"Hey! Could you girls get the rest of the groceries out of the car, please?" Aja bustled into the house with her arms loaded down with heavy looking brown paper bags and both of us jumped.

Stormer pulled her hand away from mine the instant we'd heard the lock turn over in the door. We'd been sitting on the couch watching TV, but we both reacted like we'd been caught doing something underhanded and sneaky. "Uh, sure, Aja,"

"Thanks! Trunk's open, there's only a few bags left," Aja said as she darted into the kitchen.

"Come on, Roxy," Stormer said.

"Ugh, I don't see why we gotta carry the damn groceries," I muttered, but I got up and followed her out to the drive way anyway. This was part of 'playing nice' at the Phillips' house, and it was dumb and boring, but I did it all the same cuz it would do nobody any good to start an argument. Craig's green sedan was parked in the driveway and waiting, but it wasn't just a 'few bags' that needed to be hauled inside. "Her definition of 'a few' needs some work," cuz six was not a few!

Stormer picked up one of the bags and handed it to me, and I grabbed another. We made our way back inside and deposited the haul onto the kitchen table as Aja was on her way out to grab the last two remaining bags.

"Did you empty the shelves or what?" I asked her when she got back with the rest of the groceries.

"Pretty close," She chuckled. Aja started putting stuff away in the cabinets and fridge. She didn't ask for help, so I slid onto one of the bar stools and watched her.

"What's it all for?" Stormer asked, eyeing some especially monstrous cans of whole tomatoes. "Why'd you get so much stuff?"

"Well, for starters, you girls eat as much as an army," Aja teased. "I thought I'd make lasagna from scratch, though. It takes a lot of stuff just for the sauce."

"Whole carrots?" I asked skeptically. I didn't know what she was making, but I was sure it wasn't lasagna.

Aja nodded. "Carrots, onions, celery- it's called mirepoixe, kind of a stable base of ingredients for a lot of things, and then there's tomatoes, garlic, tons of herbs and mushrooms. And that's just the sauce!"

I chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Well look at you, Betty Crocker. Did you just run up and down the produce aisle grabbing things? Where did you learn to make lasagna?"

"It's Mrs. Bailey's recipe," The Hologram said. Mrs. Bailey, that old witch they kept around as a nanny for the Starlight Girls. "She'd make it a few times a month for all us us and sometimes I'd help her in the kitchen. It's really good."

"Sure, if you're Bugs Bunny," I said. "Who ever heard of carrots in a marinara sauce?"

"Trust me, Misfit, you'll like it," Aja said, unphased in the slightest. "And don't even start with how you're Italian so you know real Italian cooking. You can't even make toast."

Stormer hissed and giggled at the jab. "She kinda has a point."

"Yeah, well that doesn't mean I don't know what real Italian cooking tastes like," I said, but I didn't really mind the pot shot. Aja had proven to be a pretty damn good cook, even if she had weird ideas about what went into sauce.

"You want to make yourself useful and help me chop these up?" She motioned to the bunch of carrots as she finished putting away the last of the groceries that she didn't intend to use immediately.

"You really want to hand me a knife?" I shot back with a look of disbelief. I grabbed a white onion and tossed it back and forth between my hands like a baseball.

"I'll help you, Aja," Stormer volunteered. She hopped around to the other side of the counter and Aja laid out a big cutting board for her to use.

"Thanks," She handed her the bunch of carrots. "I only need three of them."

"OK," Stormer pulled an eight inch chef's knife off the magnetic strip mounted on the wall next to the fridge and started working on the first carrot. She carefully sliced the ends off the carrots. Slowly. She carefully cut one slice, equally slowly with a very deliberate motion, and then another. In spite of all that, somehow the first slice and the second slice managed to come out in totally different sizes.

Aja took one look at her total lack of knife skills and giggled. "You girls really don't know anything about cooking, do you?"

"Sure," I said. "I've got the number the the Chinese place memorized."

"Pizzazz has a chef at the mansion," Stormer told her. "We never have to cook when we're up there."

"But weren't you living at your place all spring? What did you do there?" Aja asked as she breezed through dicing up the onion.

"Chinese take out," I told her. Had I not just said I had the number memorized?

"Or pizza," Stormer added.

"She makes really good grilled cheese sandwiches," I mentioned.

"And pancakes!" Stormer smiled. "I can also make banana splits, and I made cookies once but they were the kind from the freezer where you just put them on the sheet and throw them in the oven. That doesn't really count."

"I'm not sure banana splits count, either," Aja said with a dubious shake of her head.

"We ate a lot of cereal," I mentioned. More like we ate a TON of cold cereal. Like, every kind of cereal under the sun, sometimes two or three times a day.

"You always brought stuff back from Red Rock," Stormer reminded me, adding to our list of horrible eating habits.

"That's awful," Aja said. "You should at least know how to make one real meal from scratch. Your parents never showed you anything in the kitchen at all?"

"Sure. That's how I know how to make pancakes," Stormer said with a little smile.

"Roxy?" Aja looked at me.

I shrugged. "I know how to shop lift ten pounds of snacks out of a Quick Stop without getting caught," I told her honestly. "That was as close to home cooking as it got when I was a kid."

"What?" Aja gawked at me, wide eyed and a little bit aghast.

"What?" I mimicked her. "Don't look at me like that, it's not like I do that any more."

Aja looked at me like she wasn't sure that was true at all. "Why'd you do it to begin with?"

I shrugged again. "I grew up in foster care and then I was on the street. It was either that or starve. Or dumpster dive, and that's just gross." I tossed the onion back onto the counter top. Aja was really staring at me now, and it made me skin crawl. "What?"

"You were a foster kid?" The Hologram asked.

"Yeah. So what?" I shot her a nasty look.

"Where were your parents?" Aja wanted to know. She set about chopping up white button mushrooms.

I shrugged. "I dunno. Not around." Last time I'd seen my mom I was four and I'd never met my dad. For all I knew they were both dead by now. I didn't know where they were and had long since stopped caring.

A concerned looked passed over Aja's delicate features and she stared at me silently.

"What?" I asked her again, getting a little annoyed.

"I just never knew you were a foster kid, that's all." She said. There was no reason she should have known that, of course. It wasn't like we ever sat down and had big heartfelt converstations about our respective childhoods. "How long were you in the system?"

That made it sound like prison, which wasn't exactly an inaccurate description. "Ten glorious years. I went in when I was four, ran away for good when I was 14."

"Why did you run away?"

I rolled my eyes at the third degree she was giving me. "Ugh, cuz not everywhere is the fucking Starlight Mansion, alright?" I frowned at her. And some places are so bad that living on the street seems like a step in the right direction. This was ancient history and I hated dredging it up. "You sure do ask a lot of dumb questions. Why does it matter? I ran away and quit school and lived on the street for a few years and then I hitched out to LA and joined the Misfits. Now you know my whole life story, so knock it off."

"Roxy..." Aja shook her head and sighed. She looked like she wanted to say something more about it, but let it drop. "Forget it. Come here," She motioned me around to the other side of the counter.

"Why?" I eyed her with suspicion.

"Just come here. You're gonna learn this recipe, too."

I shook my head and folded my arms. "No way."

