Piper June.

His evening has been pretty awkward. First, Annie called him because she had seen Piper at the party, so he made the hour long trip from Manhattan to Staten Island. But then, Annie called him again, slurring her words as she told him that he had to come see Piper and take her home. When he asked her why, Annie kept saying something about Piper trying to strip. He laughed and told her he'd been there soon, hanging up. Annie was drunk and didn't know what she was talking about. He tells the driver to wait down the street—I'll only be a minute—and makes his way into the building where Annie said the party was. He can feel the vibrations from the loud music in the lobby, and the loft is two floors up.

When he gets there, Annie finds him and keeps talking about how Piper is going completely off the deep end. He shakes his head - she really did have way too much to drink, it seems, and he makes a note to make sure she gets cut off of alcohol and any drugs floating around. He spots Ezra with a girl that definitely isn't Piper, wants to punch him hard and shake him, wonder why he'd throw away what he had with Piper for some girl whose name he probably didn't even know.

And then he hears her screaming about ripping her shirt off and dancing and laughing and everyone is just leering and he has to get her somewhere safe, but it doesn't really go that well because she tries to kill the girl that Ezra was trying to hook up with. (And they kissed, sort of.) Pierre ends up dragging a crying Piper down to his car, where she goes limp and hiccups.

“Piper?” She sniffled, chest rising and falling quickly. "Do you want to go home?"

“I—well I'm supposed to be at a sleepover,” she sighed, hiccupping as she rubbed her raw face. "I don't really care where we go. I just don't want to go home.”

“Okay, okay. My parents are at this gala thing for the night in the Hamptons. Do you wanna stay with me?” She shrugged, resting her head on his shoulder as she sniffled.

And that's how Pierre ended up with a very drunk, sad girl sleeping in his bed and taking up all the covers, her clothes scattered around the room because it was too warm and she didn't feel like wearing anything but her underwear, apparently. So he let her be and instead set up camp in the guest room, trying to fall asleep on the hard full mattress, but failing because Piper was crying and wanted to be alone and he couldn't do anything to fix it, because her not-boyfriend kind of had a vice grip on her heart and he had no way of making Ezra let go. (Or Piper for that matter, either.)



Piper doesn't really remember what happened last night, but she's in a bed that smells familiar but not exactly and her head hurts and she's practically naked and her face is so stiff and she feels ill. And then her phone starts vibrating noisily on the nightstand. It's Olivia. She groans, letting it go to voicemail, before sitting up and going through her notifications. She's got two messages from Jude and Maggie each, both asking about Ezra, which makes her frown a little because last night is a little fuzzy, but she does sort of remember hanging out with Hannabeth.

Hannabeth forwarded a video that someone else must have forwarded to her of them both dancing together and she feels mortified, cheeks flushing as she sinks down in the bed. Whose bed is this? She starts to panic. Why is she practically naked? Did she go home with some random stranger? Did they have sex? Did he use a condom? Where's Ezra? Her eyes burn with unshed tears as she thinks about him – I'm not your boyfriend ringing loudly in her mind as she wipes her eyes with the soft comforter.

There's a soft knock on the door and she looks up, finally taking a moment to really take in her surroundings. This is definitely a boy's room. But who's the boy?

“Piper?” Pierre asks, hesitance in his voice. “You doin' okay?”

“Uh, yeah?” she replied, feeling unsure of herself. She climbed out of bed, picking her shirt and shorts off the floor. “You can come in, if you want.” Pierre pokes his head in, offering her a small smile.

“I brought you some Advil. I thought you could use it after the crazy night you had.” He hands her a small white pill bottle and a bottle of water. She takes it from him, embarrassed as she sits back down on the bed.

“So you saw it too, then?” she asked, nodding her head a little. “Great. That's just... great.” She takes two pills, chasing them down with some water before handing the bottle back to him. “Did I - did - um - did we...?”

