inside.

"What are you doing here?"

Charlie slid the strap of his book bag down his shoulder and fished out a single item.

Quinn quirked her brow and took the box from him. "Crackers?"

"Extra, extra salt. Your favorite." Without warning, his cocky smirk died hard and fast as he belted a nervous laugh. "Right?"

Quinn ran her digits along the package, then studied Charlie with a gentle smile. "You remembered."

"Only 'cuz it's too gross to forget."

The girl snickered at the softness hidden behind his dramatic eye roll. "Hey, nothing else can kill me if high cholesterol does me in first. I prefer to know what's coming."

"The plan was to slip it in through your window and pray your sister didn't find out."

"You're a brave one. She's known for maiming her victims."

Charlie's grin was a staggering cross between flirtatious and meek. "Still worth it."

In theory, Quinn should've felt insecure under his gaze, considering her messy demeanor resembled that of a strung-out addict as she stood before the closest thing she'd seen to a Calvin Klein model.

But Charlie's dimples that were so evidently born of his endearing simper consistently granted Quinn confidence she once thought was reserved only for Herculean superheroes. So, she straightened her posture and asked, "You came all this way just for crackers?"

Charlie wrenched a large soda bottle from the bag. "And ginger ale. Heard it's good for hangovers. Nausea, mostly."

"Is that what this is? Figured I got clocked by a semi." Quinn plopped down on her bed, a sheepish expression overtaking her features. "I'm sorry about last night. I was being an ass, which is, in no way, indicative of my typical date demeanor. Not that I've even dated enough to acquire a 'date demeanor,' per say." She willed the heat to disperse from her cheeks to no avail. "Either way, I get it if you're annoyed or pissed or whatever, but it won't happen again if you wanna, you know, go out again, or..."

"I'm sorry, are you seriously asking if I wanna go out with my girlfriend again?" Charlie's amusement grew more palpable as he crept towards the redhead who gazed up at him curiously. "Kinda planned on it. At some point, at least. Assuming Paloma doesn't ground you 'till graduation."

Quinn wasn't sure if it was his casual use of the term 'girlfriend' or the hangover-induced pressure in her head that made her feel faint, and again she wondered if she'd ever get used to the title.

Charlie snuck past her, the girl's nightstand catching his eye. It didn't take long for a hint of mischief to come to fruition. "What's this?"

She hustled to Charlie's side. "Not important."

Quinn's reflexes proved inferior as Charlie snatched a picture frame off the surface, keeping it just out of her reach. He carefully ran his digits over the glass-protected picture of the two of them—Quinn flailing in a beaming Charlie's arms on a sandy beach as he peppers her bashfully rosy cheeks with kisses, their laughter untamed.

"Did you print this from your phone?" His lips curved upwards in astonishment. "How long have you had this?"

Quinn tongued her cheek before giving in with a deflated sigh. "Despite popular belief, hard copies aren't just for soldiers."

He marveled at the memory. "Was like pulling teeth to get you to take this with me."

Shifting on her feet, Quinn said, "This way, I'll have tangible proof of your existence if my phone ever conks out. Let's say something were to happen to you. Could prove helpful in an investigation—who knows? I only have it because it's extremely practical."

"For sure, super practical." Charlie swapped his teasing simper for one of authenticity. Quinn met his melon-sweet expression with a half-hearted shove. "Shut up."

The rising murmurs on the other side of her bedroom door were enough to snatch Quinn back to reality. "Shit! Out. Now."

Charlie was halfway out the window when he said, "You realize she's gonna kill you."

"Oh, absolutely. No reason we both have to die."

"Remember—nod and smile." Charlie plucked his baseball cap from his head and gently tugged it onto Quinn's. "I wanna see you again, soldier."

He stole a kiss that she readily deepened. The redhead used the opportunity to snake the picture from his grasp. Smugly, she whispered, "Noted."

The affection was powerful enough to minimize her symptoms. Charlie made his departure; Quinn welcomed the relief, which Paloma disrupted in a heartbeat when she barged in.

"Rise and shine!"

Quinn managed to cast Charlie's hat to the dresser just in the nick of time—her swift movements instantly reacquainting her with her unabating hangover. She stumbled to her bed, but not before her sister stripped its covers.

"You can save the lecture."

The teenager knew her protests were lost on deaf ears once Paloma feigned a dejected frown. "Aww, but I was working on it all night." Her gravity returned in a New York minute. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Hey, don't blame me! I'd never even heard of alcohol 'till you mentioned it yesterday! If anything, you planted the seed."

"Shelve the jokes, Quinn; I'm not in the mood."

"Fine. I was immature, irresponsible, and downright insipid. Triple threat—that about covers it? I'll think about it long and hard as I drift off to sleep." Quinn could hardly reclaim the covers before Paloma yanked them to the floor.

"Doesn't even graze the surface. You deliberately disobeyed me. Next time you consider blatantly lying to my face, I want you to remember what you're feeling right now."

The bile clawed its way up Quinn's throat as if on cue. She swallowed it with a grimace to avoid giving her sister the satisfaction.

