AN: Sorry for the delay. There is no excuse. This is beta'd by the lovely and thank God healthy Priya.

trick is to keep lying, but for whose entertainment?

It was as if time had turned back on itself. It was four years ago again; the electricity still simmered between the two, bouncing back and forth like a sick game of ping pong. It lingered on their skin, singeing the flesh that each ached to touch. The moment seemed like it would last forever. Last, until one of them broke that special moment that only the two of them seemed to share. It was if she was just as surprised as he was, even though she knew of this arrangement.


Sorry to burst the love bubble that seemed to be growing exponentially, but you have got to see Mama Easton's face right now. Picture the Wicked Witch of the West in mid molten state seconds after Dorothy splashed the water over her. Got it? Now freeze it; the perfect rendition of this moment. You can see it in her eyes that everything that she thought she knew had just been destroyed. Her mouth open, as if anything that she said could help her cause; but the agony was just too great and she looked like a fish out of water. Oh, the glorious imagery.

Scar's fingers slide to each other, grasping as if that was the only way not to lose herself. He looked so different from the past year. It wasn't just the hair or the earring, but it was the way that he carried himself, the way his smile never reached his eyes as he greeted her foster mother. His shoulders were tense, something that he never was before. Before, he had such an inviting stance, but now she was hesitant to walk the rest of the way to him and his family.

"Oh, look at this. I'm sorry. I know we were supposed to go out, but it seems that Scarlett decided to surprise us with a dinner. I hope you don't mind if we stay in." Mrs. Kennedy gushed and Scar couldn't help but let a smile creep up. She was small woman containing a light that seemed to over shine the basic evil in Easton's mother. Scar walked to stand in between the Kennedy's, Easton still staring at her. She could feel his stare burning through her dress.

"Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Silvercoan. I didn't mean to ruin your plans for tonight." Her voice was light and she didn't dare look at their son. Even if Mama Easton was dead inside, the woman could probably see desire and lust in her eyes as she looked at her son. Easton in a suit was not only swoon worthy, but it was also brought back memories that Scar knew would just create more problems than not.

"It's not a problem. The Simpsons couldn't make it either. Seems like everything is going wrong, dear." If distain were like a spineless amoeba, there would be no doubt that it would have melted off the consonants and the vowels from the last word.


Mama Easton still held the trophy for mega bi-otch of the year.

"Come come, let's sit and eat. I already tasted the sauce and it is divine." Mrs. Kennedy rose up on her toes to tweaked Scar's pale cheeks. "We might just keep you."

"Oh well, thanks." Scar was still getting used to the Kennedy's erratic sense of humor. She liked living with them, even if it meant facing her darkest nightmare.

"How about the kids get everything set up while we show you the wall of fame? It's a wall that keeps a timeline of all the foster kids and such." Mrs. Kennedy wrapped her arm around Mama Easton and it was at that moment that both Scar and Easton took a step forward. They both feared that she was going to break Mrs. Kennedy into pieces, but the moment was over and Mama Easton relaxed her face, but not her body.

"It seems like you enjoy presenting your trash for everyone to see?" Mama Easton voice floated from the hallway they walked into seconds ago.

"Oh no, we don't keep things like their first carnival stub or the wrapping of their first birthday gift from us. That would just be silly." Scar didn't know if Mrs. Kennedy was oblivious to the palpable dig, or if she was just that used to handling people like Easton's mother. Either way, she had to give her foster mother props for not ripping her face off.

Then there was the silence. It wasn't of the awkward variety because that would have to involve both parties being uncomfortable. And neither one of them were uncomfortable if anything it was the fact that there were so at ease with each other's presence that it would be so simple to fall back into that last day in September.

"What are you doing here, Red?" Her name wasn't an endearment as it used to have been, but an insult.

"Making my foster family dinner. The question should be what are you doing in my house?" She turned to face him and took in his suit that she as sure came from and Italian name brand; the cost of it could have saved maybe three dozen little girls in Darfur. His dimple flared as he gave a sarcastic grin.

