--I know you hate me because it's been a month since I've uploaded, but this is a super long chapter so I hope that makes up for it :)

Vote/comment please!! I'll love you forever!!

oOoOo

I go back to work before I go back to school. The school gives a student an automatic two week absence to any student who has lost a parent, and even though I think I'm in a somewhat normal mental state a week after my father's death, I really don't feel up to facing everyone at the school quite yet. But I am willing to face Zara who, Lucas told me two days ago after his first shift since my dad's death, is extremely worried and wants to see me in person to make sure that I'm alright. 

And because of this and the fact that she's been a parent to me when neither of my biological ones wanted to step up to the plate, I was willing to climb out of bed three hours before what I've been pulling lately, put on some clothes that couldn't be worn to a gym or a pajama party, and run a brush through my hair. All for Zara. 

That bitch better be grateful. 

But I'm really just kidding. I'm actually looking forward to seeing someone who I can confide in other than Lucas, although the blonde looker has been more than enough for me this past week. He's been there for me every moment that he's physically able, even pulling a few strings by letting the office let him keep his phone on in case there's an emergency. I really have no idea how he managed to pull that off, but I have a gut feeling that he sweet-talked the elderly secretary who's always had a thing for him. 

Speaking of which, as soon as that handsome-looking devil is done ordering our two large sodas from the Sonic Drive-In, he rolls up the window his jeep and then looks over at me. For the millionth time, he explains, "Nay, if you need to leave work just let me know, okay? Don't worry about upsetting Zara..." 

I roll my eyes at him just like I have every other time he brings something like this up. I tell him calmly, "Lucas, I'm going to be fine, okay? I've already had my days to cry, any water in my body is long gone by now. Don't worry." 

He says, "But you can still be hurting without crying. I just don't want to make you uncomfortable." 

In an effort to get him to stop treating me like such an emotional basket case, I say playfully, "Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much? Chill, man. It's not that hard." 

Immediately catching on to my first good mood in a really long time, he says in a facedly exasperated tone, "Well sorry for caring about my best friend!" 

Ignoring the little pang of hurt I feel at the title, I just roll my eyes at him again and then go to look out of the window. I don't really know how Lucas and Destiny have been doing lately, seeing as I don't see them walking down the hallways since I haven't gone back to school yet, but I do know that they've been talking on the phone a lot lately. And when they do, they do so privately. The past three nights when the two of us have been doing something, his phone has started to ring and when he sees that it's her, he'll tell me that he'll be right back and then disappear for up to an hour. It's really starting to piss me off.  

Obviously something's up if he can't talk to her in front of me. It's not like he hasn't done it before. Sure it hurts to hear him say such kind and romantic things to someone that's not me, but I just ignore it. I finally have him back in my life and I'm not going to give him up just because I'm falling back in love with him. I'm not going to make the same mistake as I did two years ago. This time, I'm just going to keep my love a secret and try to get over him. 

It's beyond apparent that the two of them are slowly starting to talk through things after their fight on Tuesday night, and that they're soon going to be back into that perfect lovey-dovey couple. I'm just waiting for the night that she appears on his door step and kisses him right in front of me or something. He hasn't gone to her house, so I know that they haven't hung out outside of school yet, but I know that that time is coming. And I'm just trying to brace myself for it. 

"Thank you," I hear Lucas say from behind me, and when I look over my shoulder, I see that the car hop has brought us our things and Lucas has already paid for them. Damn. I must have really been out of it to not even hear him roll his window down or start talking to someone. 

Lucas hands me my drink and I murmur a quick "thanks" before taking a long sip. Ah. I've been on such a need-caffeine thing for the past week, and I know that it has something to do with my lack of sleep. Sure I sleep good when Lucas is all cuddled up next to me, but the past two nights I've passed out before he's gotten off the phone with Destiny and don't feel him when he gets into bed with me. So it's basically been like I've been sleeping alone. And I don't know why-I think fate is just out to get me-but if I don't fall asleep with him then I don't sleep well. 

Because of this depressing fact, I had to pile on the make up this morning just so I'd look like someone who didn't belong in a Zombie movie. Sure I hadn't put it on the other days because I'd just been vegetating at Lucas' house and I know that Lucas has noticed, but he hasn't really said much. Instead he's just chosen to act like the huge bags underneath my eyes don't exist. 