"Oh yes you are, Misift!" Aja insisted. "Either get over here or you can go clean the bathrooms. You don't get a free pass to sit on your ass and do nothing all day."

"Ugh, yes MOM," I rolled my eyes at her but slid off the bar-stool. Lesser of two evils, but sheesh she was bossy! I walked the three feet around the counter. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, the first thing you both need to learn is how to use a knife..."

Aja spent all afternoon walking us step by step through Mrs. Bailey's recipe. We sliced vegetables, smashed tomatoes, boiled fat lasagna noodles and laid them out in a long glass pan until we needed them. We chopped fresh basil and oregano and shredded a big wedge parmesan cheese and she showed us how to peel garlic. Her lasagna recipe got crazier and crazier. Spinach and cottage cheese instead of meat and ricotta for the filling? But the Hologram insisted, and Stormer and I followed along.

It wasn't that I liked taking orders from a Hologram, but honestly? The distraction was nice.

Stormer had been upset earlier cuz I didn't want to talk. I felt like all we did was sit around and talk about heavy emotional crap, all day every day. Why did we have to sit around and talk about more heavy emotional crap?

It was one thing to listen to her talk about what was going on with her, how she felt on any given day as she worked through being depressed and anxious and figured out a way to cope. That was still hard, but that wasn't about me. That was all her and I was just along for the ride. She wanted to talk about us, though, and that was asking too damn much.

I didn't get it. Why mess up a good thing? We really did have a good thing going, too. We were good together. We had never been closer friends than we were now. We got along, we worked like a team, we'd managed to somehow live under the same roof for months without burning the place down or killing each other in a fit of cabin fever induced craziness. What was so bad about that? Why wasn't that enough?

Why the hell did she have to go and kiss me?

I had never really thought of Stormer in that way. Not that I hadn't noticed her. She's beautiful and I'm not blind. I'd seen her in various states of undress to nearly naked every night back stage on tour and being made to share hotel rooms when we traveled. Of course I noticed. But pretty aside, she was never my type. She was always the soft one of the group, and I liked girls like Pizzazz- loud and wild and kinda dangerous. Girls who didn't care about anything and had nothing to lose. And yeah, so that kind of just summed up the entire Misfit philosophy on life, but that's what I liked about the Misfits. We WERE those girls, all except for Stormer. She was always too nice, too soft, too kind and caring and too concerned about what other people thought and how they felt. We were beyond compatible on stage playing music, but other wise she was exactly the opposite of what I normally go for.

I'd also learned the hard way that messing around with girls in the band was a bad idea. Back when the Misfits first got together, PIzzazz and I had been, well, not dating cuz that was just stupid, but we'd fooled around. I'd had it bad for her. Like I said, she's exactly the kind of girl I go for and she's a fucking force of nature. Of course I fell for her. But then Jetta came along and that was the end of that. I'd been angry and Jetta and I had fought constantly as a result. The truth was they were better off together and I had just not wanted to see that for the longest time. They both like guys and didn't care if they slept with other people, and I'm not into any of that so more power to them.

Knowing all that, it had still taken me too damn long to get over Pizzazz. We may not have been serious and I knew we never would have been, but I'd liked being with her. We were unstoppable and fearsome together. She left and I didn't take it well. Pizzazz was just one more person that hadn't stuck around. No matter how much I act tough and like I don't give a damn about anything, I'm only human and it hurt me. We were still friends but it wasn't the same. I wasn't about to make that same mistake again.

But the way Stormer kissed me...

She'd kissed me and I'd freaked out and wanted to pretend it hadn't happened. I sure as hell didn't want to talk about it with her. It wasn't the kiss itself that freaked me out, though. I've been with plenty of girls and never flipped out like that. It was the emotion that went along with the kiss, I realized. I've never had that. Sex for me was usually with some girl I barely knew and it hadn't meant anything to either of us, it was just for fun. That's how it had been with Pizzazz, too. Something to do. People using people. Stormer kissed me and it was so completely opposite of any of that, I didn't know what to do. It had felt so right, but...

It would be a huge mistake. I loved being friends with Stormer, and I cared so damn much about her... More than I'd ever cared about anyone, that's for sure. I didn't want to ruin that.

So why did I keep replaying that stupid kiss over and over in my head? I stirred the big pot of bubbling marinara sauce with a huge frown on my face and all I could think about was how nice she felt and that I would kill to feel her soft skin against mine again.

"Can I taste?" Stormer asked me out of the blue. She rinsed her spinachy hands off and dried them on a checkered towel.

"Sure," I backed away from the cauldron of tomato sauce and she stepped up with a clean spoon. She blew on it to cool it down and then popped it in her mouth. "Mm, OK... That's amazing!" She smiled at Aja.

"Told you so," The Hologram said with an all knowing smile from where she sat on the opposite side of the counter directing us.

"Seriously? Even with the carrots?" I cocked a skeptical eyebrow high on my forehead.

Stormer nodded and pulled another spoon from the drawer. She dipped it into the sauce and held it up for me. "Here, have a taste."

Damn it all, I wanted to do just that.

(***)

"Put it down," Craig Phillips stood there glaring at me from the bottom of the basement stairs, big meaty arms folded like he meant business, square jaw set. He looked like somebody's dad, all pissed off and ready to ground you for eternity. It made me laugh, but I didn't put the six string guitar down. Instead, I tore through the opening riffs of 'Jack Take a Hike', but I don't think he got the joke. Stormer did, though, and tried really hard not to laugh.

"Is it too much to expect you to ask for permission before you come down here and-"

"Crai-ig... I told her it was OK. You always let me come down here before," Stormer smiled ever so sweetly at him, big blue eyes looking innocent as the pure driven snow even though she was lying through her teeth- at least about the telling me it was OK to come down and goof around in the studio part. She never told me that and I never asked. I wandered down here this morning and felt like playing and just did it. She came down and joined me, but please, I never asked permission. A Misfit never asks for anything, a Misfit takes, and that's all you need to know. It amused the hell out of me that she was covering for me with that big goon of a brother of hers.

Craig's lips pressed into a tight thin line. I swear, a vein was popping out on his forehead. He looked like he was about to pop.

"Mary, I want to talk to you," He said in that stern Daddy voice. God, what was Stormer? His kid sister or his kid? "Now. Upstairs," The drummer-boy stomped back up into the kitchen. I rolled my eyes.

Stormer sighed and shrugged at me. "Be right back..." She said in a sing-songy little voice, little smile on her lips.

About ten minutes later she wandered back down all in one piece, so I guess the Wrath of Craig wasn't that bad after all.

"Did Big Brother blow a gasket or what?" I asked, fingers flying over the strings.

"Nah, it wasn't that bad," Stormer said. She sat back down on a swivel chair and popped an orange sucker in her mouth.

I nodded. "Right, and Jetta's the Queen Mum," I chuckled. "So are we grounded or what?"

Stormer laughed. "Uh, no. We can use his equipment, just try not to break anything."

"Please," I snorted, "I'm a professional. Only time I break a guitar is on stage as part of the show." If Craig was worried about us breaking stuff, he should be worried more about his sister than me.

"You're a professional something," She smirked.

