Nova.

Delilah and Drake just walked past like they hadn’t seen Nova and Rhett and to be honest, they probably didn’t, trapped in their own little world. Nova hasn’t said a word since then, but she’s been biting at her lip and staring at the window shield angrily.

“Are you okay?”

She doesn’t answer, so he leans back against the stiff leather seat and keeps driving, the comfortable silence turning heavy and uncomfortable. He tries asking her if she wants to talk about it when he parks in front of his house, shutting the car off with a flick of his wrist. She just ignores him, shutting her door. He watches her walk up the stairs, shivering because she left her coat in the car. He grabs it and shuts his door, locking the car as he follows her. When he opens the door, she’s already hanging up her coat in the closet. Marisol looks at Rhett curiously, but then walks into the living room. If Nova noticed her at all, she doesn’t say anything, and instead walks upstairs, little feet stomping as Rhett toes his shoes off quietly.

“Nova?”

She doesn’t even turn around. At a loss, Rhett hangs his coat with Nova’s in the coat closet. He debates going upstairs and following Nova for a second, but instead turns towards the kitchen. Marisol drums her fingers against the counter, looking at him expectantly.

“Is that the girl you’ve been hiding from your parents?”

Her tone isn’t accusatory, simply curious. He shrugs, nodding as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I’m trying to figure out the best way to introduce them to her without them freaking out. I like her a lot.” He reaches into the fridge and pulls out a box of blueberries and some water bottles. (He only started buying them because she really likes them and now he can’t stop eating them too.) “Like, a lot.”

“Then why are you afraid?” He looks back at her and frowns.

“You know how they are.”

“And? Are they dating her too?”

“I just want them to like her.”

“If you like her, I don’t see why they shouldn’t.”

He nods, walking towards the doorway. He stops, shoulders slumping.

“Are you going to tell them she was here?”

“Should I?” After a pause, she continues. “Since she’s your girlfriend, you should, if you feel the need to. Now go to bed. It’s getting late.”

He walks back up the stairs, almost afraid. Not so much of Nova, but of what’s wrong. Things have been, relatively speaking, picture perfect—except for her family and his and having to sneak around and all that—and it unsettles Rhett to think that something might actually be wrong. What if he can’t fix it? He hates seeing her sad, especially when he can’t do anything about it. He knocks on the door—it’s his room, for crying out loud—pressing his ear against it.

Is she crying?

“Why are you knocking?” she calls out. He opens the door, poking his head in the door. She’s changed into a big white shirt and knee highs, watching TV in the dark with a big pillow held against her chest. She’s sniffling. “It’s your house, stupid.”

He laughs, or tries to, but it comes out strangled and muted as he sets down the blueberries and water. He undresses down to his boxers, watching her as she shakes and sinks half her face into the pillow. He grabs the box and bottles and crawls on to the bed awkwardly. She glances at him, and yeah, she’s definitely been crying and the knowledge stabs and twists at him as he settles into bed.

“Are you okay?”

“Why can't we be like them?” Rhett glances at the TV—and of all things, a rerun of Jersey Shore plays, volume lowered.

“You want us to be like Snooki and her boyfriend?” She smiles—a little, but she’s still sad—and laughs a little, shaking her head.

“Delilah and Drake.”

Rhett frowns, watching as she opens the small carton and helps herself to a small handful of berries. She chews slowly, changing the channel to something that looks like a movie.

“What?”

“Why do we have to hide? Why do they get to walk around and act like it’s okay and no one says anything? I wanna—I just—” She starts crying again, and that’s when he winds an arm around her heaving shoulders and ends up pulling her on his lap. She keeps crying, quiet and gasping. He thumbs the curls of her hair and rubs her back and waits for her to be able to collect herself—he’s learned with his sister that it’s best to just let her cry it out instead of telling her not to, because that might just make it worse instead of better. She wipes at her face with the shirt—it’s his, he notes absentmindedly—and looks up at him, biting her lip. “I want to be able to hold your hand at school and kiss you at my locker and hold your hand on the subway without anyone looking at us like we’re doing something wrong. Are we wrong, Rhett?”

“What? No,” he answers, holding her closely. Her breath is warm against his neck and it makes him smile. “Why would we be wrong? People are wrong.”

“It’s not fair,” she says quietly, hiccupping every few seconds. “It’s—it’s just not. Dante probably knows about her and he probably didn’t say anything to Drake, so why is it an issue when I love you? Why is that such a big—” She stops short, surprised as she looks away. “Oh.”

