The strain in the area that came with their appearance was obvious to everyone. You could tell by the look on their faces. Most of it was due to the fact that I'm glaring at both Drake and Cayton, and everyone notices it.

Drake was studiously avoiding my gaze, settling for scanning his eyes around the room as if he hadn't probably seen it hundreds of times. Cayton, however, keeps his eyes on me, a look of guilt that he tries to mask on his face.

There's silence, which no one seems to be ready to break. After an extensive glare at all of them, I huff and turn to Bethany, choosing to ignore them. Cayton and Drake, I mean.

Carter casually slides past all of them, going to take the space between Bethany and I. If I weren't pissed, I would have smiled at the way Bethany's face lit up when Carter sat down and put his arm around her shoulders. But I am, therefore I didn't. I just sort of mentally 'awed' while keeping that pissed off look on my face.

"You missed a good meeting Macy," Carter says, causing me to frown.

"Not my fault," I say bitterly.

"Oh, right, you got kicked out by Cayton," he says, and I know his words aren't to taunt me, they're to taunt Cayton. What a lovely best friend, provoking me so I'll go off. Because that's exactly what I want to do. "Such a shame."

He smirks in Cayton's direction, and I grit my teeth in anger when Cayton has no response. I don't know, an apology or something would have been nice. Maybe even a reasonable explanation would suffice. But no. Cayton doesn't say a word, which to me means he must not have even slight remorse for kicking me out.

"Ok, I think it's time for you all to leave," I say finally, facing them. Michael and Trenton start to leave right as I say, but Drake stays put. "You too." I dare him to say something with my eyes, and he looks to Cayton. I scoff internally. If Cayton even thinks about telling Drake to stay, I will enlist Carter and Bethany to kick both of their asses.

It won't be necessary though, because Cayton nods in dismissal.

"And you," I say to Carter, who is watching with amusement.

"No way! I'm not missing this," he says excitedly, ready to watch whatever he thinks is about to go down. I don't try arguing with him, because I know he's almost impossible. So instead, I look to Bethany, who nods in understanding.

"Come on you big dork," she says, before grabbing onto his ear and pulling him up from the couch.

"Ow!" he whines, but Bethany keeps her hold on his ear as she pulls him out of the living room. "Good luck man!" he shouts to Cayton before I hear the door shut. That leaves Cayton and I alone.

"Are you going to say something or not?" I demand.

"What's to say?" he shrugs carefree, starting towards me. "Everything's been taken care of."

I side step out of his way when he attempts to touch me. "Really? I wouldn't know." He sighs, running his fingers through his hair when I move out of his reach once again.

"Look, are we really going to argue over this?"

"No, we're going to have a discussion over why you kicked me out," I say, but the way my voice is rising is in no way implying we're about to have a "discussion".

"It wasn't like that. I just thought it would be best for you to sit it out. I don't want you worrying over all of that when it's taken care of," he says calmly, a polar opposite of how I'm feeling right now.

"It wasn't like that, really? It was exactly like that. And obviously it isn't taken care of; otherwise you wouldn't be having that meeting in the first place!" I rant. "Also, I don't need you deciding what I can and cannot handle. Believe me; I would have been just fine!"

"You're being unreasonable."

"Unreasonable my ass. I have every right to be pissed off Cayton, and you know it. All I was trying to do was state a few simple points. You wouldn't even give me a chance to explain, you automatically took Drake's side!" By this point, I'm yelling.

"I'm not arguing over this," he says with a tone of finality.

"We are having a discussion!" I yell at his back as he walks to the kitchen. Alright, now I'm just picking a fight, but I can't help it. Again, he isn't listening to me.

Does he not understand that that's the reason I'm so mad? I could care less that he actually kicked me out, although I'm not too happy with it. All I care about is the fact that no one bothered to listen to me, or even consider what I had to say. They were fast to shoot down my ideas. I know I don't know a lot about any of this, and my limited knowledge on tactics and such is all from watching TV, but that doesn't mean I can't make a valid point.

I guess I'm more hurt than anything. I'm supposed to be Luna, right? Alpha female, and yet I can't even help with something that has plenty to do with me. Furthermore, all Drake got was a slap on the wrists after blatantly disrespecting me. He had no reason to be like that, and the fact that Cayton watched it happen and I was the one who had to leave might as well have just been a clear sign that no one is going to take me seriously.

"So that's it, you're not going to apologize?" I ask, keeping my voice lower than before, but the anger seeping through isn't the least bit stifled.