"Smart ass," I made a face at her. I changed pace and ran through one of my favorite songs, playing the lead part. I love bass guitar, but sometimes I like to change gears. Lord knows I play the lead stuff for the Misfits enough, at least when it comes to recording the music. "Come on, play with me."

"In case you didn't notice, Craig doesn't have a synth to borrow," She said. She pulled one bare foot up onto the edge of the chair and wrapped her arms around her knee.

"So play guitar," I said.

Stormer shook her head.

"And why the hell not?" Guitar was not her instrument of choice, but she was more than capable of playing one.

She shrugged. "Don't feel like it," she said, licking her lollipop.

"Right," I said. Didn't feel like it, but I was sure there was more to it then that. "Please tell me this isn't cuz of what happened last time you picked up an instrument?"

"What?" Blue eyes opened wide. "Here or in L.A.?"

I had to laugh, "Uh... take your pick, I guess. You kinda trashed 'em both."

She sighed, but smiled sheepishly at me. "Anyway..."

"Anyway, grab a guitar and plug in," I commanded her, for all the good it did.

"Nah..." Stormer spun around in the chair, stubborn to no end.

"Suit yourself," I said, not meaning a word of it. Desperate times call for desperate measures; I pulled out the big guns and waited for her to be blown out of the water.

About five seconds into the song Stormer started squealing- right on queue.

"Oh my god! OH MY GOD!" She jumped out of her seat and hopped on tip toes, clapping her hands. "I didn't know you knew anything from Back2Back!"

"Don't have a heart attack or anything," I laughed at her. Jeez, didn't take much to float her boat.

"I didn't even think you'd heard the whole CD," She grinned at me excitedly

I scoffed, "Are you kidding? You should have heard Pizzazz go on and on about it. Oh yeah, we heard it. She made us listen to it, had to see what the big damned deal about playing with Kimber was," I rolled my eyes.

Her smile turned a little bit mischievous. She probably thought that was funny or something. "You liked this one, huh?"

"What, the song?" I asked, strumming through the breakdown. I actually kinda did. It was heavier than most of the stuff on the album, hard guitar riffs and plenty of attitude problem. "Eh, it doesn't suck. Not like some of the other junk on that record. And don't even ASK me to play 'I'm OK'!"

"Play 'I'm OK'," She asked, batting her eyelashes.

I balked at her request,"What? Didn't I just say-"

"If you play it, I'll play with you," She said, walking over to look over the selection of guitars Craig kept on hand. "Trade. You play 'I'm OK' and the next song's your choice. Anything you want. Deal?"

I thought that one over. "OK. Deal. But I'm NOT singing it!" I huffed, spinning on my heels. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Stormer smiling. Good. Not that I wouldn't have done it anyway, I mean, that WAS the point after all. That's why I'd played the only cool song from that CD she'd done with Kimber to begin with, as bait to get her to play. God, the lengths to which I'd go, the depths to which I'd sink... What the hell, right? Who's here to hear me playing the stupid song other than the girl who wrote it? If playing the sappy load of crap got her to pick up an instrument, then it was worth it. Anything that got her playing again- and I mean comfortable with playing so that she didn't flip out and start breaking stuff or crying, comfortable enough to play on stage again... I'd do it, even if it meant playing some stupid song she'd recorded with Kimber. "Plug in,"

"Seriously?" She glanced over her shoulder as she picked up a gorgeous canary yellow Fender with pearlescent white inlay all up and down the neck. Go figure she'd pick the yellow one, she always had a thing for yellow. How did Craig not know that was her favorite color?

"Yeah seriously. Hurry up though before I change my mind. I HATE this song," I really did. Too damned sappy to put into words. There was a good reason Pizzazz had crumpled the sheet music for it and tossed it in her face. So not a Misfit song. But I'd play it, if it got her to play a little. After the last few times she'd been in a studio, it would do her good to play something light hearted.

Stormer took a deep breath and took a moment to tune up, strumming out a few chords. "This song really works better on a synth and keyboards,"

I nodded. It'd probably work OK in a trash compactor, too. "Don't worry, I can make anything sound good."

She laughed at that and tossed her sucker in the trash."So very modest. Ready?"

"On your mark, get set..." I teased. "Sweetie, I was born ready. Get to it,"

I let her open the song up, first couple of bars were solo anyway. I played from memory and did a decent job of it considering I'd basically tried to forget every note of the stupid song. It was no easy feat considering the thing had played on the radio nearly non stop for six months, it had been impossible to escape. We ran through the music once and then picked it right back up a second time, this time Stormer sang along. The recorded version did her no justice at all. Sure, I thought the lyrics dumb, but her voice was beyond good and that almost made it bearable to play along with her.

By the end of the second run through, she was smiling broadly.

"OK, your turn. What'll it be?"

"You pick," I told her, glancing up from the strings on my guitar.

Stormer's eyebrows shot up for a second. "What? That wasn't the deal. I pick one, you pick one, remember?"

"You said anything I wanted," I reminded her. "And I want you to choose the next one. So pick something good,"

She shook her head but was smiling and a minute later we launched in to the next song. She picked an old Zomboys song we'd heard about a thousand times when they opened for us on the Southern leg of our North American tour a few years ago. As weird as those guys had been, the song was actually really good. Classic speed punk on Halloween with lots of guitar distortion, it was a lot of fun to play.

We tore through a bunch of old Luna Dark tunes next, and then launched into a bunch of Misfit songs. We played Universal Appeal, which is an entirely different song when Stormer sang it, and we ran through You Gotta Be Fast and Free and Easy just for fun.

My fingers hit the strings and I sped through the notes of a song I knew Stormer would be well familiar with. I played through it fast and dirty, though, and she didn't seem to recognize it at first. I upped the ante and stepped up to the mic.

"Down at the coast, walking down the beach, I feel hungry, I need something to eee-eeeaat! So come come on, come on, come on in it's nacho ti-iime! Buy me chuuu-ros, their divine! Mas tequila, salt and lime! Come on, come on, come on in it's nacho time!" I sang in the tune of a classic Hologram song,changing every word of the lyrics.

Stormer burst out laughing. "Oh my god! Aja will kill you if she hears that!"

"Dammit, now I really do want nachos," I giggled and wiped my eyes.

"That was hilarious," She laughed at my little parody. "Do you have more lyrics or just the chorus? How did you think that up?"

"Nah, just the chorus. I like Mexican food," I shrugged. "Can you even get Mexican food in this country? We should totally get Mexican for dinner if there's anywhere around here that makes it."

"Probably have to go into the city. That'd make a fantastic jingle for like a little taqueria, but I'm pretty sure the Holograms would hate it!" She laughed again smiled at me and said, "Thanks."

"For what?" I asked rubbing my left shoulder. My arm was paying the price for the afternoon. My left shoulder ached and felt like it needed to be pushed back into the socket; not pleasant. A little stretching seemed to do the trick, at least temporarily.

"For getting me down here. For making me laugh." Stormer smiled so sincerely, her blue eyes sparkling brightly. She added, "For playing a bunch of my favorite songs even though I KNOW you can't stand them."

"Oh come on, who doesn't like Luna Dark?" I asked- and then promptly acted like I was gonna throw up all over the floor.