"Where's your father?" He jumped right to the point that never changed.

"You know you're the only one who asked me that. Out of all of our friends, the one who hates me the most is the one that ask." She took a step forward only to have him step back. It was like a game of cat and mouse; a sick and twisted one that devoured feeling and destroyed happiness.

"I don't hate you, Red." He shook his head. "I just don't understand who you are anymore."


Neither did she.

"Really? Because in the past four days, I have been covered in tar, had to replace all of my book due to some unidentified slime seeping through all of them, been barricaded in a stall for four periods twice, been attacked by the whole volleyball team equipped with every volleyball in the school, found every dissected frog waiting for me in all of my classes," she caught her breath. "That sounds a lot like hate."

"You can't hear hate. You can only feel it." He stepped close to her now. "Can you feel it now?"

No, she couldn't. But then again, there were only a few emotions that worked when they were near each other. Hate was definitely not one of them.

Shaking her head, she knew that he was sliding into the old Easton. The one that knew everything about her, the one that knew how to maneuver her into doing anything he wished, the one that would do anything for her.

He wanted an answer and she didn't want to give it.

' 'SIDENOTE 2' '

As much as I am Team Scarlett, I have seen countless videos of Easton's… pull on her. I have to put my bets on him. I would suggest you do the same.

He dipped his head to hers, looked into her eyes with his deep brown ones that reminded her of their first time. She was by no means a weak teenager a slave to her own hormones but this was her Easton. In the flesh not another dream that she would wake up crying from because she was alone.

"Why are you with the Kennedys?"His voice gave no leeway.

"I'm staying with them until my father comes back." She spoke before she even realized it. It was always this way, ever since freshmen year when he arrived, He always had that affect on her.

"Don't lie to me." He brought his hand to her chin and lifted her to face him. "Say it again."

"I am staying with the Kennedy's until my father comes." It was hard to look him in the eye no matter if she told the truth or not.

It was a minute before he accepted her answer as the truth. "Alright, Red."

"Easton." She had to ask. She couldn't go any farther if she didn't know that answer. "Will you ever forgive me?"

"I did. Remember? I forgave you for cheating and you threw my forgiveness to the wolves when you left."

"I don't even remember!" He voice was on the verge of begging before a loud shattering buzz rang through the kitchen to the large foyer.

"The food." He nodded to the kitchen, his face somber as he thought of her last statement.

"Right." Scar lead the way to kitchen, feeling his eyes on her the whole way there she couldn't help but smile at the attention.

The sauce gave off a smell that delighted both Romeo and Juliet. It was a romantic scent that entranced the former lovers into an idea place where there are no bad memories just happiness.

"What are you making? Is this the same sauce from—"

"The soup kitchen that we made together? Yes, I remember you said you loved it." She took the spoon he offered her and began to stir the sauce releasing the scent to their vulnerable nostrils and memories.

She saw him hesitate before his arm lifted to wrap over her shoulder and around her neck in a loose half hug. Her heart froze but her motor skills remained intact as she continued to stir the sauce. The hand or rather fingers that weren't busing themselves on her collar bone made themselves along her arms. His middle and index finger walked their way down her tan skin, placing his hand on top of her as she turned the liquefied heaven.

She didn't know what was better his scent or the sauce. Giving in to the little girl inside her, she turned to face him. His arm stayed in place over her shoulder this time his finger running along her spine, while his other held her hand. Their lips were so close, their nose touching, their eyes trapped.

Before she knew it she was wrapped in his arms. Her face was nestled in the crook of his neck, she couldn't help but inhale.

"I missed you. I didn't just lose my girlfriend, Red. You were my best friend." He stepped back to look her in the eyes.

"I- I am so sorry. I wish I could tell you everything, but I... just can't." Her hands went to either side of his face and held him still.

