"Lacey Cascade-Anne Carter. What in god's name were you thinking." My mother yells as I walk into the gleaming clean kitchen that belongs to the Nixon's.

"I'm sorry," I say bowing my head slightly. My shoes suddenly became my favourite thing to look at.

"Seth Tate Nixon. You are kidding me right?" Seth's Mom, Trina, says as Seth walks in behind me. Seth's worried glance meets my own as we give each other a nod. Almost as good luck.

Bea tugs open the fridge and pull out the orange juice, pouring herself a large glass before making her way to where the fathers have sat along with my younger sister Molly. Watching the lecture, ready to jump in at any moment if things get out of hand.

"You should know better. I did not raise, a smartass, disrespectful brat. Did I?" My mom yells her face red, spit practically flying out of her mouth.

Overreacting much.

"No mom," I reply quietly ignoring the slurs of angry words and blame threatening to pour out of my mouth.

No smart-ass comments.

No smart-ass comments.

"Well, then why would you do that. To poor Mr Ford. You wasted students learning time! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is for me to be rung up and told my daughter has been disrespectful and been flouncing around while a poor teacher is beside himself with frustration because he can't control you?" My mom snapped angrily. Ok, that was an exaggeration.

"Well, you know how much I love embarrassing you," I say sarcastically. Before immediately freezing. I said no smartass comments you dumbass.

Oops.

"Are you talking back to me young lady?" My mom asks, her voice full of malice.

"That's how a conversation works mom," I say grabbing my drink bottle and squirting some water into my mouth to stay hydrated.

How many times do I have to say NO SMARTASS COMMENTS you STUPID BRAIN?

I hear chuckles from around the room, including Seth's before his mom throw's him a deathly glare and his face changes before you can say 'grounded'.

"You know what. I can't deal with you right now. You're grounded. Give me your phone." She says holding out her hand expectingly.

"Mom no," I say giving her a pleading glance. This is so extreme. For literally what.

"I'm sorry are you the adult here? Give me your phone." She says sternly waiting for me to hand it over.

I mutter a string of words to my mother, pulling my cellphone out of my bag and handing it to her. Her eyes bulge at my sentence before she narrows her eyes.

Almost as if to say 'watch your mouth'.

"Mom," I say almost pleadingly.

"Watch it." She says warningly holding her hand out, waiting for my phone.

"Geez. After everything, I explained to you." I mutter only for her ears, my voice cracking as I slap my phone into her outstretched hand.

I spin on my heel before I can let everyone see the tears threatening to take over my face and storm out of the house. My legs carry me further and further away from the house. Along the bustling walkway.

I run and run and run. Even though I ran for the whole of practice. I have new energy. One of frustration, emptiness, rage. One that I'm way too familiar with.

I find myself slowing down as I near 'my spot'.

My spot is down the walkway, down a hill and in an abandoned bay, where the ocean crashes onto the golden sand, where the comforting curves of mother earth caress you, wrapping you up in your own bubble. A place where a carpark always lies empty and broken. A place where I lie too often.

I stay out here most nights, Lying on the golden sand until it's warm from my heat against the cold night air. Until the first glimpses of light are seen over the horizon I've become so familiar with. Until I'm forced to turn back to reality, back to my life. It's one of my most relaxing coping mechanisms.

Another one of the healthy ones.

As I rested against the sand I let my, emotion, one that was so rare to me, engulf me.

I was so frustrated at my mother and at everything today. I knew that I was slipping into a wave of emotion. I was grateful and hateful at the same time. I was grateful to finally feel something. But I hated the amount of pain I felt. It was like a stabbing to the gut, heart, stomach, brain, lungs. It was pure emotional pain turned physical.

The soft sand lay below me peacefully, solid and supporting, still warm despite the slowly setting sun.

The pain inside me wanting to make me scream. But I can't. There are people, living their happy lives somewhere on the other side of the hills that hide me and the bay. Walking their dogs as the sunsets. Small giggling children with their parents looking over them fondly. All unaware of the teenager, one bay over.

Things like this trigger me into an episode so easily. I hate it. It's like my depression is so sensitive that one tiny yelling can completely turn me into a downward spiralling mess. Breaking me up into thousands of tiny pieces until I find the motivation to piece myself back together again like fucking Humpty Dumpty.

