"What the hell is Ferdinand doing at your house?" O'Brien asks, shooting a menacing glare in Gavin's direction after he's parked the bike to the side of the road, out of my mother's sight.

I unclip the helmet and hand it to him. "I don't know, but my mother can't see us together. Go home, O'Brien. I'll be okay."

"Do you think I'm afraid of your mother? Maybe she needs to know your so-called boyfriend left you in the woods at night with people you barely know."

"Leave. Please. And thanks for the ride."

Something akin to concern flicks across O'Brien's face, but he sighs and nods. "Don't sweat it, Kitten."

His bike doesn't move; O'Brien stays there, watching me as I drag my feet to the hot mess I call home. My body stiffens at the thought of a confrontation. I didn't want the night to end like this.

When Gavin sees me, he rushes toward me. "Leah, thank God you're here." He opens his arms to hug me, and I shove him away and push past him. He wouldn't have left me if I mattered to him.

My shoulders slump as I climb the steps to the porch.

"Say goodbye to Gavin," my mother hisses and grips my forearm.

"Bye, Gavin," I say without looking at him as I make my way into the house.

Mom follows me in, and as soon as the door behind us closes, her open palm collides with my cheek. My head swivels from the impact, and my eyes water.

I press my hand to my face and flinch at my mother's stern expression.

"You, slut. You just have to keep embarrassing me, don't you? What were you thinking, sending Gavin away so you could stay with those delinquents?"

Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "I didn't ask him to leave! He left on his own and didn't even glance at me. It's not my fault he can't be around people."

Mother scoffs. "People. What people? Criminals, who drink underage? Gavin wants you to stay away from them for a reason. His family would never approve of them."

"I don't care about his family, just like they don't care about me. I did nothing wrong. Gavin left me alone in the woods and drove away. Is that what good guys do?"

"Don't you dare, Leah. Gavin warned me you'd lie because that jerk next door filled your head with ideas, but you know what? It's over. You're grounded. I forbid you to go out without my permission."

"Fine," I spit out. "You'd rather believe Gavin than your own daughter. Is it because of the money? How could you accept their money, Mom? Now, we're indebted to them. Don't we already have enough to pay for?"

"They're generous. They wanted to lend us a hand because Gavin dates you."

"It's a lie," I cry. "Nothing's ever free. They'll want something in return, and I want nothing to do with them. I don't like Gavin that much. You're in denial. You're blinded by those people."

"Don't you dare speak to me like that. Gavin wants the best for you. You should be grateful."

"For what? For not caring how I'll get home? For spending all his time with his friends while I'm alone?"

"He's a good boy who got hurt by your behavior. Go away. I've had enough of your whining."

My mother sits at the table and sighs, staring at her clasped hands.

Tears flow freely now. I dash up the creaky stairs and throw the door to my room open, slamming it shut and locking it behind me.

Not caring about the cold, I open the window and sit on the windowsill with my palm pressed to the tender skin of my cheek. It stings, and I hope I won't have a bruise. It'd only give my bullies more things to tease me about.

"Yo, Kitten!"

My eyes dart to O'Brien's window. He's there again, blowing out smoke into the winter night.

"I'm not in the mood, O'Brien," I say, averting my gaze.

"I can tell. What did Fer say to your mother? Let me guess—you wanted to stay and asked him to leave. Am I right?"

I shrug. "Pretty much."

"Like I said, you have shitty taste in guys, Kitten."

"So does your girlfriend," I say, rolling my eyes. Too bad it's too dark for O'Brien to see it.

O'Brien laughs. "Oh, this is priceless. Are you jealous of Bella?"

"Me? Jealous? Jeez, you're so full of yourself."

"For your information, she's not my girlfriend. Bella and I just fuck. I said that to erase Ferdinand's suspicions. I thought you had enough to worry about."

"Now that I'm grounded, I can worry in peace. I don't think I'll leave my room all weekend."

O'Brien laughs and shakes his head. A strand of his dark hair falls over his eyes, and he pushes it back. "Grounded? Fuck, how old are you?"

"Seventeen," I say, "but I'm turning eighteen in two weeks, not that it changes anything."

