I grasped the wooden poles of the staircase, looking at my father with wide eyes as I hid in the shadows. He stood in front of the front door with his work suit on and two suitcases beside him, but he didn't tell Luke and I he was going on a business trip. The sparkling lights from the Christmas tree blinked against the wall beside the front door, making the whole scene look joyous and happy. But I knew better.

My father was standing at the front door looking at my mother, who was begging him for something, I don't know. "Marie, I'm done."

My mom began crying, and the sound made me inch further up the stairs to make sure I was out of sight. "Richard, please."

"I'm done with you, with this job, with these kids. I'm done, Marie." He yells roughly and shakes his head vehemently. "This isn't what I wanted. You're not what I wanted."

My father yanks the door open and grabs his suitcases. Without another look back at my crying mother, his crying wife, he stepped outside. I could see a taxi waiting out front and frowned. Where was dad going? A bad feeling built up in the pit of my stomach when the door slammed shut and my mom tried to suffocate her sobs with her hands.

I woke up gasping for air, my eyes flinging wide open and heart hammering against my chest. Sweat was rolling off of my forehead and beaded against my hairline. Sitting up in bed, I took a second to catch my breath, wishing that I would stop having the same nightmare so frequently. Unfortunately, the worst part was that it wasn't even really a nightmare: it was a memory.

My head began to ache as it usually does when I wake up after a bad dream and I nurse it in my hands. I sit in bed, gently massaging my own temples, as I mentally calm myself down. It's just another stupid dream. It's okay. After what felt like hours of repeating the same words in my head, the alarm on my phone goes off beside my bed.

School was definitely not an appealing prospect, but I knew I had to go. If I didn't go to school every time I woke up from that awful dream, then I would've missed half the school year already. So I suck it up and got dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a long sleeve tight black shirt that laced up the front on the chest area and then paired it with black heel booties.

Mom made Luke and I breakfast again this morning, but unlike Wednesday morning, I was silent. My mind was swimming and no matter how hard I tried to mask it all with a smile, I failed. I was too preoccupied with my thoughts as I always was after the recurring memory. And I came to the same question that I always did: why did he leave us? Why was he done with us?

"Lauren," Luke complains in between bites of his omelet. "Go outside so Nathan stops beeping." 

His words pull me out of my own head and I hear the vague sound of a car horn coming from outside. I get up robotically and grab my backpack before kissing my mom on the cheek. "See you after school, mom."

She kisses me back and says in an overly cheerful voice, "I love you, hun. Have a good day!"

I hesitate in front of the front door, momentarily seeing my father standing there with his suitcases, but then I blinked and he was gone, just a fading memory of that day. With a sigh, I open the door and trudge towards Nathan's car. He's standing outside, leaning against the car to wait for me. When I approach, I look up at him and force a smile.

"Hey," I greet weakly. "Sorry for taking a while."

Before I can round the car and go to the passenger side door, Nathan's large hand wraps around my wrist. I look up at him questioningly, but his brow is furrowed and there's a frown on his face.

"What's wrong?" Nathan asks sincerely as his eyes search my face, probably looking for an answer there. 

Any other time, I would've smiled brighter and gotten myself together. I would've said don't worry and that I just wasn't feeling too well. I would've ignored the subject of my father completely, and not even indulged  in the real answer to the question. I would've made up some dumb lie that was easily believable and wallow in my own thoughts.

I would've done that before. But this was Nathan, and for some strange reason, I didn't even think about lying. I merely smiled a weak smile and said, "Sad house stuff."

When his grip loosened, I slipped my wrist out of his hold and continue walking to the passengers seat. He meets me in the car with the same thoughtful look on his face, his gaze burning a hole through me, but I don't meet his eyes. Instead, I buckle myself in while taking deep, even breaths, and counting the minutes until the day was over. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Nathan asks cautiously, his voice full of genuine sincerity, and when I finally met his gaze, the concern reflected in his eyes. 

Even though I didn't mind telling Nathan the truth about what was wrong, I wasn't jumping at the opportunity to spill my guts at eight in the morning. Nonetheless, a real smile graced my lips, and Nathan's concern relieved my unease at least a little bit.