Depression does that. Breaks you.

I started becoming aware of it when I was 11 but in all honesty, looking back, I can't remember a time without it. My teachers pointed expressed their concern to my parents when I was 13, from than my dad argued to take me to see a psychologist. Where then, I was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety.

No one knows. Not even Bea.

My mom doesn't believe it. Even though the psychologists have told her. My past therapists have had to remind her. She still doesn't believe it. She hides it away like it's her secret to hide. Like a forbidden romance. One that would cause chaos if the world knew about it.

I guess I don't want people to know either. I don't want to be judged or classed as depressed or anxious. I might have depression and anxiety but it doesn't classify who or what I am. But at least I can accept that I have these mental illnesses, unlike my mother.

I stay there for a long time. Before the sun is well set. And chilling shudders riddle my body. Only my shorts and sweatshirt I chucked on after training to keep me warm.

I pull myself up. Against my wishes. The weight of my body begging to be back on the ground. My mind begging to scream, begging to forget, begging to be set free. Ignoring my inside battle I make my way down the walkway back to the Nixon house. Pushing open the door and heading inside.

The quiet greets me.

It is shortly met by the sound of pacing back and forth, coming from the living room. As I walk into the welcoming warmth of the living room I see my dad pacing, Molly sitting next to the fire while Bradley is staring into the fire thoughtfully, a beer clutched in his hands.

"Hey, Dad. Where is everyone?" I ask him. He looks up his face shocked.

"Oh thank god." He says striding forwards and taking me into his arms. His arms were always warm, always welcoming. Something I tended not to get enough of.

"We've been looking everywhere for you." My dad says softly kissing the top of my head.

"Well, I'm here," I say responding reluctantly. I hadn't been gone that long surely?

"You've been gone for six hours." My dad says in an informing manner. As if asking the light curiosity I had acquired over his state of worry.

"You have everyone really worried," Molly remarks, her face contorts with worry.

"Oh," I say a confused look crossing my face. I swear I wasn't gone that long.

"I'll call everyone and let them know you are here." He says pulling out his phone and dialling a number.

"Yeah, she's here. She's fine." He says before dialling the next one and the next one.

While he's calling everyone I crouch in front of the fire and hug my knees to my chest. Staring into the flames. Trying not to focus on the dark thoughts swirling through my mind.

"Mom's mad," Molly warns me giving me a sympathetic look.

"Of course she is," I say rolling my eyes with a sad sigh. Molly and I had grown this understanding of our mother. We warned each other, prepared each other for what was coming. Though most of the time, we could gauge a pretty good guess.

I hear the front door open and I hear her before I see her.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" My mom's annoying voice demands as she walks in.

"I went for a walk," I say with a shrug not removing my gaze from the fire.

"For six hours!" she yells as I hear her footsteps come closer to me.

"I'm surprised you care actually," I say standing up to move past her, towards the kitchen.

"Why wouldn't I care? Of course, I care! I'm your mother." She exclaims grabbing my wrist as I push past her.

"Yeah well, you didn't seem to care when I got out of the psych ward," I mutter for only her ears. A sharp slap meets my face.

My mouth opens in horror.

My mother hit me. She actually hit me.

"You still can't accept it can you," I say anger bubbling inside me. "This is why. This is one of the reasons I get worse. And you're not even trying to help me. When I came to you for help. All I got was backlash. " I mutter to her. Her face goes red with anger.

"Lacey oh my god wake up. You don't have a mental illness. It's a phase." My mom starts with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh my god. You ignorant bitch." I shout in disbelief. "Did it not occur to you that I tried to fucking kill myself! And you couldn't look at me. I needed my mother you asshole." I scream. Tears streaming down my face.

My mom lets out a sob. I stare at her. Hate surging through me.

"You have no right. To be crying right now." I say venomously.

"Kirsty. I think we should take you home. Leave Lacey here with her dad." Trina says leading my mom away. Towards the front door. I give her a grateful look and she nods solemnly to me.

My dad leads me to the bench where I sit down on a barstool and he slides me a hot cocoa. I just stare at it.

