"Just admit that we're lost, Val," I huff as I drive around Bleecker street looking for some stupid clothing store she swears she can get a deal at.

"You're lost, I could've taken the bus, but you insisted you take me in this gray piece of garbage."

"Now, you take that back. There is nothing wrong with her!" I scoff before running one of my hands down the steering wheel soothingly, "She didn't mean that baby, don't worry about it," I say apologetically to the van.

"You care about it more than you care about me, Daniel," Val crosses her arms

"Are you joking right now?" I scoff and roll my eyes. "No, I don't."

"Really? If you had to choose between me or keeping this waste of money, what would it be?"

I look her in the eyes before shaking my head in disbelief. "You, Val...always you."

"You hesitated." She shrugged and turned away from me, scooting as far away as possible on the leather seat.

"Well, goddamn it, Val. Why the hell are you comparing yourself to a fucking mode of transportation?"

"Why are you yelling at me, Danny," she says through tears, and my eyes widen in shock when I realize she's crying.

I mentally groan and pull the car over to the side of the road, parking near a random building.

"Jesus Christ, so sensitive," I sigh and lean my head back against the headrest.

"I wouldn't be so sensitive if you weren't such a jerk all the time, Danny!" Val finally turns to face me, a trail of tears streaking down her cheeks.

I haven't done anything wrong. I didn't even yell at her, honestly. Yet, here I am, feeling sorry that she's irrational.

"I don't mean to be a jerk, baby. It's just the way I am, I don't know when I'm hurting your feelings, or anyone else's for that matter," I say softly.

"You can be a jerk to everyone else, I don't care. But you better be nice to me, okay?"

I roll my eyes at the 360 degrees turn her mood just did. You can cry at me or scream at me, doing both is overwhelming and will cause me to leave.

She continued to nag and scold me, so I gazed out of the window to tune her out, narrowing my eyes when I saw someone familiar. Two someone's, actually.

A girl, Audrey Michaels, I had a weird crush on her sophomore year, you know, before she put up the "you're not welcome" banners all over school. I thought she was really pretty at first, and I love a girl with confidence and a carefree attitude. She looked right past me and that was my favorite thing about her.

"Are you listening to me?" Val glares.

I nod in response, "of course, I'm hanging on to every word," I say sarcastically as I continue to stare out of the car.

Audrey is with some guy, typical. I don't know his name because all the rich guys look alike. There's nothing to tell them apart from each other...maybe because they wear their uniforms.

Nevertheless, they're standing in front of Planned Parenthood. I hope I'm never in their place, not this soon at least.

Someone's screwed...and I'm guessing it's whoever screwed Audrey.

I roll my eyes as Jace laughs for the hundredth time because of a message from Ethan on his pager. We left school together and decided to hang out at my place, however, we've been laying on my bed in aggravating silence, other than the occasional "Ethan" induced laughter.

I know the guy, he's not that damn funny.

"Hey...so, my mother wants to know if you will have dinner with her on Friday," Jace asks hesitantly.

"Just the two of us?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"Yeah, she said she had something important to talk to you about."

"Why does it have to be us alone, where will you be?"

"I wasn't invited, my dad would've gone but he's got a business thing in Virginia. If you ask me, I bet it's something illegal-"

"I can't go either."

"What? Why not?" He sounds both disappointed and irritated.

"I have this tutoring thing," I shrug. "It's mandatory, I got into a little trouble and it's either this or detention."

"Ugh," Jace groans, "she's going to nag me to death because of this. Why Friday, can't you change the day?"

"No, Jace, I can't get out of it, okay? Tell your mom that I'm sorry, I don't even want to do it."

I've never been a fantastic liar, I know that. Which is why I find it easier to stretch a story that already exists.

I do have a tutoring gig, but do I plan on going through with it? No, and that's the lie.

"Who are you tutoring? What idiot got you mixed up in their shit?"

Finally, something I can relate to. "Leo Rylin," I say in complete disgust.

His eyes seem to go wide for a second before he looked away. "Leo, huh?"

"Yeah, I know you hate him." More than the others for some reason..."And I get it now, it's so frustrating to think I'll be stuck with him spouting facts about the laws of physics so that he can pass the class."