"I don't have anything to be sorry for. I'll admit that it could have been handled better, but I'm not sorry for it. We got everything we needed to do done-"

"Oh, I'm sorry I was such a distraction," I cut him off harshly. He sighs, and just by that simple sound, I can tell he's starting to lose his patience. Still, he doesn't bother turning around as he continues scavenging through the cabinets.

"Do you want anything specific for dinner?" he changes the subject.

That's when I realized that nothing I say is going to faze him, that he's completely set in his decision. No, he isn't sorry, nor am I going to get a semblance of an apology. I don't expect him to get on one knee and beg for forgiveness, but looking at me and saying 'sorry' isn't much to ask for. I guess I shouldn't have expected that though, it takes a lot to get him to apologize for something. I've learned that from experience.

"Don't bother, I'm going to bed." He looks at the clock hanging on the wall, then back to me.

"It's only five-thirty," he states.

"Well I don't want to distract you while you're eating," I gripe. "You might kick me out of the kitchen."

His jaw clenches at my admittedly immature behavior. I don't stick around much longer though; I walk out and head straight for our room, which I've just decided is only mine for the night.

I don't know why I thought everything would be hunkey-dorey after the meeting. Her storming out of the room should have been an indication, but I figured she just needed a minute to cool down. I didn't think that in the hour after she left, she would remain pissed off.

I guess some sort of altercation was inevitable, no matter how much I tried to dismiss it. Besides, there wasn't much to argue over. It's over with. At least, in my mind it is.

When I hear the bedroom door slam from upstairs, I know she thinks it's far from over.

I don't like when she's upset, especially when it's with me. I get what she's saying; I could have listened to her. As much as I wanted to listen and consider her points, I couldn't. I have to assume the worst, and the worst is that Joshua is after her. If I think anything else, I could be risking giving him the perfect chance to get to her. I'm not going to let that happen.

And on the issue of Drake, believe me, it would have been him gone if he wasn't so crucial to the meeting. Drake is my best tracker, and he's been on this case since the beginning. It was better to just get her out, that way we could get this done and I wouldn't end up knocking Drake out for the way he was talking to her.

Abandoning trying to find something to eat, I slam the cabinet shut and decide it'd be best to go explain it to her. Hopefully she can see the light.

I knock on the door after unsuccessfully trying to open it. She's locked me out, and judging by the limited motion on the other side of the door, she isn't going to let me in any time soon.

"Macy, open the door and let me explain," I say.

"No!" she shouts back. I groan, a sense of déjà vu hitting me.

"Are we really going through this again?" It's like we're going in circles sometimes, I swear. Right now, for example. We're right back to her locking herself inside rooms and me trying to get in.

She doesn't respond, so I start knocking again. I'm not going as far as breaking the door down, that was a more desperate course of action.

"Macy, seriously, just let me talk to you about this," I try. I can hear her getting up and moving around the room, and for a second I assume she's finally going to let me in. That is, until she throws open the door, looking like she has no intention of letting me in.

"I don't think there's anything else to say," she says.

"You wanted a discussion, so here it is."

"No, I don't want to listen." I see what she's getting at by now, and I can almost predict what's about to happen next. She bends behind the door to grab something, and before I can question it, she throws a pillow and blanket down by my feet. "Consider yourself kicked out. And don't even bother going into another room, sleep on the couch." Then, she slams the door in my face.

As I slam the door in his face, I start to feel bad. Not enough to take back my actions, but enough to make me stop for a second.

If I'm honest, I feel somewhat proud for that one. That's poetic justice for ya.

Anyways, it's not as if it was the bitchiest move in the world. Plenty of women have done it before, and besides, our couch is actually quite comfortable, so it's not all that bad.

I expect him to throw a fit or something, but when I press my ear up against the door, I'm surprised to only hear him mutter a few curses before walking away.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I look around the room. Now that I'm locked in here and hours away from being tired, I need something to do. Besides the TV mounted on the wall, there isn't much to do.

My eyes land on the closet door, and it's like some big internal debate as to whether or not I actually want to fix it up.

With nothing better to do, I turn the TV onto the music video channel and head towards the closet with a sigh.

*

It's ten o'clock when I finally feel like I can go to sleep. With my hair still damp from the shower I took, I slip one of Cayton's shirts over my head and pull back the covers, laying down in the middle of the bed and spreading my arms out to enjoy the space.

I would say that I enjoy having the entire bed to myself, but I don't. It feels too empty without Cayton, and makes me feel sort of lonely. It only feels worse because I know he's just a few steps away.

