Don't Give up on Me

"You've won," I whisper as he moved closer, his green eyes burning wildly as they roamed my face, landing on my lips more than once. He leaned in even closer, and I could feel his breath on my lips, my own hitching as he barely brushed his lips against mine, then fully, and I swear I could have melted at that moment. It was the opposite of what I could have ever expected him to do, but I wasn't complaining.

His lips felt incredible against my own. I was shocked at first from the cool metal of his lip piercings, but grew accustomed to them quickly. While his arms held my body firmly in place against him, my own were twined around his neck delicately. Thinking was out of the question; the only thoughts I did have were of him, my overwhelming awareness that I was kissing him, that this was happening, and just how fucking good it felt to kiss him.

He pulls away slowly, dragging out the moment for as long as he could. I didn't blame him; I never wanted it to end, honestly. But, it did, and soon I was resting my head on his chest, his arms still around my waist as we simply stood, covered in paint. "You shouldn't have done that," I murmur into his chest.

"I know," he replies just as quietly, a small smirk on his lips.

"What happens now?"

"I don't know..." he trails off, though he still half smiles. "But I'd like to find out."

I half smile as well, taking my arms from his shoulders and taking a step back. "Look at us!" I exclaim, laughing. "Look at my room!"

"You did this," he blames, whiping the paint out of his hair and smearing it onto his already-covered t-shirt.

I raise an eyebrow. "You're blaming me? You're the one who just had to paint my arm!"

"Because you were being stubborn and trying to show off!"

"That doesn't mean you get to paint my arm!" I yell, though I was grinning the entire time.

He flashes me a grin, too. "Did I ever tell you that you look really hot in purple?"

I look down at my paint covered clothes, where the red and blue had mixed and became a lavender color, which happened to be my favorite. "No, I don't think you did."

He pulls me close again. "You look really hot in purple, babe."

I blush the same color of the wall behind me. "Thanks, Z."

I look around the room again, this time analyzing whether I liked the outcome or not. "You know," I began with a small smile, "I think I actually like this better than the color-block idea I had before."

"This is more you than solid walls," he says. "Completely unpredictable."

"Is that an insult or a compliment?"

"Totally a compliment."

"Oh," was my short reply as I looked around again. "God, what time is it?"

"Six-oh-seven," he replies. I groan.

"My dad gets home in less than 30 minutes and when he sees this, he'll flip the fuck out."

"Your dad flips at the smallest things, I swear," he shakes his head. "I'm sure it'll be fine, Andi."

"Mhmm, I'd believe you, but everytime you say that, shit hits the fan, and its more frequent than you'd think."

"Stop being cynical, Andria."

My eyes widen at the use of my first name, and not my nickname; I think this is the first time he hasn't called me 'Andi' or 'Dawson' in forever. "Well, Zachary, it sort of hard to not be cynical with a history like mine."

"If you're really so freaked out about it, why don't you go get cleaned up while I clean up in here?" he suggests, shocking me further.

I press the back of my hand to his forehead, then against his cheek, where it stayed while I said, "Are you sick? Maybe the paint fumes have gotten to your head or something, because you just said you'd willingly clean something."

He takes my hand from his cheek, but keeps it in his own. "I'm perfectly fine, Andi. It's about time I tried to save your ass for once."

After reassuring me yet again that he was capable of cleaning the room, I dart upstairs and to my bathroom, where I washed the paint away easily, though my hair was a different story; after Googling why it hadn't come out as I dried off, I learned that the red, blue, and purple streaks were going to stay for a few washes, the least of my worries in my opinion.

I rush back downstairs, finding Zacky lounging in the doorway as he and my older brother talked as if he wasn't covered in paint, nor was there a trail all around the room, or the room itself. I peered behind him and saw my desk against the far wall again, and all of the painting stuff from before was in its place rather than strewn across the floor.

"Andi, get back inside, its too cold for you to be out here with wet hair," my brother scolds.

I roll my eyes. "That's just a myth, you know. I'm not gonna get sick; I have the strongest immune system in this family, since I'm the only one that eats healthy in this house."

"Starbucks is NOT healthy," he argues, making me want to smack him.

