The week flew by and before I knew it, it was Friday. The rest of the week was... weird to say the least. Trent drove me to school every morning, Kyle tried to fight him every morning, and every morning all it took was once punch and Kyle was running away, holding onto whatever body part Trent's fist collided with. My ankle slowly got better, and by Friday I was walking without feeling much pain. I still didn't know much about Trent, we barely talked about personal things, we mostly talked about music or how our days went, if anyone was bothering me that he needed to take care of. I still hadn't figured out what his angle was, but I was starting to trust him as the week went on.

Whenever he got too close, he could feel my shift in energy and backed away. He never tried to touch me; he watched the tone of his voice to avoid scaring me. He brought me ice for my ankle every afternoon. It bothered me at first that he smoked, but the smell of cigarettes and sandalwood soon became familiar and welcoming to me. Trent's crooked smile set off a frenzy of butterflies in my stomach, and the gentle way he said my name made my heart soar. Okay, maybe now I could admit that I had a crush on Trent Rodriguez.

And tonight, he was taking me to a high school house party. I was standing in front of my mirror, holding up every piece of clothing I owned to my body and quickly rejecting it, throwing it onto my floor. After I had tried just about everything, I settled on a green and blue flannel, buttoned up with a black t-shirt underneath. I paired it with black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of black and white checkered vans. I winced in pain when I put on my flannel and the sleeve brushed against the cuts on my arm. I ignored the stinging and focused on continuing to get ready. Once I was as happy as I could be with my hair and my outfit I went downstairs to wait for Trent. Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner and talking about the latest drama at their jobs. I noticed their glances over at me on the couch every few minutes. They knew I was going to a party with Trent tonight, I didn't want to lie to them. Plus, they were the kind of parents who told you that they would come pick you up anytime with no questions asked. The more time I spent with Trent this week the more I noticed these glances. It was like they were worried about me and I couldn't figure out why.

I was pulled from my thoughts by a knock at the door, he was here. The butterflies in my stomach were throwing their own party, and I had to do deep breathing exercises to prevent myself from going into a panic attack. I tried to get to the door, but I still couldn't run with my ankle and Dad ended up beating me to it. I cursed my ankle as my heart beat a mile a minute watching Dad open that door and greet Trent. He put on that big fake dad smile as he shook Trent's hand, I could tell behind that smile he was plotting all the ways he could kill Trent and get away with it. I think my parents thought we were something more than we were. Trent was not gay, not even a little.

"You must be Trent! Jonathan Daniels, it's so nice to meet you! Come on in!" Trent nervously followed my dad into the hall and I slowly made my way over. Trent looked up and smiled when he saw me, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and mine blushed to meet his.

"Grayson, you look great," he said.

"Th-thanks," I stuttered.

"Have him home by midnight, okay? And if you can't drive please call us, we will pick you up."

"Dad, it's okay. We'll be f-fine," I said, even though I didn't quite believe it myself. I had no idea what to expect from this party, what to expect from Trent at this party. I heard rumors, about the drugs he did, how much he drank, I was terrified of the person he would become at this party.

"Just, be careful," he said glancing at Trent with a stern look on his face. I rolled my eyes and walked out the door, Trent following behind.

"You really do look great you know, that color really brings out the green in your eyes," Trent said as he opened the door of his truck for me. Was he flirting with me? He couldn't be.

"You l-look really good too," I whispered, unable to bring my voice a decibel higher.

"Have you ever been to a party before?" Trent asked as he lit a cigarette. I watched the streetlights blur past as we drove, my leg shaking out of nervousness.

"No," I admitted.

"How come?" He took a long drag of the cigarette, smoke filling the truck as he exhaled.

"Do I l-look like the type that would get invited to a p-party?" I asked.

"I think so," he turned to me with a grin and took another drag of his cigarette.

"I'm just the loser g-gay kid that gets beat up."

"You are so much more than that, you know? And I think more people would see it too if you just let them." I blushed and looked down at my hands in my lap, shaking my head. "Just, let loose and be yourself. I'll be with you the whole time." He parked outside of a large brick house with music blaring and a rainbow of lights flashing through the cracks in the curtains. I swallowed the lump in my throat and followed Trent out of the truck and into the house.

As soon as we stepped through the front door I was assaulted by the smell of alcohol, sweat, and marijuana. I instantly wanted to leave. My heartbeat increased with every step I took as I was swallowed by the crowd of sweaty, dancing teenagers. Everyone was confused as Trent and I walked through the party together, I heard some questioning who I was and others questioning why Trent would even be hanging out with me. I immediately regretted my decision to come tonight.

Trent led us through the house to the kitchen, where there was a keg and various bottles of tequila, vodka, whisky, and rum with different mixers. Trent asked what I was drinking, and I froze, becoming a stuttering mess. "Um... I-I I d-don't, I'm uh..."

"You've never had a drink before, have you?" He asked with a crooked grin. I shook my head no and hung my head in shame, embarrassed that Trent was seeing just how lame I really was. "Hey, hey, hey. Don't be embarrassed. I'm not laughing at you; I think it's sweet." He said softly.

"R-really?" I asked.

