My phone rings.

Go to hell, piece of electronic shit.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

Those must be texts. Whoever's texting can go to hell too.

My phone rings again. And again.

'For God's sake, somebody pick that up before I murder it!'

Sean.

Ofcourse.

I try to sit up, but I feel pressed to the floor, the weight of the sky on my chest. Once I'm half awake, I realize that it's Jay and Blade right on top of me. I push them to the side and retrieve my phone from the depths of my jeans pockets.

I squint one-eyed at the screen. I don't know who it is, but whoever is calling me at two in the morning better have a good reason to back up on.

Or, I'm bringing out the grenades.

I thrust a palm into my still shut eye and attend the call.

'Hello?'

Silence.

Seriously?

'Whoever it is, I'd totally appreciate the wake-up call if only it wasn't freaking two in the morning.'

Heavy sighing. 'You sound like a douche even over the phone.'

The last strands of sleep leave my body.

'And you sound like an asshole.'

Christian sighs again.

'Look. Are we going to move forward from here? I really don't think I love to hear you breathing over the line.'

I can totally see him scowling in my head.

'I want to meet you.'

I yawn. 'I'll be coming to uni on Monday.'

'No. I want to see you now.'

Sheesh. Get this man a tampon.

'Is this another of your mood swings?' I bite out, irritated. 'I don't have time for your crap.'

'Walmart on East High. Be here in ten.'

'Oh, no. You don't tell me what to do, shithead.'

'You are so full of insults today. Why don't you think up something new?'

'Listen here, you hot piece of scum. Who do you think you are? Do you think ordering me around fixes your attitude?'

I hadn't realized I was practically yelling. All four laying around me sit up, startled.

'You think I'm hot?'

I let out a yell of frustration.

'Look, Christ-'

'No.'

'What?'

'Whatever you are going to say, my answer is no. Just shut the hell up and get to East High, cucciola.'

My throat closes upon itself. He called me a kitty?

What. The. Hell.

By the time I regain mental footing, the shizwizzle has hung up.

'Ugh.' I throw the phone to the side in angst.

'Lemme guess. Your fiancé?' Sean looks amused.

'The Bastard! The nerve of him!' I stand up and prance around, as if my tail was on fire. 'Who the hell does he think he is ordering me around? I order myself around!'

After five minutes of giving me the space I need to rant, Jay speaks up.

'I think you should get moving. Zach, drop her at East High.'

I turn to Sean, blood rushing in my veins.

'Can I break your nose?'

'No way!' he jumps away from me, hiding himself behind Jay. 'Doctor says that if my nose suffers another hit, even my grandchildren won't have noses.'

Jay scoffs. 'You won't even have grandchildren if you don't let her hit you.'

'Why me?' he whines. 'It's not like we are short of noses here or something.'

In the end, Zach and I were seated in the car, my knuckles sore from hitting the punching bag. The guys pulled me away before I could inflict further damage.

It's awkwardly silent, the entire ride. It makes me squirm in my seat. We have never been uncomfortable around each other; the feeling was so foreign. Now it is all around me, and I'm tempted to open the windows to let out the stuffiness.

When we reach Walmart, Christian stands at the doors, in standard Walmart employee costume. He works here too? Hell, is there anywhere he doesn't work?

The car pulls to a stop a few feet from him. I unbuckle my seat belt and I'm about to get out when Zach grabs my hand.

'I meant it when I said I don't like this new arrangement.'

I sigh. 'I know.'

'Really. I don't like the way he looks at you. It's terrifying.'

I look at Zach, gazing back into his dark brown eyes, and I see concern. He is more than terrified. He's afraid he'll lose me.

'You are all we have, Alex.' His voice is a whisper. 'Be sure of what you are doing.'

I nod.

'I am sorry.'

I turn so fast I crick my neck. Ow.

'What? Did you just apologize?'

Zach gives me a dull smile. 'You heard me. I'm not saying it again.'

I sigh, and place a palm on his arm.

'Zach, we are concerned about you too. These are more freaking dangerous than your cigarettes and beer. It'll ruin you.'

He slams a hand on the wheel.

'I know. Shit. It's just, I don't know what I was thinking when I started taking them. I didn't want to live anymore, I guess.'

I am such a shitty friend. My best, best friend was having suicidal thoughts and I had absolutely no idea. What does that make me?

An obnoxious, selfish, arrogant bitch.

Without thinking, I throw my hands around Zach and pull him close to me. He stiffens but then chuckles, easing himself. The gearstick pokes uncomfortably into my ribcage but what the hell.

'We'll help you get through this.' I say, my head on his shoulder. 'We are your siblings, for god's sake. We will stick by you.'

Zach rubs my shoulder and lets go. 'Yes, sister. Now if you really want me to survive, I think you should go to your fiancée, he's setting me on fire with his eyes. Wait, is that steam coming from his ears?'

Shit.

I wave goodbye and get out. I watch as he reverses, and throw the windows down.

Zach gives me a wink, a smirk and then peels out of the parking lot.

Forget about us being siblings, you pathetic moron.

'What the fuck?'

I groan, inaudibly.

'I told you to come, not with your lover boy!'

I fist my palms and turn to face Christian head on. His face is red with rage. Something swirls in his eyes, jealousy?

What the?!

'Oh really?' I snort. 'I wonder who kicked me out without an effing ride all the way from Boston? That's right. That would be you, jerkface.'

Christian grits his teeth and pulls at his hair.

'Look here, idiot. I thought we had an agreement.'

