Author's note: Robin and Jamie have a scene where they talk about what's expected of women. This scene is inspired from my own mother and heritage, and how women are seen as baby makers and wifes before as people with their own ideas and goals. This scene and chapter have been planned from the beginning of the book, and I hope everyone interprets it in a way that relates to them.

Jamie's POV

When my green eyes open, they immediately land on Riley. He's asleep across from me, his body uncomfortably curled up on the lowered driver's seat, with his boots hanging off the edge. His dark head uses the headrest as a makeshift pillow, leaving his cut up face directly in front me.

In the same position, Robin restlessly sleeps on the passenger seat by my feet. Her eyes frantically bobbling under her smudged smokey eye lids, making me wonder if this is how she falls asleep sober. Today might be the first time I see her without a hangover in the morning.

I don't remember when or how I stretched out across the backseat. I don't remember Robin and Riley draping their black hoodie and leather jacket over me like a blanket either.

The car is frigid with the December weather. So freezing all the windows are coated with a thin layer of frost. Carefully sitting up, I try not to make a sound or stir Killer awake, who is using me for warmth, tightly curled up against me under Riley's hoodie. My joints groan in protest as I straighten out, the back of my neck, my lower back, and my knees feeling like someone took a baseball bat to them.

The overwhelming need for space has my hand on the door before I realize, letting in a harsh blast of ice cold air. Stretching my legs out on the icy concrete, I knot my arms around myself, my dusty sweater not enough to stay warm. The car is parked under an overpass, the blaring car honks and shrieking brakes on the highway above floats down below and hurts my ears.

We need a shower. We need a change of clothes. We need food and water. We need heat.

We need a home.

Blinking back the tears pooling in my eyes, the lost of my apartment hits twice as hard, nearly knocking the breathe out of me. I lost the one place that I built with my own two hands and hard work. I moved in all the furniture myself. I hammered in every nail, repainted every stroke of paint on the walls because the super, Mr. Miller is too old. I turned the nothingness when my grandmother died, and put my own roof over my head.

Now it's a crime scene. Rendered unlivable by bullets and broken pieces.

I feel so small. I have nothing again.

"Hey miss," I nearly jump a foot in the air. I thought I was alone. "Hey miss, do you have change you can spare? I haven't eaten in days." A homeless guy too young to be homeless limps towards me, clinging onto a ratty blanket with holes. Unshaven, his dark beard is untamed by his jugular, matching his unkept, matted hair. His clothes so dirty I doubt that's their original color.

He's looks about my brother's age, hitting a soft spot at the back of my heart. He's so young, it makes me wonder who in his life doesn't care that he's sleeping on the streets? Why doesn't his family care? Why aren't his loved ones intervening? He reminds of Riley's family kicking him out, and how they didn't care how he lived out of his car.

"Here Jordy," Robin climbs out of the car, handing off her lighter. "Don't take her money. I know you're not really going to spend it on food."

"Do you have anything else?" The homeless guy - Jordy - asks.

"Cleaned out," Robin starts. "Riley and I aren't here to sell today. Take this instead." Robin empties out her pockets, dropping all her cash into his hands. "Go buy yourself a winter coat or something." Waving him off, Robin props herself on top of the hood of Riley's blue car, glancing up at the grey winter sky.

"Come here often?" My voice comes out as raspy, my breath coming out a huff of misty smoke.

"To sum it up, this isn't my first or last time I've woken up under an overpass." Robin simply says, shrugging on her leather jacket.

"Is this normal for you?" I start, my voice a murmur. It's hard to keep the worry out of my voice. I'm fully prepared to offer her a permanent bed at my place... till it hits me again that I don't have a home anymore. "Do you start everyday waking up in random places?"

"When you say it like that, I sound like a bit of a whore." Robin bitterly laughs, rubbing her smeared smokey eye off with the palm of her hand.

"I didn't mean to."