“No,” Pierre answered shyly, shrugging a little. "I thought you might really enjoy having some time alone, 'cause of Ezra and stuff and you didn't really seem like you wanted to talk about it last night anyway."

"Sorry. You must think I'm crazy." She pushes some of her hair over her shoulder, scowling a little at the knots.

"It's okay," he says, trying to sound reassuring. "You had a rough night. I don't think any less of you.”

"Can we - I just - can we go do something, please? I just want to forget about last night and pretend it never happened. I mean, I know everyone apparently saw Hannabeth and me try out for a twerk team but I just - I want to not think about it.” After a brief pause, she continued. “I think we broke up, but it's not like he was really my boyfriend, huh?” she laughs mirthlessly, shaking her head.

“He's missing out,” Pierre says, trying to reassure Piper as he rubs her back.



As much as Piper misses Ezra—I’m not your boyfriend, not your boyfriend, not yours—she kind of doesn’t mind being with Pierre like this today. He let her borrow some clothes after her shower, and she finally feels clean and not as sad as she did last night. She feels awkward at first—he’s not her boyfriend and she’s almost really sure he likes her, but she isn’t and so she doesn’t want to say anything on the off chance that he doesn’t. She doesn’t mind the way she sort of fits under his shoulder, or the way his clothes feel on her skin, or the way he offers to take her to lunch somewhere that doesn’t have laminated, dirty menus.

It’s actually kind of nice to be treated like she’s cared about.

Not like Ezra didn’t make her believe, for a small moment, like he cared, but still. This is a nice feeling.

Pierre’s just her friend, she tells herself when he pulls her chair out for her during lunch so she can sit, just her friend. But she notices how handsome he is when he bends his head over the menu, smiles at how clear and honest his green eyes are, at how easy it is to just be with him. She likes herself when she’s with him—likes that she’s just Piper, not June, not PJ, just Piper.

The waitress comes to take their orders—he sounds so damn fancy compared to her simple order of chicken parmesan—and menus. Now that she can’t avoid the conversation, she figures she might as well face it head on. She needs to know exactly what happened last night.

“So… be honest,” Piper says, swirling the ice in her tall glass of soda with a black straw. He glances up at her, setting his glass of water down. “How messed up was I last night?”

“Everyone has bad nights—”

“Just tell me the truth. I need to know what I’m going to be walking into on Monday morning at school. Please?”

He looks uncomfortable—it can’t be good then, she thinks—as he shrugs and sighs.

“Well, someone gave you way too much to drink,” he starts. “And... you were high, I think? Or at least you took a few hits from the bong anyway. You were dancing, but it was kind of sloppy ’cause you were drunk and there were so many guys pawing at you and your friend. I don’t know her, though.” He shrugged. “I only came to the party because I wanted to see you, and when I got there, everyone was talking about how messed up you’d gotten. I only took you home ’cause I—I just—I didn’t like the way some of those guys were looking at you, you know? I just—you’re not just some girl who can’t hold her drinks, Piper. And Ezra wasn’t anywhere to be found and he probably would’ve let one of those guys do something to you and not even care. I just—I didn’t mean to ruin your fun or anything. And I mean, had I known that he was with some other girl, I wouldn’t have gone that way. I mean—not that you don’t deserve to know,” he says, tripping over his words, “just—I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“I’m a big girl,” she says, laughing cheaply. “I can handle myself.”

“I know. I just—I don’t like seeing people trying to take advantage of you.”

“It was just a party.” Piper shakes her hair, pushing her braid over her shoulder. “It’s not like someone was going to sell me for a bag of xannies or something—” She stops short, trying not to scoff but failing. “Why do you even care?”

“’Cause,” Pierre says firmly. “’Cause I just care about you. Ezra won’t because he’s too busy playing beer pong and shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat while all these yuppies from Columbia keep pushing drinks your way. What if someone tried to roofie you?” He sighs. “I just—I mean, I know you care about him or something so it doesn’t even matter but—”

“He doesn’t care about me, obviously,” Piper cuts in. “Last night only cemented that, right?”

