There were two things that Shawn knew for sure; he would never again set foot in a college bar, and he had no idea what to do with Jeanette Arthur.

He sat in the parking lot, his car still in park with the engine running. He looked back at Jean who was sleeping in his back seat.

How did it get to this point? He didn't know this girl, didn't know any of her friends. By how drunk she was, he wouldn't be surprised if Bret has done something to her drink.

He didn't have many options. He could go try to find anyone inside who might know where she lived, but Bret said they had left. He had been watching her most of the night, and nobody else seemed to know them. He supposed be could go ask Bret, but after being punched in the face, he would rather just leave that one alone.

He put his hands over his face and tried to think.

Okay God, I got her, now what?

Shawn obviously knew his intentions were good, but he couldn't imagine what this girl would be thinking when she woke up. He barely knew her. It really was not his place to be driving her around right now, nor was it really his place to have carried her out of the bar in the first place. He felt the push, he saw that no one else was stepping up, and he took a leap of faith. Now he just needed to figure out what to do next.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He was just going to drive in circles all night unless he did something. He turned back and put his hand on Jean's shoulder and shook her.

"Jean," Shawn said, softly at first, but then louder. "Jean, wake up. I need you to tell me where you live."

Jean moaned a little bit in her sleep and reached over to grab Shawn's hand. He gently pulled his hand away and tried to shake her again. He repeated her name a couple times loudly, but she didn't answer.

Shawn took a deep breath. "Guess we're going home, then," he whispered to himself.

Shawn could feel himself sweating as he left the parking lot. This was a crime, right? This was technically kidnapping. He supposed he could call the police, but would that be worse than just taking her home himself? He pulled out his cell phone and called Zeiler.

"Shawn?" she answered quickly. "Everything okay? Don't tell me you got drunk."

Shawn exhaled deeply. "When was the last time I got drunk?"

"You're right," Zeiler concluded. "What's wrong?"

Shawn glanced over his shoulder at Jean. "Are you at my house?"

"What do you think?"

Okay, good. He would need her help when he arrived home.

"I think I accidentally kidnapped someone."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Shawn waited.

"I trust you because you're a smart guy, Shawn." There was another pause. "But how?"

"It's a long story, but I have a girl passed out in my back seat, and  I barely know her. I can't wake her either. She was at the bar alone with Bret Hilliard."

He heard Zeiler groan on the other line. "How'd you end up with her?"

"Again, long story, but I'm at a loss. I thought about calling the police because I don't know what to do."

"Does she have a purse? A phone?"

Shawn looked back at her again, his phone pressed to his ear. She didn't have a purse around her at all.

"No purse, and I don't think it's appropriate for me to be checking her pockets. Don't want any more charges against me in court."

Zeiler sighed on the other line. "Just bring her home. I'll help you."

Shawn hung up the phone and leaned his head back against the headrest.

Jean started crying when Shawn pulled into his driveway. He put the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt, turning to look back at her.

"What's wrong?" Shawn asked, his voice rising higher in alarm. "Don't cry, it's fine!" He had no idea what he was doing.

She tried to sit up, her hair across her face. He couldn't understand what she was saying, until he was able to make out "I'm gonna be sick."

Oh no. Jesus no. He should have seen this coming. He was out of his car before he could even process what was going on. He pulled Jean's arm around his own neck and half dragged, half carried her as quick as he could into the house.

Zeiler was already in the doorway but Shawn frantically shooed her out of his way. His front door slammed into the wall so hard he saw Scottie jump in surprise. He was pretty sure a picture had fallen off the wall, but he couldn't be sure in the mad rush they were making towards the bathroom. He just got her there in the nick of time.

Zeiler and Scottie appeared in the doorway as Shawn desperately tried to hold Jean's hair back out of her face.

"What...who?" Scottie looked completely appalled.

Shawn looked at Zeiler in desperation "Do you have...you know...a hair thing?"

Zeiler didn't skip a beat before pushing Shawn out of the way. She had Jean's hair secured out of her face in a second, rubbing her back as Jean sobbed into the toilet.

Shawn sat across from them against the opposite wall, his arms resting on his raised knees as he looked on in complete exhaustion. Zeiler sat behind Jean, trying to comfort her as she looked to Shawn is disbelief.

"Shawn, your face," Zeiler said in surprise.

"What?"

"Did you get in a fight?"

He had nearly forgotten about the pain in his mouth or the fight with Bret in his debacle on what to do with Jean.

"Oh, right."

Zeiler shook her head, turning back to Jean. "I know this is going to make for a long story, and I want to know everything, but Scottie, go get Shawn an ice pack for his face."

Shawn rolled his eyes and started to stand. "I can get my own—"

Scottie shoved Shawn back down playfully, and Shawn didn't have the energy to fight him. "Sit down, you've done enough."

When Scottie disappeared to the kitchen, Zeiler looked to Shawn.

"Who is she?"

"Jean. Jeanette Arthur."

"Do you know her?"

"Barely."

Zeiler blinked. "Then how did this happen?"

Shawn knew if anyone were to understand, it'd be Zeiler. He knew the second he saw Jean tonight that God had planned something for him. He knew he was supposed to do something, and he felt the answer came so fast before he had a chance to think everything through. Then he ended up with an incoherent girl with no one to help him.