When I pull the drink away from my lips, an unusual black marking on my cup catches my eye. I lift up the drink to get a better glimpse, and when I see a name and a phone number scribbled right underneath the Sonic logo, I give out a bitter laugh. I lean over and show it to Lucas, telling him, "You're just too desirable for your own good." 

"What?" he asks, confusedly, grabbing the giant Styrofoam cup out of my hands. When he sees what the car hop has scribbled onto the cup, he asks me, "Seriously? She sees that I'm with a girl but still chooses to pick me up?" 

Does he really not see why girls always fawn over him? How can he not get that, while he is dating the prettiest girl in school and has just about all of the others secretly in love with him, girls are still going to risk their dignity and respect for a shot at him? Not only is he downright gorgeous, he's also one of the sweetest guys I've ever met, and one of the funniest. Sure he's no comedian, but he makes me laugh and that's pretty hard for me to do at most people's jokes. He's perfect boyfriend material. 

And that really sucks for the girl who is only ever going to be his best friend. 

"You really don't get it, do you?" I ask him as my eyes look on at his muscular arm as he brings the cup away from his gaze and then places it into the cup holder between us. 

"Get what?" he asks me confusedly, leaning back into his seat as he takes a swig of his bright blue slushy. 

I give a wry grin-he's one of the most desired people I know and he doesn't even get it-and then lean back into my seat and look out of the window and onto the busy highway. "Never mind. Let's just go see Zara." 

"Um. Okay?" he says, sounding just a bit put out before he backs the jeep out of the parking spot and then merges onto the highway that leads us to the book store.  

The ride there is completely silent, the only sound being the AWOLNATION CD playing through his speakers. I really don't mind the silence, seeing as how it gives me a chance to stew at how irritated I am at how dense the boy sitting next to me can be, but I know that it's irritating him. He hates silence, absolutely hates it, because he always thinks that when someone's silent that it means they're angry with him. Which is kind of the case now. But he doesn't need to know that. 

We pull beside the book store about five minutes later and my hands are just itching to throw open my car door and get out, but as soon as I've unbuckled my seat belt I hear Lucas say, "You're mad at me." 

I sigh, knowing that this was going to come up even though I prayed it wouldn't. I hear the loud snap of my seat belt hitting the side of the jeep as I let it go without a care, and then lean back into my seat, knowing that this talk is probably going to be a long one. I say, "I'm not mad at you, Lucas," but even I don't really believe me. 

"I don't believe you," he says seriously, and when I look over at him I see that his deep blue eyes are worried. They're not angry at me, they're not irritated...they're worried. And that makes me feel really bad, knowing that I've caused this. But it also makes me feel good, knowing that he doesn't like me being angry with him. Because it means he cares. And I love that he cares. 

Uncomfortable with how I know this conversation is going to turn out, I reach out and start playing with my necklace before saying, "I'm just...how can you be so dense?" 

"Dense? About what?" 

"About that waitress person!" I say a little too loudly, how angry I actually am at this whole ordeal even shocking me. Why am I so mad about him not realizing why girls love him so much? Why does it affect me at all? Well, probably because you're in love with him...a little voice says in my head, making me want to punch the side of the car. That'll only draw concern and questions from Lucas, though, so somehow or another I refrain from doing so. "You get irritated because she hits on you in front of me, but don't you realize why she did it?" 

"Because she's a slut?" he asks worriedly, as if he knows that this is the wrong answer but cannot come up with anything better to say. 

I roll my eyes and say, "Whatever, Lucas," surprised by how frustrated at his answer. Once again I go to push the door open, but his hand on my arm stops me. 

When I turn my head to look over at him, his blue eyes are even more worried, making me feel just the slightest bit guilty. He says in an almost pleading voice, "Please Naomi...just tell me what I did. I have no idea why you're mad at me." 

With a loud sigh, I lean back in my seat once again and try to come up with the words to explain to him why I'm so angry at him. But even after a minute or so of trying to come up with an explanation, I realize that I don't really have a valid one. I'm just pissed. Why? Why am I so mad at him? I mean, he did do the right thing. When someone hits on you when you're with a girl, whether she's your girlfriend or not, you're supposed to be angry. So in my book, he did the right thing. So why am I so angry? 

Shaking my head at how pathetic I've become, I say, "I have no idea." 