I throw up my left hand.

'I'm your fiancée, obviously. I'm wearing the ring!'

'You can't go hugging random guys when you are my fiancée!'

'That was Zach! Zach is not a random guy!'

'He's gay?'

'No!' I wrinkle my nose. Thinking of Zach even being slightly gay is awkward; given the fact he uses me to fish one-night stands.

'Then he qualifies as a random guy!' Christian is practically yelling now, his voice thunderous in the empty parking lot.

I throw a worried glance over my shoulder, as if trying to make sure there isn't anyone around. The gesture seems to cool him down. I frown as I watch him take in short breaths to calm himself.

Why the hell is he getting so worked up over me?

'Zach is family.' I state, my voice firm. 'He's like a brother to me. So, just zip it and tell me why you woke me up at two in the morning.'

Christian shoots me a bewildered look and points the way Zach just left. 'You were with him?'

I tilt my head to the right and look at him. He stares back at me for a solid couple of minutes before throwing his arms to the air.

'Don't even! You were with him, no? What were you even doing?'

I roll my eyes in absolute frustration. To hell with men and their small little brains.

'We were mid-way through the baby making process. So, your point is?'

Christian frowns for a second before he bursts out laughing.

'Baby making? That's the best you can come up with?'

I cross my arms. Did he seriously wake me up to laugh at me?

Someone's definitely getting his nose broken tonight. Luckily for Sean, I don't think it's him.

I patiently wait for Christian to quieten down, though I think I might have ground my teeth to oblivion.

'So?' I say, my anger on the rise. Have I mentioned that I'm not a morning person?

Christian grins, visibly satisfied that apparently "Nothing" happened between Zach and I.

'Well, I wanted to remind you about the charity ball this Tuesday.'

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. 'That's it? That's what this is about?'

He is still smirking, and I am very much tempted to smack it straight off. 'It's a pretty huge affair.'

I tap my foot.

'There's a dress code and all.'

More tapping.

'We are going shopping.'

Pause.

'Have you looked at a goddamn clock?'

Christian raises his eyebrows. 'You are sure a ray of sunshine in the morning. I have an acquaintance who owes me a... favour.'

'That couldn't wait till the sun was up? I mean, you know, shopping like normal, regular people?'

He rubs his temples. 'God, you are giving me a headache. And that's before we are even married. How the hell am I supposed to handle you when you are my wife?'

I gape at him like I am a goldfish. What did he even mean by that?

'Look.' Christian scratches the back of his head. 'This is to be done in discreet.'

'Why?' I choke. My voice is squeaky.

He shrugs. 'Come on. We have some dresses to pick up. Just wait a minute, all right? Let me talk to my manager.'

I close my eyes in silent frustration. I clench and unclench my fists, as I wait for him to come back, and when he does, he has ditched his uniform for a denim shirt.

'This way,' he says, leading me towards the end of the parking lot.

'Christian. We could've gone in my car if you had told me what you planned to do.'

'Your car's back at the dorms. I seriously don't have time to waste.'

I shake my head at his rather broad shoulders. 'I can pay for the cab.'

'I pay whenever I ride a cab. Just because I'm broke means doesn't mean I've got no morals. Sorry to disappoint, but my mom didn't raise a bitch.'

I frown, chewing at my lip. 'Christian, I-'

'Ssh. Just chill, okay? I'm not hiring a cab.' He walks me to a covered structure at the employee's side of the lot. He grabs an end of the covers and swiftly pulls it off, revealing a Ducati.

Right in the Walmart parking lot.

Wait. Wasn't he talking about being young, dumb and broke?

I throw my arms to the air. 'Sweet Mary, mother of Jesus.'

Christian shoots me a look. 'You know what this is?'

I raise an offended eyebrow. 'Are you kidding me? It's a Ducati Monster 1200. I think I know squat about bikes, dumbass. I don't live with my head under the effing sand.'

Christian smirks. 'You sure you aren't a dude?'

I roll my eyes. Whatever.

'Most girls have no idea. Well, hop on. Don't tell me you are afraid to get on it. And,' He ruffles his hair and winks at me, 'Hold on to me, baby.'

I trail my fingers over the elegant piece of machinery in front of me. 'I'll ride.'

The smirk on Christian's face gives way to confusion. 'What?'

'Give me the keys. I want to see how she goes.'

'Hey. It's a he.'

'Ookay.' I try not to look wierded out. 'He. Let me see how he goes.'

'You know how to ride a motorcycle?'

I frown. 'Hell, yeah. Why else would I be asking?'

'I'm not letting you anywhere near him. I just got him yesterday.'

'Yeah?' I grin cockily. He's not the only one who can do that. 'I thought you said you were broke.'

'I am.' He insists, a strange look on his face. 'But my father isn't. Fico came to know that I got my Mustang stolen, and he brought in this one as a substitute.'

I chuckle and lean on the bike. 'I thought you didn't get along with your dad.'

He grits his jaw. 'Me and my father... We are not exactly on what you call friendly relationship. But that doesn't mean I'm a complete nutjob who says no to a Ducati, especially when I don't have a means to get from A to B. And guess what, I can sell it for scrap, which is a direct "fuck you" to his face.'

That, I think, is the most frank and honest Christian Beneventi has ever been with me. I want to ask him more, but I'm afraid he will snap or worse, shut down.

I don't want to try.

'In that case, I'll help you find a dealer. But first, I'm gonna ride.'

////

MoRe AlEx aNd ChRisTian?

I'm gonna say, yes.