"I know you didn't," she starts, offering me a sad smile. "It's just one of those things that comes off wrong. A sexually active woman not in a committed relationship? Slutty. A woman not planning what she wants to do for the rest of her life? Irresponsible. Yeah, I drink every night, but it's the only way I fall asleep at night. Yeah, I sell drugs, but it's how I make a living, something a minimum wage can't do. Yeah, I wake up everyday in someone else's bed, but I don't have my own bed or my own place, I only have Nate... and Riley. And yes, all of those have bad consequences. Girls like you and I, Jamie, we're not suppose to be untraditional, or unconventional. We're suppose to be co-eds. We're suppose to be thinking about our wedding day, what we'd name our future kids, or waiting for "the right guy" to come into our life's. We're not suppose to be individuals wanting things for ourselves or figuring life our own way."

I have gotten that judgement too. People think of me less because I'm not seeking higher education, but I can't afford college. People keep telling me that I should grow out of my tomboy phase, but I feel prettier in a pair leggings at work than any over priced dress. People keep telling to be more available so I can meet "the one", but I don't care about that, I'm more preoccupied with my full time job because I'm scraping by.

People judge because they can't comprehend how I have no one else but me and my own two hands to focus on.

"I really wish I had a cigarette right now." Robin breathes, rubbing her arms for warmth.

Well, I don't think I have no else anymore.

"Maybe we can figure it out together," Ignoring how my butt immediately numbs from cold hood of the car, I try to keep Robin warm by pulling into a side hug. I didn't expect Robin to engulf me into a bear hug so tight she knocks the breathe out of me. "Dump Nate. Move in with me."

"Where are we suppose to live? My drug dealer boyfriend blew your apartment to be pieces. I can't be sorry enough about that strung out manic."

"I don't know," I'm not sure if my shuddering breath is from sadness or from the low temperatures. "There goes that down deposit." I try at a joke. Robin let's out a small laugh, but at least it was genuine.

"Maybe we should figure out what you're going to do when the police learn the apartment is in your name, and have to explain why an unregistered firearm made your apartment into a shooting range." Robin grumbles, lowering her dark head to rest on my shoulder.

"Maybe we should figure out where to get a shower first." I suggest, earning some grins from the both of us.

"Should we wake Riley up?" I question.

"Nah," I feel Robin's head nudge against my shoulder as she shakes her head. "Let him sleep while he can."

------

"What do you mean I can't go to work?" I question, from the backseat.

"The police are going to show up there looking for you. Let them and people think you went missing." Robin explains, but I can barely hear her over Riley'a cursing. With his shirt off, Riley tries to stay still as I pull out shards of glass out of his back. All torn up, his skin is covered in long, gruesome scrapes as if he'd been dragged down pavement. Despite the car running with the heat on at full blast, Riley trembles against my finger tips every time I touch him.

"What if they think I'm the one who did the shooting?" I ask.

"By now the police have detectives investigating. They probably asked the super or land lord, and other people in the building for a statement. I even bet your boss was questioned. All those people aren't going to describe you as hostile or violent or someone  who'd blast the place where they live to bits." Robin furthers, propping his feet up on the dash.

"Am I going to have to pretend I'm missing for the rest of my life?" It goes silent in the car. Green eyes widening, I grab hold of the nearest thing—Riley, who is directly in front of me—under my grip because he's solid and here, bringing me the slightest of comfort.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Jamie, ow!" Riley wreaths in pain under my too hard grip on his injured shoulders.

"Sorry." I wince, gently rubbing down his back. "Riley, you probably need medical attention."

"With what insurance?!" That's how we got into this whole mess...

"It's okay, I got it." Robin shrugs. "I'll just get some bandages and disinfect from a convince store or something."

"What if he needs stitches?" I question.

"He doesn't." Robin says, evaluating Riley's wounds with her blue eyes. I have a feeling she's been in this kind of situation too many times before. "If he does need any—which he doesn't—I can sew him up. I've done it loads of times."