Stormer laughed, "Thanks for proving my point so eloquently,"

"Any time," I said with a smirk. I worked the fingers of my right hand into my left shoulder a little harder.

"You're arm OK?"

I shrugged. "I need to be down here as much as you do if I'm ever gonna play a show again," That was the damned truth. A normal Misfit concert had us up on stage for anywhere between an hour to two, depending on how ambitious we were feeling and the size of Pizzazz's ego on any given night.

"Yeah..." A slightly pained expression passed over her face like a shadow and she glanced down at the floor briefly. With a sigh she started playing again, something I didn't recognize.

"New song?"

She shook her head and then nodded. I laughed.

"OK, it's new but not new. Gotcha. Well, music's good, either way." I said. The song was light, upbeat even though the whole thing had an underlying minor key tonality that gave it a backbone as dark as sneaker wave. I smiled and listened, picking up the music easily. I joined in at the next break, following her lead and instantly wishing I had a bass in my hands instead of a six string.

"Hold on," I paused and unplugged the guitar I'd been working on and picked up the lone bass in Craig's studio, a glossy Ibanez with a natural finish. It wasn't as stylish as my pretty pink bass in LA, but it was a nice instrument all the same. I tuned it quickly and we were back to work. We played around with the song for a while longer, bouncing chords and riffs around until it sounded tight, always working off her original idea.

And then she stepped up to the mic and started singing with along with it and my blood ran cold. Just like a sneaker wave, the song suckered me in and killed me before I knew what had happened.

Ok, I've already said that she has a great voice, nobody would deny that one. True to the music, she sang the lyrics in a tone that was at once upbeat and cheerful but cut through with the pain of some deep wound that lay hidden just under the surface like a bruise that hadn't yet marred her skin.

And the punch line? It was a love song.

I didn't even realize it was a love song until she hit the chorus. There was hope and sadness in her voice when she sang that knew how crazy and foolish it was to love, and how people would say she was insane but she'd learned to love the pain, so let it hurt...

I don't know, my mind sort of went blank when I realized she was smiling at me. Like, really intently smiling at me with this kind of broken expression and this deep, longing sort of look in her eyes. She was singing about me, I realized. Singing about US and what we could be.

I think my arms went limp at my side from the shock cuz I suddenly noticed I'd stopped playing. Stormer blushed and looked at her toes and cleared her throat. She took a deep breath and exhaled and looked back up at me and it was exactly like the other day when we'd been looking at her family photo albums: too intense, too real, completely impossible to ignore.

The way she looked at me made me ache deep inside my chest. The feeling frightened me as much as it excited me. No, that wasn't right. It was unfamiliar and raw, and it scared the hell out of me because the hope and promise it offered couldn't be real.

"Hey, that was sounding good," Aja said, hopping down the stairs to the basement.

I have no idea how long we'd been standing there staring at each other like idiots, but the sudden Hologram intrusion made me jump.

"Oh, hey Aja," Stormer said, sounding about as flustered as I felt- then again, maybe I was just projecting. She sounded like Stormer often sounded; kind of quiet.

"Whatever you were playing is really good. New song?" The Hologram asked as she looked through the stack of tab books.

I scoffed at her. "Yeah right, like the Misfits would ever play anything that sappy," I said reflexively.

Aja shot me a funny look. "I don't know, sounded like a good rock song to me. And besides, HALF of the Misfits were just playing it, so why not?"

She had me there. I felt my cheeks burn and I turned my back to her, unplugging and putting the bass back down in its stand.

"Hey, can you get Mexican food anywhere around here?" Stormer asked her all of a sudden, doing a good job of changing the subject.

(***)

"Aja," I breezed into the kitchen and leaned across the counter, all business. "I'm only gonna say this once so pay attention."

"Ugh," The Hologram chuckled at me as she wiped down a clean cup and slid it into the cupboard cabinet. "What now?"

"I need your help." I told her flatly.

That caused her to raise an eyebrow. "What, did hell freeze over?" She asked earnestly.

"This is serious. Craig's gonna be gone all day, right?"

"Yes... So? Do I need to put a preemptive call out to the fire department?" Aja laid the dish towel down on the counter and suddenly gave me a hard look, like she had x-ray vision and was trying to tell what I was up to.

"Har har," I rolled my eyes and folded my arms on the counter top. "Stormer's been OK for the last few days," I started, as this was crucial to what I had in mind. "And she did OK in the studio when we were down there the other day..."

"Yeah," She looked across the counter at me. "You guys are really pretty good when Pizzazz isn't shrieking."

I shot her a dirty look. "Shut up, Pizzazz is a great singer and we've got the awards to prove it."

"All I meant was that song you and Stormer were working on was really good," She said absently.

"Whatever," I ignored her opinions on both Pizzazz's singing and Stormer's sneaky love song. "I want you to help me with something. Stormer's gotta sing that song. The one she trashed the studio over."

And... the Hologram turned and stared at me incredulously. "What? Why?"

"Trust me, it's important," I said. I had given this some serious thought after we'd played the other day, and the more I thought about it the more I thought it was a good idea. Stormer had been better, but she needed to get that song out of her head and quit carrying it around. The song and the feelings that went into it, if she didn't get them out they were going to eat her alive. It was just a matter of time. "I just want her to sing it, not play anything, though. Which is why I need your help. Well," I snorted. "I don't NEED your help," I informed her coldly.

She laughed at me and her eyebrow shot up again. "So why are you asking for it?"

My mouth pressed into a thin, hard line. My eyes narrowed. "OK, dammit. I need your help. I wanna do this right and..." I scowled. "I fuck everything up, alright? This is gonna be hard enough, I-"

Aja snorted at me and waved off my comment. "What do you mean you fuck everything up? With Stormer?" She chuckled at me. "Are you kidding? She's been so much better since you got here."

"I just want this to be easy. For her. Look-" I glared and sighed and shot an icy cold, pathetic, and oddly desperate look at my enemy. "She likes you. I just thought that... maybe..."

"Maybe it'd be easier with more people she's comfortable around?" Aja guessed, filling in the blanks where I had been stumbling around trying to spell it out.

"Yeah... basically. Plus, if we're playing the music all she's gotta do is sing, which'll keep her away from anything heavy that could be used like a baseball bat," I added, sincerely hoping to keep Stormer from freaking out and going all crazy Hulk-Smash on another studio. "You think it's dumb or what?"

"Nah. No, I think it's a great idea," Aja said. "You know Stormer a lot better, but I can't imagine it'd be good to, you know, bottle up the emotions that went along with writing that song. Maybe it would be good for her to sing it again- especially if we help. Maybe she'll feel like its OK? Or safe maybe? I dunno, is that like completely off the mark?"

"No, that's it exactly," I breathed a little sigh of relief. "Stormer does this thing where she just lets everything build up. Me, I hit stuff. She lets it rot."

"You hit stuff? I hadn't noticed," Aja teased, but smiled genuinely at me, maybe for the first time. "So what do we do?"

(***)

"Oh, hey Aja," Stormer smiled at the Hologram and glanced at me as we came down the stairs and entered the basement studio. "We were just gonna mess around for a while."

"Cool. Mind if I join? I'm all warmed up," She said, brandishing her guitar like a shield.