“You can do better.”

“Yeah? Like you?” He blushes and she wonders when she became so bold idly, sipping her drink as she looks at him.

“I don’t know,” he answers, biting his lip as he meets her eyes. “Maybe.”

“I like that. Maybe. Maybe I’ll let you pick me up from school tomorrow and take me out. Maybe I’ll kiss you. Maybe.” Pierre smiles and it makes her smile, boyish and cheeky and sweet.

“And maybe I will.”

“Good.” She grins and he smiles.



Hannabeth wipes dried drool from her cheek, glancing at the boy slumped on the bed. He was sad and crying about some stupid girl named Jude—for god’s sake, he even moaned her name when she was dancing on him and he busted in his stupid Superman boxers—all during last night, which kind of sucked, but Hannabeth hopes that he at least forgot about whoever Jude was while they were fooling around last night. It wasn’t that good, but it got the job done.

It was nice, being back in New York. She stumbles into the bathroom and grimaces as the sweat and makeup dried on her face, at her straw’s nest hair, and at the mysterious stains on her shirt. Hannabeth rinses out her mouth and brushes her hair with her fingers, parting her bangs and pulling her long hair up onto her head in a bun. She glances around at the bathroom—whose apartment is this? Seriously?—as she tugs on her shorts, sighing. She has to make it home before Clark gets back from Maggie’s house. (He’ll snitch and tell their parents that she’s been messing around with trash again and they’ll send her even farther away.)

Maggie is a nice girl, lives in a suburb and doesn’t even drive her own car (she shares, which is gross, but okay) but Clark still really likes her, even though he has to sneak in her room and sneak out before her aunt wakes up so he can get ready for school and meet up with her. He even transferred to a public school to be with her, for heaven’s sake. But she’s really nice, so Hannabeth guesses she’s worth all the trouble.

She walks out of the apartment, pulling her coat around her tightly as she shuts the door, stepping over the girl sleeping on the couch. The party went on for a while—the beauty of drugs and liquor and teenage angst—but it was finally reaching its end, since mostly everyone was asleep, hooking up, or throwing up.

Hannabeth calls Piper—it goes to voicemail, much to her chagrin—and asks her if she knows about any good parties. Her high is starting to wear off and she doesn’t like being sober, not as much as she likes dark rooms and boys and pretty white lines and cold cans of beer. As she pushes the heavy door of the lobby open, she finds herself face to face with the girl that’s apparently been causing quite a commotion, according to Maggie, anyway.

“Hannabeth, right?”

“Who the hell wants to know?” Hannabeth answered, digging a cigarette from her clutch. She lights it quickly, walking down the steps in her heavy fur coat. It’s a miracle no one stole it, really.

“I’m Jenny.”

“Okay?” she half asks, rolling her eyes as she takes a drag off her cigarette. “Can you move? I have to catch a cab—”

“Let’s share it.”

“Uh, let’s not,” she says, flicking the cigarette. “What do you want?”

“Piper.” Hannabeth scowled, taking another drag from her cigarette as she narrowed her eyes at Jenny. Hannabeth shoved her with her shoulder, walking down the steps quickly. “Wait!”

Hannabeth stomped down the cold street, hugging her coat closer as the wind started to blow harder. Jenny’s boots clicked against the pavement as she ran after her. Hannabeth rolled her eyes and seethed quietly, extending her arm out to flag down a passing yellow cab. She steps off the sidewalk and toward the cab and sure enough, Jenny is still hot on her heels. Opening the door, Hannabeth looks back at the teen and frowns.

“Look, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me and I don’t know what you want with Piper or anything, but I swear to God, lay a hand on her head and I’ll snap your neck. Jenny, is it? Don’t ask me about her again and keep your filthy hands off her boyfriend if you know what’s good for you, okay?”