"Why?"

"I don't have health insurance either." She smirks before climbing out of the car.

"Robin," I run out after her. Killer takes advantage of the open door, and jumps out. "Wait!" Killer catches up to Robin way before I do.

"Can you get some other stuff for me?" I question, tightening my arms around myself. As the sun slowly lowers, it's getting colder. Too cold. I'm not sure how we'll survive much longer out here.

"Is this you asking for drugs? Because the answer is going to be no."

"No," I wave off. "But I do have a difficult favor."

"Which is?"

"I need you get a few things from my apartment." I state slowly, gauzing her reaction in the dim lighting.

"What's so important you need me to break into what's probably taped off as a crime scene with caution tape?" I have Robin's interest, she's expecting a very, very good answer.

"For starters, the canned dog food for Killer." Picking the golden retriever off his paws, I hug him to my chest to fight off a shiver. "Help yourself to any of my coats or scarfs if they don't have bullet holes in them. Some food or water would help. Honestly, whatever isn't in an evidence locker."

"What's the catch? What do you really want to ask me?"

"This is going to sound stupid," I start, the rotten feeling of selfishness hurts like a toothache. "Could you check if these pictures aren't ruined? The only pictures of my parents, my grandma, all the letters from my brother are in a stack on the highest shelf in my room. Could you just make sure they're not-" Throat tightening up, I can't bare to finish. I can't even force another word out till I'm sure my voice won't shake.

"I'll check on them for you." Robin gives my elbow a reassuring squeeze, her touch making my voice steady again.

"They're the only copies I have." I admit in a low voice.

"I'll make sure to stash them someplace where not even the cops will find them." Robin promises.

"I need you to get one more thing for me," I start, glancing over my shoulder at Riley waiting in the car. "Something hidden."

------

An hour ago, I realized Riley hasn't said much to me all day.

Riley and I sit in almost complete silence. Besides the humming of the radio, we sit in the driver and passenger seats in the dark. The glow of headlights from cars above occasionally aluminate the car enough for me to make out the lines of his face, like the curve of his nose or the shape of his lips.

"Is the battery going to die? Or are we going to run out of gas? It's been running all day." I finally break the silence. Robin truly is the life of the party. I didn't realize she was keeping the conversation going till she was gone.

"You're right." He inaudibly mumbles, the cold instantly starting to seep in when the engine turns off. With the radio off now, the silence feels heavier. So heavy it's as if it has an actual weight is bearing down on us, causing me to slouch from the pressure.

"I'm going for a walk." Unable to stay in this car for another second, I start to get out of the car.

"Where are you going?" Finally speaking to me, Riley stops me by catching my elbow.

"I'm not sure," I shrug. "I just haven't left the car all day. We don't know how long Robin is going to be either. So, I'm just going to go around the block or something." I explain, needing to do something. I can't work. I can't go home. I can't do anything that'll fix this.

"I'll go with you," Riley pulls on his black hoodie over his dark head. "Just in case." He adds, putting a leash on Killer. I want to ask, just in case of what, but don't bother asking. We step into immediate silence. Almost just like before, except instead of the radio, the sound of rock salt and ice crunching under our shoes fills the space between us. I've never been much of a talker, but talking with Riley has always been easy, yet this is making my heart heavy.

The first block was in complete silence. So was the second. I try to focus on trying not to go ankle deep in the snow, or how cold I feel, but Riley's silence is starting to feel sharp and pointed; it's starting to feel like the ugly, bruising feeling of being ignored.

"I'm sorry," Riley suddenly comes to a dead halt. Surprised, I try not to trip over Killer as I stumble to a stop. "I'm so sorry, Jamie."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault. All of it. If it weren't for me, Nate would have never wrecked your apartment. If it weren't for me you wouldn't be sleeping in my car in the December. I'm sorry for everything. It's all my fault. If you didn't know me at all you-"

"Don't take his blame, Riley" I cut him off.