"Where's Da-"

"Hey guys... whoa, what the hell happened here?" my father interrupts, making me involuntarily frown at his drastic change in tone.

"Welllllllll," I drag the word out, trying to formulate a sentence that wouldn't completely piss him off. The only thing that came to mind was Zacky kissing me and I felt my cheeks flush, the memory replaying over and over instead of what led to that in the first place.

My brother saves me then, since I could tell that Zacky, too, had other things on his mind rather than an explanation. "They got into an argument and one thing led to another. It was pretty funny, actually, you should've been here to see her all red-faced..." he trails off, then winks slyly at me.

"Thank you," I mouth to him, his lie completely convincing.

"You must have really pissed her off," my father says to Zacky, who only grins in response. "Are those handprints?"

My eyes dart to where he looked, and sure enough, handprints the exact size of Zacky's hands were on the wall, where he had previously trapped me and made a move. I got butterflies all over again just thinking about it.

But now was certainly not the time to be thinking about that. "Oh yeah, those are mine," my brother covers again, and thankfully his hands were still gloved, so my father couldn't tell he was lying. I suddenly wondered why my brother was lying for me when he had a strong dislike for Zacky, though he masked it much better than my Dad did. "I had to leave my mark, too," he justifies for our father.

My dad only shakes his head. "I can't trust either of you with anything it seems," he says before walking away, shaking his head and grumbling as he did so.

"His face is red. Which means he's holding his anger in now before he blows up later," Ryan sighs. "I reccomend that you leave before he does."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Zacky says, obviously remembering the night at the police station. "I'll see you later, Andi."

"Bye," I tell him softly before he walks out of the garage and towards his own home. I didn't want him to leave, as clingy as that sounded, I truly didn't. So much happened within a matter of minutes and him leaving just as quickly as this all happened sucked.

I didn't even have time to dwell on anything when Ryan gave me his 'I-Know-What-You-Did-And-I'm-Fucking-Pissed-About-It' look, making me cringe. "What?" I asked tentatively, not wanting to hear his answer at all.

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted him around you," he shook his head. "You do know that he's hanging out with you to get into your pants, right?"

I scoff. "Come on, Ryan, do you think I'm fucking stupid? I know you feel a natural inclination to hate him because of what's happened, but you seriously need to let it go. If that was his only motive, he wouldn't of let me drag his ass out of bed and make him paint a room with me."

He rolls his eyes. "You're so naive sometimes, I swear. You just don't get it. Us guys will do just about anything to get a good fuck, and that's what he's doing now. I know he kissed you, Andi-"

"How? Are you spying on my life, Ryan?!"

"You two weren't exactly quiet about anything, how could I not?" he snaps, his eyes darkening. "Listen, Andi, I'm doing this for your own good, okay? Stay away from him, he's no good for you."

"He's not good for me? Who are you to dictate that? Stay the fuck out of my lovelife, Ryan, it has nothing to do with you, anyways," I snarl angrily. "Ugh, how dare you! You don't know him like I do, you don't talk to him like I do, you don't know anything, Ryan!"

"Andi, seriously, grow the fuck up and see the bigger picture! I see the way he looks at you, and it isn't that cute 'Baby, I love you' look, he looks at you like he wants to fuck you and that's it! But you're still too dumb and still too young to really see things for what they are, and that's why he's still around. That's why he woke up and followed you here, and that's why he kissed you, and that's why he's gonna kiss you again, maybe next time it'll go farther than that pussy shit he probably pulled today, and you're gonna be convinced that he's the one, that maybe he's the guy you've been waiting your whole life for, and then you'll fucking spread your legs for him and then he'll break your heart when he bails, because that's all he wants is a few good fucks from you before he moves onto the next one. Because he's a sex-crazed teenage guy, and at that age, that's all you think about. I'm just trying to save you the heartbreak, Andi, because I used to be that guy. But you don't wanna fucking listen, so I guess I'm just wasting my goddamn time."

