A/N: Finally that tupid campfire pop up went away and i can actually post this chapter which i had to write after getting over the hurdle of writers block for over a week! sorry if its a little suckish, but i had to put some humour back into it because the last chapter was drama city (rack city bitch) So anyway, let me know what you think people in the comments below!

Thank you to vintagecharm for the amazing banner its adorable i love it!

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I slept rougher than a handcuffed paedophile in a crèche that night.

After Drake stormed out of the bar, the guys decided it was best to go out and find him before Drake pulled a Drake and did something that would get him sent straight back to his cell just to let out some anger.

Seriously when Drake got pissed, he would smash a car window with baseball bat.

The guy had never heard of just punching a pillow.

I offered to go with them, and they had to awkwardly tell me that probably wasn’t the best idea considering I am basically the reason all of this has kicked off anyway. They had a point, but it still hurt a little when they pointed that out. They took me home before they went looking for him, and I was stood outside my door for about fifteen minutes before I plucked up the courage to go in and face my brother.

I didn’t even need to worry though because he was in bed when I got home. In a way, I was so thankful because I don’t think I could have gone for round two. That would have been the knockout round for me; I had no energy left in me to fight with my brother anymore.

Jimmy text me a few hours after I got in bed to say they couldn’t find him, and I actually find myself tossing and turning in bed worrying about the stupid moron. This was his home, my brother had kicked him out of it so where else is he going to go? He hates going to his actual house so what other options did the boy have?

Somehow I don’t see him joining a youth club to hang out there and play monopoly and boggle.

I must have had about two hours sleep before I finally gave up and rolled out of my pit. Once I got dressed and put enough make up to hide the fact I was more sleep deprived than a vampire, I made my way downstairs.

I walked in to the kitchen and froze on the spot as I saw Lacey sat on the island eating a bowl of coco pops. She was in the same clothes as she was wearing last night and she looked about as well rested as I was.

Her eyes looked up at me, and at first I could tell she was still pissed. After a few seconds I saw her sigh and give me a small smile, obviously seeing the state I was in right now.

“You look like you’ve had the mandatory 8 hours rest.” She commented sarcastically, and I scoffed.

“Oh yeah, slept like a baby.” I reply dryly before walking into the kitchen and making up a bowl of coco pops. Nothing a bowl of these couldn’t solve.

Unfortunately, that was the rule when you were about 8. When you're a little older it takes more than awesome chocolate breakfast cereals to make your day fine again. I hate growing up.

I take a seat on the island opposite her, and at first it is awkward as neither of us know what to say. I found myself feeling quite happy for her though, obviously she stayed with Nate last night which meant they were probably back to normal.

I know I should feel pissed, calling my brother a hypocrite for having such a go at Drake and I and then going home to bang Lacey again, but I didn’t. At the end of the day, as Nate has already said, he had the curtesy to ask me before he hooked up with Lacey.

Drake and I were the assholes in this situation.

“Before you start letting that dirty mind of yours wonder off, no I did not sleep with your brother last night.” Lacey suddenly says, reading my thoughts. That girl really did know me too well.

I looked at her confused “You didn’t? You’re rocking the night before clothes, the walk of shame uniform you could say?” I joked, and she smiled slightly.

“Nope, nothing happened. When he was driving me home he looked pretty down so I offered to stay with him, but as a friend, nothing else.” She explained “No benefits.” She added with a smile.

“Wow, that’s a first, Lacey and Nate sharing a bed and not getting dirty.” I shake my head in disbelief.

“I couldn’t, no the state he was in last night. It would have been like taking advantage of a drunk person, morally wrong.” She told me, before a look of surprise came over her face “Fuck, I have morals.”

I let out a laugh, before I completely took in her words “He was that bad then?”

She looked up at me “He was pretty upset. He was pissed as well, I mean the two people he thought he could trust more than anyone lied to him.” A pang of guilt shot through me “But he was mostly upset. I don’t think anyone really realised how hard it was for him to kick Drake out like that.”

