The next several weeks passed both surprisingly fast and achingly slow. It felt quick when you looked back on the days that had passed, but slow when you looked ahead.

Nonna was taking liberties all around the house while Mom and Dad were gone, like deep cleaning the house and leaving her gin and coke all around. I was able to make it around quite easily now, having gotten used to walking with a crutch, but still wasn't quite ready to go up the stairs yet. I'd had to fend off Nonna and her shears away from my leg cast quite a few times, but she seemed to be losing steam when it came to "my health".

I'd visited Nolan quite a few times. He was doing well, getting better, I think. It seemed like a miracle, honestly, how quickly he was getting well. Mom and Dad still visited him every day, and I most days, but... he was really doing well!

Nolan's friends, who I guess are maaaaybe my friends now, visited my brother a lot, too, and visited me a lot, even though I was fine.

It was really nice to see them. They're all so cool, and I finally feel like I have friends now. I finally feel... a little happier.

Sure, most days I wake up, wallowing in self-pity and don't want to get out of bed for anything, but when I think about seeing them, I feel like... like I have something to live for. Especially someone. Like- nope. I'm not going there. I do not have a crush on anyone, nope, I do not, not one person do I like. I am a single person. I am a happy single person.

I do not like like people for just staring at me and smiling strangely.

I am completely and happily content with my relationship status.

Yep.

And I'm also really good at talking myself out of things.

I blinked. Stupid Nikki, stupid Nikki, stupid Nikki...

It was only three weeks since the day I visited Nolan with all the kids, and just rethinking over that time that Vince was watching me was about all I could do. I dunno... just something about his eyes, staring into mine, made my stomach feel like a herd of giant Luna Moths. So I decided to do a little research to get my mind off of... things. Did you know that Luna Moths only live for one week? Their sole purpose is to reproduce, apparently, and they have no mouths. They survive on fat stores from larval stage, and then they just die. How bland a life would that be? I guess if I only lived for one week, I'd do everything I'd ever wanted to do. I'd swim the Atlantic Ocean, and I'd dig for gold, and I'd go to Nepal and climb Mt. Everest, and I'd drink a real piña colada somewhere, and I'd sew a quilt, and... well, you get the point. But all Luna Moths do is live- only to have babies. How crazy would it to know that you couldn't eat or drink, and that you were going to die a week after you became an adult? It would be pretty scary. And a little bit thrilling. But, if I'm being honest, mostly scary. I'd be thinking, "AAAAAAAHHHH! I'M GONNA DIE!" or something real eloquent in the same category.

I'd been trying to draw a Luna Moth in my journal for a while, but I wasn't a very good artist. So far, the wings were wobbly and misshapen, and the antennae were crooked. It looked pretty sad. I didn't even want to try coloring it.

Yesterday, the gang (Nolan's friends; that's apparently what they call themselves) came over and visited me for some reason. I enjoyed it a lot, and even more so when at the end, Vince offered to have everyone over to dinner at his house. It's really his parents' house, since he's only sixteen, but you get the idea. I was extremely and embarrassingly overexcited, even though I kept my reaction neutral on the outside. Going to his house? Meeting his family? My overexcited brain was racing. With friends, I mentally chided. Shut up, Nikki. But when he'd suggested it... it'd almost seemed like... he was asking me...

So here I was, asking a sullen faced Willa to help me out.

"So... will you? Please?" I asked hopefully.

Willa rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said in that flat tone that scared me so much.

I looked at my sister. She stared back blandly. Then, without thinking, I lunged forward and hugged her tightly. Willa stiffened, standing still. "What are you doing?" she asked after a minute.

I hugged her tighter. "Hugging my sister."

She relaxed just a tiny bit. Not much, but a start. "Can you stop?"

I shook my head. "No," I replied.

Willa hesitantly put her arms around me. "O-Okay..."

"I love you, Willa. I really do."

"Geez, get off," Willa said after a moment. "You're crushing me."

I squeezed her one last time, and let go. It was a start. A good one.