“I love you too.” She pushes some of her hair behind her ear, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t—”

“But I do,” he insists, kissing her temple. “I love you.”

“So why do we have to hide?” Her tone is simple and sad and it makes him wonder. Of course, they both know why—people are awful and cruel and callous and he’d rather not subject her to their criticisms if he can help it. But still, they don’t really have to hide. Not to the extent they do, in any event. “Do I embarrass you?”

“Of course not,” he insists. “You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

“Really?”

“Would I lie?” She shakes her head and kisses him chastely, smiling a little. “I don’t want to hide you from anyone because you’re important to me and I care about you. But people are—”

“Why does any of that matter?”

“It doesn’t.”

“So…?” She looks at him expectantly, lacing their fingers together. “I don’t like hiding how I feel about you."



"Where have you been?" Stephen asks, walking into his living room. Rhett swallows nervously. Nova's upstairs - they were going to go out for a walk until his friends came over, and he wants to go upstairs (wants to protect her and hide her and keep her safe from their looks and unnessary comments) but he can't, but he also can't let his friends go upstairs.

(He wonders briefly if this is what Nova's talking about. It's not like he's ashamed or anything, but he's just... what?)

"Uh, busy," Rhett lies easily, biting his lip as he watches the stairs carefully. He's about to text Nova to let her know to not come downstairs, but almost feels like he shouldn't. He doesn't want her to think he's hiding her away, but Rhett's just not thrilled at the prospect of his best friend finding out about her because he just knows how Stephen's going to react, and it's not going to be good.

None of this is good. Not at all.

"Busy? Dude, it's spring break. How busy can you be?" Stephen slings an arm around his shoudler, cackling as they walk into the kitchen. "I haven't heard a peep from you all weekend."

"Well, yeah. It's been busy here, I don't know," he mumbles, glancing at the doorway anxiously. Please stay upstairs. Please.

"You're not busy tonight though, are you?"

"Well, no, but - "

"Cool. So you can come to my party tonight, right?"

"Uh... no?" Rhett almost squeaks, slipping out of his friend's grasp as he makes his way to the fridge. He's happy Marisol isn't here, looking at him questioningly as he lies to his friend. He can't lie in front of her, for some reason. "I've, uh, got stuff to do, you know? I have to finish Peterson's paper, and I've got some studying to do - "

"We've got two weeks off, and you're worrying about homework now? Vacation's just started. C'mon."

"I really can't," Rhett protests, shutting the door. He tosses a water bottle at his friend as he leans against the cool steel fridge, looking down. "I've kind of, uh, got stuff - "

"Is it a girl?" Stephen asks, cracking his bottle open as he stares Rhett down. "Don't lie to me, now."

"Uh, yeah. Yeah," he agrees, biting his lip. "I guess. Sort of." Rhett hears soft, tiny footsteps on the stairs and tries to stop the blood from draining out of his face. They stop short as Stephen scoffs, laughing as he throws his head back. Nova's there. She's there. How can he explain her being there?

A project? Maybe? But still. That's too weak.

"Delilah?"

"Uh... um... yeah. I'm still seeing Delilah."

Why can't he just tell Stephen the truth? He knows why but still. He wants to, badly. He bites his lip. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

"Dude, just bring her along," Stephen says, smiling as he gulps some water down. "The more the merrier. I bet she can get us some good booze too."

"She doesn't, uh, drink." At least he's pretty sure Delilah doesn't drink, and she's busy with Drake anyway, probably. He can't do this to Nova. He just can't. But he also can't not go to this party. People are starting to get suspicious. "I don't know if she'll wanna come either, I mean - "

"Just ask her. Isn't she here? I bet that's what's been keeping you busy." Stephen slides off of his stool, walking around the island counter as he makes his way out of the kitchen. Rhett practically jumps in front of the doorway, blocking it.

"She's not here," he says awkwardly. "She, uh, had to go out to do something."

"Right, right. I'm not going to embarass you, man. Just wanna say hi."

"She's really not here - "

Nova really isn't, it seems, because while he tries to keep Stephen from wandering into the living room to see her, the front door slams shut loudly. (He's got quite a bit of explaning to do.)



Nova comes back about an hour later, that small angry line on her face that Rhett is unfortunately all too familiar with. She doesn't say anything to him as she walks into the kitchen and helps herself to some water, sitting down at the counter where Stephen had sat not too long ago. She simply stares at him, gnawing on the inside of her cheek.