"How ya holdin' up, kid?" At Ava's entrance, Quinn managed two thumbs up. Ava nudged Paloma. "See? Not one, but two thumbs up. Kid's fine."

The brunette scoffed. "She—"

"Mind if I steal your sister a minute?"

Quinn flopped down on her pillow. "Please."

Ava latched onto Paloma, refusing to let go until they were out the door and down the hall.

"What couldn't wait?"

Ava scooped Paloma's hands into her own and drew her closer with a laugh. "Do you possess an inside voice? Tell me you've briefly gone tone-deaf. It's a one-off."

"She hasn't earned my inside voice. Keep it up, and neither will you."

"Sweetheart, she's a teenager. I'm not thrilled either, but you can't expect her to be perfect."

"What I expect is a little respect. There isn't a chance in hell she would've pulled this stunt with our parents."

"Why not? You did. Besides, this has nothing to do with respect."

The younger woman didn't hesitate to untangle herself from Ava's hold. "Absolutely, it does. It's my job to keep her on the straight and narrow. Can't do that if she doesn't care enough to listen. If that means I gotta rule with an iron fist, then so be it; otherwise, I'll have a pocket-sized alcoholic running around here."

Ava's amusing grin compensated for Paloma's unwavering glower. "A few drinks at her first high school party makes her a full-on drunk?"

That wore Paloma thin. "Why're you fighting me on this? It was your idea to let her go to the stupid party in the first place. If anything, you should be sitting on the sidelines while I do disaster cleanup."

Ava's cackle was born of astonishment. "The idea was for her to get from under your thumb for a night."

As far as Paloma was concerned, the conversation was over, but Ava caught her wrist before she could escape.

"Whoa, whoa, okay. Look, you're doing an amazing job with her. I'd never insinuate otherwise. I mean, I sure as hell couldn't do it. But you can be a little...tough—makes you unapproachable sometimes. Keep laying into her like this, and she'll be too scared to come to you when she really screws up."

"This speech comes with a point?"

"My point is let's pick our battles; gotta play the long game. Couple of drinks is nothing to lose our minds over."

Paloma stonewalled Ava's attempt to snake her arms around her waist. "This has very little, if anything, to do with you. Matter of fact, probably best if you split. I've got this handled."

Ava was more than a little taken aback, and she didn't even try to hide it when she asked, "Is that a suggestion or a demand?" That bought her no more than a dismissive shrug. "What about our date?"

"As you can see, I've got bigger fish to fry than a freaking Marvel movie."

"What, so you're bailing on our plans?" Ava acted as a human barricade, obstructing Paloma's path before she could make a break down the hall. "Are we not okay?"

"As far as I know."

Ava was well-acquainted with her girlfriend's reticent nature, but the familiarity never made it easier.

"You seriously want me to leave when things are like this between us? 'Cuz I don't." Ava crept closer, her features resembling that of a scolded puppy. "You know I can't take you being mad at me."

"Who said I was mad?"

"You're breaking our date, and you won't let me touch you—sure feels like you're mad."

"I'm not." Ava didn't seem so convinced, so Paloma wove her fingers through Ava's mane and whispered, "Seriously, babe."

The gesture was fleeting yet tender enough for Ava to lean into it without indecision. She conceded her frown, opting instead for acquiescence. "Prove it—swing by when you're through playin' warden. I'll cook, play some records, break out the wine. Who knows? Might even let you spend the night."

Ava took Paloma's innocuous eye roll as an opportunity to finesse her girlfriend back into her arms. "Lemme take care of you."

The supplication tugged at Paloma's heartstrings more than anticipated. But she shouldn't have been so surprised. The novel intimacy their relationship manifested certainly kept Paloma on her toes. She often regarded the excitement with admiration; other times, it left her shaking in her boots.

"That's sweet, but I've got a few things to take care of. We're still on for fishing, though. You've got my word."

Ava threw her hands up in frustration, following it up with a boorish scoff; the duo paired better than cigarettes and sex. "That's not 'till next weekend. Besides, the kid'll be there. Baby, I need some alone time with you."

Rubbing the back of her neck, Paloma nodded. "I know, but it's not like we won't see each other at work."

"You're seriously gonna ice me out for two days over this?"

The discontentment about her girlfriend was almost great enough for Paloma to change her mind. Almost.

She mustered the gumption to give Ava's bicep a reassuring squeeze. "I'll text you." Ava wasn't given a chance to object as Paloma disappeared down the hall.

By the time Paloma returned to Quinn, she was hurled in too deep a thought to remember where she left off.

"I'm very much over this conversation, so I'll cut to the chase. Your little stunt bought you two weeks of lockdown—no phone, no laptop, no Charlie." Paloma's disingenuous smile lit up the room as she drifted to the exit. "Please contact HR with any questions."

"Wait, what?!" Quinn scurried after Paloma, her vertigo the only thing that slowed her down.

"You two could use a break—for a while at least."

"No way! He has nothing to do with this."