"You- What?" Molly asks dumbfounded. I turn to meet Molly's gaze, tears filling her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," I say getting up immediately hugging her.

"And you didn't tell me?" She asks pulling away, her voice hurt.

"Mom didn't want me to," I say tears spilling down my face. "She thought it would poison your mind. She doesn't believe in any of it." I say sadly. It still stung a lot. It's taking me ages to get over. Though it shouldn't.

"Hey, Molls it's alright ok. Your sister got the help she needed at the time. We're trying our best for her." My dad says pulling my sister to him. They pull apart and open their arms and I join.

"Molly I just want you to know. None of this was your fault ok. You helped me, you and your jokes you don't know but you were one of the things helping me hang on for so long. I got a lot of help in the ward and I'm doing better now. I'm alive and that's what counts. And no one can know. Bea and Seth don't know. Jacob and Leroy don't know." I say gently hugging her again when she lets out a sob.

She just nods gently and hugs me tightly. We're almost the same height she's only a couple of inches shorter than me.

"I love you Lollipop," I say squeezing her tight before letting her. She chuckles and wipes her eyes.

"I used to hate that nickname." She says with a chuckle.

"I know," I say climbing back up on the barstool.

Dad slides Molly a hot cocoa and she sips away at it. I let myself zone out, running my fingers around the rim of the mug.

As I run my fingers around the rim of the mug after around the 100th time I hear the door open again, footsteps padding in.

"Are you alright?" "Where were you?" Seth and Bea exclaim at the same time.

"I'm fine," I say turning towards them and shrugging and wrapping my hands around the mug.

"You're fine?!" Seth shouts the anger adamant in his voice. "You go missing for six hours. And you're fine??" He questions grabbing my wrist and spinning me towards him.

"Yeah," I say turning my head to avoid his intense gaze, tears falling down my face.

"Lacey," Bea says pushing Seth aside and hugging me. I sob into her shoulder. And she coo's to me quietly.

"Talk to us," Bea says once I stop crying. I glance at my dad who gives me an encouraging nod and slides them two hot cocoas.

"I just couldn't um deal with my mom. So I went for a walk. Then I lost track of time. Came back, had another argument with my mom and she left with your mom to calm down. And now I'm here." I explain to them after a moment of hesitation.

I hear my dad sigh. Knowing I'm withholding a lot of the truth from them. I put my head into my hands and wipe my eyes vigorously. I sigh and straighten my back. Before settling again.

"I'm sorry," Bea says hugging me gently.

"It's ok," I say hugging her back.

I meet Seth's eyes over her shoulder. His gaze is intense and searching. Like he's trying to figure out something. Bea and I pull apart and I turn back to my dad. He raises his eyebrows at me slightly and I give him a small look saying 'not today. He sighs slightly.

He wants me to tell them. He thinks it's important for them to know.

"Is it alright if she stays here tonight?" My dad asks Bradley, Bea and Seth's dad who had cracked open a beer in the corner.

"Of course," Bradley says giving me a small smile.

"I'm going to go talk to your mother. I love you. Moll's coming?" My dad says hugging me tightly and kissing my forehead before he turns to Molly and Molly nods. She gives me one last hug before taking her to leave.

"Love you." She says blowing a kiss.

"I love you too," I reply with a small smile and catching it before the front door clicks shut behind them, I let myself slump into my seat. "I need a shower," I say my voice croaky, I wipe my eyes and turn back to Seth and Bea.

Bea pulls me up and we go towards her room. She hands me a pair of pyjama shorts and a T-shirt. I borrow her shower, which literally has my stuff in it. That's how often we are together.

I'm in there for a long time. Sitting on the floor letting the steaming water run down my back, neck, head, face. Zoning out, forgetting where I am for a moment. After a knock at the door, reminding me to get off, I turn the water off, taking my time to get changed. I loosely tie my hair up into a very messy bun and make my way back into Bea's room.

"My turn." She says getting off her bed and going into the bathroom. I climb into her bed pulling the duvet up to my chin and sighing.

Why can't my mom accept it? It's like she doesn't even want to help me. My mind drifts back to the pills I have hidden underneath my bed. Every day at the moment I've felt the need for them. The need to be gone from this place. But I can't. I want to so desperately. But Bea, Molly and my dad.

