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"Are you going to wear that to the gig?" Heath asked me the second I entered the car, a few blocks away from Pierson's house. It was a good distance away that he couldn't be able to see me step into Heath's bucket of a vehicle. "I think my grandmother has the same exact knitted sweater and angle-length khaki skirt as you."

I slapped his arm. "It's my step-mom's. It isn't even that bad."

"Yeah, I'm sure if you we were in a convent, it would still be in style."

"Shut-up and start driving. We need to head over to Ronnie's house." I huffed. "You think you're funny, huh?"

"Hysterical." He winked and turned the car on, roaring it to life. "How did it go over at Pierson's? You were there a bit longer than I thought you would be. Everything synced right though. I've got full access to his laptop. What took so long?"

"Nothing happened at all," I spluttered. "I took as long as I was supposed to."

A part of me wanted to share every detail that happened inside that house, but there was another part-a larger portion of myself-telling me that it would be a bad idea. I knew Dakota didn't like Pierson. Even though Pierson's lips tapped mine for a moment, I didn't want to tell anyone...then again, if I didn't tell Dakota, and he found out some other way, I knew that it would backfire even more, especially with how things ended with him and Carmen. I needed to be honest.

To help distract myself, I gave Heath the direction to Ronnie's apartment complex. It was in a rough portion of town, a bit farther away from Crescent Heights and near South Emerson. From what she told me, no one really knew where she lived. She used to live in Crescent Heights until her mother passed away, making their family have to downgrade in the way they lived. Her mom was the breadwinner and her father took care of the kids and house.

On weekends, it was hard to get her free because she was usually over at the supermarket in Boulder Valley, doing a morning shift. She loved that job as much as she loved Xander. Recently, I found her trying to get herself busy most weekends ever since Finn and her got on a break last Monday. She hadn't specified why they were on a break, but she was taking it pretty well from what I've seen. I had gone over to her house on the first day she had taken this "break" from Finn. Ronnie wasn't the kind of person who would tremble in front of people. She hid away with her emotions, burring them deep inside. I knew she loved Finn though. I hoped they could work out whatever problem they had.

After Ronnie got into the car, we made our long drive down to Downtown Los Angeles. I hadn't gone to the city since I came to Crescent Heights. I was quite excited, as lame as that might sound.

Heath's car drove through rough terrain, with roads paved between steep, dusty mountains and curvy hills. A Metro train disappeared in and out of the rocky slopes and above treetops, I saw the people bustling inside with emotionless, blank expressions on their faces-muting out their surrounds. Ronnie and Heath were unaffected by the life blossoming outside their windows, but I was surely entertained. I didn't know where it came from, but I loved people watching. Especially if I could get away with it.

Once we got closer to the city, the hills were replaced by tall, sky scrapers and cement sidewalks, stretched out for miles without a spot of grass in sight. I saw the faint outline of the mountains in the far back, hidden behind the obstructive buildings.

Nearing the front of the venue, I brought my bag up to my lap. I was planning on changing into the outfit I had in my bag. After spending years being teased for what I wore, I was glad that I could wear what I wanted without money being a limitation anymore. That being said, it didn't mean I wore better clothing to show it off like Lola Wilson did back in Junior High. It was more so for myself.

I may have been still angry with my mother for not telling me about the money my father and grandmother were trying to send her, but I decided that living in such a horrible condition humbled me in a sense. Having witness what I had at a very young age, it made me watch the world differently than others did. I wasn't necessarily saying I had wiser eyes, but I definitely had more caution than most. I knew about the wickedness that lurked in all of our hearts. I wasn't as naïve as Maven would like to believe.

We used the back entrance to skip the long line outside. One of the band members from Boulder Valley High let us in. Heath and Ronnie went into the building after me, walking towards the backroom whereas I was heading toward the restrooms. I already had the ticket and Dakota told me that they would have my name if I needed to go into the backroom for any reason before or after the show.

I didn't know how Heath managed to book them here, but that guy seriously had some tricks up his sleeve. The seating area had at least three different levels, facing the direction of the oval shaped stage. Dakota's band was in the backroom, from what Heath told me, waiting for the show to start. There were only a few people already seat or walking around the venue.

I had a hard time finding the restroom, but when I did I quickly went into a stall and swapped outfits. After I changed into my red halter top and distressed high waist shorts, I retrieved my makeup pouch and exited the dingy stall. Once my makeup was applied, I gave myself one finale look in the scratched-up restroom mirrors.

"Perfect," I said, smiling to myself and flattening my hands over my top.

"Are you trying to go for sleazy or is that all unintentionally?" a voice asked. I turned and saw someone exit the stall, walking to the sink. I wish I could've said it was just a rude stranger. But unfortunately, I knew this person.