"You should go to your party," she finally says, opening the bottle slowly.

"I don't have to - "

"But you should. Those are your friends, aren't they?" Rhett wants to protest but she continues, and he likes hearing her talk too much to have the heart to say anything. "Don't, like, become a homebody or something for my sake. You need your friends."

"I need you too."

"Don't you mean Delilah?" He tilts his head as she shrugs, taking a few sips. "I mean, she is your girlfriend."

"Nova, don't."

"Hm? She is. At least at school anyway, and you've got to keep that going, 'cause she's pretty much convinced everyone that - "

"Come with me," he blurts out, nervous. She stops short, knitting her eyebrows together as she frowns. "Just come."

"That's not funny," she says, standing as she finishes the rest of the bottle. She throws the empty plastic into the small blue bin next to the back door, pulling her hair up from her neck into a ponytail. She starts walking towards him, stopping short a foot or so away from him. "That's really not funny. Just call Delilah up - "

"No, I'm being serious. Come with me to Stephen's party tonight."

She stares at him for a few seconds, weighing the pros and cons. Her hands fall as he smiles, cupping her cool cheek.

"It's a party and there's going to be so many people there that I really doubt anyone's even going to notice us, if that's what you're afraid of." She nods and he kisses her - she tastes like bubblegum and mint and love.



Stephen's got money. A lot of money. So much money that renting out one of those all ages club for the night really isn't that big a deal to him, not really. His parents died in a fire when he was a kid, and his lawyer really sees no problem with him dipping into his trust fund a few years early, which means that Stephen blows too much money on things he doesn't need or really use often.

(It's for Rosie's birthday, and they're throwing the bash at one of her favorite clubs, some overpriced fancy place in Tribeca that smells like plastic and perfume and has enough flashing lights to make anyone dizzy. He hopes that the place is packed so that he and Nova can still have a relatively good time without anyone freaking out too much. Hopefully.)

He doesn't really want to go to the party, but he's also tired of hiding Nova - it's getting too hard to hide it and if he wants to kiss his girlfriend at lunch, then he's going to, social conventions be damned. He wants her to be happy, and she does seem pretty happy. She smiles at him, leaning over to kiss him as he turns the car off.

It's going to be okay, right?

Right?



So, some people have been staring at Nova, but not too many, which is good. Some kids have said things or tried to, but he shuts them down with a scowl and, if need be, a gentle shove. He's not letting some ignorant kids ruin this. He's just not. But then again, Nova's really been keeping her distance - is she really that concerned? He knows that Rosie isn't really her biggest fan, but Nova doesn't like her either, so it balances itself out. And in any event, Rosie's too busy throwing herself at Stephen and drinking from the bottles of liquor that some kids managed to sneak in.

Rhett and Nova are sitting at a booth in a dark corner. She seems to really be enjoying just watching everyone and being with him in a public setting, but she wants to dance and eat cake and just have fun. He can see it. He squeezes her thigh and tells her he's going to get them more drinks and then introduce her to some of his friends. She nods and tells him that she's going to go freshen up in the bathroom.

She's so damn pretty though. Jesus. Rhett watches her walk away for a few minutes, as she keeps close to the wall and how the lights bounce and play with her as she walks towards the washrooms. He feels lucky. After she disappears around the corner, he walks to the bar and pays for another two tumblers of soda and ice for Nova and himself. He would drink, but he's driving and he wants to keep his wits about him since he doesn't know what people are going to do or say about Nova.

"Dude, you came!" Stephen exclaims as Rhett turns around with his drinks in hand. He smiles, looking past him and at their booth, which is empty. He's been at the counter for about fifteen minutes, and while there's a line for the bathroom, he doesn't think it's that long. They talk for a few minutes before Stephen asks the inevitable question: "Where's Delilah?" Rhett scans the dancefloor, and there she is, pretty little head bobbing in and out of the packed floor. He smiles.

"Uh... I don't know? I didn't come with her."

Stephen raises his eyebrows but shrugs, leaning against the counter of the bar.

"So who'd you come with?"

"My, uh - she's my - I came with my girlfriend."

Stephen frowns.

"But I thought Delilah was your girlfriend?"

"Nope. I actually got these drinks for us, so I'll catch up with you later to introduce you guys, okay?"

