They all crack up.

Logan goes to an iPod dock that’s sitting in the truck and plays ‘Yeah’ by Usher, when Ludacris says the ‘lady in the street…’ line during his rap, we all yell it. Logan knows the entire rap word for word. We all stand up and dance around like fools, thinking we actually have moves like Usher, trying to pop lock, but looking like were having epileptic fits, even Dylan gets in on it.

The songs fades to an end and were standing in a circle, Heidi raises her beer, “To good friends, and new ones,” she says, winking at me. We all take a sip.

“To finding the perfect girl of your dreams and having your entire future to spend with them,” Dylan says, hugging her waist and kissing her on the cheek. The girls swoon and the guys make gagging noises. And we drink.

“To easy, loose, college chicks,” Logan practically pants. We drink.

“To whoever wrote Fifty Shades of Grey,” Cam eyes the sky like he’s thanking the Lord. We all laugh and drink.

Lucy playfully smacks him on the chest, probably harder than he expected because he actually flinches in legit pain. “To Josh Bennett,” she says, clinking her beer with mine. We’re the only ones that drink, Cam rolls his eyes.

Everyone eyes Jake next to me, “To baseball,” he says quietly. They all moan.

“You’re a pretty shit kid, you know that, Jacob,” Logan says. It’s the first time anyone has called him that. He shrugs and they all take a reluctant gulp of beer. “What about you, Mikayla?” Logan eyes me.

I think for a bit, then smile, “To not letting bad people dictate what ended up being a good time.”

It’s quiet for a while and then, “Holllaaaaa..” Cam yells, bringing out his inner black chick. We laugh and drink.

“Ooooooh,” Logan says in a high voice, neck snapping, fingers clicking in the air, mimicking a girl, but he’s looking directly at Heidi, “We, like, totally need to play my jaayam, like, right fucking now!” he continues and Heidi laughs with him.

He moves to his iPod and searches for a song.

I know what it is from the first note.

‘Baby’ - By Justin Bieber. I shake my head in amusement.

Now the group splits and the boys start boy band serenading us girls. They surround us, Logan has the Ludacris rap down, again. We’re in fits of giggles, tears are streaming down our faces. I can’t wait to tell Emily and my parents about tonight, they’ll love it.

Minus the cheating ex boy/friends.

It turns out they all planned on finishing the night at Lucy’s cabin, everyone but Jake. Apparently he gets up at 5 every morning regardless, to run and work out and do whatever it is he does.

After exchanging numbers with everyone and saying ‘see you soons’ instead of goodbyes, Jake and I get in the limo and head home.

Chapter 7

*Jake*

It’s just the two of us in the limo heading back to her house. We’re both buzzed. Well, I think she’s buzzed, I know I definitely am. Having her sit on my lap the whole night didn’t help. I needed something to calm me down. It was a bad idea to sit her there, but it was either that or Logan's lap, and Logan sure as shit would’ve gotten her wasted and done god knows what with her.

I sit on one bench seat and she sits on the other, it’s the furthest we’ve been from each other since the restaurant.

“Jake, just get the limo to drive you home first. I’ll be okay. It’s like forty minutes to my house, and then you have to drive back around here to yours… it’s stupid.”

My head is tilted back on the seat, my eyes are closed, trying to steady the spinning of everything around me. I open one eye to look at her. She’s laying down, her whole body sprawled across the bench seat. “I’d rather make sure you get home safe.”

She doesn’t say anything, just smiles.

A few minutes of quiet passes, where I think were both replaying the night in our heads. I bet our adaptations are completely different.

The limo driver swears, and slams the breaks abruptly causing Mikayla to fall to the floorboard with a thud.

“Sorry,” the driver waves his hand in the air, “goddamn rabbits!”

I kneel on the floorboard to check on Mikayla, but she’s giggling to herself. She may not hurt now but she sure is shit will be hurting tomorrow.

“Hey… Mikayla. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I lightly shake her. She starts to sit up but she’s struggling, more than likely from the alcohol. She puts her hands around my neck and I start to lift her back onto the chair.

“Call me Kayla,” she says into my chest.

“Uh… okay… your friends, or whatever… they called you Micky, right?”

She looks up at me, Bambi eyes, “Yeah, Jake,” she sighs. “They did, but you-" she shoves a finger into my chest, “you can call me Kayla… all right?”

I nod my head once, stupid goofy grin plastered on my face.

I begin to put her down on the seat but her grip tightens around my neck, “Just hold me, Jake. Please?” She doesn’t need to ask. I get comfortable on the seat and position her sideways on my lap, cradling her. Her arms around my shoulders and her face on the crook of my neck. “Thank you, for tonight I mean, god, if you hadn’t of been there… I don’t know what I would have done. And your friends… they just accepted that I was there and didn’t ask questions… or…” She takes a breath and sniffs and I can feel the wetness from her tears on my neck. “Just, thank you… so much…” and then she kisses my neck. I freeze, but she keeps going. Soft gentle kisses, up my jaw, looking for my mouth. I shouldn’t be letting her do this, she’s a mess, emotionally and physically. I turn to face her to tell her to stop but my mouth accidentally brushes against hers. Her lips are soft on mine as she kisses me once, twice, the third time is a little longer, more intimate. My eyes drift closed. She moves her lips a few times, then opens them and darts her tongue out to taste my lips, so softy, I would have missed it if I wasn’t trying so hard to take this all in, so I can remember it forever.

She pulls away and smiles. “Mmmm,” she coos before resuming her position with her face on my neck.

What. The. Fuck.

And now I’m hard and she’s sitting on me.

Shit.

***

She’s fallen asleep on my lap, me cradling her in my arms. She’s snoring gently and it’s pretty much the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.

The limo driver lowers the glass that separates the two areas, “We’re in the street, but I can’t get any further. Which house number is it?”

“What do you mean you can’t go any further?” I ask as a start to wake her up. “Kayla, what number’s your house?”

She wakes up drowsily and takes a second to get her bearings, looking around the limo.

“Have a look outside,” the driver says. “I don’t know what’s happening but I’m blocked.”

I press the button to lower the window and look outside. There are police cars, fire trucks and ambulances everywhere. There are so many people in the street I can’t see much past the window. Kayla looks out the window too and her eyes bug out of her head.

“What the fuck?” she mutters as she fumbles to open the door and rush outside.

She’s out of the car so fast I don’t have time to comprehend what’s happening. I jump out of the car and follow her. She’s trying to push past all the people looking at the house, her tiny frame doesn’t make it far before she turns around to me. There are tears in her eyes and panic all over her face. “This is my house, Jake. What the fuck is going on?”

Shit.

I grab her hand and start pushing through the people. I’m not nice about it and people start getting pissed. I clear enough space so that we’re at the front of the crowd. The house has been blocked off by police tape, and cops are swarming all over the place.