"I heard Lana's looking for you!" Cameron said, nudging his shoulder with a suggestive smirk. The red cup in his hands was tilted forward in the movement, resulting in some of the alcohol splashing onto the carpet beneath him.

"She can keep looking," He responded, rolling his eyes. "Hell, she can put up 'Wanted' posters with my face on it and I'd still find a way to keep her away from me."

"Oh, come on," Cameron chided. "She's hot."

Carson shook his head, "Not gonna happen, man. But if you wanna try for her, be my guest."

Cameron wasn't given a chance to respond, as Mason came barreling into the room, two girls hot on his heels. He placed a beer bottle down on the coffee table and slid it in Cameron's direction before plopping down on the arm of Carson's chair. The girls made themselves comfortable, one sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of Mason, and the other sat down on the couch in between Carson and Cameron.

Cameron reached for the bottle, using his teeth to take off the cap, and spitting it haphazardly across the room. The girls shared a look between of disgust between themselves before glaring at Cameron, who only gave them a cheeky smile.

"You're gonna be toothless by 29," Talia complained, whipping her long, black hair over her shoulder.

"That's why God invented dentures," Cameron responded before taking another swig of beer. He offered the bottle to Carson, who only held up his hand in rejection.

"You're sister is not going to be happy if you come home drunk off of your ass," Zoey added, tugging on Cameron's arm in a poor attempt to grab the beer bottle from the fist he had made around it.

Cameron scoffed, "My sister's not my keeper."

"Really, then why are you so scared of her?"

"I'm not."

Mason laughed out loud, challenging Cameron's statement. "Should I recall that one time last year when you-"

"Don't," Cameron interrupted, glaring at his best friend menacingly. "Don't even go there."

Mason held his hands up in surrender, and the tide of the conversation had prompted Cameron to put down his beer bottle once and for all, placing it down on the table next to Talia.

The rest of the conversation was carried for the most part by Zoey and Cameron, whose persistent bickering had become the center of the group's attention. Talia leaned back on her hands, throwing a casual statement in, and Mason would make a remark now and then, but Carson was almost completely silent.

In honesty, he almost hadn't come tonight. Carson had been looking forward to getting drunk on Friday all week long. But this week had been shit, and, now that Friday was here, Carson would rather be anywhere else. He only agreed to come tonight because Dylan wanted a chance to get with Talia, and he wanted Carson to be there to talk him up. But Dylan bailed an hour before the party, leaving Carson on his own, too sulky and frustrated to want to socialize or drink himself into oblivion.

He was torn away from his thoughts when Talia extended her leg forward and kicked him in the shin. He startled and let out an audible hiss before glaring at her.

"What the fuck, Talia?"

"Why are you so quiet tonight?" She asked, narrowing her eyes as if she would find the answer hidden on his face.

"I'm always quiet."

"Yeah, but it's more like broody quiet tonight," Mason agreed, joining in on the conversation to avoid being dragged into the small argument that had broke out between Cameron and Zoey. "Usually it's just the 'I'm too hot to talk' quiet."

"That sounded gay."

Mason shrugged, "I'm secure."

Talia kicked Carson's leg again, goading him to answer her earlier question with her persistent gaze. "I don't know," He sighed. "I'm just not really in a partying mood tonight, I guess."

Talia narrowed her eyes, assessing Carson over, before humming disapprovingly. She turned to Mason, "I bet it's a girl."

"I don't get upset over girls," He answered back bitterly.

"Okay, so definitely a girl," She stated, nodding her head.

Carson shook his head. He wasn't really in the mood to explain anything to them tonight, especially a story as long as this one, but if Talia wanted an answer, she would get her answer one way or another. "It's nothing really, it's just Maddie."

Cameron and Zoey seemed to have stopped their private conversation to join in on this one. Carson was known to be pretty seclusive when it came to talking about himself; on any occasion that he said more than a sentence or two about anything, especially himself, was notable. "I thought you didn't like Maddie?" Cameron asked.

