Mia Evian has to piece together the mystery of Zack Maddox, the bad boy whose life she saved, while simultaneously keeping her own crumbling life together before Zack ends up in trouble again - or worse yet, dead.
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I can't formulate my thoughts into words, so I just stare as Preston stumbles into a standing position. As he moves towards me, the porch light flashes on, and is reflected on the wet concrete. His previously limp demeanour has been replaced by a bolder one, and there's an uneven smile on his face. He's wearing a plain long-sleeved top with a graphic tee pulled over it, coupled with a ripped pair of jeans, and he's shivering. The jacket he had earlier is nowhere to be seen. His face is paler than usual, his eyes glazed over, and in no way does he look right.
He's scratching the top of his wrist, and I still can't manage to string any words together, but I don't end up needing to because soon, Robbie is beside me.
'For fuck sake, what do you want?'
'Rob, relax, relax, you're a way too much of an uptight guy. Relax.' Preston, now standing in the porch, raises his hands defensively, which invokes another swear from Robbie. 'Ohhhhhh... Oh shit, sorry, were you two getting frisky? Bit awkward, sorry.'
He starts sniggering, and he can barely stand still. He's still scratching at the same spot on his arm, and he's blinking so much that he's almost twitching. Robbie snaps at him again, but I don't listen to what he's saying because I'm too fixated on Preston. His teeth are chattering, he can't stop sniffing, and he's using one of the pillars of Robbie's porch to keep himself balanced. He's drunk out of his mind.
'Robbie,' I interrupt him mid-insult. 'We need to get him inside, he needs--'
'Dream on, no way am I letting him back in. Look at him!'
'Whoa, chill out, I'm leaving, okay?' For the second time, Preston raises his arms in defence. 'Enjoy your night and, y'know, while you're undressing Venus, dress up your penis and all that. Be safe, kids.'
Preston turns around and begins half stumbling, half sauntering away from the house, so I chase after him and pull him back. He turns around, stops, stumbles for the umpteenth time, and grins at me. He's still scratching the top of his wrist.
'Mia, just leave him!' Robbie, who's now caught up with us, retorts. 'He can't keep getting away with crap like this!'
'I'm lovely,' Preston slurs in response.
'I'm fed up of everyone licking your arse, myself included,' Robbie snaps back. 'You're an arsehole, Zack, okay? You're not cool, or funny. You used to be, but now you're just... you're just mean. Just go away.'
Now it's my turn to argue with Robbie, and we spend so much time fighting that we don't notice Preston's disappearance for at least five minutes.
I run back into the house to check for him, while Robbie circles the house's grounds. Relief floods over me when, as I inspect the kitchen, the first thing I see is Preston flinging open cupboards. He's not laughing anymore. He's swearing under his breath, and kicking the lower cupboards back shut.