Tears prick my eyes in disbelief to what he had just said to me. "Oh yeah, Ryan, I'm sorry that this guy has held me countless times as I cried my eyes out, has carried me to the nurse's office when I pass out, has taken the blame for something he didn't do and got ticketed for it, and he's even listened to what I had to say, which is saying a lot, considering he's a 'sex crazed teenage boy'; which, by the way, I'm not arguing with you about that, because that will go nowhere fast; you see these, Ry?" I hold up my scarred wrist, to which he automatically frowns at, his usual reaction. "You know what he did when he saw these? When I finally told him I tried to kill myself? He said I was brave. He said I was strong. He didn't cringe, or frown, or any of the shit you and the rest of out goddamn family did. He held my hand and accepted me for who I am, which should say a lot, considering he's 'just trying to fuck me''. You're never going to understand the kind of relationship he and I have, and frankly, I don't want you to. This is my life, Ryan, and if pursuing something further than what he and I are now is a mistake, then let me make it. I want to make that mistake, because it'll be worth it. So just fuck off and worry about yourself, yeah?"

"Don't you dare come crying to me when he breaks up with you, Andi! I'm so sorry I was just trying to look out for my little sister! God forbid I try to keep you out of another psych ward for another episode!" he yells angrily.

"Episode? You're so fucking ignorant, Ryan, I'm done talking to you," I say angrily, stalking into the house without a second glance.

"Oh, I'm sorry, forgive me, sister dear, I misspoke," he sneers, following after me. "You know what I meant. If you keep chasing Zacky, he's just gonna send you back to room 213 and you know it. Admit it to yourself, can you really trust him after what he did to you with Serena?"

"You know what, I can. Because he admitted that lying to me was wrong, and he's been completely honest with me since. I suggest you stop finding reasons to turn me against him, because its not going to work," I snap as I walk into the kitchen, grabbing a water before continuing towards the staircase.

"You're a fucking idiot, Andria," he shakes his head as he follows me up to my bedroom.

"Since when did you turn into Dad?" I ask, stopping. "You're not my parent, you're my brother. And its not like you're the best person to get advice from, either. Just stop, Ryan."

"Stop what, Andi? Telling you the truth, because you don't want to hear it?"

"Fuck it, you're not like Dad. You're just like Mom, because you can't let shit fucking go!" I scream at him in anger. "She never stopped reminding me that I wasn't good enough, and now here you are, her clone, telling me shit that's irrelevant and trying to make me feel like shit!"

"You wanna play this game? Fine. You've lost me too, are you happy now?" he snarls, walking past me and slamming the door to his bedroom.

"What's the problem?" my dad yells from downstairs, running up quickly.

"He's being an asshole," I shake my head, opening my bedroom door. "I'm going to bed, Dad, goodnight."

I spent the rest of that night and Sunday in my bedroom, avoiding my older brother at all costs. While I understood his necessity to protect me, he didn't have to stoop so low and be a complete and utter ass about it all. He didn't know anything. He didn't see how nervous Zacky had looked right before he kissed me, because he was afraid I might have rejected him. He didn't see how much Zacky had made me smile when I felt like breaking. He didn't know the shit that's gone down between us. He didn't know the feeling I had gotten when he kissed me, the feeling I've never felt for anyone before. He didn't know anything, and he never would.

So what if I'm being foolish for falling for Zacky? It shouldn't be such a huge deal to my brother, anyways. Plenty of guys have broken my heart before, and he's never done anything like this with previous guys that I've liked. I didn't know what the hell had gotten into him; after all, he had covered for me not even minutes before our argument.

Monday morning came around, to my displeasure, and I did my regular routine of getting ready for school before I went down to eat breakfast, where a tense staredown between my brother and I commenced as we ate our food. My father looked extremely confused, especially when he referred to me as "the sister he's unfortunately related to" before leaving for his first day at his new University.

Annoyed, I left shortly after he did, speeding yet again to the large building I'd grown to hate over these past few months; it was such a bad habit of mine when I was angry, but I couldn't help it. It was one of the only things I'd taken from my Texan roots and kept alive to this day. I parked my car and walked to the courtyard, where everyone was waiting, though I was incredibly distant. The conversation around me mainly revolved around the same party that Zacky had been hungover from, and other things like that. It wasn't very stimulating for me, so I just kept to myself, my knees pulled against my chest as I sat introverted around my friends for the first time in a long time.