"No, I don't," He said quickly. "Not really, anyways."

"I'll take that as a yes," Mason muttered. He always had too much intuition for his own good.

"Look, it really doesn't matter," He tried.

"It doesn't matter?" Talia repeated sarcastically. "Is that why you look like someone kicked your puppy?"

Carson rolled his eyes, "She's just having a really hard time right now, and I- everyone is worried about her."

"Have you tried – I don't know, this is just a suggestion – talking to her?" Zoey asked.

"I mean Dylan and Luna tried. I'm pretty sure Jason-"

"Have you tried?"

"Me?" He asked, incredulously. "She wouldn't want to talk me."

"You guys are friends, right?" Mason asked.

Carson sighed, contemplating the answer. "I wouldn't quite use that word."

Mason shrugged, "Still, you don't know until you try."

Carson gave it a moment of thought, but he was quite certain that even if he could get Maddie to listen to him, he would have no idea what to say to her. His point of view of the situation was much different than hers: he always thought Damien was an asshole, he always thought Maddie was too good for said asshole, and he always thought he would be better for Maddie than said asshole.

And he highly doubted that she wanted to hear that.

"I think you just need a few drinks in you," Cameron said, patting Carson's back. "Come on, let's go get you a nice, cold bottle of beer. That'll cheer you right up."

Carson didn't protest, and allowed Cameron to push hum up from the couch and lead him out of the room. Cameron was doing his best to lift Carson's spirits; he was set on cracking jokes until he could get a sincere laugh out of Carson, and had already managed to get a smile out of him. The crowd became more congested once they had moved into the main area of the house, and yet somehow, Carson's eyes immediately landed on another pair of a familiar green.

Madeline was standing near the front of the room, paused in a stride as if she was stunned, looking directly back at him. Before he could recognize what he was doing, he had closed out half the distance between himself and Madeline, and she was moving to close out the rest. He felt Cameron lingering behind him, but paid no attention to the guy.

"What are you doing here, Princess?" He asked, his voice getting stuck in his throat.

"It's a party," She responded with a shrug of her shoulders, as if to say that his question was dull and self-explanatory.

He peered over her shoulder, expecting to see Luna bouncing into view, or Jason dancing somewhere nearby. When he failed to find either of them, he asked, "Did you lose Luna?"

"Luna didn't come."

He tried to hide his shock as best he could. "Luna didn't come?" Madeline shook her head. "You came by yourself?" She nodded.

He glanced to his side, checking to see if Cameron, who had remained quiet during the entire exchange, was still with him– he didn't want to say anything too personal in front of him. Of course, Cameron was still there, and only shrugged his shoulders at Carson.

"Do you have a ride home?"

"No."

He knew what he should do. Hell, it was what anyone in this situation should do. His mother had taught him well, and Luna and Maddie had always been down the boys' throats about the bare minimums of how to treat girls, so he knew what he should do.

He just hated that he had to do it with her.

Madeline was supposed to be one of the good ones. He had never thought of her as delicate, and he still didn't want to. She was tough and hard and confident, and she could hold her ground. And yet, here she was, so not tough and hard, and certainly not able to hold her ground. All because of some boy– Damien. That was the infuriating part.

It swarmed his thoughts constantly. Any time he thought about it, his hands would ball into fists, or his face would turn red, or he'd feel the insatiable urge to hit something. It was an infuriating thought– to imagine what Damien must have said or done to Maddie, apart from what Carson was aware of, to make Maddie this vulnerable. Completely infuriating.

He turned to Cameron, telling him to thank Mason for hosting the party and giving a very brief goodbye before dismissing him.

"I thought you didn't like her," Cameron said, something skeptical in his tone. "You're taking her home and you don't even like her?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Carson said waving him off. Cameron let out a small laugh before saying goodbye and heading back in the direction they had come from.

He turned back to Maddie, who hadn't moved. She stood idly, wringing her hands in front of her, lightly swaying back and forth while waiting for Carson to address her again.