I stare at nothing, my mind absentmindedly playing with my necklace, my thumb running over the surface and feeling the patterns of the engravings. I have to stop when I start feeling guilty again. Don't get me wrong, I'm still fit to be tied, but not as much as before. Especially with this ridiculous guilty feeling.

Ugh, why am I feeling guilty? It's not like I'm doing anything terrible to him. I could have left him with nothing to use but those tiny couch pillows and throw blanket. I was nice enough to give him some materials.

I close my eyes, trying my best to fall asleep. When I can't, I conclude that the light from the TV is what's keeping me awake, so I switch it off.

That's how I lay for the next who-knows-how-long, my eyes closed, a feeling of fatigue present, but insomnia rearing its ugly head. I realize that it's somewhat pathetic that I can't fall asleep without Cayton, but I suppose that's what happens when you're mates. Before, when we weren't fully mated, I would have been just fine. Now? I can't even make him sleep somewhere else when I'm pissed without me losing sleep.

Deciding I have to get over it if I want any sleep tonight, I grab the cover off the bed and wrap it around myself. It's a little chilly in here tonight, and I'm only in a pair of pajama shorts that are almost too small and Cayton's shirt.

I unlock the door and quietly head down the hallway and down the steps to the living room.

Once there, I find out that I'm not the only one who can't sleep. Cayton is lying on the couch, one hand behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling. I feel bad once again when I realize the blanket I gave him barely covers him, but I find it a little funny he actually took the couch like I said. Maybe I should have taken his height into consideration. He barely fits on the couch.

Yes, the guilt is practically thriving within me now.

"Is it sad that neither of us can sleep without each other?" I say aloud. His eyes snap to mine, with what I can assume is surprise in them. He must have been zoned out if he didn't hear me coming. My footfalls aren't exactly the quietest. He shrugs, his eyes returning to the ceiling. Pulling the cover tighter around me, I sit down on the arm of the couch next to his head. "Well, I really want to go to sleep, so..."

"So would I," he mutters. He doesn't sound mad, but I can tell he isn't exactly happy. What do I expect though? If he made me sleep on the couch, I would be pissed too.

I grab his hand and stand up, giving it a tug. "Come on, let's go to bed." He doesn't budge, and I start to think that he's actually mad at me until he pulls me forward, causing me to fall on top of him.

I look up to see him grinning at me, relieving me. "You came quicker than I thought you would."

At that, I scowl slightly. Am I predictable, or does he just know me really well? That explains why he went off without a fight though; he knew I wouldn't last very long.

"In that case, you're staying on the couch," I announce. "And you're going to be really uncomfortable because I'm not going back upstairs if I'm just going to be staring at a wall until the morning."

I wedge myself between him and the back of the couch, pulling the covers off of me and laying it over the both of us. I can feel him laugh quietly behind me, as well as feel it vibrate through his chest, which is pressed against my back.

Once we're both settled in as comfortably as we're going to get, I feel my eyes drooping immediately as his arm wraps around my stomach and holds me against him. His breath fans the back of my neck lightly, and I sigh in content.

It seems that just his touch alone is enough to cure my insomnia, because I feel sleep pulling me in almost immediately.

"I'm sorry about today," Cayton speaks softly, his fingers tracing patterns on the part of my stomach that's exposed from his shirt riding up. I smile lazily and press myself against him more, yawning.

"I'll let you know if I'll accept your apology tomorrow," I murmur, not letting him know that I've already forgiven him. Before I know it, I'm asleep in his arms.

*

I wake up with the sun shining brightly through the window, in bed. Cayton is gone, but by the way his side of the bed is rused up, I know he carried me up and stayed.

I would have slept longer, but once agian the sound of my phone ringing off the hook is why I woke up. And unfortunately, it isn't Cayton's ringtone.

I grab my phone from the nightstand and answer it without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?" I grumble into the phone.

"Macy!" Trina squeals. "It's about time, I've been calling you for the past thirty minutes!"

"Trina? Why..." I pull the phone back and check the ID, realizing that she' scalling from my mom's phone.

My eyes widen in something close to fear. Dad must have taken Trina home last night. During the summer, he always brings us home one week before school starts. This year, however, I'm not accompanying her. And something tells me Dad didn't come up with a viable excuse. Which can only mean Trina—who has no idea what's going on—told her what she knew.

This should be good.

"Macy Elizabeth, you have a lot of explaining to do," my mother says from the other end.

Well, shit.