"Are you done, asshole?" Mercy hissed back. "Because I sure as hell am."

"No!" Moments later, Rourke came bounding down the hallway, not stopping until he was chest to chest with my feisty friend. "As a matter of fact, I ain't fuckin' done!"

Still clearly furious with each other, the argument started right back up where they had left off in the cafeteria earlier, with Mercy producing an epic display of 'gun fingers' while she chewed him out.

Rolling my eyes, I stepped to one side and watched their unceremonious outburst, burying a snicker when Mercedes reached up and yanked on his school tie.

"Say it again and I'll choke you," she warned, pulling and yanking on his tie in her bid to cut off her stepbrother's air supply. "Don't fuck with me, prick."

Never one to back down from a challenge, Rourke reached around her and knotted his fist in her long, black ponytail.

"Keep it up, Six," he dared, tugging on her hair and forcing her face to tilt upwards. "And I'll make you scream louder than you did this morning," he said, smirking down at her. "Twice."

Deciding to leave them to their…well, whatever the hell that was, I walked out of school and headed for the student parking lot to where Mercy was parked. I wasn’t sure how long she would be, but I didn’t have any plans after school so waiting for her to give me a ride home wasn’t a big deal to me.

Fiddling with my iPod, I clicked on Freya Ridings' Lost Without You and inhaled a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I immersed myself in the haunting lyrics, in the melancholy in her voice, as she sang the words that I connected so deeply with.

Suddenly, I knew he was there.

I could sense him.

I felt his shoulder brush against mine moments before he leaned on the hood of the car, invading my personal space with his big body, but still, I kept my eyes closed.

His jean clad thigh brushed against mine and he didn’t pull away. No, he kept it there; our bodies aligned beneath the clothes we were wearing.

"I love this song," I finally said, removing one ear pod and holding it out to him.

Daryl took it and held it to his ear. "I think I'm lost without you?"

A shiver rolled through me.

Me too.

"Do you still sing?" he asked then, returning my ear pod to me.

I shrugged and popped them into my pocket along with my iPod. "Only in the shower."

"That's too bad." He playfully nudged my shoulder with his. "You were good."

"Bull crap." Laughing, I nudged him back. "You used to tell me that my singing reminded you of nails on a chalkboard."

Now he was the one to chuckle. "Yeah, but the best nails on a chalkboard I'd ever heard."

"Douchebag," I grumbled, playfully digging him in the ribs.

"Nerd," he shot back with a pained grunt.