Three.

Two.

One –

Right on cue, a pained cry tore from his chest and he dropped to his knees right there in the middle of his bedroom floor.

I scrambled onto my knees and crawled over to him.

With his head bowed and his chest heaving, he reached for me, wrapping his arms around my waist so tight it was hard to breathe.

Crying hard and ugly, he buried his face against my stomach. "I h-hate h-him."

"Me too, D," I whispered, cradling his head to my belly. "Me too…"

6 Present Day

Molly

Throwing a party at my house was a risk that I knew I shouldn't be taking.

My father's absence while away on an extended business trip didn’t signify an absence of his rules. They were strict, extensive, and absolutely still in force.

Yeah, I was pretty sure I regretted my party before it even started.

I wasn't ordinarily a rulebreaker, nor did I relish in the prospect of disappointing my father, but when the opportunity to be a normal teenager for once, not to mention the possibility of spending a sliver of time with my old friend came my way, I took it.

At least that's what I told myself as I wandered through the party that not only represented my debauched and delayed passageway into adolescence, but my fall from grace as well.

"I didn’t imagine anyone would actually come," I admitted after I had squeezed through a few dozen classmates and found Mercy in the kitchen. The entire downstairs of my house was jampacked with kids from school, most of whom I was positive didn’t know my name.

With her long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, denim cut-offs, and a tight, pink tank clinging to her lush curves, Mercedes looked every inch the Floridian beach babe. Whether she cared to admit it or not, she fit in with these people.

The beautiful crowd.

The elite of Ocean Bay.

Me?

Not so much.

"Yeah? Well, this is what I imagine piss tastes like." Gagging, Mercy pressed a cup to her lips, making comical facial expressions as she forced herself to swallow the liquor down.

I didn’t drink, I'd never even had a sip of wine before tonight, however I found myself wholeheartedly agreeing with my friend as I, too, forced myself to drink the amber liquid in the cup she handed to me.

For a brief moment, I wondered what Pastor Michaels would think if he saw me now, before quickly batting the notion away. I could atone for my sins in the morning.

Tonight, I would enjoy fulfilling them – even if I felt acutely out of place in my own freaking home.

"It…burns," I choked out with a shudder.

"It sure does," she mused, scowling mistrustfully at my father's top shelf bottle of scotch that was sitting on the counter in front of her. "Burning piss."

"True that."

"Hey, are you sure your dad's cool with this?" she asked then, glancing around us.