He runs his fingers through his hair, completely frustrated with me, and then says, "Naomi, you really confuse the shit out of me, you know that?" 

I can't help but laugh even though I'm slightly humiliated for being so easily riled up with him. But realizing that with how dense he was with the whole car hop situation makes me wonder if maybe he thought I was stupid or something for confessing to him. Does he think that maybe I don't know my own feelings for him? 

Shaking my head to clear myself of the thought, I lean over the middle console and press a kiss against his stubbly cheek. When I lean back I see that he has a sweet smile on his face and is looking at me in a way that I've missed for so, so long. I tell him with a smile to match his own, "I'll text you," and then hop out of the Jeep. 

It feels weird to be in the outside world, I'm not going to lie. I've been so cooped up in the Hamilton house that I haven't breathed fresh air or felt the wind blow against me in almost a week. It's not healthy, I know it's not, but being out here where's the people walking and talking and going on with their lives is a little bit overwhelming. I feel like such a little, sad person in a town filled with people who are more than perfectly content with their lives. 

I don't like it one little bit. 

So I tighten my arms around my torso and then hurry into the bookstore, eager to get into a peaceful place that I can easily call one of my homes. I push open the front doors and the moment that I hear it shut behind me with a quiet thud, I feel relaxed. Everything's how it was before my life became one big pile of wreckage. There's still a pile of books on the front counter that have yet to be put up, albeit it's a bit bigger than normal because it's been short a worker for a week or so. There's still sticky notes attached to the computer about orders that need to be placed and shipped, one of them with Lucas' familiar scrawl. The zodiac calendar that I got Zara for the holidays last winter is still plastered up behind the desk chair, the release dates for major books scribbled onto the right dates. 

It's all how I left it, and that makes me feel more at home than ever. 

"Is there anything I can help you...Naomi?" I hear Zara's familiar soft voice ask from the direction of the bookshelves. I look away from the desk and when I see one of my most favorite people in the world standing in front of me, looking just like she did the last time I saw her, I dash over to her and throw my arms around her shoulders.  

I guess I hadn't had a clue about how much I missed her until I just saw her standing there, looking as earthy as ever in her green floral floor-length skirt, brown gladiator sandals, and white knit top. Her hair has finally been taken out of those dreaded dread-locks and has instead been swapped into a nice, natural wave, making her look much prettier than I've ever seen. And now that I notice it...she smells nice. Is she actually wearing perfume? What the hell? 

I pull away from her and shoot her a very pointed look, and when I do it's then that I realize she's wearing lip gloss too. Honestly, what the fuck is going on here? "Zara..." I say lowly, "What's with you? You look like you actually care about looking like a girl." 

She gives me a soft smile, "Is that supposed to be an insult or something?" 

"Of course not," I say, playfully rolling my eyes at her while pulling away from her motherly embrace. "Just wondering why you're all glammed up?" 

If she was any other race you'd be able to see the flush of red in her cheeks because I know she's embarrassed that I've called her out, but since she's got a darker olive skin tone you can't see it. But it's obvious something is going through her mind, and I know that girls only really ever get this flushed over one thing...boys. 

"Who is he?" I ask her simply. 

"Who is who?" she asks defensively as she takes a step away from me. A rue smile touches my lips when I realize she's just given me my answer. 

"The guy you've prettied yourself up for," I clarify, knowing that it probably won't do any good. It's not like she's going to admit anything to me; Zara's not the most talkative or chatty kind of girl when it comes to boys and crushes. 

She scoffs and says, "There's no guy, Naomi, I just felt like dressing up today." 

"Mhm sure," I say doubtfully, but knowing better than to push the subject. She's one of my only friends; I definitely don't want to push her away with my irritating prying.  

"Anyways," she says, effectively stopping the conversation that was quickly leading to her embarrassment. Continuing on as if I hadn't pretty much called her out, she continues, "How are you doing?" 

A little wave of sadness immediately washes over me now that the conversation has turned to the wreck that my life is slowly turning into. I like talking about other people; it keeps my head away from the crazy things that have happened recently. That's why Lucas has pretty much one-sided conversations with himself to distract me. He's more than happy to talk to me about his life in school, and I'm more than content to sit there and listen. 

Today's supposed to be a good day-I'm finally out of Lucas' house-and I want to spend it as a good day. I don't want to talk about my mess of a life. So that's why I ask her meekly, "Can we...not discuss my life please? It's depressing." 