"Really, really. Here," he said as he poured some alcohol and a mixer into a red Solo cup, handing it to me. I held it up to my face to smell the contents of the cup, and my nose scrunched up in disgust. It smelt like nail polish remover. "It's called a screwdriver, it's just vodka and orange juice, very basic. I know it smells gnarly but I promise the orange juice masks the taste." I took a deep breath in, holding it for five seconds before breathing out, the smell reminded me of my nightmares, of what was done to me, there was always a taste of alcohol on his breath. I had always sworn to myself I'd never drink; I didn't want to become like him. But here at this house party with the most gorgeous guy in school, I didn't want to look like a loser, I didn't want him to stop talking to me. So, despite my better judgement, I put the cup to my lips and took a sip.

The minute the drink hit my tongue I started to panic. As I swallowed it burned my throat and I instantly flashed back to one of my nightmares. I couldn't see Trent anymore, just my bedroom and the dinosaur sheets that were on my bed when I was 10. I felt his hands on me and heard his voice yelling at me to do as I was told and stop crying. I was hyperventilating and trying desperately to push him off of me, hands flailing out in front of me. Just then I heard another voice through my panic, calling my name calmly. I listened to that voice, followed it out of my nightmare and I could suddenly see Trent's face again.

"Grayson, it's okay! I'm so sorry. Here, give me the drink." I held out the hand that was holding the red cup, giving the drink to Trent and then hugging my arms close to my body as I tried to catch my breath. "Here breathe in with me, in with your mouth," he drew in a long deep breath and I copied. "Hold it," he said counting to five, "now release," and we both let out our breath. He repeated this with me until my breathing was back under control. "We can just stick to soda for you," Trent said, pouring me a glass of Coca-Cola.

"I'm s-sorry," I apologized.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have just forced a drink on you like that. Are you okay, why did you freak out so bad?"

"I'd r-rather not talk about it," I told him. He nodded in understanding and we headed back through the house, I assume looking for his friends. I spotted Nat and breathed a sigh of relief. She was with Brayden and some other people who I assumed were Trent's friends. We headed over to the group and I stood next to Nat, hovering on the outside of the group.

"Are you drinking?" She asked, a shocked expression on her face.

"It's just Coke," I admitted sheepishly.

"Now that sounds more like my Grayson," she laughed.

"What about you?"

"Yeah, vodka soda, it's pretty good. I've only ever had a sip of wine at dinner before."

"Trent, what kind of fruity nonsense are you drinking? Is that a screwdriver?" One of Trent's buddies teased.

"I'm not really feeling well, I thought some vitamin C with my vodka might help," he shrugged, deciding not to rat me out for chickening out of my drink. He turned to look at me and I mouthed a thank you to him. He winked in response.

"So um, who's your date Rodriguez?" Another guy asked him.

"This is Grayson, Grayson this is Tony," he pointed at the guy who asked about me, "Matt," the one who teased him, "Carlos, his girlfriend Lana, and Sean and his girlfriend Dani." I knew I would forget all of those names in a minute, but I smiled and politely waved at all of them.

"Hey, he's that kid that always gets beat up by Kyle, right?" Carlos asked. "What is he your charity case now?"

"He's my friend. Keep making fun of him and you won't be," Trent said sternly, puffing out his chest as he took a step toward his friend. Carlos backed down and apologized. Trent and his friends spent the next 20 minutes drinking and talking. Nat stood next to Brayden, twirling her curly brown hair with her fingers and laughing at all of his dumb jokes. I just stood on the outside of the circle awkwardly. I was starting to panic again and started snapping a rubber band against my wrist in a desperate attempt to calm down.

"Hey dude, did you want to go?" Sean brush his hand across his nose as he spoke. I had a bad feeling that I understood what he was asking, and my suspicions were confirmed when he pulled out a little baggy full of a white substance.

"Hell yeah, man!" Trent said and then turned to me. His face fell when he saw my expression, I was still having a panic attack and I was on the verge of tears thinking about Trent abandoning me to go do lines in the bathroom with his friends. "Actually, you guys go ahead, I'm going to stick with Grayson."

"He can come too, there's enough to go around." My eyes widened in fear at the suggestion.

"Nah man, Gray doesn't do that stuff. It's cool, I'll do it with you next time, for sure." I smiled when he called me Gray, that was something that only Nat and my family called me. A warm feeling also washed over me at him declining to join his friends and stay with me instead. I calmed a little as his friends walked away, Brayden and Nat the only ones who stayed behind with us.

"If I had known that this kid was all it would take for you to stop doing coke I would have introduced you a long time ago," Brayden joked before he grabbed Nat's hand and led her toward the makeshift dancefloor that was started in the living room.

"Th-thanks," I mumbled once it was just the two of us.

"For what?"

"Staying with me?" It came out as more of a question.

"Of course, honestly I feel awful I brought you here. This is just... how I get to know people I... never mind. Basically, I'm just used to inviting people to parties with me when we start hanging out. I didn't consider that this is the exact opposite of what someone like you would want to do."

"S-someone like me?" I asked, feeling slightly offended at that statement.

"I didn't mean it as an insult, I'm sorry. I meant like, someone who's good, and innocent." Is that why he's hanging out with me? Does he think I'm some innocent, naïve kid he can make his next conquest? I wonder how quick he would stop talking to me if he found out I wasn't as innocent as he thought. "What is it?" I guess my face gave away the internal monologue I was having.

"N-nothing," I stuttered.

"Do you want to get out here?" He asked.

"Desperately," I admitted. Trent smiled, put his cup down on the nearest table, and led me back to his car.