Carmen turned the sink on and ran her fingers through the water. "I think that top would look better if you lost a little bit of belly fat. By a little bit, I mean a lot. You look three months pregnant in that top."

Gripping the sides of the white sink, I took in a set of breaths.

I will not let her piss me off. I will not let her win.

I counted up to fifteen. My lucky number. I counted down from fifteen.

"Why are you here?" I asked in a smooth voice. "There's a sign out front that says no animals inside. Did you sneak inside of someone's bag like the bitch you are?"

"Aw, I was almost offended by that comment. Nice try." She squinted at me through the mirror. "Why are you here? Ah, right. You're here because you're dating Dakota...oh wait, I mean not dating. I forgot, he's not involved with anyone."

"Seriously, why the hell are you here? Are you one of his groupies?"

"Oh, please. If I wanted Dakota back, I could take him away from you. Just. Like. That." She snapped her fingers. "I'm letting you have him. See that as my gift to you." She said with a smirk. "Isn't it sad?"

"What?"

"That an outcast like him won't even admit being with you. That's depressing. I doubt he's ever even said you were his girlfriend in private." She went for the paper towel dispenser. "When we were together, he always called me his girlfriend in front of friends and family and said 'I love you'" I felt my eye twitch. "Aww, has he not even said that to you? Poor thing."

"Save your pity for someone else," I grumbled. She took a step at me. "Take another step and see what'll happens. My bag isn't just full of clothing."

She rolled her eyes. "In all seriousness though, maybe it's a good thing that he's not really with you. Aren't your families supposed to hate each other anyway? You're a certified idiot for even trying with him. If I were you, I'd constantly be worried."

"News flash, I'm not you--thankfully," I supplied.

She groaned. "Whatever. I think I've done enough charity work for today by talking to you, Canada."

She crumbled her paper towel and tossed it into my sink. The restroom doors swung open and close, leading her outside. My hands were still clinging to the edges of the sink, waiting for my anger to simmer down. I counted down and counted up again. It took a while, but I finally calmed down after my conversation with the Devil of Crescent High.

. . . . . . . . . .

I didn't have much trouble getting to the backroom where everyone else had disappeared off to. Once I told them who I was, security pointed me to the backroom and I sincerely thanked them.

I pushed the door open and was greeted with an array of hellos from the front of the room to the end.

"You're back! Took you long enough," Ronnie teased when I got to where they were sitting. We were in a massive room without any windows. Mirrors covered the walls, making the place look even larger than how it really was. "I thought you were lost for a second there. They were trying to convince me to go and look for you through the crowd as if you were Waldo."

"Sorry about that." I lugged the bag over my shoulder. "It took me a while to find the restroom. I managed though. Where's Dakota?" I didn't feel confident enough to use his nickname around others.

Heath, Paul, and two of the other band members were here, but I hadn't seen Dakota when I walked through the long room. There was a different group near the door and a third band toward the couch in the corner.

"He's talking to someone in the band Bedhead." Heath answered, motioning to the group next to the couch. He got to his feet and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hey, Dakota! Come over here."

Dakota emerged from the group and came to a holt when our eyes locked, racking his gaze down my outfit. "What are you wearing?"

"Clothes. Like everyone else in this room," I snapped, looking at my body. "What's wrong with what I have on?"

He walked up to me, still scanning me with narrowed eyes. "You're not wearing that out there."

"It's a lot better than what she had on in the car," Heath said. "Trust me, Dakota. You should be glad she changed. The getup she had on before looked like she just came back from knocking door to door, selling Bibles."

"I didn't ask for you to join in." Dakota spat and faced me again. "Honestly. What were you thinking? There's no way I can pay attention on stage with you wearing that. I'd be too busy checking to see if anyone's making a move on you. Did you plan on having me jump off the stage and start a fight?"

"Okay. Hold on. If you do start a fight, it will not be my fault."

"Yes--yes, it will." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're going to have to change or wear my jacket over that."

I was laughing-genuinely laughing in his face. "Who do you think you are to say something like that to me? I don't even listen to my parents when they tell me to change out of an outfit, so what in your mind makes you think I'll listen to you?"

"Oooh. She told you," Heath chimed in and snapped his fingers in a Z formation. "She don't need no man, bossing her around."

I turned to Ronnie and she gave me a high five, chuckling as well.

Dakota was sighing into his hand. He knew there was no way he'd win this argument. "Can we talk about this in the hallway? In private?"

"Sure, but it won't change my mind." I snickered and followed after him. After the door closed behind us, I didn't waste either of our time. "I don't know why you even care, Kota. Last time I checked, you're not even my boyfriend."