"Alright, you're done." Willa sat down a makeup brush covered in blush.

I looked in the mirror. There she was, that pretty girl from before. She had greenish eyes today, lined with smudgey black. Her nose and cheeks were slightly pink, giving her a blushing, happy look that I liked, and her too-long hair was tamed and brushed neatly, not looking too-long much at all.

I blinked and reached for my glasses. "Willa, you did such a great job! Thanks!"

Willa smacked my hand away from my glasses. "Nope. Wear your contacts today. Those big clunky things would ruin the look."

"I lost one of them," I told her, deflating. "Remember?"

"Oh." Willa shrugged. "Wear 'em, then, I guess."

"Well... not if they look bad..." I said. I didn't want to be ugly again.

Willa gave me a sideways look. "Why the sudden interest in the cold-blooded?" she asked suspiciously.

"W-What do you mean?" I replied, stammering accidentally.

"Before, you hated makeup. You hated contacts, too. But now? You're all over them. What's up?"

I laughed. It sounded forced. "I don't know what you mean-"

"It's one of those guys, isn't it?" Willa asked. Her voice had a strange note to it, and her face was unreadable. "One of the gang."

"Um, no, no way," I said quickly. "I just, uh, wanted to cover up this zit, see?" I pointed to my nose, for once slightly grateful for my skin problem. "That's all. Puberty is tough, you know, and zits are really gross, plus hair gets really oily during puberty, and..." I rambled on. What was I saying?

Willa looked disgusted. "Um, okay, I'm outta here." She grabbed her Case of Doom and bolted.

I sighed in relief. Safe. I don't know what I would do if Willa found out about... you know. She would be mad, I think, or she'd tease me, or be horrible, or something.

Couldn't I have found a better sunject changer, though? No wonder she ran away....

. . .

"Okay, guys, uh, my parents are, um," Vince started, looking nervous.

"Eccentric?" Aaritra offered.

"Special?" Jack said with a mischievous grin, leaning out of the backseat. We were in Art's mother's car again, waiting to go into Vince's home.

"Uh, no." Vince frowned. "You guys have never met them."

"Well, we were just naming things we saw in you, friend," Art told him, winking.

Vince flushed, grinning nervously. "How about opulent? Wealthy? Posh?"

Art laughed awkwardly, tapping his hands on the steering wheel. "What?"

Vince flushed deeper. "Just so you all know... my parents... are really, uh, rich. Like... rich, rich."

"How rich?" Jack teased.

Caytlin rolled her eyes. "Like we care, Clarke. Just don't make me speak fancy and we're good."

"No... you guys don't really get it... they, uh, they're going to be..." Vince looked beet red, and he shuddered once he'd spoken. "Last time I brought friends over..." he shuddered again, as if the thought of speaking it aloud was too horrible to bear.

Bette reached out and placed a hand on Vince's shoulder. "I'm sure they'll be wonderful," she reassured him.

Vince raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Just... I warned you guys, so..." he led us out of the car and onto a manicured lawn and a fancy looking walkway. The path led up to a huge gate, with iron workings and pillars on either side. Worked into the gate doors was, I'm guessing, the family crest, and the words beside it. I'm not going to lie- it looked really intimidating. But... how bad could Vince's parents be? I mean, they raised him, and he's pretty great, so... how bad could it be?

Turned out, pretty bad.

I knew it as soon as we walked into the front room.

A woman- Vince's mother, I guessed- was perched on an immaculate white sofa, holding a glass of wine and chatting with a man- I assumed he was Vince's father.

Vince's parents stood up. I studied each of them closely.

Vince's father was a very good-looking man, tall and handsome in a business-like way, with brown eyes like Vince's and dark hair cropped closely to his head. They looked quite similar, but there was something different in the way Mr. Clarke held himself from his son. He was smiling at us, but it looked almost like a smirk. I didn't like it at all. It gave me the feeling that if he were a dog, his hackles would be raised. I didn't know what that smirk meant, but I could tell it wasn't good.