"She just needed help. It was bad, and it was pretty desperate. I think I weighed all my options, and I just didn't know what to do."

"She was really there alone with Hilliard?" Zeiler asked.

Shawn modded. "I guess there were others who had apparently left."

Their conversation was interrupted by Scottie screaming in amusement from the other room. Shawn closed his eyes and he waited for the footsteps that came bounding across his house. Scottie burst back in the room and threw a bag of frozen peas at Shawn. He had a huge grin on his face.

"Shawn. Lewis." Scottie shook his head at Shawn. "Wow, can we just...wow."

Scottie collapsed on the floor next to Shawn and held his phone out so both of them could see. Shawn grimaced as he watched helplessly of the video of him throwing Jean over his shoulder and the cheers blowing out the audio. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as Scottie put an arm around his shoulders.

"How'd you get that video?" Shawn said as he exhaled.

"It was online."

"Dear Lord."

Scottie pushed himself across the floor to sit right next to Zeiler to show her. She watched as Jean struggled to stand.

"No, this is so sad," Zeiler said, looking to meet Scottie's eyes.

"Just wait," Scottie said, a huge grin on his face as his eyes never left his phone. Zeiler reluctantly turned her eyes back to the phone. When the audio blew up, Shawn watched as her jaw fell. Seconds later she covered her mouth to hide the impending smile.

"No, it's still sad," she said, waving it off and pushing Scottie away. "But Shawn, wow." She raised her eyebrows. "You didn't skip a beat."

"Seriously, that was so smooth. You're gonna be viral by the morning." Scottie added.

"Let's hope not, for her sake," Shawn said, looking at Jean who was once again passed out on her folded arms. "She's gonna have a rough morning ahead of her already."

Zeiler pulled Jean back, who was stayed asleep in her arms. "My gosh, she must have been drugged or something."

Shawn put his hands up. "It's Bret Hilliard, I wouldn't put it past him." She had drank a lot, and she wasn't heavy in the slightest. She'd probably have gotten wasted on two light beers.

They all looked at each other and at Jean who was groaning quietly to herself.

"Well her clothes reek of vomit and alcohol," Zeiler said. "So I'll help her into some of Tyler's clothes."

"I'll help," Scottie said with a mischievous smile. Shawn reached forward and grabbed that back of his neck, making Scott clench and laugh uncomfortably.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he repeated until Shawn let go.

"Okay, but seriously. Help me at least move her out of here." Zeiler said, rolling her eyes and she tried to maneuver to her feet.

Scottie easily picked Jean up into his arms and followed Zeiler into Shawn's bedroom. Zeiler ran into the other room to grab some of Tyler's sweatshirts. Scottie set her on the edge of Shawn's bed and she started crying again.

"Anthony?" she said.

"Nope, Scott," Scottie said, putting his hands on his hips and turning to look at Shawn. He shrugged. "This here is my friend Shawn, he kidnapped you."

"Shawn?" Jean asked, making Shawn's heart beat quicker. She was becoming aware. Zeiler walked in the room with a handful of clothes.

"You two, get out," she said. Shawn didn't need to be told twice.

Shawn sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. Scottie sat in the armchair across from him and shook his head.

"You've changed," he whispered to Shawn. "I thought Jesus said don't be bringing girls home from bars."

Shawn looked up at him and gave him a look. Scottie smiled in return.

"Look," Scott said. "You're a good guy, Shawn. I'd like to think that I would have done the same thing as you, but I don't know if I'm that bold."

"You don't think?"

"No," Scottie said. "I don't think I would have been filming like everyone else, but I could never have done what you did. And I wish I could."

Shawn looked at his friend. Scottie was one of his favorite people in the world. He always had a way of making people laugh, and despite his goofiness, he was one of the happiest people he'd ever met. It didn't matter what he was doing, he always found a way to make it fun and people naturally gravitated towards him.

Shawn also knew he lived his life in comparison to his brother, and he struggled more than anyone would ever know, but if anyone was capable of accomplishing anything in this life, it was him.

"Scottie, you can be anything you want to be," Shawn said, winking at him. "All you have to do is believe."

Scott laughed and was interrupted by the sound of a door closing behind Zeiler. She walked into the family room and slowly sat down on the couch next to Shawn. His hair was sticking in every direction as he turned to look at his cousin.

"Well," Zeiler said slowly. "She started crying, again, and then managed to crawl under your covers and fall asleep."

"Wonderful."

"You're welcome to move her."

"I think I've done enough tonight." He smiled weakly at Zeiler. "Thanks for your help."

Zeiler waved it off. "I'm just surprised nobody is looking for her."

"Everyone knows where she is," Scottie said, looking at his phone with a smile. "We have video evidence."

Shawn sighed and got up to go get some bottles of water to place  on the table by his bed. He quickly snuck out of the room in fear that she would wake up. As he closed the door, he realized that this was far from over. She was going to sober up, sooner rather than later, and he would be faced with the girl from the coffee shop he talked to once and the girl from high school whose name he barely remembered.

It was going to be an interesting morning.