"Stop slapping that in my face." He huffed. "It's just a word. A word overused. What effect does a word have over what I've done or said?"

"Oh, stop trying to throw the 'it's simply a title' bullshit. You said it with Carmen when you were together. I bet you said it all the time."

"How would you know...." He trailed off and then his head snapped around the hallway. "Is she here?"

"Yes, she is here." I retorted. "Why do you care? Do you wanna meet up with her and have a reunion or something? Rekindle that love of yours? Tell her you love her for the millionth time?"

"Wait, what the hell are you even blabbering about?" He shook his head. "Is that what she told you? She's pulling lies out of her ass if that came out of her mouth. I never said I loved her. Half of the reason to why we never worked out is because she wanted to push our relationship further and further, when I wasn't ready for it."

My shoulders relaxed. "You never said it to her?"

"Besides my family, there hasn't been any person I've said 'I love you' to. And I rarely used the boyfriend/girlfriend title with her, only time I did use it was when she practically forced it out of me in front of others." He revealed. "Look, Silvia. Whatever she told you, can you forget it and listen to what I'm trying to say? I thought we at least knew each other well enough to not let an ex get between us. All she wants is us to separate."

"There's a us?"

He tucked his finger under my chin. "There's always been an us."

I felt my breathing go heavy when he let that space between us decrease. His lips found mine, locking underneath the blinking light over our heads. It was the first time we'd kissed all week. After ignoring each other in the hallways for days, it felt good to have his mouth on mine and his hands venturing up and down the side of my body.

"That was cheesy," I said after I broke the kiss, but moved in again to peck his cheek.

He wrinkled his nose. "Bad kind of cheesy?"

"There's only one kind."

"I'll say some things manly to redeem myself then. Wrestling. Sports. Monster trucks. Hunting. Beer."

I snorted. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone you said that. Your manhood will stay intact."

. . .

Dakota gave Ronnie and I some great seats for the show, unsurprisingly. We screamed our lungs out when they introduced Dakota's band. There were a few raised brows at the sound of his band name. After the show, I made a mental note to try and convince him to change that silly band name.

Dakota told the crowd who he was and the title of their original song. I wasn't a punk music fan, but I saw the appeal. There was a good hook in their song and that was all I paid attention to. Ronnie and I made fools of ourselves, dancing to the music and jumping around without a care in the world. We pretend to sing along to a song we didn't know.

Once they were done with second song, Dakota moved his electric guitar away and pressed his lips back on to the mic. "Okay, so we weren't planning on preforming these two covers today, but last minute I decided that we should." He swung the guitar back around, and as if he knew where I was all along, his eyes zeroed in on me and he strummed on the chords. "This is for my doll. I hope the words in these songs better explain things than I ever have. I hope it fits our every changing hurricane of a love affair."

Ronnie slapped my arm repeatedly. "Ohmigod. I think he's talking about you! He calls you doll? Why didn't you tell me this!? I'm offended that I wasn't informed about this little nickname thing you two have for each other. Can you believe he said that out loud in front of at least four hundred people?"

I hushed at her, telling her to shut up and that I wanted to listen to the song. A big, goof smile crept on to my face, despite my lame attempts of fighting it off. The beat of the song was a bit more upbeat that their original song. It was more toward pop if anything. The lyrics snagged at my heart, nicely describing Dakota in every way. I couldn't have agreed more with the second cover.

It was perfect.

We definitely were a lovely mess.

As much as I hated to admit it, that was the day I fell in love with Dakota Wesley Ridgewood. I could see myself falling in love with this confusing boy a hundred times throughout many decades to come, having him learn new ways to make me laugh or piss me off. The scary part, though, was that I couldn't see him ever loving me back as much as I wanted him to.

I would eventually become that woman who gave all of her love to a man who didn't give a damn. The girl who poured her soul out to a boy that never even cared. The one who never walked away from what was hurting her because she thought "it would get better" and that the boy--sooner or later--would open his eyes, finally realizing how important the girl was to him all along. I would be that girl, and I already knew it as if my fate was etched in front of me.

A tear trailed down my cheek, collecting on to my halter top.

"Aw, don't cry." Ronnie moved in beside me and pulled me into a hug. "I'd get emotional, too."

She thought I was crying, but for an entirely different reason.

______________

[These are the two songs Dakota sings for Silvia on the stage. I feel like this song fits their relationship pretty well. Especially the second song where he says: And darling I may not be everything you want. But I can give you all I have. I'm not the perfect man.....Cause you are broken and I am such a wreck. I think we'd make a lovely mess.]

https://youtu.be/nBAExYOYA3k

https://youtu.be/pdag4mdVVeM

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