“Have a good day, honey,” Olivia said with a smile, squeezing Piper’s hand. “Your dad’s coming home from his business trip today, so try to cut tutoring short if you can, okay? I’m making pot roast.” Piper looks down at her backpack on her lap, nodding as she digs her phone from the side pocket.

“I’ll see you later.”

She hopes she still has enough time to at least meet up with Pierre before her dad made it home, but with her luck, she’d probably only be able to see him for 10 or 15 minutes before having to call it a day. Piper and Pierre spent most of Sunday together. After lunch, they went to the park and ran around and even went shopping for a little while.

(And he kissed her at her front door and she doesn’t know why it’s still making her blush but it does.)

Piper walks into the busy courtyard, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she readjusts the straps of her bag on her shoulders.

She gets some smiles from classmates she knows vaguely, but doesn’t bother to return them as she makes her way towards Maggie and Clark. Maggie smiles as Clark puts his jacket on her shoulders. Quinn is on the phone—she assumes with Jude, by the whiny tone in his voice. Piper returns Maggie’s smile, running a hand through her hair. They talk for a few minutes about what Maggie did after the party pleasantly, but Piper still feels uneasy. Mostly because she hasn’t seen or talked to Ezra since she confronted Jenny at the party.

After she talks to Maggie for a while, she heads inside. Despite her partying ways, she does still want to keep her grades up. Progress reports come out this week, and her dad is just foaming at the mouth for another excuse to hurt her. Piper pushes those thoughts away as she smiles at people who wave at her at the hallway. It’s odd, being recognized and greeted by people who would have ignored her just a few weeks ago.

At her locker, she receives a message from Hannabeth, who wants to know if Piper’s up for going out that night. Apparently, someone Hannabeth knows from school is playing at a dive bar where she promises there’ll be free drinks if they show enough skin. Piper’s tempted, but she can’t. Not tonight, with her dad coming home and the usual bad mood he’s in when he comes home from his business trips. Before she can text Hannabeth her reply, an arm snakes around her waist.

Piper scowls, shooting Ezra a look.

“Hey, you,” he grins—easily, cheerful, happy—eyes bright as he kisses her cheek. She shoves him away angrily, slamming her locker shut.

“Don’t touch me,” she hisses, storming down the hall before he can catch up with her.



“You won’t believe what happened this weekend,” Jude fumes while Piper gathers her books for study hall. “Some stupid upstate yuppie hooked up with Jude this weekend at that stupid party.” Piper frowns a little but says nothing as she stacks her books together. “I mean, like—” She groans in frustration. “Can you believe it?”

“Didn’t you break up like two weeks ago?”

“That’s not the point,” Jude says dismissively. “Just because we broke up, that doesn’t give him the right to go around, dropping his pants in front of every girl that looks at him the wrong way.” Piper shuts the door, phone buzzing in her skirt pocket. “Like, seriously?”

“Doesn’t it though? I thought Quinn was a sleazy stoner—”

“But he was my sleazy stoner, Piper,” Jude cuts in. “You don’t understand because you’ve never had a boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like Ezra’s really your boyfriend—”

Piper’s head snaps towards Jude, eyes wide and angry as she seethes, stopping short in front of Mr. Timbly’s, where study hall is held on Mondays.

“You know what Jude? You don’t know anything about me and Ezra and you, of all people, with your passive aggressive love affair thing with Quinn, are in no position to tell me jack crap about us.”

“Piper—”

“You’re going to be late for psychology,” Piper says dismissively as she walks inside, shutting Jude out.



“So, like—” Quinn keeps talking about this girl who apparently is wicked awesome in bed, and under normal circumstances, Ezra would be more than interested in what his best friend has to see. But see, things aren’t normal. First, the party this weekend—it was totally awesome, and he got a pretty good high (for a relatively low cost compared to what he normally gets) and hooked up with someone. He’s just not sure who it was. And he thinks he fought with Piper, but he doesn’t remember what about. He just knows she was upset. If he can’t remember, it doesn’t matter. And Jenny won’t stop blowing up his phone—he just wants to be left alone—talking about how she wants to go back to how things used to be.