"Why? You used to tell me everything whether I wanted to know or not. What is stopping you this time?" He bent his forehead to hers.

She answered him with a kiss, her lips touched his and she took control.

' 'SO IT SEEMS ' '

In the past, Easton was the one to take control and seduce her. But now she wanted him, so she would have to step up and woo him. Maybe not the way he did with flowers and candy, but she would have to take control to make she he didn't hold back.

His lips open a fraction and she took the initiative and slipped her small tongue through his soft lips. Shifting her head, she felt the excitement run through her again. It was like she was on fire; the lust ran inside igniting flames that once lay dormant. It was a revival of sorts.

It felt like her lungs were going to collapse, like her throat was burning from lack of oxygen. Her heart smoldered and her mind exploded as he gripped her arms and pulled her close, their bodies brushing against each other in such an intimate motion. Her hand curved around the back of his neck and pressed even harder as if in any second he would realize who was kissing him, before he realized that it wasn't what he wanted.

The same buzzing rang throughout the kitchen as not only the sauce began to sizzle.

Pulling back, albeit a bit reluctantly, Scar looked into his eyes, "Because I'm scared."

He looked confused for a minute, trying to remember his question that had prompted such an answer. While he thought back, Scar moved to fix the food. She pulled the bread from the oven, and turned down the sauce and drained the noodles. She didn't look back at him, knowing her face was heated as she fixed up the salad.

"Slow down, Red." Easton chuckled as he hooked a finger in one of her curls. "So you and Mariah made up?"

"She told you?" She looked at his hand then his face. He didn't realize that he was playing with her hair. It used to be such a habit between the two of them. She was obsessed with his hands and he with her hair. His hands reminded her of her father's strength and protection while her hair reminded him of the river that Liz always loved to picnic near. It was a large factor in their intimacy.

"The curls in your hair." It was then that he realized that he was playing in his ex-girlfriend's hair. He yanked back quick and pulling his fingers into his palm creating a loose fist and pressed it against his thigh. "I remember that you used to burn yourself halfway through a lock. So you would call Mariah to fix it up. And this is her signature right here."


"Fuckkk! I can't ever seem to get this right." A 15 year old Scar looked at herself in Kyrie's vanity, a curling iron in her hand. the look of a deer in headlights on her face. "I just want to look perfect."

"You shouldn't have to look any different for a boy. It is just demeaning the way you are dolling yourself up for a guy we haven't even initiated." Biby, barely 14 at the time of the video, interjected in her overalls. She laid herself over Kyrie's Playboy sheets, her head resting in Mariah's lap.

Mariah spoke up. "East's family founded the school. You don't think that he would be needed in our circle? And besides, you made out with him to get Scar mad enough to say yes to this 'date'."

"And he's hot. Is he a good kisser, Bib?" Kyrie teased their youngest. She was perched on the vanity by her best friend. "And Scar, you look—"

"Absolutely lovely." The older twin of Kyrie stood at the doorway with his chain clad jeans and his usual band tee. "My jealousy has gotten to a point where I can't help but want to throw you over my shoulder and keep you away from him."

"Bet, you are the epitome of Neanderthal!" Biby rose from her spot on her Mariah and stared daggers at her friends who was currently tutoring her in algebra and teaching her how to drive. This was their usual banter.

"You may call it such, I think of it as chivalry. No girl should be surprised when a guy opens the door for her," he looked at Scar, something in his eyes, something serious, "or dazed when they are called lovely, because all women are lovely creatures."

"Bullshit. Don't run those same tired lines on me. You used that same one Farrah last week." Biby threw her flip flop at him and pouted when he easily dodged the flying missile.

"Hel-lo. I am the one with the limp hair." Scar spoke through the playful teasing.

"Nothing about the East will be limp as soon as he sees your hair, whether it's curled or not." Kyrie grabbed the comb and tossed it to Mariah. "Help here?"