"It changes everything, Kitten. If you were in Europe, you'd be able to drink and travel and do whatever you want."

I make myself comfortable. "Have you been there?"

O'Brien chuckles. "Not yet, but Jimmy has. One of my friends, Kennedy, lives in Paris, and I'd love to visit him one day."

I stare at my bent knees, not knowing what to say. I've never traveled anywhere beautiful. Mom chose to live in small towns, and I could never go out to explore my surroundings.

"It must be nice to travel," I mumble.

O'Brien's quiet for a moment. Then, he asks, "Did you have dinner?"

I bite my bottom lip. "Not yet."

"I was about to eat. As much as I love our window convos, I'd rather talk to you sitting at a table. Why don't you come over?"

"I told you I'm grounded. Didn't you hear me?"

O'Brien chuckles. "Save your claws for Ferdinand. I'm gonna come get you."

"What? No! O'Brien, forget about it!"

His curtain moves, but he isn't in his room anymore. That idiot had better stay away from my front door. If Mom sees him, I'll get more than a slap.

"Yo, Kitten!"

O'Brien's standing under my window. My mouth falls open. "What the hell are you doing there?" I whisper-yell.

He grins. "Saving your ass, Princess. Come on. I don't have all night."

"Come on, what?"

"Jump."

"You're insane. I'm not gonna do that."

"I'll catch you."

"It's too high. I don't want to break my neck."

O'Brien laughs, and I glare at him, asking him to shut up.

"No worries, Princess. I brought a ladder."

He's not lying. A ladder is there, leaning against my house, and it seems safe enough. For once, I disobey my mother's orders.

My movements are unsure and cautious as I climb out of the window and put my foot on the metal step. I grip the rails and focus my gaze on the wall in front of me as I descend the ladder.

"Come on, let's go," O'Brien says when my feet touch the ground and my knees stop shaking.

I follow him to his porch, looking over my shoulder and exhaling when I don't see my mother.

O'Brien pulls a key out of his pocket and opens his front door. "Welcome to my house, Kitten."

Unlike Gavin's mansion, where everything looks impeccable and expensive, O'Brien's home resembles a place where ordinary people live — books and papers cover the coffee table in the family room, and a pair of slippers lie on the rug by the couch. The sight of a mug left in the sink greets me as I enter the kitchen.

"I have lasagna," O'Brien says. "Sit over there; I'll get everything ready."

My stomach grumbles at the mention of a hot meal, and warmth engulfs my cheeks. O'Brien glances at me as if he knows my fridge is empty. Pity drips from his hazel eyes, and I hate it. I don't want to be his charity case, but when the lasagna is on the table, I rethink my decision.

We eat in silence. I try to slow down so O'Brien doesn't think I'm starving, but he's too busy chewing to pay attention to me.

"It was delicious," I say once my plate is empty.

O'Brien smiles. "Dad's an excellent cook. I'm gonna have some more. Would you like some?"

I shrug. He serves another generous helping and gives it to me.

"So, why are you grounded?" O'Brien asks after a while.

"For being mad at Gavin," I say.

O'Brien chuckles. "Fer's smart, Kitten. It's easy to earn points with your mother if you're a pressed pants-wearing pussy who won't drink a damn bottle of beer at what? Eighteen? She must've bought his good boy act. I still don't know what you're doing with him."

"It's not that easy."

O'Brien rolls his eyes. "Why?"

"Mom likes Gavin. His family can't do wrong in her eyes. And now it's worse."

"Worse how?"

"Mom's unemployed, and Gavin's parents paid our rent. I'm sure they'll want something in return."

"Like what?"

I shrug. "Who knows? It doesn't matter, anyway. You won't understand."

O'Brien rises from his chair and takes the dishes to the dishwasher. I try not to, but it's hard to keep myself from staring at him.

"Just because it's not my situation it doesn't mean I can't understand you," he says, leaning against the counter. "And you're not wrong. People like Ferdinand's parents never do anything just because. I wouldn't trust them if I were you."

I want to reply, but O'Brien speaks again. "Now, enough of deep convos. There's something I wanna show you in my room."