Arms folded over her chest, Paloma halted in the doorway. "Maybe; maybe not. But I can't vouch for the kid—I barely know him, and you're not exactly equipped with proper judgment these days." That earned her a hearty eye roll. "All I know is before Charlie showed up, alcohol was nowhere near your radar."

"Says who? It's been years, Paloma. You and I weren't even speaking until five seconds ago. Maybe you don't know me as well as you think."

The dig stopped Paloma in her tracks. "Am I wrong? This who you are now?"

The teenager groaned. "No. It was just a few drinks—a one-time thing. And it's not like I'm gonna do it again." She cradled her head. "Not after this.

"I hope that's true. But, until you prove yourself, my decision stands."

Quinn carried her crass laugh back to her bed. "God, you are so transparent." Paloma possessed even less amusement than Quinn if that was possible. Still, she stuck around long enough for an explanation. "You're only losing your mind because of Ava. You've been looking for an out ever since you started dating, and I was stupid enough to give you one."

The woman entertained that with a sarcastic chuckle. "Enlighten me."

"Oh, please. Don't act so clueless. Ava's practically been living here lately—hangin' out all day, spending the night..." Her sister still hadn't caught on, so Quinn filled in the blanks without hesitation. "She's becoming one of us, close to it, at least. And, yeah, you like it, but it mostly just freaks you out. So, you conjure up some bullshit excuse to swat her away. My guess is, you'll keep swatting 'till she's gone. It's been a while, but can't say I'm surprised to see that hasn't changed."

"You'll forgive me if I don't take relationship advice from a fifteen-year-old."

"Take it or leave it. Doesn't change the truth."

"You seem to be under the impression that there's room for discussion. This is about you biting off more than you can chew. The minute I let you out, you get hammered. Charlie's a good kid, but I hardly recognize you ever since you two started dating."

"Bull."

"Is it? You stopped therapy, for one."

"Because I didn't want Charlie to find out! Not exactly the greatest conversation piece."

Paloma's eyes softened. "Quinn, if he really likes you, that won't matter."

"Well..." The girl fiddled with a loose thread protruding from her robe and surrendered her gaze elsewhere. "I don't wanna find out. Not that it matters. I don't need them anymore."

"I'm sorry, is someone else borderline screaming every night? Sure as hell isn't me." Paloma joined Quinn on the bed, making a mental note to dial back her glower in the process. "I'm worried that if you keep trying to convince yourself that nothing's wrong, you'll really start to believe it."

She took the girl's reserved demeanor as permission to continue.

"And the fact that you were drinking last night on top of this scares me." Paloma took in a generous breath before taking the plunge. "Think it's best if you go back."

Quinn shot straight up. "Screw that! We agreed on one session. I went to like five, and now, what, even that's not enough? You gave me your word."

"One session was never gonna be enough. I see that now. I wasn't lying, but for that, I'm sorry. This'll be good for you. I know it."

"Charlie is good for me. He's literally the only thing that's made my life bearable for the first time since I can remember."

"Don't you hear how screwed up that is?" She gave the teenager's knee a gentle squeeze. "You shouldn't have to wait for some guy to make you feel that way. I want you to feel like that all the time."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Paloma, but hard pass." Quinn couldn't jerk away fast enough.

"Look, I'll make you a deal. If you agree to start back up on therapy—no half-assing it—and swear this'll never happen again, I'd be willing to forget the whole thing."

"You think I can be bought? It's the principle."

"Have fun explaining that to your boyfriend." Paloma swiped Quinn's phone, giving it a new home in her back pocket. "Don't say I didn't offer you an out."

"Does my every move have to lead back to some sick, deep-seated secret you've convinced yourself I'm hiding?"

Paloma wet her lips, then forfeited her sarcasm for sincerity. "Maybe I'm wrong about this, but...I'm alright with being wrong if that means you're okay."

The sentiment was lost on Quinn. "You've never given a shit about what I needed before." She dove into bed and jerked on the covers, facing away from Paloma. "Why start now?"

Cheap shot, but it hurt a whole lot more than Paloma was willing to let on. She rose from the bed, granting Quinn that courtesy, at least.

"I know you think I'm too hard on you, that I'm overprotective, and...." Paloma's chuckle was more unsettled than delightful when she said, "Shit, maybe I am. Truth is, I'm coming into this just as blind and confused as you are. But I'm only doing what I think is best; it's the only thing I ever do, the only thing I can do."

Paloma swallowed thickly at the silence that greeted her. She held out hope for a response no more than a few seconds before meandering to the door.

Once she made it, she found herself lingering at the exit. By the time she convinced herself to turn around and face the girl, she'd grown noticeably restless as she searched for the right words.

"I know I never say it, but I like..." Leaning against the door frame, she stuffed her fists into her pockets and anchored her eyes to the floor. "Love you. I mean, you know that. Right?"

Quinn couldn't help but stitch her eyebrows together in perplexity. She lowered her protective fortress of covers to gift her sister an ephemeral glance. "Right."

Paloma met that with just a single nod, but it was powerfully resolute. As she flipped the light switch and slipped out the door, her satiated simper reached her eyes.