"Not really," I murmur softly. "Thank you though, Nathan."

He nods once, almost uncomfortably, before he refocuses his attention to turning the car on. The car ride is relatively quiet between the two of us with only the sounds of John Mayer floating through the radio to bridge the silence. I kept my head resting on the cool window of his car with my eyes shut as I tried to get a few minutes of rest before my surely hectic day.

As I sat there with my eyes shut and listening to the soft hums of the radio, I thought about the dynamic between Nathan and I. This whole time, I had been intrigued by the fact he showed me another side to him, one that was fairly kind and thoughtful, without giving him anything in return. But now I realize that he sees a different side of me, too.

He doesn't see the bullshit I give to people in the hallways who pretend to be my friend despite the fact we never spoke before this year. He doesn't get the same hateful glares when I hear whispering and feel the weight of the stares. I actually show Nathan the real side of me, the side that isn't changed by the social experiment. 

When he pulls into his spot in the first row of the parking lot, Nathan kills the engine and sits in his seat for another moment. I open my eyes and turn to him to notice that he looks like he wants to say something but isn't quite sure how. His eyes shift to me and, when he sees me already watching him curiously, he sighs.

"If you, uh, ever want to talk..." Nathan trails off as he rubs the back of his neck. "I'm here."

I smile widely at the thoughtfulness behind his poorly communicated sentiment. "Thanks, Nate."

He lowers his arm and chuckles, visibly relaxing. "Anytime, kitten."

As we walk toward the school together, I can't help but feel lighter, like some of my worries were lifted. And when I glance to my left and see Nathan there, I know that he's to thank for that.

* * *

The first half of the day slipped by without me paying attention to any of my classes. My mind was in a far off place and I couldn't be bothered to interrupt it because of calculus. I sat in the back of my last class before lunch with my chin resting in my hand, not at all paying attention to the board. Instead I was thinking about my father, wondering where he was now and what he was doing.

The bell rang and cut me off of my daydreaming stupor, and when it did, I gathered my things slowly and left the classroom. As I walk down the halls with a blank face, ignoring the hellos thrown in my direction by unknown students, I begin to feel sick. My head begins to ache an uneasiness in my stomach settles. This has happened before: I quite literally worry myself sick.

My mind continues to wander about my father as I walk to my locker. Where was he now? Did he have a new family? What drove him to leave? Was it my fault?

"Hey Collins," A familiar deep voice calls.

I freeze at the last question in my head. Was it my fault?

"Collins, wait up!" The voice gruffly continues.

I can remember the moment my father left as clear as day. It haunts me in my dreams, reminding me that I'm not as put together as I try to appear to be. I can remember his exact words: "I'm done with these kids".

A hand closed around my arm and spins me around so I was facing the source of the deep voice calling me. Nathan frowned down at me and I blinked up at him in confusion. I tried to clear my head of the thoughts swimming around, but to no avail. I just blinked dumbly up at him while a nagging voice in my head pressed into the fault of my fathers disappearance.

"What are you thinking about, Lauren?" Nathan asks, and I could tell he meant business, not because his voice was deadly serious, but because he called me by my first name.

Not able to hold his gaze, my eyes fall, and I shrug. "My father."

I don't see Nathan's expression because as soon as the words leave me mouth, he's wrapped me up in a hug. I lean against his chest, thankful for the gesture and the comfort. Something feels so natural about the way our bodies fit together and how comfortable I feel in his arms. My eyelids drop and my arms lazily wrap back around him.

"I just had this dream last night and whenever I have it, it bothers me all day..." I trail off lamely, unsure of how to explain.

Nathan's grip tightens around me and his head dips so his lips are closer to my ear. "What is the dream?"

I hesitate before answering. "It's a shitty reoccurring memory about my father."

I don't tell him that it's the memory of my father walking out on us, my last memory of him, but I still reveal more to Nathan than I do to everyone besides Stephanie. The hallways were clear now but I wasn't paying attention to anything other than the material of Nathan's shirt that smelled like his regular musky scent. Smelling it was actually kind of calming.

