"You looked amazing tonight," Jace said.
After being forced to endure three hours of great food but crappy conversation during dinner, we'd finally left the restaurant and were walking towards our cars.
"Thanks, you do too-"
"Skylar! Jason!" Our parents shouted, "It's time to go!"
"Alright, see you tomorrow morning for tutoring then."
"Okay, bye." I said, giving him a hug.
When we stepped apart, he leaned back in and kissed me on the cheek. "Bye."
Getting into my car, my Mom raised an eyebrow and said oh-so-subtly "Jace is a lovely boy you know, very good-looking."
"Uh-huh, I'll keep that in mind." I said, not really listening to her.
As soon as we arrived at our house, illuminated by the porch lights, I jumped out. Noticing how both my parents stayed in the car, I asked "Are you two just going to sleep in there?"
"Actually honey, we're going to London tonight."
"What?!" I exclaimed. They were going right now? Talk about short notice.
"Didn't you tell her, dear?" My Dad asked, turning towards my Mom.
"Of course I did!" My Mom said, indignantly. No, she really hadn't.
"What about luggage?"
"We had it sent over yesterday." My Dad explained."We'll be back in a couple days."
"There's lasagne in the fridge and a hundred dollars in my desk - the third draw on the left." My Mom added.
Right, because money and a cold platter of food could make up for it.
"Okay, have fun!" I shouted sarcastically, then muttered under my breath "Yeah, whoop-de-fucking-doo." Then turned towards the house and went to my room without another look to my parents. Whatever, screw them for ditching me - again - with absolutely no warning.
Moments later I heard the engine roar, and slowly fade away.
Even a couple hours later, I was still so pissed at them that sleep wasn't an option. So I wasn't disturbed or woken when the doorbell rang.
I wasn't an idiot; I knew whoever was at my house at this time of night probably wasn't god news. But the house had a state of the art security system - one press of a button and a laser grid (yes, a bit dramatic and James Bondish - but my Mom went through a period of paranoia not long ago) would activate on the grounds surrounding the house. If an intruder was detected, an alarm - so loud everyone within a radius of a couple miles - would go off, as well as alert the police.
How my Dad pulled off the latter precaution, I had no idea. But he had worked for some very powerful clients in his decades of being a lawyer, and he would pull as many strings as he had to for my Mom. Guess he loved her, which is more than a lot of kids could say about their parents.
But all my worries were pointless. One look out of my window, facing outwards towards the front of the house, and I saw a black motorcycle. And a tousled, black-clad figure with dark hair and grey-blue eyes.
I opened the door cautiously, "Gale, what are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry, I just... I just don't know where else to go," he said. "My parents, they - they..."
Seeing him struggle for words, I said gently "Come in." When we were inside, I led him into my bedroom. It spanned two floors; a private living area with a flat screen TV and couch on the lower (with a modern staircase winding up), my actual bed and bookshelves on the upper and a luxury en-suite leading off from it.
