Chapter One

The months following my accident, I'm constantly being forced to relive the moment over and over again, whenever I fall asleep. The scene never changes. The smell of freshly mowed grass (did you know that smell is actually the grass calling out for help? How fucked up is it that people enjoy that smell?) assaulted my nostrils, somehow working its way through the mountain of grease and melted cheese I had in front of me. The heat of the sun beat down on the back of my neck, despite the fact that it was the middle of January, and I knew that in just a few hours it would be snowing again. The perks of living in the midwest.

Laughter came from either side of me as my comrads ran to try and get to the car first. Everything completely fine, and completely normal.

And then it happened.

My foot hit the one patch of ice that managed to survive the random blistering day. At least, that's what I tell myself. Knowing me, I could've just as easily lost my footing some other way. No matter how it went down, I still somehow found myself sprawled out on the parking lot as an unimaginable amount of pain shot through my hip.

What ninteen-year-old breaks their fucking hip in the fucking parking lot of Pizza Hut?

Me, apparently.

TBBIMBS

I didn't plan on hating Colorado. At least, not right away.

To be fair, I suppose it really isn't the stupid state's fault. But when you hear that you're going on vacation to a state that sits kitty-corner to Arizona and just barely an hour's drive to Texas, you think it'll be a nice break from the hellish winters that are forced upon us South Dakotans every February. However, after nearly a day of driving, the snow has still yet to leave us. Being stuck in the back of a cramped car as if I'm no better than the mountains of luggage that sit on either side of me doesn't help.

I guess I have it better than Greyson, though. Stuck between Madeline and Nerissa in an attempt to keep them from having one of their famous catfights, my younger brother looks even more miserable than I feel.

A couple of times throughout our trip, I've considered offering to switch with him, only to think otherwise. More than just my self preservation, which reminds me that Nerissa has a way of getting under my skin worse than anyone else, I know that my presence would only hinder the situation. Greyson has created a sort of mental force field, blocking our cousin out-one that I have yet to develop. Madeline won't feel the urge to protect him as much as she would me.

So everytime I keep my mouth shut, deciding that pity is the best way to go.

Up front, my mother sits with her two sisters (my aunt has one of those cool cars where even the front somehow finds the room to fit three seats). This isn't a vacation for them.

Our uncle-their elder brother-has asked for help from them with getting emergency custody of his sons, who we suspect are being abused by their mother. They will spend the entire week we're down here visiting court houses and child custody services and other place you have to go to achieve this goal. I'm still not even sure why they decided to bring us kids along.

"Because we think it would be good for Nerissa." my mom had said when I asked, as if that makes so much sense. Because spending out with her "nerdy cousins" for a week would definitely bring her back to her senses and just like that, seeing our good behavior would get her back on the straight and narrow. No more drugs, sex, underage drinking, all that.

Especially since, y'know, I'm not exactly perfect, myself.

TBBIMBS

I didn't plan on going out that night. I was supposed to be in a car, heading out of state in just a few hours. But Jess had caught me right as I was getting off of work and continued to nag me until I gave in, even threatening to go so far as following me home. Which she did, anyway, but only because I'd allowed her to so that I wouldn't have to drive.

I supposed that if it had been a normal night out with her, I probably wouldn't have found myself in this situation. I was usually the sober one, calling it quits after just a few puffs of the weed Mason always brought with, and maybe two or three bottles of Smirnoff. Sensible enough to make sure that I ended up sleeping by myself, or at least with someone who wasn't so... clingy.

But they'd kept shoving drinks and games at me that night, and I'd kept falling for it. After hogging nearly a whole joint to myself as well as downing two full glasses of Irish Coke, I hadn't exactly been in the best of mental states. Although, I had apparently gotten way better at beer pong, according to Jess, after we'd somehow managed to beat the boys for the first time ever in the near year we'd been doing this. And I had to admit, I'd held most of the game on my shoulders.

But that one game was so not worth the situation I'd found myself in, just a couple of hours later.

The unfamiliar weight pushing into my back-at least, I assumed that was what it was-woke me up. It was still late into the night, not even the earliest rays of light shining through the window that sat at the way end of the guest room.

It took me a moment to come back to my senses enough to remember where I was. Once I'd managed to fight through my still slightly intoxication, I notied something else was off. It wasn't the fact that there was clearly someone else in bed with me (I vaguelly remembered joking around with Jake, telling him that I'd kick him into the basonet that was stored in that room if he didn't stay on his side of the bed)-

-it was the fact that his arm, which must've been resting on my waist at some point, was not so slowly making its way up my stomach.