(Jenny thinks their relationship was all that and a bag of chips. Actually, it really sucked. She was cold and distant and drunk and cheated on him all the time. He, stupidly, stayed. Or at least he stayed until she hooked up with the wrong guy and it finally dug under his skin. And now he’s happy, or at least he’s trying to be.)

In any event, back to Piper—she must be pretty pissed, because she’s not talking to him and even pushed him away when he went to say good morning earlier at her locker. She won’t answer any of his texts, and for some damn reason, she was with that stupid prep guy that gives him a weird vibe all over her Instagram yesterday. He’s mildly annoyed, but he figures he won’t say anything about it because he’s just her ‘friend’. Or something. (Piper’s not like Jenny, right?)

He spots Piper’s blonde head of hair down the hall, laughing with Annie—Annie? Since when are they friends?—and holding her books to her chest. Do they have tutoring today? He’ll take her out for ice cream instead. That’ll cheer her up. Yeah, he thinks. Good plan.

Piper’s surrounded by Maggie and her friends, which gives him an uneasy feeling. If Piper gets close to that Hannabeth girl, she’ll only end up getting hurt, and—

“Dude,” Quinn cuts in, waving a hand in front of Ezra’s face. “Seriously, she was a babe. But somehow, Jude knows and now she’s not letting it go and she’s mad but, like, she shouldn’t be mad, right? We’re on a break.”

“She broke up with you, Q. That’s kind of permanent, so you can do whatever you want—”

“But I want to do Judy—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ezra answers distractedly, watching as Piper is lost in the crowd as the hallway floods with people, the bell ringing loudly. He curses under his breath, readjusting his backpack straps as he pushes through the crowd, trying to reach Piper. He steps on toes, pushes through guys, even curses a jock out because she’s leaving and he wants to reach her before she leaves with Jude. Jude won’t let him get anywhere near her. Panicking, he pushes through the doors, and she’s so close.

For a second, he looks up and sees, of all damn cars, a bright red convertible sitting outside that’s got everyone hooting and hollering. There’s a boy standing against the door, arms crossed his chest. His shirt’s a little too tight for Ezra’s comfort, and but those chinos look pretty nice, even if they’re a little too pressed. Without the sunglasses, he’d look a lot like Pierre, but—

No.

Racing down the steps, he almost manages to catch up to her and she’s just this far away, but Jenny intercepts before he can reach her. Annoyed, Ezra spends a good minute cursing at her, scowling.

“What do you want?”

“Is that really anyway to talk to me? After the weekend we had?” she asks flirtily, wrapping herself around him. “Where you talking me tonight?”

“Out,” he says, trying to look over the crowd. “Like with the trash. What the hell do you want? Seriously.”

“You,” she says, kissing his cheek despite his attempts to get away. “Are you still looking for that stupid girl?”

“She’s not stupid.”

“If she let you go, I think she is,” she says, laughing as she smiles. Ezra looks ahead, ready to explain to Jenny that whatever she thought happened that weekend between them didn’t and that she needs to get a life, preferably as far away from him as possible, but then he sees it. Piper’s kissing Pierre and he’s got her scooped up and he’s touching her and she’s with him and Ezra, calm, cool, collected Ezra Finnely, heartbreaker extraordinaire, suddenly can’t breathe properly.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ezra says numbly, standing in front of the gates as Pierre holds her door open and she sits, looking down. For a split second, Ezra and Piper make eye contact. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him while Pierre walks around the car to the driver’s side. When he sits down, she kisses him and Ezra feels like he’s actually going to die.

When did Ezra Finnely come under the power of a scrawny girl who couldn’t even introduce herself to him without stuttering up a storm and turning fifty shades of red?