Mariah moved; straighten her skirt as she went. "You don't clamp it directly at the end." Mariah demonstrated with Scar's dark hair. "Take the strand and put the curling at the tip, but not close enough to burn your scalp. Slid it down and clamp at the shortest layer and roll. Like this."

As soon as Mariah freed the captured lock, it fell in a perfect swirl bouncing up and down. "Don't worry. He'll fall in love and then you'll be able to wear sweats on dates and lock away the curling iron."

He did. And she did.

"I remember you liked Biby's hair when you fake dated and it was curly. So I wanted to curl it for our first date." She turned to face him directly.

His eyebrows rose. "You never told me that."

"I was 16 and pathetic." She twitched her nose as she often did when she was embarrassed.

"You're such a sappy romantic. You still could have told me." He ran his thumb of her nose only to jerk back when he realize he did so.

"And blow up your ego, yeah right. You were some hot shot, new kid with a bottomless wallet. Me telling you that would have only—"

"Soothed my hellish nerves. I was the new kid who had to look cool so that I wouldn't be eaten alive by snobby private schoolers. Ah," he spoke as she tried to protect her 'snob' title. "And I had to prove something to you and your friends without my wallet, because money was nothing to you guys."

"You were nervous?" She ran her hands over the silk tie he wore. She always loved soft things…. She wondered if she could get away with one stroke through his hair.

"I got there a half an hour early and just had to circle the block without seeming crazy." He smiled at the memory not ashamed to admit it now.

"I—" Scar began to talk a smile lit on her face but only to be interrupted by her nightmare.

' 'WWW ' '

Mama Easton, aka Wicked Witch of the West aka Triple W, has returned. Let us mourned their lost moment that could have been the beginning to forgiveness; but it is as if the appearance of his mother brought everything back full throttle. She wondered about all of the hateful things that came out of that perfect pouting mouth after she left and how much it affected Easton.

"Well it seems that we are done with this quaint tour." She nodded to her son. "Thank God."

Her dress followed behind her in such a way that it eluded royalty. She was such a beautiful woman;her hair, her eyes, her skin all so symmetrical, all so ideal and faultless. Yet the glare that she gave Scar made her look like who she was, an evil hag.

A mean old lady with an ugly disposition, but Scar had to remember that the same woman who hated her, also lost her only daughter.

A pretty little girl with the blondest hair and the most gorgeous smile.

She quickly released Easton's tie and backed away to finish dinner.


"This is so delightful." Mrs. Kennedy tasted the dinner and Scar thought she was actually swooning. It was either that, or the affect that Easton had on women of any age. She saw the looks that her foster mother gave her ex-boyfriend.

So inappropriate.

"I must get this recipe. What is this taste? It's is like a spicy spice… with a flash of … maybe lemon." She smacked her lips together as if trying to bring the taste back to her lips. Her hands moved irrationally and erratically as she tried to emphasize her point.

"It's lemon thyme; it's used to bring out the flavor in the meat of the sauce." Easton spoke up in his polite, perfect son voice.

He had gotten better at that since she was away.

"Oh, you're familiar with the recipe?" Mr. Kennedy asked before he sipped at the Zinfandel that Scar had chosen to compliment the dish.

"Yes. Scar and I served this to the homeless shelter on Fifth Avenue about two years ago. It's my favorite dish. Only Roberta, our cook, and Red can get it right." Easton swirled his noodles onto his fork with the assistance of his spoon, something he picked up the summer he left for Europe to visit his grandfather, she remembered.

"Red?" Both the Kennedy's look confused while Easton's mother looked disgusted and his father oblivious.

"I apologize. Scarlett." He replaced his fork without tasting. He looked to his mother to see her reaction only for her not to meet his glance.

"Oh… oh! You two know each other well? That is marvelous. You can help her readjust. It seems she has been having some problems at her old school."

Both Scar and Easton opened their mouth to reply when his mother interrupted. Again.

