"Please tell me you weren't planning on wearing those?" Mitch stared judgementally down at my feet.

"Well not any more I'm not," I self consciously crossed my ankles trying to hide my shabby trainers, "these are my only vaguely appropriate shoes."

"You don't have any hiking boots?" This was a foreign concept to Mitch.

"I grew up in Vegas," I raised an eyebrow at him and stared him down. I hadn't realised yesterday when I'd agreed to go on a hike with Mitch that it would cause this many problems. The first of which had been the outfit, after turning my entire wardrobe inside out I'd settled on black Lycra leggings and a tight, long sleeved, navy workout top with my one and only ancient black waterproof. Now, the shoes, my well-worn black trainers that I wore for running.

"I guess they'll have to do," Mitch conceded, "I doubt any of our shoes will fit." I took in his gigantic shoes that were at least double the size of mine and came to the same conclusion.

"You are going to have a brilliant time Vegas!" Nico teased from my bedroom doorway where the three other Silent Boys had been watching our exchange with bemused expressions.

"Well at least I'm not chickening out," I crossed my arms.

"You wait until you get going, then you'll regret saying that," Grey insisted.

"But you're all so ..," I waved my hands in the air, "sporty."

"Honey," Nico fixed me in place with a look, "I don't hike."

"Don't listen to them," Mitch turned his back on them and pierced me with his confident eyes, "it'll be fun I promise, and the view from the top is breathtaking."

"Forty minutes tops," I heard Nico whisper not so quietly from the doorway.

"I'll give her an hour," Grey considered thoughtfully.

"Are you betting on how long I'll last?" I demanded outraged.

"I had absolutely no involvement in this," Sawyer held his hands up.

"Suck up," Nico hissed at him before smiling brazenly at me, "yep, and I think I was pretty generous."

"I thought you would have learnt by now," I strolled over to him and tilted my head to one side slowly releasing my most playful and flirtatious smirk, "don't bet against me."

With that I marched straight past him hearing Grey let out a low appreciative whistle, Mitch gave a short chuckle and Nico huffed behind me.

I hadn't even known there was a trail leading straight out of the back of the Kings Bridge grounds. A small wrought iron gate was located in the far right corner that led off onto a beaten track winding through thick grass that reached to mid thigh. In the distance there was a collection of small hills that I knew would be our destination.

"Ready?" Mitch asked.

"Always," I nodded which earned me a glowing grin.

Mainly Mitch and I walked in silence which was good because most of my concentration was aimed at the ground to make sure I didn't trip on the uneven soil while keeping up with Mitch's intense pace. The boys had been right, although I'd rather break my own ankle than tell them that, Mitch did go fast. He set a quick and unwavering pace through the never ending fields and trees that I just about managed to keep up with although I had the distinct disadvantage of my legs being nearly half the length of his. I just hoped that when we did reach the hill he would slow down. I didn't know why I thought that, this was Mitch and when the ground began to incline instead of slowing down his pace almost seemed to quicken. I inhaled and exhaled deeply trying to prepare myself and not let my panting give me away.

Fortunately, the weather was perfect for hiking, the Saturday morning held a clear brilliant sky painted a pastel blue dotted with the occasional barely-there cloud. It was warm but there was a gentle breeze ruffling the leaves in the trees that kept me from overheating. Although a definite sheen of sweat lathered my skin by the time we reached half way up the hill.

"All right back there?" Mitch called out, there was only room for one on the path so Mitch had gone in front leading the way deftly.

"Uh huh," I breathed out trying not to let him hear my laboured breath.

"Want to slow down?" Mitch asked, my attempt clearly was unsuccessful.

"I'm fine," I insisted, regretting the words as I was saying them, but my competitive nature and desire not to be seen as weak was getting the better of me. I could do anything any of the boys could.

By the time we reached the top of the hill my skin was sticky with sweat and I was sure my face was bright red as I tried to even out my breath.

"That was great!" Mitch cried happily while I planted my hands onto my bent knees and inhaled desperately like I'd just come up for air. Great wasn't exactly the word I would have chosen.

"You do go fast," I informed him factually.

"You said you were okay?" Mitch was panicked now,

"I was. I am," I reassured, "it was fast, but I liked it."

"What about the view?" Mitch's voice dropped a few notches in appreciation, "was that worth it?"