"Well, fuck..." Jace sighs. "Now, I'm frustrated. You know you can't trust a word he says, right?"

"I mean, sure, I guess." I sit up and shrug, "but why do you say that?"

I was never given the story of what went down between those two. Jace came over one night, angry, bruised, and pacing my bedroom rambling about burnouts. He didn't say what happened, he was just so overwhelmed and exhausted from crying. I never pressed him on it...

The next day he confronted Leo in person, and they almost came to blows. If it wasn't for the people around them, I don't know what would have happened.

"He's just a lowlife, Heather. I don't want you near him, let alone trying to hold a conversation with that intellectual lightweight."

"Okay...but that's not a very good explanation."

Leo didn't talk much either when it came to it. He had the nerve to ask me why Jace didn't like him and then laughed in my face when I admitted I didn't know. I'd like to think Leo can't be trusted as well.

But, can Jace?

"Enough talk about dirt, Heather. Let's do something fun..." He changes the subject and tries to distract me by trailing his fingers up my thighs.

"You always keep things from me..." I sigh.

"It's all in your head, baby," He mumbles against my skin as his lips press to my neck.

"No, it's not," I shake my head.

His fingers continued to ghost over my body until they were under my skirt, "Why are you still talking?" Jace says lowly before attempting to get his hand into my underwear.

I scoffed and pushed him off of me.

"I'm not in the mood, maybe you should go," I crossed my arms.

"Are you serious?" He narrowed his eyes at me. "For God's sake, you're never in the fucking mood," Jace says under his breath.

"Well, maybe you're just not a fucking turn on," I say in response.

He glares at me before looking away and heading toward the door. "...prude," he says as he walks out.

"Dick!" I shout back.

"Trevor Harrison Bailey," My father sighs as he walks into my room, pulling open the curtain and allowing the daylight to wake me up. "I guess my questions are answered, you do wake up a literal disappointment to my name."

"Good morning to you too, father," I say groggily as I lift up, letting last night's company fall off of my chest.

"Clean this mess up and come join me and George for breakfast." He fixes the collar on his thousand-dollar suit.

"George?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Business associate, I'll explain after I have my cup of coffee."

I wait until he's out of my room before I leave from under my duvet and walk over to the bathroom, covering my body with a silk robe.

I cringe at the sight of my bloodshot eyes before splashing cold water over my face. I coat my toothbrush in as much toothpaste as possible to try and wash out the taste of alcohol and women.

My memories from the day before are hazy. I remember waking up and going to and from school. But it all goes blank somewhere after the sun set. I played and partied like I had something to forget.

I groan when I hear someone tapping at my bedroom door.

"I said I'll be down in a minute!" I yelled with toothpaste foam still in my mouth.

"Sir? Mr. Trevor, it's Harold..."

"Oh! Come in, Harry!" I say hurriedly and peer out of the bathroom to see his face.

"Oh, dear..." He gasped as his eyes scrutinized the state of my room.

"I know, I need you to wake them up and get them out of here. No breakfast." I point toward the sleeping, hungover girls in my bed. He nods and then looks over to my coke covered dresser. "Right, clean all of that off before calling the maids, thanks Harry, love ya to death." I smile at him before popping back into my bathroom.

Harry's been in the family for three generations already. He raised me and my father because the boys in our family just aren't important until they're men. I'm glad dealing with teenagers is practically at the top of his resume because my sister Sarah was even worse than me. Thankfully, she's with my mother now.

She used to stumble in drunk at two in the morning, and Harry would get out of bed and peel her off of the floor before our parents saw her. When she was cut off, she sold our jewelry and collectibles to party and buy plane tickets— so, Harry would save up enough from his paycheck to buy everything back before anyone noticed. He always loved Sarah the most, she was like a daughter to him. He said he always wanted a daughter.

I didn't bother putting on a full suit to go eat breakfast. I'd like to think I'm not as fake and pretentious as my father. A simple collared shirt that's not fully buttoned up and a pair of slacks will do just fine.

I walk into the dining room to see my father shaking the hand of an oldish man whose beard is already starting to gray. "It was nice seeing you again, George. I look forward to working with you." He smiles falsely.

"And you too, Mr. Bailey," George said in response.

"Oh, please, George." My father chuckled, "call me Arthur, we're partners after all.

