Tabby

I awoke on the couch the next morning, groggy and rather disoriented. My mind was on the fritz, but I was faintly aware of the fact that it was drizzling slightly outside, the drops of rain making small tapping noises on the skylight in the living room ceiling. I had no recollection of ever walking through the door, and I wondered now if I'd ever gotten around to telling my mother where Corey was going to be for the night. The house was still and silent as I stood, stretching and yawning quietly. I wondered when Steven was going to bring Corey home.

Out of all his friends, Steven had to be the most reliable. He wasn't always a jerk to me - last night was proof, obviously - and he looked out for my older brother like it was his job. I trusted Corey would be half sober by the time he came home, but what I didn't trust was that my mother would be too happy that I wasn't the one to cart his sorry ass through the front door.

My head spun, my vision dimming a bit as I glanced around me. I closed my eyes, images from the night before rushing through my memory like speeding trains. I felt sick, my stomach grumbling loudly and my hands shaking as I steadied myself against the wall. I knew I needed something to eat, the clock on the wall told me I'd slept well into the late morning; it was already twelve.

I staggered into the kitchen, pressing my fingers to my throbbing temples. There was a small sticky note on the refrigerator and I reached for it, recognizing my mother's elegant scrawl at once.

Gone out grocery shopping. I crumpled it up into a ball, tossing it back and forth in front of my face in an attempt to wake myself up. She hadn't mentioned Corey at all, which was weird for my mother. She'd always been so protective of us, wouldn't he have been her first priority this morning? Shrugging, I sighed and tossed the note into the trash, starting to pour myself a bowl of normal, dry corn flakes. The doorbell rang before I had a chance to get the milk out of the fridge.

I glanced out of the window over the sink, biting my lip as I laid eyes on an unfamiliar car. I figured it was Steven, bringing Corey home, and I set the half-empty box of cereal down. Walking to the door, I combed my fingers through my dark hair in an attempt to look half-decent. No use giving the crew one more reason to make fun of me behind my back.

The doorbell rang right as I turned the knob, flinging back the door to reveal none other than Steven...and Lance. My breath caught in my throat as I switched my gaze back and forth between the two. Why was he here? I hated to even make eye contact with him now, remembering everything he'd said about me the night before, but when Steven spoke, I wasn't watching him.

"Corey's in the car. Sorry we're so late," he apologized, his voice carrying a rather exhausted tone. Lance stared down at me, a small smirk forming on his face as he stood still, his hands shoved in his back pockets. I felt sick, worse than before. I knew I looked like hell. To speed things up, I forced myself to look at Steven, swallowing nervously. I could still feel his eyes on me.

"It's okay, we just need to get him inside before my mom comes home," I said, feeling childish and juvenile as Lance snickered. Steven shot him a dark look, half nodding at me as they both started back down the steps toward the black Volvo. I let out a short breath, more of a hiccup than anything.

I didn't like the way Lance looked at me, like I was something to amuse him, something funny to prod at. My palms were warm and damp, the result of gazing at his dark red lips for too long, my throat closing up at the thought of one more sarcastic laugh smirk meant for me. I loathed the fact that he was attractive. There was no way he didn't know it either, it was impossible not to be aware of his deep navy gaze or his blonde - almost white - mess of hair.

It all sickened me. I fought the urge to look his way when they reached the porch again, both supporting my obviously hung over sibling. Corey's dark brown hair covered his eyes, obscuring his view. I prayed he had already finished with the throwing up, but my stomach lurched nonetheless as the thought of cleaning anything that had come from Corey passed through my mind.

Lance let go of his side, leaving Steven to hold him up on his own. "He's heavier than I am."

"He's a stick. Grow a pair, Lance. Shit." Steven motioned for me to hold the door open wider and I did so, making sure to look anywhere but at Lance's face. I could feel his gaze on me, roaming eyes that were none too welcome. I crossed my arms over my chest, remembering someone's raunchy remark about it the night before.

"You want me to leave him on the couch or something? I can take him up to his room," Steven's voice broke the awkward silence and I nodded, pointing the way up the stairs. Corey was awake by then, walking on his own, but still leaning on his friend for support. I figured Steven wasn't so bad if he was willing to take a brat like my brother off of my hands for a night.

Lance cleared his throat as Steven disappeared around the corner. I could hear the creak of the steps as he ascended, and I bit my lip. Was I supposed to ask him if he wanted to come inside or something? I didn't like him, but I didn't see the need to be rude.

"Would you like to -"

"We made you pretty mad yesterday, huh?" Lance was faster than I was, his voice much louder than mine. I gulped back a surprised noise, clenching my jaw and taking back my almost offer to invite him in. I raised my eyes to his face, noticing a small, glinting ring just under his bottom lip. I resisted the urge to march over to him and rip it out.

"Obviously."

He laughed again. "Sorry. We were all drunk - with the exception of Steven. If we did...or said anything to - "

"Whatever." I cut him off, knowing he didn't mean whatever apology he was about to dole out. He shrugged, not making any attempt to start over or tell me to listen. He didn't care either, just as I assumed.

"You're not too friendly, are you?" he inquired, a bemused expression falling upon his features. I snorted, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling. He really was stupid.

"Of course not. I have no reason to be after the way you and your ignorant little group acted last night, do I?"

"Hey, I just apologized."

"Well, I don't accept. Now if you don't mind," I snapped, turning towards the stairs as the sound of Steven's footsteps echoed throughout the house, "I have to go attend to my brother." Steven came into view just then, a confused look on his face as he glanced between the two of us, probably wondering who'd started it.

"Thanks again, Steven," I said, turning my attention to him as Lance muttered something unintelligible. He skipped down the steps, going around the car to the driver's side. Steven coughed.

"Did he...what happened?"

"He's just being a jerk. Don't worry about it," I mumbled, my mouth feeling dry as I watched him nod and start towards the door himself. One quick glance at the car, and I knew Lance was still watching.

"He generally is one." When I didn't say anything, he continued. "I'm sorry about yesterday night. And the kid...I...it wasn't our idea. It was his, real stupid, I -" I cut him off, waving my hand.

"It really doesn't matter anymore, okay? I've got to go get Corey in the shower or something before our mom gets home. Just...thanks again." I watched as Steven bit down on his bottom lip, shaking his head as he walked out the front door and down the steps. With a sigh, I started towards the stairs myself, totally forgetting my previous plans to have breakfast.

I didn't have to look again to know I was still being watched through the glass door.