"Uh... well..." She glanced over at me again and then back at Aja. "Sure. I mean, I don't mind if Roxy doesn't mind."

I shot Aja a cautious look. "Nah, the Hologram can stick around." I said. Then, with a sigh I turned to Stormer. "Don't hate me, but I asked her to come down here."

Stormer laughed. "Uh, why would that make me hate you? I've been saying for weeks that you guys'd rock if you'd put all that stupid feud stuff-"

"Nah, I mean-" I sighed again. I took Stormer's hands in my own and looked at her, a serious expression coloring my face. "Look, I want you to sing that song."

"Which song?" Stormer asked. It was a reasonable question, she was prolific and constantly writing new music. None of us said anything and Stormer stared at me waiting for an answer. A moment later her big blue eyes opened wide and Stormer gasped.

"Oh! Oh no. Roxy, I can't," She pulled her hands away from me and looked at Aja for help.

Aja just shrugged at her and smiled helplessly.

"Stormer," I groaned. "Look-" I started, choked, and looked up at the ceiling. "This is important. You need to do this."

Stormer looked horrified and she shook her head. "I... I can't!"

"You can," I told her. "All you gotta do is sing it."

A queasy look passed over Stormer's pretty face and she turned two shades paler. "I... last time... I don't..."

"Last time you were alone," Aja stepped up and laid one hand on her shoulder. "This time you've got friends along to help you through it." She said, glancing over at me.

"Yeah. Friends," I nodded slowly at the Hologram. The idea of us as 'friends' was a weird one, but we weren't exactly enemies these days either. I glanced back at Stormer and took her hands again. "Trust me, Stormer. Please? I wouldn't ask you to do this if there wasn't a damned good reason. You KNOW how much I hate ballads!"

Aja's lips curled up in a little smirk at that comment, but I let it slide. "Besides," She told Stormer. "How many other times are you ever gonna get the two of US to agree on anything?" She motioned back and forth between myself and her. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to get the two best guitar players in the world working together on one song. All you have to do is sing it for us."

Stormer's eyes threatened to well up with tears and she shook her head. She looked at me, begging her for a way out with those big blue eyes of hers.

"Come on, Stormer. Trust me," I pleaded with her. "I won't let anything happen to you, I swear it."

We stared at each other for a long moment and finally Stormer sighed. She nodded and shook her head. "OK. But not a word from you about it being a bunch of sappy shit later on!" She cracked a smile at pointed at me accusingly.

"Cross my heart," I made a big 'X' over my chest and plugged in the bass guitar I was borrowing.

Stormer blanched. "We're doing this electric?"

"I am. Aja's playing acoustic," I informed her.

Plugged-in-to-an-amp acoustic so the sound wasn't drowned out by my bass, but yeah, acoustic.

"It's written for piano," Stormer told us.

"Trust me, it's better with guitars," I replied, and for a moment we sounded like we could have been talking about any other piece of music and not the song that had convinced Craig that his little sister was suicidal.

Stormer rolled her eyes and shrugged and stepped up to a mic. She blew in to it to make sure it was on. "You people are crazy, you know? I just wanna state for the record, this is not my fault. I'm not responsible for whatever happens. You made me do it. This is peer pressure."

"Fair enough," I told her quickly. "You trash this studio and you can tell Craig it was me, I don't care. I'm happy to take the blame."

Aja chuckled, "That's true friendship right there. And people think you Misfits are so cold! OK, on a count of three?"

Stormer nodded and I counted it off. "One and-a two and-a-"

Aja and I had put about twenty minutes into rehearsing the tune. Stormer had been in the shower, it was the only spare time we'd had without her around to hear what we were working on. I'd swiped the tattered remains of sheet music and we poured over it quickly, making little revisions here and there so it would work for a two piece guitar ensemble. We'd been half way through it when Aja'd stopped me and told me it was never gonna work with both of us playing electric guitars. The acoustic was her idea, brought back a little bit of the delicate sound that the piano had lent to the music. We ran through it twice and that was all the practice we got before we unleashed my little plan on Stormer. It was a testament to our inherent musical ability that we could make it sound so good with so little practice.

Stormer sang into the microphone, her eyes clamped shut. The lyrics came pouring out of her, delicate, dark, disturbed, her voice clear but wounded, timid and smokey all at once. Her head bowed and she clamped a hand down over her mouth. Stormer shook her head back and forth. Two verses in and she was crying.

Aja glanced at me as if to ask "Do we keep playing?"

I nodded my head at her. Aja bit her lower lip, a dark, sad look in her eyes. We kept playing.

A moment later Stormer went on, right hand clenched above her heart. She sang the song, pain ripping through each note like it was a living entity in the room, like you could reach out and touch it. I hadn't heard the lyrics before, only been given the gist of what the song was about. The lyrics, my god! If Stormer was just venting, if this was just putting her feelings on paper... it was no wonder she'd destroyed the piano. I suddenly didn't blame Craig at all for worrying she might do something crazy and drastic like hurt herself. The song was damn near a suicide note set to music, and it was scary and heartbreaking. I didn't know how she made it through a day with those kinds of feelings bottled up inside.

She gripped the mic with two hands and stamped it down into the cement, wailing through the final lyrics. And then Stormer threw the mic stand down. "Fuck... fuck!" She spun on her heels and buried her face in her hands. This time we stopped playing. Aja and I dropped our instruments and ran to her side.

"Stormer-" I touched her shoulder.

Stormer spun and fell into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Oh god, Stormer," Aja watched us helplessly for a moment and then threw caution to the wind. She'd promised to be there, as a friend. She put her arms around Stormer, too, sandwiching her between us in a protective little cocoon.

I flinched a little when I felt Aja's hand graze my arm, but I was glad she was there. I shot her a surprised, grateful little... well, it was almost a smile, but not quite. I was too concerned for it to be an all-out smile.

"I'm sorry," Stormer sobbed. Her fingers dug into the back of my shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

"Don't apologize," I snapped; it sounded more reflexive than hostile. And then, softer, "You never have to apologize to me." I said in a tone that was fierce and protective all at once. I'd said those words to her more than once over the last year.

Stormer shrugged us off suddenly and wiped her eyes. "I hate this."

"I know," I said.

Aja glanced back and forth between us, unsure of how or what or if she should do anything.

Stormer glanced up at us, big blue eyes wet and too tired of crying to look embarrassed. She blotted her eyes on the back of her sleeve and looked away. "Play."

"What?" I asked.

Aja glanced at me, an incredulous look on her face. "Are you sure? We don't have to if you don't want to."

"Play the song again," Stormer said, stepping up to the mic. She sniffled, tears were still streaming from her eyes. "I'm gonna sing this stinkin' thing until-" She choked and put a hand over her mouth. A moment later she glared, grabbed the mic. "Play it." She ordered.

Aja and I looked at each other.

"You heard her," I shrugged.

Several hours later we finally quit. My arm was throbbing, my head hurt, and I felt sick and sad and glad all at once. I felt like we'd just been through some kind of harrowing battle and won, and Stormer and Aja looked just about the same.

Stormer slumped onto the floor and sat there cross legged, exhausted, as Aja and I unplugged our instruments.

"You OK?" I asked her.