"Is that why you were up at three in the morning on Tuesday?" Nathan probes unexpectedly.

So observant, Nathan. How could I think he would forget about our conversation?

"Kind of," I mumbled against his shirt.

He lets out a deep breath, our chests both rising and falling together with the movement. Neither of us made a move to get out of each other's arms; we were both contently holding each other, and it steadied the unease pooling in the corners of my mind.

"You need to make sure you're getting sleep. When people get overly stressed, they get really exhausted and don't sleep as much." The stony concern in his voice makes me laugh lightly. "I'm serious, Lauren."

I roll my eyes and feel the need to pull back so I can see his face as I tell him, "Says the guy that's hanging out with Luke and Holden at three in the morning."

Nathan frowned. "I wasn't hanging out with them." He must've realized his excuse was lame because he shook his head and backtracked. "Don't make this about me. You aren't getting enough sleep; you've looked tired for the past few days, I've noticed."

"Of course you did," I mutter begrudgingly and his lips quirk into a smirk.

Our arms are still wrapped loosely around each other and there's hardly any space between our bodies. I could feel his body heat radiating onto me, and noticed that he was still leaning down a little to be closer to my height. Nathan's head perks up and he glances back and forth in the hallway before settling his gaze on me again.

"We should skip the rest of the day," Nathan suggests spontaneously.

I shake my head as I let out a breath, but there's a small smile on my lips. "I can handle four more periods of school, Nathan."

He smiles and his dimple shows. "I know you can. But I think it's a good idea. You can take a nap while I finish up your car."

The idea sounds very, very appealing, so I don't deny it yet. Instead I counter his offer, which I'm sure he expected, because his half smile widened when he saw me open my mouth. "If I take a nap then you would have to drop me off, go to your house, come get me when you're done, and then I would drive back home."

"Not if you take a nap at my house," Nathan suggests casually.

A lazy smile appears on my lips. "Okay, you've made a very convincing case. I'll skip the rest of the day and nap at your house."

Nathan's eyes scanned my face as his smile widened, and I felt shy under his observant gaze. We're still close, our chests rising and falling inches away from each other. My chest catches up with our proximity and begins hammering wildly, and I'm genuinely nervous for a second that Nathan can hear it. My nerves made a blush begin to rise on my cheeks next.

In an attempt to hide my rosy cheeks, I press myself against Nathan again, wrapping my arms tighter to hug him. "Thanks, Nathan."

He tensely stands still for a moment before his muscles relax and arms tighten around me too. And I don't know if I'm imagining it or not, but his hold feels tighter this time around. "No problem, kitten."

I have to pull myself off shortly after in an attempt to not get lost in him. I took a step back hoping my cheeks were a normal shade again and glanced up at Nathan. The lightness in his eyes made me feel at ease immediately, and the small smile on his lips helped too.

"Let's go," Nathan murmurs lightly and we turn to start walking towards the parking lot.

While I usually struggle to keep up with his long strides, Nathan had slowed down and it walked at a leisurely pace today. There aren't many people in the hallway, but when we do pass someone, they stare right at us. I used to always see Nathan scowling at people in the hall that stared too long, but now he looked more relaxed. He paid them no mind, but just kept on walking beside me.

When we walked out of the front doors of the high school, I was pleasantly surprised to feel the warmth of the sun. I smiled to myself before we took a few more steps outside, and my smile quickly faded. Because sitting in her bright red convertible was Nina Alexander with Alex Fisher leaning against the car talking to her.

As much as I wished we could've walked past them without acknowledging each other, we couldn't. There was only one car in between Nina's and Nathan's, and it was Alex's. I felt Nathan tense beside me as we approach his car, and I can feel Nina's deadly glare before I turn to see it. Alex is watching Nathan with narrowed eyes, as if he may try something crazy at any time.

"Rhodes," Alex calls unexpectedly, crossing his arms and standing straighter. "I'll see you at the tracks tonight, yeah?"