"Not only does Easton volunteer at the homeless shelter, he…"


And so begins the son whoring.

She continued on for what seemed like forever. Every award, every recognition, every thoughtless act and every medal was mentioned about Easton Silvercoan.

She looked up from her meal and saw Easton in the middle of his infamous eye roll. She faced her meal again, as a small, sweet chuckle left his lips. She glanced at him again to see him trying to guide her eyes back to his. His eyes touched her chin and caressed it as if it was his pointer's knuckle and thumb there instead. His stare lifted and her face along with it as she stared straight her sweetest nightmare and her worst aspiration.

His gaze moved over to his hand, bringing attention to it for her. She complied as she watched his hand turned over, the back of his hand flat against the cheap tablecloth and his palm exposed. His fingers flinched a little as they gestured to her.

She understood.

The first time he did it she thought that he was the weirdest new kid. He was dating Biby- which didn't do much for his first impression- and he was flirting her. The taboo of the situation excited her just like he knew it would. The first time he did it, she couldn't help but smile at the way her independence and self-control just fell. It had been first period and they were sitting across from each other and the electricity between them wouldn't stop.

They both felt it and she knew if she could just touch him that it would simmer to something bearable. And apparently he did too. He moved his hand in the same way he had tonight. His palm exposed and his fingers calling her, yet he sat too far. And somehow she knew what he wanted, and in that way, what she wanted.

Just like that day, she placed her hand next to her as if he was holding her hand. There was only air beneath the flesh, but she felt him. At first she thought it was her imagination, but she wasn't the writer like their dreamer, Biby, was. She was a realist… but she held his hand with a full table between them. Just like she continued to love him with that year between him.


But was love enough? Was it ever enough?

"Dear? You said you had dessert?" Mrs. Kennedy's voice pierced her thoughts. "I am just tickled cherry to see what it is."

Her gaze went to Easton as she heard his chuckle and his mother's dejected sigh. "Yes, Easton will you help me bring it out?"

"Um," He looked at his mother and even with her glare answered, "Sure."


She lived her life by a code.

They way one is perceived is everything.

That includes decorum, manners, etiquette, great behavior and following customs.

As much as Mama Easton hates Scar, she taught her son by a code.

No matter what kind a person a Silvercoan comes in contact with, a Silvercoan will always act as a Silvercoan should. With tact, style and swag.

Okay the last part wasn't Mama Easton, but a slang that I got from MTV last week. But it fit well and I bet you would be able to relate with that.

Taking the last of the dough from the oven, Scar moved from the stove only to be face with a very guilty looking Easton.

"It will taste better when it is all put together, you do realize?" Placing the cooking pan on the nearest counter, Scar reached up to wipe away the whipped cream that was left as evidence of the old playful East.

"Nope, never did." His pout appeared. "Devia never made me wait."

"Your nanny spoiled you." She put the last of the cream on the chocolate filled pastry.

"I remember you used to spoil me." He didn't look at her eyes but at the pastry she held in her hands.

Looking at his strong jaw and following the line to his throat, she tried to lighten up the situation. "What? With my sweet kisses and loving—"

"With the fact that you believed in me." Taking the pastry from her hand, he faced her and she could feel the anxiety pulse from him.


"I believe in you and I trust you. But I need to know why you left for me to consider forgiving you." His words made her hurt so deeply. They attacked her worse than any of the lonely days she had without him. She never knew that being with him would hurt so much more than being away from him.

"Isn't that what you want, Red? Our forgiveness." He pushed his forehead against hers, their skin kissed as they met.

"More than anything, but I have to be ready to ask for it. And I'm not ready to tell you everything." She reached up to rap her finger on his shoulders to keep him from moving away from her. As much as it hurt her to have him so near, she basked in the sweet agony.

"You're not ready to tell the truth? What? Have you run out of lies?" He moved away so quickly and suddenly that she nearly stumbled towards him before she righted herself.