In my gasping for air I hadn't even looked around up beyond the rich green grass at my feet to notice the spectacular view. When I finally looked up my breath was taken away.

The clear day meant we could see for miles, the grand buildings of Kings Bridge were clearly visible and beyond that the vast town where I went to school that stretched out like water. All around them was a patchwork of fields each rimmed with a hedgerows or clusters of trees. In the opposite direction there was only land as far as the eye could see. There were small woods and the occasional road slicing through the greenery but mostly it remained one canvas of varying shades of green.

"Wow," I blew out, "definitely worth it."

"Thanks for coming with me," I almost flinched when I saw a hand coming towards my face but it was Mitch's, he caught the strands of hair blowing in front of my face and softly tucked them behind my ear so he could look into my eyes. I found myself taken aback by the sincerity in them, "we never really get to spend time just the two of us."

"No," I gulped, "we don't."

Mitch didn't say anymore, just let his eyes wonder back to the view, as did mine. I couldn't stared at it for hours, absorbing every little detail. Mitch ended up behind me, where hesitantly he wrapped his arms around me, resting them on my shoulders before propping his chin against the top of my head as he looked out above me. There was nowhere safer in the world than in his arms.

***

"How was the hike?" Sawyer stopped dead mid piece of music making me jump out of my reverie, I'd been listening to him from the doorway. After the hike I'd showered and changed quickly before I found myself being drawn to the piano room where I knew I'd find Sawyer. Every spare moment of the day he was practising, although I couldn't comprehend how he could possibly get any better.

"Well I made it to the top," I took the seat beside him.

"That was further than Nico made it last time we all went," Sawyer smiled at the memory.

"What happened?"

"It involved a tantrum on the side of the hill and Nico threatening to sue if I remember correctly," Sawyer chuckled to himself.

"What I wouldn't give to see that," I shook my head slowly. As I did I took in the book Sawyer had been reading the music from, but I could see that it was only printed with the black lines that had the notes drawn onto them in pencil. I spun to Sawyer, "are you writing music?"

"Kind of," Sawyer shrugged modestly.

"The piece you were playing when I came in, did you write that?"

Sawyer only nodded looking embarrassed, "it's a work in progress."

"Are you kidding?" My eyebrows shot up my forehead, "it was beautiful," I punched him lightly in the arm, "stop being so modest. I can't believe you're this talented it's unfair."

"It's not talent," Sawyer dismissed, "it's years of practise."

"Nope," I shook my head, "I don't accept that. The song you played was stunning, it was full of emotion, not everyone can do that. It was sad though, heartbreaking," I looked up at him, his skin had paled slightly and he refused to meet my gaze, "where did all that sadness come from?"

"I don't know?" Sawyer tried to evade but I wasn't letting him get out of it easily. I sat there and waited him out, I had all day. Finally, he let out a long harrowed breath and I knew I had him, "holidays are always difficult, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter even my birthday. I love my family, don't get me wrong, but when we're all together all the aunts and cousins and extended relatives I'm reminded that I'm not really one of them, they just took me in. I don't belong with them, I'm not their real son or cousin or nephew."

"I'm certain they don't think of it like that,"

"I know they don't, and they've never said anything to make me feel like I wasn't as much a part of the family as anyone else. But that doesn't stop me feeling that way, like I don't quite fit. I'm attached to the wrong part of the jigsaw puzzle. And the holidays make me miss my mom as well, my biological mom."

"What was she like?"

"A drugged up alcoholic," Sawyer stated bluntly, "but she was my mom. And she wasn't aggressive or cruel, she could be neglectful but she was lots of fun as well. The alcohol and the drugs, they made her reckless, she would do anything. She would always take me out in the middle of the night and we'd roam the streets; go to any restaurants still open or one time she even broke into an aquarium and we wondered around there all night." Sawyer's voice disappeared from a whisper into nothing.

"And the holidays, when you're meant to be with family, they remind you of her," I acknowledged, I'd been feeling exactly the same pang for my mom. I'd kept the enthused smile on my face for my dad and then the boys but inside my heart was yearning for her.

"Exactly," Sawyers voice shook.

"Will you play it for me?" I tilted my head towards the sheet of music.

Sawyer responded by raising his hands over the keys and beginning with the first lingering note. I closed my eyes, let my head fall back and just listened.