Mrs. Clarke was a pretty woman, small and petite with wide-set green eyes and titian colored hair that was styled in an interesting way: half was pulled back into a ponytail away from one side of her face, but the other half was hanging loose, covering most of the other half of her face. It was sort of strange, but Mrs. Clarke was one of those people that would look put together in anything. I noticed she was wearing plain clothes, black leggings and a simple workout sweatshirt. Her strange smirking smile matched her husband's, and she stepped towards us to get a better look.

Mrs. Clarke surveyed us all. I began to wish that I hadn't decided to wear that ugly orange sweater. "Hello, children," she said, warmly enough. But still, there was something strange about her....

"Yes, hello." Vince's father waved in our general direction and checked his watch. "Time to go, darling," he told his wife. Then he turned to Vince. "Keep all your little friends out of my rooms, okay?" He stared at Vince, waiting for him to nod. Vince stared back for a tension filled moment, and then he sighed a little and nodded. I wasn't sure what that meant, but I sensed something more than just a father-son look exchange.

Mrs. Clarke gave her son a tentative hug. "Be good, kiddie. We'll be gone for four or five hours at the party. Don't get anything on my couch, alright?" The loving warmth in her voice sounded a little... forced, like she was putting on a show for us. But she was his mom. Why did she care what we thought?

Vince's parents left soon after, and drove away to who knew where for their party. Four or five hours, I remembered. That was a long time to go to a party. But adult parties are usually pretty long, so I figured it was normal.

After they left, Vince showed us all around. His house is really fancy. They have a drawing room, and a huge kitchen, and dozens of other rooms. I felt like I shouldn't do anything so I wouldn't mess up the immaculateness of the home, even though Vince told us to make ourselves at home there.

"We have soda in the fridge," Vince called out from the kitchen. Aaritra and I, who had been looking at the drawing room paintings, walked toward the sound of his voice.

We walked through tons of rooms on the way, each richer and fancier than the last. The minimalistic, clean style that it was decorated in made me a little embarrassed of my family's noisy, messy home.

When we finally got to the kitchen, Vince was standing at the fridge with Jack. They were both stuffing their faces with what looked like cake with blue frosting that was dripping on the floor. It was... kind of disgusting, but it looked like a lot of fun. I glanced at Aaritra, who wrinkled her nose at them. "Gross. Eat like civilized people."

Vince jumped when he saw us and gave us and gave us a guilty, blue frosting smile. It was actually really cute, but then Jack jumped forward and smooched Aaritra on the cheek, and then came at me, grinning impishly.

"Gross! You awful creep!" Aaritra smacked him, laughing in spite of herself.

I shoved away before he could leave a frosting print on my face. "Creep," I told him, but without ire.

He grinned at Vince. "Beautiful girls with beautiful souls," he said, winking at us.

Caytlin came into the kitchen. She held can of sparkling water in one hand, and a snack bag in the other. "You said there were chips, Clarke." She held up the snack bag, which apparently contained gourmet apple and banana chips. "These ain't chips." She took a sip of the soda and grimaced. "This ain't soda either. Do you have any real food?"

Vince shrugged. He held up a plate of some more blue cake. "Cake?" he asked. "Peace offering. I apologize for my parents' horrible taste in snack food."

Caytlin shrugged and grabbed a piece. "Sweet."

"Nikki, you should have some cake," Vince told me. "It's really good."

I complied. "Where'd you get it?"

"Art. He's been baking recently," Vince answered.

"Huh. Wouldn't have pegged him as a baker. Whoa, this is really good cake."

"Isn't it?" Vince flashed another blue smile at me and I returned it, aware that the frosting had probably stained my teeth as much as it did Vince's.

We stood there, eating cake in the kitchen and smiling at each other, not even caring that Caytlin and Aaritra and Jack were there, too.

And, just for a moment, I forgot about how sick Nolan was, I forgot about how much I missed Grandmother, I forgot about Willa hating me, and I was purely happy.

For just a moment, life was good.