I inhaled sharply, and the air didn't sting half as bad as those words did.

"Partners..." I breathed out, "you made him a partner in the company?" My voice starts to rise.

"Trevor, how nice of you to join us...after we've already finished," My dad said slyly.

"You said I was in line to be a partner in the company. That it was my legacy to continue," I argued.

"Yes," he sighed, "but I've decided you're too young, too immature. I might reconsider in another ten years. Until then, I have a meeting to attend. Enjoy breakfast, son."

Oh, screw you! My level of maturity seems to excel way past yours. At least I know that if I had kids, the proper thing to do would be to take care of them. You can't relate to that epiphany.

George and my father pause as Harry comes through, leading the ladies from my room to the elevator.

"Might as well let them stay, now. I won't be busy for another ten years, apparently," I say coldly.

My father looks back at me and chuckles in disbelief. I'd like to think he's proud.

The elevator doors pull apart, my private investigator, Charles Randall, coming out of it.

"My hotel is full of guests who aren't paying, isn't it? Are there more people coming? Don't you think it's a little too soon for another party?"

"It's never too soon." I put my arm over Charles' shoulders, "But— sorry, Arthur, you're not invited," I smile and laugh as he leaves with a disappointed expression.

"Alright, enough of the games, Trevor. I've got something big," Charles says lowly and checks behind him to make sure no one is around to listen.

"What is it?" I ask in concern.

"I know who took the tape."

I huffed as Zach tapped me for the thousandth time. I took off my headphones and pushed my Walkman aside before glaring at him.

"What now?"

"I need to ask you something..." Zach said hesitantly.

"Yes, you can have another soda. There are cold ones in the fridge and there's some chips in the cabinet if you're hungry." I try to put the headphones back on but he stops me.

I guess he's failed to realize that I paid twelve bucks on this cassette for the Superunknown album, and I'm determined to hear it twice before I go to bed tonight.

"No— I want to ask you something else."

"Well, spit it out, I haven't got all day," I say impatiently.

"Okay, let's say I think I might be into someone, hypothetically." I nod for him to continue, "and they've asked to hang out...but it's not just us. Hypothetically, how do I know if they like me back?"

He looks down and fiddles with the buttons on his shirt as he speaks. I can tell this is awkward but also important to him.

"They asked you to hang out, yeah?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Hypothetically," He said quickly, "and at their place, that's where we would be if the situation was, you know, real."

I laugh at his attempts to avoid this very real conversation. "House visits are a pretty big deal, from my experience, at least. It usually ends with me getting laid or to second base. When you get there, feel 'em out, see how she's acting toward you. If she pretty much wants you to herself then there's a chance she likes you, and you should make a move."

"Oh..." Zach's breath visibly becomes uneven and he looks even more nervous than he was before.

"There's nothing to be worried about. It'll seem weird at first, but you'll quickly get the hang of it, it'll become natural. Like a reflex, you know? You just gotta make sure she's into it the whole time."

"Yeah...yeah, sure." He still sounded lost and skeptical about everything.

I sigh, "I know what will help."

I got off of my bed and onto the floor to pull a box from under it. It's full of movies, books, and cassette holders.

You see, I'm no amateur. I've learned from the downfall of my friends how to properly stowawayporn. I keep the tapes in movie cases for other movies, specifically ones my mom hates so that there's never a chance of getting caught. Magazines, however, I put them in folders and store them in bags at the back of my closet. I still don't think that's safe enough.

"What are you doing?" Zach questions when I take out the "It" movie by Stephen King.

"Here," I hand it to him.

"Fuck no, are you crazy?" He backs away like I'm handing him the clown itself.

"Watch your mouth, kid." I scold, "it's not the real movie, it's a porno. My favorite, might I add, so don't lose it."

It cost me a pretty penny for that one, but it was well worth it. A few dollars more than the rest of them for a world of enjoyment. I've never let anyone borrow it before, but this is important.

"I can't...Leo." Zach shakes his head as his face heats up.

"You can and you will. You wanna learn or not?" I shrug.

Why jump into the ring a beginner when you can be a pro?

"I do, but— I don't know if this will help me."

"The girls will thank you for it, trust me." I say arrogantly, "what's your girl's name, anyway?

"It was hypothetical, remember?"