She gently places a comforting hand on my shoulder and says, "Sorry, Naomi. I should have been more careful. Now would you like to work today, or do you want to close up early and go get some Chinese food?" 

"Chinese food would be amazing." 

oOoOo 

"So how was your day?" Lucas asks me as he walks into his dimly lit bedroom later that night, carrying a huge bowl of popcorn that smells absolutely mouth-wateringly delicious. 

As he kneels down to grab a DVD from the drawer underneath his TV, I say from my spot perched on his bed, "Really good. She closed the shop early and we went to that Chinese place up the road and just talked." 

Looking the epitome of surprise, Lucas turns his head and meets my eyes with his own. He asks, "She got you to talk? I haven't been able to do that." 

"We didn't talk about depressing things," I tell him stonily, trying to let him know with my tone that I don't want to talk about it right now either. He obviously gets the message by the way his hopeful expression fades away. I say, "And I can't help it if all you and I talk about is yourself. You're such an annoying little chatterbox." 

"I can't help it that I'm so interesting," he argues, that once deflated expression of his perking right up when he realizes that I'm in a joking around mood.  

I scoff dramatically, loving so much how he can easily pick up my moods and match it with his own. That's something that I don't have with anyone else, and it's one of the main reasons that I love him so much. No one else can read my like an open book like he does.  

"Interesting...right. More like self-centered." 

"You know what?" he asks completely bemused from his still kneeling position on the floor. 

"No....you haven't told me yet," I fire back, my heart feeling so light and happy from our play bickering that's so like the old us. That amazing connection we used to have is still present and going strong; something that makes me giddier than I could ever imagine. 

"That's it," he says, and before I can even blink he's sprung himself from the floor, completely abandoning the bowl of popcorn and putting the movie in, and has jumped onto the bed and right onto me.  

Squealing in both surprise and utter delight, I try to get out of his grasp and fight back, but he keeps his arms rock solid around me. Seeing as how he's a very muscled-up football player, I have no chance at getting away from him, so instead I just give up and peer upwards at his face.  

When I see how light and happy his blue eyes are, I cannot even begin to stop the silly smile from taking over my face. Somehow or another this wonderful guy is best friends with me, and even when I'm going through absolute hell, we can still make each other smile like it's one of our happiest days. I have no idea how this has happened, what has made me so lucky to have a guy like him in my life, but I know that there's no way in hell I'd willingly give him up. 

After breathing out hard, Lucas says to me, "Now take it back." 

"No way!" I refuse, trying extremely hard not to let the deliciously minty smell of his breath turn me into a crush-ridden little school girl. Right now I just need to be his friend, I don't need to act like I'm still as in love with him as I was two years ago.  

When he leans his face in even closer to mine, so close that our noses are almost rubbing against each others, I can't help but wonder if he does these kind of things on purpose. He has to know how crazy he drives me; both emotionally and physically. So why does he continuously do them? I mean, he knows that I used to be in love with him and he can't be dense enough to think that those feelings will never come back. 

But yet he cuddles next to me when I sleep, he kisses me on the cheek and on the temple, and when he hugs me he holds me right up against him. He has to know that his actions don't exactly turn me off, that they in fact do the exact opposite.  

Is he really that stupid? 

Does he honestly believe that doing all of these little things don't make me like him even more? 

He says warningly, "Take it back...or you're going to regret it." 

"Oh really?" I ask him teasingly, knowing that the answer is most definitely yes. Lucas absolutely loves to torture me and I know that he'd never pass up such a good opportunity to do so. "What are you going to do?" 

At first I expect some kind of taunting answer like he always gives me, like a "I'm going to tickle you to death" or "wet willy!" What I definitely did not expect was for him to go eerily quiet, as if he completely forgot about our silly little argument and his threat against me. But now that he has gone quiet and now that's staring at me with some kind of bewildered expression, I have no idea how to react. 

I usually just let him do whatever it is he wants to do to me to get me back-tickly, wet willy, grab my nose-and then smack him against the chest as payback. But now that he's just staring at me, I have no idea how to react. 

His blue eyes slowly but surely morph from that playful sparkle and into this deep blue color that somewhat resembles lust. But there's no way he could be feeling that for me...right? He's already told me that he doesn't feel that way for me, that he only holds feelings like that for his perfect little girlfriend. I'm not naïve, I know that my own little romance story is not going to involve Lucas. I've come to terms with that. 