"The truth…. It's not as clear as it should be. It's hard to find the words that match up with it." She looked up him only to be distracted by the movement over his shoulder.

"It should not take this long to—" At the sound of his mother's voice, both Easton and Scar moved even farther away.

"Mother, Scar made your favorite dessert. Here have a taste." He step in front of his mother with the pastry to distract her only to have her shift him out of the way with one look.

"Easton, Mr. Kennedy is interested in your statistics. Will you go in there for a minute; I'll help Scarlett with the desserts."

His hesitation fueled a polar opposite of reactions for his two favorite women, albeit one of them was his current favorite. While his mother saw it as mutiny, Scar took it as hope.

Scar gave a little nod, hidden from his mother, and he left her with a fragment of reluctance.

His scent hadn't even left the room by the time his mother started in on her.

"I will not tolerate this again." Scar was surprised that his mother could look her straight in the eyes with her nose held so high in the air. "You will not drag my son to your level of average. My son is not common."

"I sorry to tell you, but this is the 21th century and we have updated since then. Your blood isn't royal, and who you know doesn't make you so. I live by merit, I work by value. I am not ashamed of what my family is." It wasn't the first time that she spoke back, but it was the first time that she did so freely. She didn't worry about what Easton would say because it wasn't his place to worry anymore. She wasn't his anymore.

"I admit that I had no background for my resistance to the affection you had with my son a year ago. While I don't apologize for that behavior because I was looking out for him, I admit that there was no legitimate reason for my opposition." Mama Easton's voice softened and the grip on Scar's arm lessened. "I'm the mother, while you were just the girlfriend. I love my son. I will always love him and you won't."

"I am not disputing the fact that you love him." She faced her knowing that this had to be a step in getting back to her life. "It's just that fact that you don't understand the love that he needs. He needs you to be there, he'll never ask but he needs you to be there."

"My son is a man. The only thing he needs is a backbone and—"

"A bottomless wallet? Contrary to popular belief, you can only buy an illusion of love, not the real thing."

Mama Easton went for the jugular. "Who was there for him to keep him in school, keep his grades high as he mourn over you as if you died? You see money as iniquity while it gave him time to revive from Elizabeth's death."

Scarlett wondered if Easton knew that his mother paid for his grades. She was sure that he wouldn't have tolerated it, but then again… she didn't know him anymore.

"And who was there when she died? Who had to hold her because her mother wasn't there the day she died!?"

Before she even realized what she was saying, Mrs. Kennedy turned the corner. "Stop it. My goodness, Scarlett."

Behind her was Easton, his father and a surprised foster father. "Wow, I don't think I've heard you say that many words in one sentence. Maybe we should invite you guys more often." Mr. Kennedy patted an irritated Mr. Silvercoan.

"Easton, deal with her."

The silence after Mama Easton's words was at best uncomfortable for all the inhabitants in the kitchen. The air was stricken with a painful aura and the stench horrible memories.

"I don't need to be dealt with, but it seems you do." With that, Scar turned her back and walk out the back door away from the malodorous aroma.

She heard the small chatter that arouse as she left but the only thing that stood out was that voice that she used to feel habitually against her skin.

The sky was dark by now, the day had gone by so quickly with her excitement to see him. Her delight had been as high as the noon sun and it seem to be proportionate to the sunset that faced her as she stepped onto the back porch. His mother always struck a chord with her; her mannerisms, her thoughts, her speech, everything about her made Scar's skin crawl and made her throat itch to scream.


"I don't want her here. Do you hear me? I am paying half this staff's salary and if you like me to continue to do so then you will take care of this." Mama Easton voice rang in large, decorated hospital room. The bears were the size of the young girl that laid restless in the bed they surrounded. The flowers overpowered the scent of medicine and oncoming death as the love was dampened by the hate that seeped from mother to girlfriend.