With a set of clenched teeth, both my arms flash up to my chest, squishing my boobs in and effectively blocking him in his quest. The movement was so jerky that had he been awake, he definitely would've noticed, proving that he was definitely still in a drunken slumber.

"Hey," I whispered, daring to move one of my arms just enough to be able to elbow him lightly in the chest. "Jake. Jake."

My attempts were clearly in vain. He didn't wake up even just enough to roll back over onto his side of the bed, but his hand did seem to realize that it wasn't going to get anywhere. But right as I was about to begin to relax-at least, as much as I could with a guy the same age as my youngest sibling pressing up against my back-his hands began to move south.

"Jake!" I hissed, twisting my legs together, before giving him one final shove. I hadn't meant to push him that hard, just enough to get him on his side of the bed, but with a surprised cry, the boy went flying over the other side.

I bolted up with a gasp, my wide eyes straining through the dark as I attempted to find him. "Sorry!"

"God," Jake grumbled, I could vaguelly make out the sillouette of his head appearing over the side. "What the hell was that for?"

"Nothing!" I gasped, scrambling back under the covers, my back facing him again. The last thing I wanted was to have to explain that he was trying to molest me in his sleep. "Just go back to bed. I have to be home in a few hours."

"God," he groaned, climbing back into bed. "Maybe I should've slept in the crib."

TBBIMBS

My phone vibrating against my thigh brings me back to the present. I reach down, struggling to wiggle it out of my insanely tight pocket (I wore shorts when we started this trip, because once again, I'd stupidly assumed that Colorado would be hot) before holding it to eye level. It's a text message from Isla.

Stop fretting over it. she's sent. This vacation isnt even for her. Its for your other cousins.

That's just for my mom and aunts. We will probably spend very little time at these places.

When I glance up, it's too find Greyson glancing back at me through the rearview mirror. Out of the three of us, my brother is the only one who inherited my mother's blue eyes. Madeline and I both got the chocolate color from our father, although all of us also share his dark brown hair.

I shoot him an apologetic smile, before turning back down to my phone. The little grey thought bubble has appeared, but it takes a while for her to actually send the message and for it to come through. Isla always takes forever to respond with just about anything. She absolutely hates it when she isn't able to think through every single last word.

Well, then just do your best not to get high or drunk and Im sure youll be fine.

I don't respond to that, mostly because I don't really know how to. My parents must suspect that I'm not as good as I come off as. They're not that stupid. Besides, I've heard Nerissa complain about how nobody ever yells at me when I must do stuff almost if not as stupid as her.

The answer? I never get caught.

I pull out a book from my backpack and curl up into a ball as I begin to read. The beautiful smell of crisp, new pages wafts up my nose. Books are, by far, the best invention ever. Nothing compares, as far as I'm concerned. Maybe that's part of the reason why nobody ever really suspects me to be the type of person to go out and party.

Or maybe it's because I'm really not that type.

Peer pressure really sucks.

We're pulling up to a forested mountain (that seems to be all I've seen aside from snow, ever since we entered this god forsaken state) by the time I lower the book again to see what the outside world has been up to. There's what appears to be a path leading into the trees, just barely large enough for a car to fit through, which is apparently what we're going to try to do.

"Please tell me this isn't where we're staying." Nerissa whines, making me immediately wish I were still lost in my fictional world.

"There's a house at the top," my mom's younger sister, Carolyn answers matter-of-factly. Much like me and my siblings, she has all but given up on forcing herself to be nice to my cousin. "You'll be staying with the boy who lives there."

My ears perk up at that. "I thought we were staying in a hotel." not some fucking stranger who could be a homicidal maniac for all we know.

"That was before you broke your pelvis," my mother turns around, her blue eyes training as close to my hip as she can seeing as I'm hidden behind the back of the seats. "He'll help you out with getting around and stuff."

Oh, because she can't trust Greyson or Madeline to do that? I mean, I get Nerissa-the girl is a walking time bomb-but there's no way my younger siblings would let anything happen to me. And besides, I've been off crutches for nearly a week, now. It's not like I need someone hovering over my every move anymore.

"I don't need a babysitter." is what I say, however. "I'm nineteen-years-old."

"I know," my mother answers, with a smile. "Would it make you feel better if I said it's also because this will be free?"

"And that doesn't strike you as suspicious?"

"He's worked for Eric for almost ten years, Claudia. I'm sure it'll be fine. And even if you have troubles, we'll just be a phone call and fifteen minutes away."

I want to point out that fifteen minutes is more than enough time for him to kill us. I want to ask if we'll even get any service way out here.

But all thoughts leave my brain as the trees break and the house appears into view.