So why on earth does it look like Lucas is trying to convince himself of the opposite? He's looking at me like Destiny looks at him, like I look at him. Why? Does he just enjoy baiting me like that or something? 

"Lucas...?" I ask him questioningly, absolutely mortified when my voice comes out as a breath whisper? Oh good God, now he knows how turned on I am by this...how much he's affecting me and my breathing rate and my blood pressure and... 

I see his eyes drop down to mine for a split second, giving me just a second to see the crazed expression on his face, right before he leans in and captures my lips with his.  

At first I'm too stunned to do anything, to move my lips against his like I know I'm supposed to or to thread my arms around his neck so that he'll just stay against me. No, at first I can only feel him, feel his lips, their heat and their softness.  

But once a brief second passes, I reach up and with shaky hands place them against his firm chest; not to push him away from me, but instead just so that I can feel him right there, feeling hovering on top of me. His heart pounds against the sensitive skin of my palm, and I can't help but wonder if he's reacting to this as crazily as I am.  

Does he feel like the world's just dropped from around him too? 

Our lips start to move in a perfect synchronization, as if this is something that we've been practicing at for years and have mastered. This is when my hands finally move away from his chest and instead climb up to his shoulders, draping one hand onto his back and having the other snake up and gather his soft hair into my fingers. 

A light groan escapes his lips the moment I do this, making some part of my stomach flip over. That has to be one of the most delicious, most mouth-watering sounds on this planet. Feeling as if I've become just a bit unhinged, I arch my chest so that my stomach presses firmly against his. The second after I do this if feel his tongue lightly sneak into the space between my lips, but before I can meet his with my own, the loud chiming of the doorbell fills the silent but heated bedroom. 

I pull away from him first, my chest heaving with labored breaths and my mind whirling at what the fuck has just happened. I've just...I've basically just made out with my best friend, the guy that I'm totally and completely head over heels for. I've just kissed the life out of the guy I've always dreamed of kissing. 

So why the hell do I feel so guilty? 

I don't have to open my eyes to know that Lucas has gotten himself off of me and is now resting on his knees on the edge of the bed. His breathing is just as loud as mine, letting me know with some kind of content that he's just as affected as me with this kiss. But I also know that he hates me now, now that I've actually come in between him and his so loved girlfriend. 

"Nay?" I hear him ask me, his voice sounding deep and husky yet still so vulnerable. 

Even though I'm terrified to know what's going through his head right now, I ask him meekly, "Yes?" 

He says, "I'm going to go...I'm going to go check the door. Don't move, okay?" 

Judging by the tone of his voice and the way that he's not kicking me out of his house, I know that he doesn't hate me. Because of this, I find it safe to open my eyes and when I do, the first thing I notice is how crazy beautiful his blue eyes are. I don't know if it's because they're more alight than they were earlier or because they match wonderfully with his kiss-reddened lips, but they look absolutely gorgeous. 

This really, really sucks because, well, I've just ruined this beautiful guy's relationship with his beautiful girlfriend.  

I nod and say, "Okay." 

He gives me one last fleeting look before climbing off of the bed and then disappearing out of the bedroom, leaving me alone with my jumbled mind and my pounding heart. 

I pull myself into a sitting position and then bury my face into my hands, letting the weight of what's actually happened fall over me. I've just ruined our friendship, ruined what I worked so hard to trust again. The thing that has kept me somewhat sane these past two weeks has now been wrecked and I don't know if I'm going to be able to get it back. 

This thought settling in my head, tears start to burn the back of my eyelids and sooner rather than later they're falling from my eyes and splashing onto my hands. Why did I have to let my stupid hormones get the best of me? Our friendship has been stronger than ever lately and now I'm pretty sure that I've wrecked it.  

"Naomi?" I hear his voice ask, and when I look up I see that he's standing in the doorway, watching me with darkened eyes. "Why are you...?" 

Cutting him off because I'm too embarrassed at having been caught crying, I wipe my eyes with the back of my fists and then ask, "Who was at the door?" 

Twenty bucks it's Destiny, and he's now up here to tell me to get the hell out so that he can do with her what he was just doing with me. 

So you can imagine my surprise when he says, "It's your mom."