I looked down at the bowl of coco pops, taking in her words. It would have been hard for my brother. He knew how hard Drake’s had it and considering how close they were, it would have been just as hard for him as it would have for Drake.

“He’ll calm down though and they will sort it out. It’s Nate and Drake for god sake, they used to call themselves the musketeers and apparently they were so awesome that they sold the third member so they could buy porn.” I laughed at the memory, reminding myself just how close they were. In a way, I was trying to convince myself that it would get sorted.

Lacey looked at me unsure “I don’t know this time Mia. You didn’t see him when we got here. He was a state. He kept saying if Drake really was a friend he wouldn’t have lied to him, and if he can lie about that what else can he lie about?”

“Drake wouldn’t lie to him about anything else.”

“So why did he lie about this?” Lacey countered, looking at me with a raised brow. I hesitated to answer because I suddenly realised we were now also talking about our friendship.

“I don’t know…I guess at first we thought it was just a slip, then it kept happening…” I started to explain, trying to come to terms with it myself “…Then I thought if Nate did find out he would kill us both with his bare hands.”

Lacey looked at me quietly as she listened “Then why did you lie to me?”

I hesitated before I replied “I have absolutely no idea. I guess I thought the less people knew the less chance there would be of anyone finding out.”

She looked at me with her scrutinising eyes, studying my face carefully. Suddenly, she spoke.

“Bullshit.”

I blinked in surprise at her oh so subtle response “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit. You knew if you told me there would be no risk of me telling a single soul because I am that awesome at being a best friend, so don’t give me that ‘less chance of anyone finding out’ crap. The reason you didn’t tell me is because I know you too well. I know you better than you know yourself you stubborn moron.” She was smirking at me now, a smug look on her face “You like him.”

I don’t think I was blinking anymore I was so shocked at the profanity that just came out of her mouth.

“Excuse me?” I found myself repeating in disbelief.

Her smug smirk widened “You like Drake. That’s why you lied to me, it’s because you knew that I would know and that meant you would actually have to face the fact that you have feelings for the boy who you have referred to as ‘a vile excuse for the male gender’ for the last 5 years.”

My mouth was hanging open “That is ridiculous.”

“Is it? Okay well tell me this then, why didn’t you get any sleep last night?” Lacey asks, placing her elbow on the counter and her chin on her first, waiting patiently for me to reply.

“Because of everything that happened last night.” I answered like it was an obvious answer, which it was.

“It wasn’t because you know Drake was out on those streets somewhere with nowhere to go?” she asks sweetly, like she already knew the answer.

I opened my mouth to reply but I suddenly realised the stupid bint was right. I was worried about the whole situation sure, but one of the main worries I had was whether or not Drake was going to get thrown back in a cell by the morning. I knew Nate and I would work it out, it would take a while but we were brother and sister. We would always sort it out, so yeah I had to admit worry number one was whether or not the next time we see Drake would be through a glass window in a prison visiting room.

“Mother of fuck.” I cursed to myself as it all dawned on me. I was staring at my bowl of coco pops, which were now so soggy they looked like melted poo.

Screw you coco pops, you’re meant to help me.

“I believe I have made my point.” Lacey smiles smugly before returning to her own cereal and happily taking a mouthful.

I genuinely thought it was just sex. I mean Drake was hot, I was a teenage girl and we both had hormones. It was a good arrangement and that’s what I thought it was. Sex. Just two animals not being able to control themselves.

Turns out I’ve turned into one of the dogs from Lady and The Tramp. They didn’t just go at it doggy style like any other normal canine, they shared freaking spaghetti. Spaghetti! Those assholes had feelings for each other.

I laughed mentally as I tried to figure out which character would be me and which would be Drake. I mean, we were both technically tramps.

I shook my head, stopping myself. Do not start assigning Disney characters to the both of you, you dweeb. You are better than this.

I shoot my eyes to Lacey, pointing at her whilst gritting my teeth “You tell a soul about this I’ll kill you then beat you to death.”

She resisted the urge to laugh at my totally rational threat, before pretending to zip her mouth up.

“My lips are sealed. Secrets safe with me.” She smiles happily “The earth is right again, you are telling me your deepest darkest shit.”