Suddenly a smirk presents itself on Alex's face and it makes me feel uneasy. He looked so cynical and malicious that I frowned and took a step back, but only ran into the car on the other side of Nathan's. A high pitched snicker emits from Nina's car, and when I glance at her, I see she looks mischievous and smug. This was way too suspicious. Something isn't right.

"Before and after I kick your ass," Nathan says with a voice dripping in confidence, although I can tell from his rigid posture that he picked up on the same suspicion I had.

"Right. Good luck." Alex almost mocks.

Quickly, I round the car and get in, desperate to reveal to Nathan that something wasn't right, as he holds Alex's eye for another moment. Eventually, he climbs in after me and the second he shuts his door, I open my mouth, but he speaks first.

"That fucker is up to something," Nathan growls.

Of course he noticed. After all, he's the observant one. "I know; what do you think they're going to do?"

He looks at me, and his anger paused for just a moment. His body froze and he really looked at me for a moment before the anger surged into him. I could tell by the shift of Nathan's face when it hardened again and he faced forward as he turned the car on. Over the rumbling of the engine, as Nathan backed out of the school parking lot, he spoke.

"I don't know," Nathan tells me truthfully. "But I'm going to add some boosters to my engine just in case he decided to mess with his car."

"Boosters?" I echo cluelessly.

He nodded with his hard gaze still on the road. "An engine booster spark will increase the horsepower, acceleration, and torque. The boosters I get are the best you can get. It should cover anything Fisher might try."

I absorb the information and ask slowly, "Do you think he added boosters to his engine?"

Nathan shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe he added a supercharger or turbocharger. But I might as well be ready for whatever."

I stare at his profile in semi-shock. I knew Nathan liked cars, but he knew so much about them and racing that it caught me off guard. I couldn't help but stare at his sharped features, utterly impressed. Nathan glanced at me and caught me out, and his hardened mask fell when a smirk twitched to his lips.

"Do you want to take a picture?" Nathan suggests jokingly, a new playful edge in his voice that I was almost relieved to hear after his glaring match with Alex.

I roll my eyes and pretend I wasn't observing his handsomeness a moment ago. "You might break the camera."

He tuts at me as he shakes his head solemnly. "Asher really is making you evil."

"Or I've always been secretly evil," I suggest with a small smile.

Nathan glances between me and the road, a grin overtaking his face at my suggestion. "You do have a reputation for feistiness."

I try to hold back my laughter as I continue our little banter. "See? No need to blame Asher."

Nathan chuckles and I let my mask slip, the smile overcoming my lips. The car stops and I'm surprised to see we're already in the driveway at his house. Had I really got that lost in talking to Nathan that I didn't realize where I was?

"Come on, I'm putting you to sleep," Nathan climbed out of the car and then frowned when I got out too. "That sounded bad."

I forget my daze and laugh lightly. "Yes it did."

Nevertheless, I followed Nathan up the walkway toward his house. The house smelled familiar: kind of like Nathan. Blankets were strewn messily on the couch alongside a disorganized variety of pillows, giving the house a cozy vibe. I stood in the living room looking around for a moment, but it was a moment too long.

 Nathan shut the door and swept my hand up like it was the most natural thing in the world and began dragging me down the hall. My heart fluttered at the gesture, making me smile widely as I let him drag me to his bedroom.

"Do you want clothes?" Nathan asked as we entered his room. As I sit on the edge of his bed, he looks back at me with a wicked smirk. "Or do you want me to tuck you in?"

I rolled my eyes at him but asked, "Can I borrow sweatpants?"

Nathan nodded and turned his back on me to go to his dresser. I climbed to the backboard of his bed and pulled the covers back before getting hit in the face with comfortable material. It slipped into my lap, where a pair of dark green sweatpants now lies. I look back up with narrowed eyes to see Nathan grinning cheekily at me.

"I'll be in the garage," Nathan says with his cheeky grin. "Come find me when you wake up."

Sleep begins to creep into the corners of my minds, making my thoughts hazy. But I still managed to open my eyes and look at Nathan to ask, "Where's Ty?"

He takes a few steps closer to the bed, close enough that I can lay my head back down on the pillow and just follow his movements with my gaze. Nathan's eyes