"Come on," he said to her. "I'm taking you home."

Her brows furrowed, "What makes you think I want to go with you?"

"I don't care if you don't want to go with me, I'm not letting you stay here by yourself."

"I don't need a babysitter," She bit out. "I can handle myself."

It was almost comical. He could always rely on Maddie to be bitter towards him, even if she was drunk off her ass.

"Yeah, I'm sure of it," He responded, rolling his eyes. "Come on, out."

He placed his hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her in the direction of the front door, muttering goodbyes to people he passed without ever fully stopping. Once they had made it to the sidewalk in front of the house, he let go of his hold on her.

"My car is a couple blocks down," He said, nodding his head to the left. "Are you alright to walk?" She nodded her head, so he started off in the direction of his car, allowing her to follow behind him. However, it wasn't long before he noticed the dim lighting of the street, and thought better of his decision considering the time. He slowed his pace, allowing her to get in front of him so that he could watch her carefully– just in case.

She hadn't said anything, and he wasn't going to push her to say anything. He didn't really know what to say either– he hadn't expected to run into her tonight. Of course, she had been running through his thoughts all night, but that was an entirely separate issue.

He considered what Mason and Zoey had said, about trying to talk to her privately, but Maddie was usually stiff as a board around him. He highly doubted that if she was going to open up about her emotions tonight, it would be to him.

This thought prompted him to text Luna, and let her know that he had found Maddie at a party. Luna didn't respond right away, so he pocketed his phone and decided he should at least try to take matters into his own hands.

"You looked pretty upset when I saw you," He started, his eyes darting to his feet, instantly regretting opening his mouth. "Did something happen?"

Her head swiveled forward, her hair falling forward and creating a curtain around her face, hiding herself away. He wanted to kick himself. Of course he knew something happened. He'd be an idiot not to.

"No," Madeline responded after a moment had passed. "Nothing happened."

He didn't believe her. Not for a second. Even if he hadn't known her for years well enough to read her body language, he could hear the lie in her voice. He watched as Madeline bowed her head, a silent sign of her discomfort.

His feet were moving before he could stop them, and he found himself looming beside her, close enough that if he wanted it to, his arm would brush against hers. "Why did you come alone?"

Her eyes were even prettier at night, he concluded, aware that he was staring at her but not really giving a damn. God, she was beautiful. Even if it looked like an entire ocean was mere seconds away from flooding out of her eyes. He hated that.

Madeline looked away from him. "I wanted to."

She seemingly wanted to be done with the conversation, keeping her face hidden from his sight and remaining quiet. But he had already gotten this far, and he wasn't stopping now. He promised himself he would try, whether it was now more for his sake than hers.

"Do you want me to beat him up again?" He said, mustering all the confidence he could so she would feel the sincerity out his words. "It's been a while since I've kicked his ass."

He waited for her to say something brash, or scold him for even suggesting it. But then, she let out a ghost of a laugh, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. When he saw the faint smile on her face, he physically felt lighter, especially knowing that he was the one that had made her smile.

"Are you actually offering?" She asked.

"Clearly punching some sense into him didn't work the first time."

The smile on her face slowly faded as she whispered, "Don't beat him up. Once was enough."

He hated that even more. His hands balled into fists at his sides. Even after everything he had done to hurt her, she was still willing to defend him. It was fucked up that Damien should get away this easily, or that Madeline still had to care about this asshole despite everything.

As they reached his car, Maddie split away from him to enter from the passenger side. "Obviously not, but whatever," He muttered to himself.

He waited to make sure that she was capable of buckling herself in before putting the key in the ignition and putting on his own seatbelt.

Just before he was about to change the gear of the car, she spoke up. "Should you be driving?"

He turned to look at her. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"We were at a party."

"I hadn't had anything to drink yet."

It was precisely at this moment he realized just how lucky the timing of running into her had been. Had it been five more minutes, he'd probably be two beers in with no plans of stopping or slowing down.