Stormer looked up at me and smiled. Not a happy smile, but a satisfied one. "Yeah," She said, voice weary.

I held out a hand to her and she grabbed it. I pulled her on to her feet. "Really?"

"Yes, Roxy, I'm fine," Stormer told me. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and squeezed me tightly once, quickly, before pulling away. Stormer smiled at me again, a little bit brighter. "Thank you." Stormer said. She glanced over at Aja and then hugged her, too. "I don't know about you two, but I'm exhausted and starving. Want something to eat?"

"We ordering out or are you cooking?" I asked.

"We have left over lasagna," Stormer said. "I can heat it up."

"Sure," I shrugged. I really didn't care what we ate, but I planned on having a shot of whiskey with it.

Stormer ducked up the stairs and Aja started to follow her when I caught her by the elbow. "Hey, wait a minute," I said. "Listen... Thank you," But I had a sour look on my face when I said it. "I mean it."

Aja grinned at me. "Hell really has frozen over. You're welcome," She told me. We stared at each other for a moment. "That was intense," She said, finally, breaking the silence. "But I think you were right. Stormer looks better for all of that."

I sighed and nodded. "You think so?"

"Yeah, definitely."

A small smile crossed my face, but I changed gears on her suddenly. "Look- you don't need to go blabbing about this to Craig, alright? We did this for her, not for him, and if she wants to tell him that's her business. Everything that just happened here stays in here. Got it?"

"What? But he'll want to know, he'll be-"

"Pissed off if he finds out we had her singing that song all damned day," I told her. "So just keep your mouth shut. Stormer can tell him if she feels like it. Either way, as long as she feels better getting that off her chest, who cares if she tells him or not?"

"I... I guess it doesn't matter," She said, her head shaking back and forth slowly like she really didn't agree.

"It matters that she felt safe enough to sing that. Get it? Telling people about it behind her back, you take that away."

"OK," She nodded finally and sighed. "I get it." She smiled at me a little. "You know, I underestimated you. You're not half the monster you used to be. You really care about Stormer."

I blushed the palest of pinks and frowned. "Well don't get all sappy about it. She's my friend is all. You'd do the same for Kimber or Shana." I told her and then ducked up the stairs before she could come up with a reply.

I was exhausted. My shoulders ached. We'd played through the song probably two dozen times and each time it got easier and easier. Stormer had gone from weepy, uncontrollable sobbing, to flat out rage, and come out calm and looking almost tranquil by the end of it. Exhausting work, that was. Emotionally draining, and not just for her. It took a lot out of me just being there, watching her work through the lyrics and the crushing pain they'd been born out of.

It made me happy to be able to help her do that. If any part of that made her feel better, it was worth every minute.

(***)

"Hey girls," Aja padded out to the back patio where we were sitting by the pool trying to soak up the pathetic imitation of sunlight that the British countryside had to offer. We were stretched out on a couple of chaise lounges in as few clothes as we could comfortably manage. It was only about seventy three degrees out, practically chilly compared to LA this time of year. "The Blue Bloods are coming over tonight. Its Joey's birthday, we were gonna have a barbecue pool party thing for him," Aja told us, sounding bright and chipper.

"Whoop-dee-doo," I twirled a finger in the air and frowned at her. I didn't bother opening my eyes behind my black out sunglasses.

"That sounds nice," Stormer commented. "It's a perfect day for it."

"Yeah, couldn't ask for a better day," Aja said cheerfully of the weather. "Craig's gonna run to the store, pick up some stuff for the grill. He wanted to know if you were going to stick around or not." She looked at me when she said it.

That got me to open my eyes. "Why? He doesn't want me here with all his dopey friends around or something?" I asked, a bit annoyed at the notion.

"I think he wanted to know how much chow to pick up at the store," Aja replied with an amused smirk. "Considering you eat like a starving horse and all."

"Oh ha ha," I rolled my eyes.

"We didn't have any plans for this afternoon, right Roxy?" Stormer asked, glancing my way.

I shrugged. "Not really," Not like we had plans ANY afternoon. Since I'd got here Craig had hardly let Stormer leave the property- 'for her own good', you know, which really meant until he was one hundred and ten percent sure she wasn't gonna drown herself in the oven or something stupid like that.

"Ok, cool. You both eat seafood, right?"

"As long as it's not shark!" Both Stormer and I said at the same time. We cracked up laughing.

"Yeah, anything but shark and we're good."

Aja laughed but shook her head. "No sweat, then, we were thinking salmon and maybe whip up some skewered shrimp, and of course hamburgers, too."

"Sounds good. Need any help?" Stormer offered, setting down the most recent issue of Cool Trash that she'd been flipping through.

"Well... Craig's gonna leave here in a minute. I was just going to straighten up the patio and put together a salad or something..."

We ended up on the patio filling torches and making sure not a floaty pool toy was out of place.

"Bet ya anything Craig wanted me out of here for this party," I said offhandedly, tossing a bright yellow and hot pink inner tube into the pool. It was almost warm enough to dive in, and I was half tempted. I loved to swim.

"Why? Were you planning on sabotaging it or something?" Stormer asked as she swept off the patio.

"Please, like I even care enough to bother," I said, meaning it. That's exactly what I thought Craig probably thought, though. Not that he didn't have good cause to suspect it. Hell, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't half considering it just for the fun of it. "Besides, Aja's a good cook." I shrugged like that explained it all.

"Then don't even worry about it," Stormer said.

Hours later the party was in full swing. The Blue Bloods and their girl friends had all shown up, and the house was full of noise for a change. They'd all congregated out on the back patio with a keg of beer. Half the guys were singing along- badly- to every song that came over the radio. The other half were in the pool. Pale, pasty, British guys in brightly colored trunks and nothing else, and their girlfriends were an equal shade of lily white. Swear to god, they made Jetta look practically tan.

The Blue Bloods were OK, for being a preppy frat band. I'd talked guitars with a couple of them and Aja, and they knew their stuff. They also liked really stupid jokes about drummers, which amused me to no end and annoyed Craig.

"How do you get a drummer off your porch," he asked. Randall, I think his name was. "You pay him for the pizza!" He cracked up at his own joke. "Here's another- Why did the drummer stare at the frozen can of juice? Because it said 'Concentrate'!

Every one of his jokes were terrible, but three beers and a couple shots of whiskey in and I was laughing along with him.

It was no Misfit party, but it was the most fun we'd had in weeks, and... Good god, that thought made me homesick for LA.

"Hey, so this is where you ran off to," I said, rounding a corner of the house and finally finding Stormer. She was sitting on the edge of an empty brick flower box by the back fence smoking a cigarette. She'd disappeared after the ritual butchering of the 'Happy Birthday' song', which I did NOT participate in singing, though I did stick around for the chocolate cake. The Blue Bloods were still out by the pool getting tanked up, which was pretty funny considering the way that Craig had been riding my ass about drinking too much ever since I'd gotten here. "What's up?"

"Nothing," She said, exhaling a stream of wispy smoke. She looked up, blue eyes looking a little tired. "Did Craig send you to find me?"

"Yeah, right," I crossed my arms and swirled the ice cubes around in my tumbler. "You really think Craig would ask me to do anything?"

