The throb of my head was the first thing I felt, then the churning in my stomach and finally a dull ache blossoming on my forehead. I wished I could say this was the worst I'd ever felt but in reality it wasn't even close.

I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to go back to sleep in a hope that being unconscious would prevent the ever growing pain in my head. It didn't. I was fully awake now and there would be no going back to my emotionless, unconscious state.

As I pried open a bleary eye I was surprised to find that I was in my own room, in my own bed wearing an oversized t-shirt with absolutely no idea how I got there. My more pressing worry though was who had changed me? The whole situation just made my headache even worse and I felt the room start to tilt and my stomach flip.

I barely made it to the toilet in time before I emptied the remaining contents of my stomach. I was rudely reminded of how my self loathing actions held consequences, a fact I determinedly forgot about after my tenth shot. As I swilled my mouth out with water from the sink and filled my empty stomach with its soothing coolness I tried to remember any part of last night. To my horror I found that the last thing I could clearly remember was walking into the party and after that only odd pieces. Jenny clutching Nico, shots with Jenson and Grey's furious expression, I couldn't remember what for though.

I felt like absolute shit. So I did what I always did when I had to get a hangover out of my system, I went for a run. Mom had taught me to do it. She had a special gift that allowed her to completely bounce back from a night of heavy drinking and turn up the next day looking like she'd spent that night at a spa. I hadn't been blessed with that trait. Instead mom had taught me to go for a run. It was the hardest thing to do but the most effective, I'd found. You felt so terrible while running that the second you stopped the pain lessened, it was a way of making the normal pain seem less because you'd just forced something much worse. Running also woke me up and made me focus on something other than the throbbing in the back of my skull.

I'd done a lot of running since moms death. Hours upon hours of running until it felt like my lungs would explode and legs would snap.

I changed out from the t-shirt I didn't recognise, it looked like a men's one, into yoga pants and a sports bra. I checked the time on my clock, 7am, I prayed that meant no one else would be awake and I could run in peace. Luckily my wish was granted and I managed to make my way out of the building without meeting anyone, the corridors were filled with nothing but empty silence.

Outside the grounds were wet with dew and slightly crisp with cold, a light breeze whipped at the grass and my hair. I liked the cold air though, it woke me up. I started to run to keep myself warm, I followed the brick wall that outlined the perimeter of the school. I guessed it to be a couple of miles long, the perfect distance to run off my hangover.

I'd always loved running, I liked the feeling that I was making progress, I was going somewhere. I could get away from everything even if it was just temporary, I was still free for a while. The sprawling lawns and clear blue sky here made running even more peaceful unlike the smoky, bustling streets of Vegas. A complete calm settled over me.

"Cara," a pair of footsteps rushed to catch up with me from behind and a voice I recognised called my name. I spun on my heel to face them.

"Sawyer," I relaxed as I saw his charming face come into view, "what are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you that," Sawyer slowed from his sprint, he wasn't even panting, "I run here every morning and I've never seen you before."

"You do?" My eyebrows shot up, how could I not have noticed that?

"Yeah," Sawyer let out a low laugh, "so what are you doing here?"

"Trying to run off a hangover," I admitted.

"Oh, yes," Sawyers smile instantly vanished to be replaced with a more serious look, "I forgot about that."

"Me too," I nodded, "I mean, I can't remember anything."

"Nothing?" Sawyers mouth twisted with concern as he considered me.

"Nothing after arriving at the party?" I clarified and Sawyers whole face tensed.

"Oh," he mouthed.

"What?" I demanded a pit of dread sucking in my stomach.

"Run with me?" Sawyer changed the conversation nodding in the way I'd been heading.

"Okay," I was hesitant but had no other choice than to start running beside Sawyer in a slow jog. Our feet fell into the same rhythm as we ran side by side.

"You had a lot to drink last night," Sawyer stated in a slow, thoughtful voice.

"Trust me, I know," I interrupted which only got me a sharp look from Sawyer so I shut up and let him continue.

"You kissed that Jenson guy," Sawyer added.

"Shit," I stopped dead and brought my hands to my face. Sawyer halted a couple of steps in front of me.

"What's the matter, isn't he your boyfriend?"

"What?" I snorted, "of course not."

Something flickered in Sawyers eyes, interest? Confusion? "So why did you kiss him?"

Because I was drunk and in pain, I wanted to say but couldn't so only shrugged in response. Sawyer just kept watching me expectantly, he wanted an answer, something I wasn't ready to give. I started running again and he easily fell into step beside me.

"What else happened?" I pressed.

"Grey went to check if you were okay then you threw up everywhere before passing out," Sawyers voice remained impassive, "we took you home and then cleaned you up."