He spent the ten minute duration of the ride glancing between the road and Madeline, and felt slightly comforted that she was almost asleep, fighting to keep her eyes open.

When he pulled into her driveway, he quickly shut the car off and made his way out to help her. He held out his hand for her to take in case she lost balance while trying to get out.

She rolled her eyes, "I don't need-"

"-a babysitter," he finished for her. He pushed his hand out further, urging her to take it. "I know." This was really more for his sake, after all. She may not really care, but he certainly did.

She unwillingly grabbed Carson's hand and allowed him to help her out of her seat. His other hand found its way to the small of her back, gently guiding her in the direction of the door.

"Are your parents home, Princess?" He wasn't sure if he wanted the answer to be yes or no. Having to explain why he was bringing home their daughter, drunk at nearly two in the morning, wasn't something he was prepared for, but if they were home, at least he knew she would be safe.

"Probably not," She answered. "I can get the rest of the way myself." She attempted to pull her hand from his, but he quickly tightened his grip on her, pulling her as close to him as she would allow.

"I'd like to see that you get in alright," He said. Even after they had reached the top step and he had removed his hold on her, his eyes remained, watching her every move in a painfully obvious way.

Madeline bent down and picked up the spare key from under the 'Welcome' mat, and unlocked the front door, letting it swing fully open before turning to look at Carson. "Are you coming in?"

He paused for a moment and considered carefully. "I wasn't planning on it."

"That's not an answer."

"Did you want me to come in?"

Madeline sighed, "Well, there's a few more flights of stairs I have to climb. Considering how dramatic you were about those four steps, I just assumed you would want to help me up the rest of the stairs."

He could tell that she was being sarcastic, but he took it seriously. He was not chancing that she would lose balance while climbing the stairs. He followed behind her into the house and stay close as she made her way up the stairs.

He drew back once they had reached the door to her room because entering her room would be too far. He was only here to make sure she got home okay. Madeline seemed to have noticed his hesitation as she opened the door. "You can go in," She urged.

He was surprised that she offered him entrance; he had never been in her room before, for obvious reasons. He wondered just how much she must have drank tonight if she was allowing him of all people to come into her room.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," He responded.

"What if I fall and hit my head while trying to get into bed?" She prompted. He could tell that she was just teasing him at this point, but a wave of concern still washed over him.

"I'm sure you can handle yourself."

"Probably, but it could happen," she continued. "What would you tell Dylan then?"

It was then that he realized why Madeline had been so bitter towards him all night: she had made the mistake of assuming Carson had brought her home out of an obligation, because of his friendship with Dylan.

Could she really think that he had only insisted on taking her home because Dylan would have wanted him to? Another infuriating thought to add to the collection.

Madeline didn't stick around for an answer. She entered her room, leaving the door open for him to follow, should he choose to. He stood at the threshold, debating whether or not he should follow her. Testing the waters, he took a few steps into the room, lingering in the doorway.

"Come here, Carson."

Slowly, he dragged his feet from under him and made his way over to where Madeline stood by her bed. He stopped a foot in front of her, careful to keep his distance as if touching her again would kill him.

"You should get to bed," He suggested, instantly regretting entering her room and determined to get out as quickly as he could.

"Thank you for bringing me home," She answered, swaying slightly on her feet. Her voice was softer now, softer than she had ever spoken to him before.

"Don't mention it."

Madeline leaned in closer to him, a somber look on her face as she studied his. Carson stood paralyzed and watched as her hand followed her eyes to his hair and she gently tousled a rebellious wave. He watched as her eyes traveled down from his hair, scanning over his face, before settling definitively on his lips.

"Really, Carson," she said softly as she pushed her head closer to his, tilting her chin up so that one wrong move would result in their lips touching. "Thank you."

No. He thought. No. He couldn't let her. Not like this.

"Maddie-" He tried.

Her other hand came up to the side of his face, silencing him, as she let her eyes flutter back up to his. "Kiss me, Carson."