She smiled, laughing softly. "Not if he could help it,"

"Well there ya go," I told her. "Needed a break from the 'festivities'?" I asked.

Stormer rolled her eyes and shook her head and took another drag off her cigarette. So talkative.

"Big Brother will flip if he catches you out here smoking. You'll get grounded for sure,"

"Ya think?" She snickered, glancing sideways at me.

"Oh yeah, no doubt. Detention for a week, grounded for life, and no more dessert even if you wash your hands and say your prayers," I went on, taking a seat next to her.

"You know you're terrible, right?"

"No, but if you hum a few bars I can fake it."

"Oh, ouch! Bad!" She laughed and flicked ash on the ground.

"Yeah, but it made you laugh," I smiled at her and snatched the cigarette from between her fingers and sucked up the rest of the smoke. "Your brother was so on pins and needles when they brought the cake out. I think he thought I was gonna start a food fight."

Stormer laughed and shook her head. "Sorry, I told him what happened at my last birthday,"

"As if you minded," I smirked. Misfits- Stormer included- loved a good food fight. "So what's up? Blue Bloods annoying the hell out of you?" Because something was wrong. She only smoked when she was upset or stressed out.

''Nah, they're OK," She said after a moment. "I just needed a break."

"From what, all the shiny happy good guys out there?"

Stormer laughed again. "Maybe." She fished another cigarette from the pack she had sitting next to her, lit it up. "It probably sounds funny, but I feel like such an outsider around them. Crazy, huh? I mean, that's my brother out there. I've met the Blue Bloods a couple times before and always really liked them..." She inhaled, shrugged. "I don't know, it's probably crazy."

"Nah, not really. Like, seriously, what do you have in common with those guys in there?" I asked. "And breathing air does not count!"

She looked at me funny and smiled. "Uh, we all walk on two feet?"

"OK, not counting that, either, smart ass," I bumped her with my shoulder

She tilted her head back and forth like she was thinking it over. "We're all musicians, mm..." She looked up at the blue sky, ran a hand through her even bluer hair. "I don't know, that's all I can think of. Oh, we all like Craig, that's something else."

"Speak for yourself, cream-puff," I grimaced. "But think about it: they're all in the same camp as Jem and the Holograms. They're 'the good guys', we're 'the bad guys'. Even when we're not being bad, we're still 'the bad guys'," I said, having fun making little quotation marks in the air with my fingers. "And all their girlfriends hate us, did you notice that?" I cackled wickedly. "Like, right, we are so gonna run off with their dumb-ass boyfriends or something. Please!"

Stormer grinned. "Hey, you never know. Couple of hot single girls like us? Wouldn't be the first time a Misfit ran off with someone else's man."

"Yeah, and if you changed your name to Pizzazz then maybe they'd have a reason to worry!" I said and we both laughed. Stormer coughed and put a hand to her stomach.

"That's not very nice," Stormer reprimanded me lightly. "You're totally leaving Jetta out."

I laughed. "You're right. She's just as bad." She dropped her eyes to perfectly manicured green grass under our feet. We sat there for a few minutes quietly, crickets or whatever chirping. Dead, uncomfortable silence. Stormer lit up another cigarette and I sipped my drink, wishing I'd refilled it before I'd wandered out here.

"You OK?" I asked her after a while.

"Yeah," She said even though she shook her head 'no'. "I dunno. Not really."

"What is it?" I asked. As much as I hate all this emotional sharing B.S. I'd still rather be out here talking with her than with any of the Blue Bloods, no matter how un-scummy they might be.

"They're all like..." Stormer laughed, short and shrill. "I mean... OK, I don't know, I feel like..." She turned away like she was struggling with her thoughts, looked down at her hot pink sandals. "It's like I'm pretending all the time."

"Uh... huh?"

"Cuz they're all happy and... And I'm about as far from happy as you can get." Stormer shook her head and stared down at her feet for a second. "They all know what happened, the way they were looking at me... I hate it. I feel like a freak and they all look at me like they're sorry for me." She had this pained look on her face. "I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I'm not a charity case."

"That's for damn sure," I said quietly. That was a hard one. If feeling sorry for Stormer was a crime I was just as guilty as any of those Blue Blood schmucks out there. "It's hard though, cuz you're like the last person in the world who'd ever deserve-"

"It's OK, Roxy. You're different." She smiled sympathetically at me, knowing exactly what I was aiming at. Trying to cover my ass on something like this was so not my strong suit. "You never look at me, like... like you fucking pity me. They do." Her smile was forgiving and so sad. "I don't fit in with them and I feel like I'm supposed to. Craig wants me to."

I looked at her funny. "Well who gives a damn what Craig wants?"

"I do," She shrugged, smiled lightly.

Oh brother, some times I was so glad I didn't have any stupid family ties weighing me down. "OK, fine. Whatever. So you're brother wants to you to get along with his band. So what?"

"I don't know. It feels like a big deal, you know?" She sighed.

"No, I don't know," I admitted. "I mean, how often are you gonna see these guys? And besides, if you're supposed to get along with his band, shouldn't he make an effort to get along with yours? He HATES the Misfits."

Stormer coughed to disguise a laugh, "I think him flying back to London that one time, you know, after he'd wrapped a lamp around Eric's head, WAS his idea of 'getting along with the Misfits',"

"Oh yeah, you might be right," I thought back to the event and chuckled again. "God that was funny. Eric so had it coming to him."

"That was an awful couple of weeks," She told me in a quiet, tired voice.

"What? Why? Jetta joining the band was pretty horrible, but I thought you liked her," I teased.

Stormer kind of laughed a little and looked down. "I DO like Jetta. I don't know... Remember that first couple weeks she was with the band? Pizzazz and Eric were hell bent on getting Jem's identity from the finalists in the Hologram's hunt for a new drummer?"

"Yeah," It was all I'd heard about for like a month, how could I forget?

"Remember what happened when they found out that one of the finalists was Craig? It was all suddenly my responsibility to get him to tell us who Jem was and Jetta was dropping all these hints about me getting tossed out of the band if I didn't do it and Craig... well Craig thought I was insane for asking him to do something like that. It was like being the rope in a tug of war, it really sucked."

"Hm," I said, thinking about that. "Well it all worked out in the end, even if Jetta did stick around,"

Stormer laughed. "You are awful.

"Old news, sweetie," I smirked. I was pretty sure 'awful' was in my job description.

"I love you," She said. I turned and looked at her, surprised, and she blushed and looked down at her toes.

"Ugh... Stormer..." I said, instantly uncomfortable.

"Sorry," She sighed, squirming a little. "No, I take that back, I'm not sorry." She looked up at me finally but I turned away. "I'm sick of pretending all the time. I love you and I... I think you care about me," She gnawed her lower lip. "I just want that to be OK."

Well its not, I wanted to say. It's not OK. It's never gonna be OK because I can't handle her looking at me like that, like she... like she wants something from me all the time. Something I just don't have to give. I glanced up at her, met her pretty blue eyes and frowned. She looked nervous and hopeful all at once and I couldn't stand it.

"I need another drink," I said, hopping off the edge of the flower box.

"Roxy," Stormer grabbed my hand, tugged lightly for me to sit down. "Don't run away again. Please?"