"Tired?" Matt asks as the conversation died down slightly. I nod, not willing to explain the real reason why. "I thought so, 'cause you're not nearly as talkative as usual."

I shrug, half smiling. "A lack of energy tends to do that to a person," I say. And motivation, I think to myself, but shrug that off, too.

"About to commit a robbery?" somebody asks from behind me, pulling the black hood that was over my head down. "Sorry, bad joke. Maybe I should've just said hello."

I smile, unable to control myself whenever I looked at him. The same nervous butterflies I'd had when he kissed me were back, causing a knot in my throat, making talking impossible. "You alright?"

I shrugged, resting my cheek on my knee while I still faced him. He saw through me, though, and frowned. "Wanna ditch first period? You don't look up for it."

"And go where? My dad's off today, he could be anywhere at any given time."

"Don't worry about that part. You in or not?" he asks.

"Sure, why not?"

After a quick goodbye to our friends, we walk out to the parking lot to his car and climb inside, cranking the heater on full blast as we drove out of the nearly full lot. "Destination?" he asks, and I only shrug. "Well, you're extremely enthusiastic."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not in the mood, Zacky. You pick the place."

He turns down the music and looks at me while at a stoplight. "What's your deal, Andi?"

"My brother," I groan before giving him the highlights of our stupid fight.

"He really thinks that?" he asks, obviously pissed off about my brother's assumptions. "Why hasn't he come over and talked to me face-to-face about it?"

"He was only acting that way because he knows you kissed me," I say, my voice lowering as I spoke the sentence. "He's exactly like my father; he hates you just as much as my Dad does, maybe even more, now."

He rolls his eyes. "That's such bullshit! Have I ever told you how much of a dick your brother seems to be towards you? Or everyone, for that matter?"

"Multiple times."

"Someone should kick his ass..."

"Zacky!"

"What? Its a true statement. He needs to realize that he's not as big and bad that he thinks he is. I'm not afraid of him; I'm taller than the dude, there isn't shit to be afraid of," he says defensively, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Maybe he has a Napoleon complex..."

"Zacky, please, you talking to him is only going to make it worse. He refuses to talk to me for being around you, so be it. At least you didn't call the reason I was in self-harm rehab an 'episode'," I say, muttering the last sentence under my breath.

"He's a fucking asshole."

"I know, Z, I know."

"I'm going to kick his ass."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"If you do, I will never talk to you again."

I hadn't meant to drop that kind of an ultimatum, but if that's what it took to keep Zacky calm while we drove through the streets of Huntington Beach, then it would be used. He groans loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb and closes his eyes while waiting at another stoplight. "God damn it," he murmurs in defeat, sighing. A few moments later, the dark blue waves of the ocean come into view, and he parks in the small concrete lot nearby.

"So, you defended me, right?" he asks quietly after we walk a few feet on the sand. "I mean, he's not talking to you, because you had sided with me?"

I smile at his nervous question. "Yeah, I did. Do you wanna know why?"

"Um, yeah, because I don't know why you had even kissed me back that day, or even continue to put up with my bullshit," he rambles slightly, making me smile.

"Well," I sigh, then weave my fingers with his tightly. "Its because this--" I nod at our connected hands "-- feels scary; it feels good; it feels right. And that's why I defended you. Because I've never felt like this with anyone else," I admit softly, a small smile on my face. "And I don't want to just let this go just because my family doesn't like you."

He grins. "You're an idiot, Andi."

"I know," I grin back up at him. We mutually come to a stop, and with our hands still held firmly by the others, he leans down and kisses me again, his kiss dizzying and intoxicating and completely addicting. I hadn't felt this elated in nearly four years, and that was saying a lot. I could never explain the rush I'd gotten from him, nor would I ever want to. I just wanted him, and that was all I needed. I didn't need an unsupportive brother, I didn't need a hostile, bitter father. As long as I had Zacky in my life somehow, I knew I would be okay. The thought alone was soothing enough to melt my stress away, but his touch, and his kiss, reinforced it.