"How did I get into different clothes?" I almost didn't want to ask.

"Mitchell changed you," Sawyer said slowly, "I helped and trust me we had to, you had sick all over you. We just put the t-shirt on over your clothes and took them off underneath, we didn't see anything."

"Oh," I was surprised at their politeness, many people wouldn't have been so chivalrous.

"We were all really worried about you Cara," Sawyers voice flooded with emotion again immediately making me feel guilty, "you completely passed out, you looked dead."

I closed my eyes and saw my moms lifeless face with her glassy eyes and slightly parted lips, that was what death looked like.

"I'm so sorry," my voice rang with an honesty I hoped Sawyer could hear.

"No, I'm sorry," Sawyer said quietly, we'd reached about half way around the wall, "we should've stopped you."

"It's not your job to stop me," I sighed, there was no one to blame here but myself.

"Still," Sawyer paused, he opened his mouth a couple of times trying to say something but never quite forming the words until he exhaled loudly and revealed, "when we got back here last night, you weren't unconscious anymore but you weren't awake either. While we were trying to get you ready for bed you kept talking, shouting actually."

"Oh god," I spun my head so I could look Sawyer directly in the eye, his face was grave, "what did I say?"

"You kept talking about your mom," Sawyer admitted and was unable to meet my gaze anymore, "you started crying, saying that you missed her, that you would avenge her murder."

"What?" I slammed to halt again as my mouth dried up and my stomach lodged itself in my throat. Waves of panic flooded through me, what had I done? I had just put them all in a great amount of danger, something I swore I'd never do.

"Was your mother murdered Cara?" Sawyer shot the words straight into my heart.

I heard the crack of the bullet, the pool of blood, her glassy eyes empty of life and the men who cared so little for her early death.

"No," I lied forcefully, "of course not, I was just saying things."

"Are you sure?" Sawyer didn't buy my lie, not one bit.

"Of course," I forced myself to be even more convincing, if I could do anything it was lie. I convinced myself so surely that it wasn't murder so I could convince him, "I think I would know if my own mom was murdered."

"Either way, I'm sorry you had to lose her, sometimes the world just isn't fair," I could tell that Sawyer was speaking from experience, I wondered what skeletons he had hidden in his closet.

"No," I agreed, "it's not at all."

We ran on, a heavy silence between us. I enjoyed having Sawyers presence but there was an expectation of all the things that needed to be said but couldn't be forced out. I waited for him to break the silence while he waited for me. So we covered the rest of the perimeter in peace until we reached the driveway on our way to the front entrance. Simultaneously, we both slowed to a walk.

"Cara," I almost jumped at Sawyers voice after the long weighty silence. I tilted my head to meet his inquiring stare. Something about his gaze always made me slightly uncomfortable, it felt like he was probing away inside my brain even in the darkest parts which I didn't let anyone see, "you should know the others are quite upset about last night."

"Why?" I wanted him to just spit it out.

"We were just worried about you, you got pretty bad, we almost called your dad," Sawyer admitted his face awash with concern, "we just want to help you."

"Help me with what?" I demanded.

"Whatever you're going through, last night you seemed to drink with this determination like you wanted to get that drunk and pass out."

That's because I did, my inner voice screamed, I wanted to forget.

"That's not any of your business," I didn't mean to get angry, it was just my defensive mechanism to keep any of them out.

"I just thought you should know," Sawyers voice remained whisper quiet instantly making me feel bad for shouting, "Grey especially was hurt by some things you did last night."

"Grey?" My eyebrows knitted together, "what, why?"

"Because Grey, me, Nico, Mitch" Sawyer exhaled in exasperation, "we all care about you greatly. I know this may sound stupid as we've only known you a week but we really do like you Cara. A lot."

"I like you all too," a tiny smile pulled up the corners of my mouth, "but I've never really had close friends before, I'm not really sure how to act." I'd never admitted that to anyone.

"We've never let anyone into our group," Sawyer embellished, his each word slow and thoughtful. He reached forward and touched my arm as he stared past my eyes into my heart, "all of us are such good friends because we have something in common, we all have problems. I think thats why we accepted you into our group so easily, we could see that you have problems too. It's what we do, we help each other. If you let us in we want to help you too."

I gulped feeling the weight of his words settle over me. The Silent Boys, I could see it now, in the glimmer of their eyes and the strength of their smiles that each of them was painfully struggling, just like me.

I smiled with my eyes at Sawyer, maybe he was right. Maybe I had found where I belonged, if only I could just let them in. But I wasn't sure if my defensive wall had been built so thick that not even I could knock it down.