"Well what the hell do you expect-" I said sharply but stopped myself before I got really nasty with her. It wasn't so much that I was mad as it was defensive habit. She looked up at me and I rolled my eyes. She squeezed my hand and my vision went blurry. "Fine..." Reluctantly I sat down next to her again.

"Just tell me I'm not wrong. You care about me, right?"

I actually laughed. "Well duh. What, you think I've been putting up with your brother cuz it's just so much fun?"

"I'm not talking about that," She said, gulping. "Well, OK, that's part of it, sure, but... Like, you know what I mean. The last few months have been really... nice. Like aside from all the crying and me being a freak and stuff,"

"You're not a freak," I commented dryly. I hated when she talked like that about herself. She pushed and pushed herself so hard to get better and get 'back to normal' after she got out of the hospital, but things like that don't happen over night. So, OK, I wasn't thrilled that I was the one and only one who'd basically gotten the privilege of babysitting her through it, but it didn't make her a freak. Not when I knew how hard she'd been trying.

"I feel like one. Everything that happened... Everything's changed and I hate it. Except for all the time I've got to spend with you this whole year has really sucked." Stormer said, looking sad.

"I bet," I folded my arms, putting some distance between us.

"Worst on record," She gave a sorrowful half smile. "But I... I mean, you're the only thing that's kept me going. I love having you stay at my house. I love being with you. I don't want that to end."

I think that was intended all of that as a compliment but it made my blood run cold as ice. I couldn't look at her.

Stormer laughed. "See, that's what I'm talking about. You react like that and I feel like a fucking freak," She sniffled and snuffed out her cigarette. "If I'm wrong... if you don't... you know... Just tell me and I'll never mention it again. I just wanna know where I stand."

I took a deep breath and exhaled it, long and slow. Oh god, my head was spinning. It wasn't even an unreasonable request on her part, that was the rotten thing about it. I couldn't even be mad at her for asking it. I could just tell her no and all of this bullshit would be over, simple as that.

"I don't know," I blurted out before I had a chance to lie my ass off. "Ugh... it's not as easy as that," I grumbled. "I'm just..." I frowned, turned and looked at her. "Look, I'm no good at this shit. I don't know what you want from me, but if you think I'm about to-"

"I don't expect anything from you,"

I laughed. "Except that you do or we wouldn't be sitting her talking about it."

Stormer's eyes hit the ground. She was staring at the grass beneath her feet again, shot down by my crap attitude.

This was going no where. God, why the hell did she have to be such a mushy sappy girly girl some times? Weren't things OK the way they were? Why the hell did we have to sit here and pick it to pieces? Wasn't it obvious that I cared about her? Weren't there like a thousand things that made that apparent? Why the hell did she need me to sit there and list them off?

She looked so small and lost and I couldn't stand it. I put my hand over hers and held it there. She looked up and smiled, kind of this sweet broken little expression, and I couldn't deny that I cared about her. I might complain about it all the time, but the truth was that I did love living at her place with her. Jetta had taunted me endlessly about playing house with Stormer, but we'd never been playing at all. I had just never been able to admit it even thought it was right there in front of my face.

I love her, I thought. The words felt awkward and I was sure I was insane, but there ya go. All I know was that looking at her there like that made my heart ache. It was nuts, I know this, but that's how it felt; like something inside my chest was cracking open and spilling over. If the sensation had been a little higher I could have said it was my brain spilling out through my ears and at least that would have made sense. But no, this would have to be my long-unused heart, jumping up and shouting at me that it was still there and kicking. And I loved her. So what if I wasn't exactly sure what the words meant, I felt it. If this wasn't love then there was no such thing. I loved her... Didn't I? Wasn't that why I'd missed her terribly when she'd left LA? Wasn't that why I'd flown all the way out to the London at the drop of a hat? Wasn't that why I'd been putting up with being under house arrest with her goon of a brother and a Hologram for weeks now?

The problem with all of that is that love is a lie and everyone leaves me. My mom left me in foster care, my dad left before I was born, grand parents had me for a week and then left me with a social worker, anyone who ever meant a thing to me has left. None of the foster families I stayed with ever wanted to keep me once they realized what a screw up I was. And what do they all have in common? Me! Once is a fluke, twice a coincidence, but it happens enough and the root cause becomes obvious. I fuck things up, people cut their losses and run. Who can blame them? I'm no catch. I can't get a license, I never made it past seventh grade, I have a criminal record the length of my arm, I have a terrible temper and I drink too much, I swear too much, I party too much, I break shit when I'm mad, and I-

And I loved Stormer and the thought of losing her tore me up inside. I loved her and was terrified I'd mess things up with her if I admitted it to her. If we took the next step, if we were more than friends, she would leave me, too.

This is why I don't do relationships and almost never see anybody twice, never want to know the names of any of the girls I go home with. Less I know, the less chance I'll ever give a damn about them, and if I don't care, I won't care when they leave. Nothing to fuck up, no chance of getting hurt. But Stormer?

Stormer I'd die for and I'd die without her.

"I'm scared if I say it I'll lose you," The words felt like hot lead in my throat and I couldn't look at her. A Misfit, afraid of something? It was too pathetic! "You'll leave."

"I would never-"

"Everyone does," I glanced at her, feeling wide eyed and panicky though it was a flat statement of hard truth. Shame burned my cheeks bright pink. "Everyone I ever cared about has left me."

"I'm not everyone," Stormer's big blue eyes locked on my face. "I love you, Roxy. I-" She gnawed her lower lip and shook her head, squeezed my hand. "You're everything I ever wanted." Choked up, tears in her eyes, she held a hand to her chest like her heart might explode through her ribs at any moment.

My brain had long since shut down. It's the only way that I can explain why I kissed her. It's so not something I ever thought I'd do. Me and Stormer? Oh no, if you'd asked me five years ago which Misfit I'd most want to end up with, she wouldn't have even made the list. But there I was... Just leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers, feeling like the world might end if I didn't.

Stormer laid her hands on my cheeks and kissed me back. She tasted like tears, and I never wanted to let her go.

"I love you," I told her when we pulled apart, unable to look her in the eyes and holding my breath. I waited for her to laugh in my face and tell me this was all some fucked up prank.

Stormer bit her lower lip like she was trying not to let her smile escape or get out of control. She put her arms around my shoulders and held me tightly. "I love you, too."

She wasn't playing, or kidding around, or trying to make me look stupid. I don't know why I'd ever worried she might be. Oh wait, it was because any time I'd ever heard those words before it was a lie. Because nobody could really love a misfit... except maybe another Misfit? I sank into her arms and exhaled, finally able to let go of the breath I had a strangle hold on.

"I need a really big drink," I squeaked in her ear.

Stormer giggled. "Oh god, me too!" She pulled away, smiled at me, and touched the side of my face. Stormer kissed me once, quickly, and smiled at me again, sweetly, kinda excited. "And then I'm gonna start a food fight."

I laughed, "Cuz what's a birthday party without flying cake?"

"Exactly!"

"We're kinda outnumbered," Like six to one, I said, thinking about it.

"I know, it hardly seems like a fair fight. They need at least ten more people on their side." Stormer giggled all giddy and sweetly right before she kissed me again, and we missed the rest of the party.