"Uh... yeah, okay. Oh, by the way, that weird girl showed up? What's it... uh, Nova, I think?" He shrugs and laughs as Rhett bites his lip. Where is she? She was just there a few minutes ago. Rhett doesn't want to panic, but he starts to. He can only imagine what's going to happen to her and it scares him. "She's trying to crash the party, we think, but it's okay. I'm taking care of it."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it. Just get your drinks to whoever your girl is and come find me and Rosie later, okay?" Rhett nods numbly as he forgets his drinks at the counter. "Rhett!" He ignores Stephen as he pushes his way though the dancefloor.

What did Stephen mean by taking care of it? His version of taking care of it could only mean that someone was going to hurt Nova or something and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he thoughtlessly stumbles around the dark, flashing floor. Where is she? Rosie waves at him, but is quickly hidden by her crowd of friends, leaving him forgotten for the moment. Good.

Wait. He turns back to look at Rosie, and sure enough, a few feet away, there she is. She was dancing, but then some stupid idiot that Rhett thinks may be on the football team or something gropes her. She tries shrugging him off, but it doesn't exactly work. Rhett keeps getting held back by people he doesn't really know but that somehow know him and it makes him feel even more panicked because he just wants to make that creep stop.

In retrospect, it really only takes Rhett about a minute and a half to reach them, but it feels like thirty at the moment, but he finally gets to them and feels like he can breathe again. And then he gets mad. Really, really pissed the hell off because Nova's his girl (his baby, his sweetheart, his) and some guy just really doesn't get the clue to go away.

"Got a problem?" he asks, shoving him off. The guy looks at him, confused. It looks like it might be Jason, but it might be Jake, or whoever. Does it matter?

"Can I help you?"

"Actually yeah," he says, laughing mirthlessly. "Do me a favor and get your hands off her, yeah?"

"Oh? Or what?" Jake or whoever lets Nova go, thankfully, and turns to Rhett, shoving him a little. "What're you gonna do?"

"Knock your damn teeth down your throat," Rhett hisses, shoving him back. Nova protests but he ignores her because he's honestly sick of the comments and looks and there's no reason why they should - she's perfect and wonderful and sweet and gentle and she's just a person, like everyone else.

"Rhett, c'mon," Nova coaxes, tugging him along. "He's not worth it." Rhett scowls, following her along.

"Are you okay?" he asks once they've finally managed to seperate themselves a little from the scene. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm okay," she says, nodding. "Are you?" He nods and presses his forehead to hers, sighing. "You were really going to fight someone for me?" He hums and she smiles, but he's still plotting on doing something (just to make sure the kid learns his lesson) later on, after the party, at some point in the near future. "We can go home, if you want."

"But we didn't even dance."

"I thought you didn't like to dance."

"But you do," he says, starting to sway to the slow tempo of the song that's way too loud. "Did I scare you?" She leans against him, wrapping herself around him as she presses the side of her face against his shoulder.

"You couldn't scare a five year old," she laughs, looking at him as she scrunches her nose. "You could never scare me." He squeezes her as she leans up, about to kiss him.

"What the hell?" Rosie asks. They look at her and really, they should have expected her to seek them out (or at least Rhett, anyway) after that small scene with that guy, but it still takes him a little by surprise. "Get the hell off him," she hisses, tugging Nova away. "He has a girlfriend, you - "

"She is my girlfriend," Rhett insists, stepping between Nova and Rosie. "Nova, this is Roslyn. Roslyn, Nova." Roslyn looks at him, almost laughing as she rolls her eyes.

"Right. Okay. Funny. I'm dying of laughter, Rhett. What a joke. Seriously, though, Delilah's going to flip if she finds out - "

"No, she's not, because she's not my girlfriend. Nova is." Roslyn squints, confused as she looks at Nova, then at Rhett.

"But she's... she's... well, you know - "

"What? Don't go there, Rose. Seriously. She's a girl I really like, that's who she is. That's all there really is to it." He shrugs, taking her hand as he waves a little with his free hand." And we're leaving. Happy birthday, though."

"Rhett! Rhett, wait!" He walks with Nova past their booth so she can grab her purse and jacket, and then they make their way out, ignoring the looks and comments. He's sure his actions will have their repercussions - they must, after all - but he doesn't really care about them, not when Nova is beaming at him like that, not when she kisses him that way against his car, looking at him like he hung the damn moon and like he's her hero or something.

Not a lot matters to Rhett Evans when little Nova Harvey's around.