"Miss, I will have to ask you to leave if you aren't family." The doctor couldn't look Scar in the eyes. He had dealt with over reactive parents before but never the likes of Mrs. Silvercoan.

"But she is." The little voice ran high in the wave of desperation that seemed to override all the anger and all the fury. The little girl in the hospital room grabbed at her brother's hand and looked up to him. He was her hero, so handsome and strong, he even promised her how to ride a bike when she got out of the hospital too.

"Mother, calm down. Scarlett is staying, Liz needs her here." Easton didn't even look up at his mother, but moved a strand that was stuck in the tube under her small red nose. The chemo always made her cry and her nose always got the worse of it.

"Excus— I will not tolerat— and to think that—" Mama Easton took a deep breath, and running her hands over her tightly winded bun before starting over. "I'm meeting your father in Peru to finish up a deal. We'll both be back by her next treatment."

Scar, Easton and even the doctor looked shocked as she walked away still brushing against her bun.

"Mama?" A little voice rang tired and confused, a voice Scar would never forget.

Scar's chair fell back as she rushed from the room ignoring Easton's calls. He would deal with himself, but Liz's heart rate and pressure always increased when her brother was away. Besides she could deal with this.

"What is wrong with you?" Scar reached out to grab at Mama Easton's Chanel tunic. "Your daughter has leukemia. You can't just go to Peru."

"I still have a business. I still have other priorities at stake." She reached to grab at Scar's wrist holding it tight her grasp. Her lips thinned as she spoke but her eyes look glazed and lost. But that didn't stop Scar.

"She's your daughter, there shouldn't be any others right now. She should be your only." When she let go of the expensive silk her wrist stayed captive.

"What would you know about family? You have no values or—"

"—I had no mother growing up. I have no idea what it is like to be held by one. No one should have to go through that. Especially not Elizabeth, not when she has a mother. One that is outside of her hospital room right now. You don't need to leave."

The pause, filled with hope and fear, stood in the stagnant air for a full minute before Mama Easton spoke up. "I do. Tell Easton to sign the loco parentis so he can make the decision while we're away."

The pause now filled with hate. "They said she might not make it to the next treatment. If that's true and you're not here Easton will have to decide if she has the experimental surgery. Don't make him do that."

"You heard him in there. Apparently he knows what she needs better than me." There were no more pauses…. just a silence as she turned and walked away, her Chanel tunic swaying. So pretty and expensive on the outside, so miserable and absent on the inside.

"They both need you." But her words were lost in the stillness.

Scar continued to grip at the balcony even as she felt Easton's arm wrap around her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you in there with her. I don't know what I was thinking."

Leaning back against him, she reached to touch his arm with the tip of her fingers. He was real. This was real.

They stayed like that, together and touching, watching the sunset behind the horizon until Mrs. Kennedy walked out to the back. She spoke something quickly that Scar didn't understand but she felt Easton body take in what she said.

"I have to go," he whispered to her as if he didn't want to break the moment.

She nodded and he slipped away. But before he was gone, she turned quickly. "Will you talk to me tomorrow? In school, I mean?"

He turned and she nearly wanted to roll her eyes at how golden boy he looked at that moment. Even without the hair and the subtle bling at his ear, he had the smile and the tinkle in his eyes that made her heart want to jump out of her chest and attached itself to her sleeve, just so he could see what the site of him did to her heart rate.

He rested his head on the door frame and gave a soft chuckle. "Have I ever said no to you?"

"Then do you forgive me?"

His smile faded. "Well, there's a first time for everything."

AN: Met Mama Easton. She says hi.

Thank you to my strong ass beta, Priya!

Reviews are sooo welcome. Tell me what you think of Easton, golden boy extraordinaire, of his mother too, bitch extraordinaire.

Props to: DesireToSmile, Has A WaywithWords, greenestar, welcome to meganland, SuperSecretMusicMission, darkgurl92, Jainblu, MissxSoniaxMarie, Lethe's Oblivion, goldenspork