I found myself breathing a laugh, realising she was right. I did feel better knowing I actually have her to talk to about this.

“Are we okay now?” I ask hopefully, not wanting to argue with her anymore.

She smiled “Yeah we’re fine. Just don’t lie to me ever again and if you have any secrets, any at all, I mean even if you have a spot on your ass I want to know about it. I'm the best friend, I have a right.”

I let out a laugh, before holding my fist out to her. She bumps hers with mine before turning back to her cereal. I breathed a sigh of relief, smiling to myself as I thanked to gods we we’re okay. I need Lacey. She was like a limb, sure I could survive without her but life would never be the same again.

I owed it to her to be completely honest with her from now on. And I would start now.

“You know you said you wanted to know everything? Even if I had a spot on my ass?” I ask her innocently, and she immediately plants her eyes on me, freezing with a mouthful of cereal.

“Yebh?” She responds, a bit of milk actually dribbling down her chin as she speaks with a mouthful.

I let out a nervous laugh “Well it’s not a spot, but I do have something else on my ass…”

I got up off my stool and proceeded to pull down my sweatpants, uncovering the tattoo Drake gave me last week.

And that is how I ended up having to give my best friend the Heimlich Manoeuvre while she choked on coco pops at eight in the morning.

I guess when you’re older they really cause more problems than they solve.

--

I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. I made it to midday before I realised I had to check up on the moron or I was going to start shredding my own skin off in agitation.

It was a weird morning. After Lacey almost choked to death, I had to spend the next hour filling her in on every single detail of any moment Drake and I were alone together. Replaying it back to her, it suddenly dawned on me Drake and I were alone far too much.

Nate got out of bed at around half ten, and that’s when the awkward part of the morning began. He talked to me sure, but it wasn’t the way he normally was. His answers and sentences were short and clipped, and you could tell he was pissed. I didn’t even react because I knew he needed time to get over it. I would too if the two closest people to me lied to my face for weeks.

I eventually left the house taking a bus, a freaking bus, to Drake’s house. Don’t get me wrong I have absolutely no problem with public transport, but you need to understand buses around my area were more like crack dens on wheels. They stunk of urine, weed and sweat. Believe me, that is a cologne no man wants to buy. And it’s always a guarantee you will have some creepy bearded guy sit behind you sniffing your hair every 30 seconds.

I didn’t tell Nate I was going to Drake’s, although I'm gathering he guessed because I grabbed the two overstuffed bin bags full of Drake’s clothes Nate packed up last night. There was still more stuff in the house which I'm gathering Nate missed, and I was quite thankful considering I am a small girl. I may act like a dude, but apparently I have no upper body strength. Unless it involves hitting someone in the face, but that’s normally fuelled by anger and hate.

Lacey was still at the house. I was really thankful she was staying with Nate while he was so down. Anyone else would have laughed and watched smugly as Nate suffered after what he put her through, but you can clearly tell Lacey still cares about him or she wouldn’t be around. They aren’t even hooking up for Christ sake. That’s when you know its love, when you hang out and aren’t even getting orgasms out of it.

I was rooting for those assholes more than Ross and Rachel on the last episode of Friends.

I finally got off the shuttle bus of hell, and instantly recognised Drake’s house. I hadn’t been here in years, but when we were younger Nate and I used to call on him all the time to get him to come out. We used to walk then because our father warned us to stay away from the paedophile mobile which was the local bus.

I knocked on the front door, trying to balance and not fall flat on my ass as I tried to hold onto the bin bags. After a few minutes, the door flew open and a woman who looked like she had less sleep than I did last night was looking me over in curiosity.

“Mia?” Drake’s mum asked unsure.

I smiled at her “Hey Mrs O’Connell, how are you?”

“Please, don’t call me that.” She informs me with a look of disgust on her face as I realise I referred to her in her married name “Call me Mel.”