I sigh softly.

It's only a matter of time.

"You ok?" I hear a voice ask. I turn and see a shirtless Seth in sweatpants standing there. He and his glorious well built, annoying, gorgeous self.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I say with a small smile. Trying my best to seem convincing.

"Yeah. That's a good lie. Other's might believe that. But I don't." He says leaning against the door frame folding his arms.

"Yeah well, sometimes it's easier to lie," I say raising my eyebrows and pulling the duvet up to my chin.

"You can talk to me you know. I would never tell anyone else." Seth offers, his eyebrows raising sincerely. I don't know why, but even despite Seth's aggravating nature, I believed his offer. That doesn't mean I'll take him up on it, but I believe it.

"Thanks. It means a lot." I say with a small smile as the bathroom door opens and Bea comes in. Showered and changed. A towel wrapped around her hair.

"Go put a shirt on you loser," Bea says giving Seth a look as she chucks her clothes in the hamper. Seth holds his hands up in surrender and gives me a small nod before disappearing down the hallway.

"Want to watch a movie?" She asks me slipping under her silky covers. I nod and she turns on the TV. She slides through the movies.

For the rest of the night, we flick in between movies, gossiping our way down our Instagram feeds. Laughing about the clueless boys on Snapchat. Doing basic teenage things. Until Bea falls into a comfortable slumber.

I pull myself out of bed. Having missed dinner. I make my way down to the kitchen and jump when I see Seth eating a bowl of cereal. Still shirtless I might add. His back muscles moving as he scrolls through his phone and scoops cocoa pops into his mouth.

At 3:00 am?

"Hey," I say pulling open the cupboard and taking out the cocoa pops.

"Can't sleep?" He asks me. As I pour the cereal into the bowl. And take the milk out of the fridge. Adding the milk.

"Nope. You either?" I ask him. He shakes his head. I pull myself up onto the bench facing him and take a spoon of my cocoa pops.

"I like your shirt," I say sarcastically rolling my eyes.

"We both know you like me better without a shirt," Seth says with a smirk.

"You keep believing that princess," I say with a shake of my head, scooping a large mouthful of cocoa pops into my mouth.

"Where were you this evening? When you went for a walk?" Seth asks me seriously, scooping some Cocoa pops onto his spoon carefully, scraping the bowl to get all of the remaining cocoa pops.

A deep sigh escapes my lips.

"Just a place I like to go," I answer vaguely with a small shrug.

"For six hours?" He asks me.

"Time slips away sometimes," I reply with a sad sigh.

"I know the feeling," Seth says nodding his head.

"I love the middle of the night," I say suddenly looking outside at the reflection of the moonlight off the ocean through the large window showing the moonlit patio. Attempting to steer the conversation away. 

"Me too." Seth agrees. "After you?" He asks raising his eyebrows in question and gesturing to the door leading to the backyard which connects to the beach.

"Cold?" He asks pulling open the Nixon's blanket cupboard.

"A little," I admit. He nods and pulls out three blankets and chucks a few pillows at me to carry.

I follow Seth down the newly painted patio stairs, my cocoa pops carefully balanced on the stack of pillow I hug gently, on to the Nixon's abandoned trampoline. I pull myself up onto the abandoned trampoline, the springs creak with disuse, letting out a scratchy sigh. A tired sigh.

"There's just something so real about the stars and the moon and the night," I say gazing up at the stars fixing the blankets around me, propping myself up on the pillows. Balancing my nearly empty cocoa pops on my stomach.

"People are most vulnerable at night. More open. More themselves." Seth says agreeing. I finish the cereal in my bowl and reach down and put it on the ground before I flop back on the trampoline so I'm completely lying down.

"I wish I could sleep sometimes. But then I'd miss these moments. I'd miss the moon and the stars. Which are more beautiful than the daytime could ever be." I say with a sad sigh.

"That's so true. I feel more alone in a crowded room than I do at night by myself." Seth says with a sad sigh. Closing his eyes gently, like he couldn't believe what he was admitting to me.

"Too true," I say giving him a small smile, sending him all the strength I could muster.