"But-" He looks like he's either going to break out in a scream or tears, or all the above.

"You weren't the one who pulled out a gun," I brave a step further. "You weren't the one who pulled the trigger. He was. You were the one who dove on top of me when Nate pulled the trigger... you were the one who would have taken a bullet for me. And thank god you didn't."

I need Riley to understand.

"He took your home from you." Riley breathes, looking down at me with bloodshot eyes as if he's fighting to keep back angry tears.

"Our home." I correct. Riley looks at me like he's looking at me for the first time. I want to release him from this self loathing... this burdening guilt...this torment of not forgiving himself. Lacing our cold hands together, the touch of his hands more ice than warm, Riley grips onto me like he won't let go. I give his hand a squeeze back, trying to silently tell him how much he matters to me.

"Let me show you something," guiding me, Riley takes me down a street with Killer trailing at our feet. "I can't really take you home, which is a huge bummer since Christmas is coming around the corner. But I know this one block in this neighborhood that might make you feel better." I see the lights before he even has to tell me.

"I know we promised about the Christmas tree," He doesn't even finish, he doesn't need to. House after house is ablaze with so many Christmas lights, it's as if every shackle is glowing. From rain gutters, to windows, to chimneys... it's like being in a Christmas aisle at a store.

We weren't the only ones gawking. Families and couples take photos from the sidewalk as if this is sight seeing. I shoot Riley an excited grin, the grin he's returns improving my mood. As we walk along, it's as if each house is more decorated than the last.

"Cold?" Riley asks, noticing how my hands are shaking before I do. I try to manage a shake of my head but feel my teeth start to chatter. "Your nose is so red you could be a Rudolph decoration." Riley adds, digging something out of his pocket.

"This will help."

"You still have it?" I gasp, feeling my heart soar. In his out stretched hand sits the black glove I gave him from when he snuck me into the ice rink at closing. It's our inside joke... a

"I thought you lost it when you went to New York."

"No," shakes his head. "I always have it stashed in the glove compartment. Do you have the other?"

"You know I how don't ever leave the house without my keys?" I pull my houses keys from my front pocket as proof. Then I pull the folded up glove from my back pocket. "I never leave the house without the glove either. I usually keep it in my coat pocket."

Tugging our individual gloves on, we join hands, the gloves a matching set once again. The cold doesn't bother me as much anymore. Joined by the hands, we walk the block, so close our shoulders keep brushing. This time the silence isn't unbearable, but easy.

"Jamie," he starts once we reach the end of the block. "You should stop being in my life." My mouth drops in an inaudible cry. "End it, Jamie. Stop talking to me. Cut me out of your life. Pretend you never meet me."

"Wha—Riley, no." Stuttering, I feel my hand slip out from his. Clenching up, my heart stops beating all together in my chest for a moment.

"I think you should go to your brother's, stay with him and never see me again." Riley speaks so lowly and gently I barely hear him over the wind, looking down at me with a pair of sad eyes. He's scaring me. He's not pushing me away in a fit of rage, he means it. He means every word.

"How can I? How can I just walk away and act like you were never in my life?" I struggle for my usual voice of reason, but it feels like everything is rushing around me.

"Someone aimed a gun at you. They shoot up your apartment. Now, you're about to go into hiding to pretend you're missing. That's too much on anybody, Jamie. Go to your brother's, start over, move on from me." Riley gives me a weak grin, like he's really trying to comfort me. It just makes me feel worse than anything else.

"Ours," I nod to myself as if I'm trying to convince him. "It's not mine. It's ours. And what about you? What about Robin? What about Nate?" Does Riley expect me to just go off to my brother's and leave them behind? Where are they going to go? Is Robin just going to back to Nate? Is Riley going to continue selling for him like some lackie?

"When you get to your brother's," I can't bare how he says when, as if it's definite. "Don't tell anyone about