“Sorry, old habits die hard.” I inform her, remembering when we were younger we used to call her that all the time. I didn’t even know her first name was Mel. I couldn’t help but notice how rough she looked. Her hair was messy, she had big bags under her eyes which were badly bloodshot from what I'm guessing is lack of sleep. She was holding the big knitted cardigan around her waist like it was protecting her from a snowstorm.

“You sure have grown up, last time I saw you you were wearing a pink top with a horse on it.” She remembered, and I laughed. I freaking used to love that shirt. I even named the horse. Carrot.

Holy crap I was a nerdy child.

“I’m wearing it under this top don’t worry.” I joke, and she lets out a chuckle “Is Drake in?”

All humour in her face vanished at the mention of her son, and I stare at her in surprise as I see the look of genuine fear in her face.

“He’s upstairs.” She replied, looking over her shoulder as if waiting for a wild animal to come charging at her. She turns back to me “He came home early this morning, I think he was drunk.”

“What do you mean think?” I ask. Either he was drunk or he wasn’t.

“I stayed in my room until I knew he was in his.” She explained, and I had to stop my jaw from falling open. “I found blood on the kitchen counter this morning as well. Do you think I should call the police?”

“No!” I instantly reply, resisting the urge to slap her in her face.

“What if he hurt someone?” She asks me, and I could tell she was genuinely worried. Her voice was a whisper as if she didn’t want him to hear.

“Or he could have hurt himself?” I suggest, amazed that a mother would not have that as their first worry. Most mothers would be banging down the door with a first aid kit after seeing blood that could possibly mean their child is hurt. Drake’s mum locks herself in her room until he was out of sight. “Look don’t call the police, I’ll talk to him. I’m sure he didn’t hurt anyone okay?”

She looks at me for a few more seconds for reassurance, and then nods her head. I suddenly feel a pang of sympathy for her, as well as wanting to tell her what a stupid bitch she was. It was obvious the woman had been through a lot. You could tell by her eyes. She must have been in her forties but she had eyes that said she had been through more shit than an eighty year old war hero.

I walked into the house and made my way up the stairs, struggling to remember which room was Drake’s.

Suddenly, I heard a noise that resembled a wild mammoth about to attack a blender with a nail in it.

I followed the snoring, and sure enough I walked into the room that currently had a passed out Drake face first on top of his bed in the same clothes he left the bar in last night.

I shook my head as I spotted the empty Jack Daniels bottle on the floor by the bed. I threw the bin bags in the corner and let my eyes scan the room. It was a pretty basic room, the walls were bare apart from the odd poster that you could tell had been there since before Drake got sent away because the edges of the paper were rolling in and ripped. There was empty beer bottles on top of his wardrobe and apart from a few clothes, deodorant cans and hair stuff, the room could have been mistaken for abandoned. It didn’t look like anybody stayed here.

Which was probably because they didn’t. Drake’s room was at our house, not here.

And after seeing how his mum reacts just by hearing his name, I can understand why.

I walk over to the bed, thinking of the best way to wake him up as I knew he was probably extremely hungover right now.

“FIRE!” I scream at the top of my lungs, and his body instantly reacts as he jumps out of his sleep. It takes him a few seconds to realise what was going on as he looks around the room, then his eyes land on me and he groans loudly, flopping on his back and placing his forearm over his eyes.

“Have you ever heard of gently shaking someone awake?” he groans.

I shrug “Yes I have, but this way I save at least 20 seconds of my life as you always wake up so fast.”

“Thinking you’re about to burn to death does that to a man.” He responds.

I was just about to reply with another sarcastic comment when I notice his hand. I sit on the edge of the bed automatically and take his bleeding hand, bringing it closer to me as I inspect the damage.

“What the hell did you do you fucking idiot?” I ask in shock as I see his knuckles all cut up. It was mostly dry blood as you can tell he did this at some point last night, but it was still quite a vile sight.

I notice his eyes on me intently as I held his hand for inspection, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

I look up at him and raise my brows impatiently, waiting for an answer “Well?”

“I had a really vicious wank before bed?” he replies, and I grit my teeth as I resist the urge to slice his throat.

“That would make you the ultimate wanker, but seriously what the hell happened? Your mum seems to think you’ve