"Well, would you look at that." A voice drawls the moment we walk through the front door. It's followed mere seconds later by the appearance of a familiar brunette woman, who's curled up on the couch, nursing a large glass of wine. "The prodigal children have returned!"

"Hello to you too, Minnie." I roll my eyes, throwing my bag at the couch. She grins, raising her wine glass up in the air in acknowledgment. I narrow my eyes at her. "Hang on. If they're the prodigal children, what does that make me?"

"A work in progress." She replies simply. "It's taken me almost nine years, but I think I'm finally getting somewhere."

"Hey!"

"Spencer, is this supposed to be the surprise party you had planned? Minnie and her bottle of wine?" Axel asks, raising an eyebrow as he surveys the room. "Because dude, your party sucks."

Spencer gasps loudly, staring at my foster brother like he'd just roasted a live puppy.

"You take that back, Axel! You take that back right now!" Then Spencer pauses, frowning slightly as he visibly processes Axel's sentence. "Wait, how do you know about the party?"

"I know everything." Axel replies coolly. "Just like I know you're about to have a drink of Minnie's wine without her noticing."

"What?" My foster mother whips around, just in time to see the bottle pausing in front of Spencer's lips. "Spencer! Put that bottle down before I gut you with a spear!"

"Told you. I know everything." Axel holds his hands up in the air. Selene snorts, shoving him and his bags upstairs.

"If you keep talking you're going to be the gutted one, Mr Oracle."

Spencer makes a noise of disgust. "Minnie, what the hell kind of wine is this? It's abhorrent."

Minnie's eyes narrow. Seconds later, a pillow is launched through the air at his head. Spencer somehow manages to both duck it and prevent the wine from spilling as he takes another sip.

"If it's that bad then go and buy your own."

"I don't buy my wine." Spencer scoffs. "What do you think I am, some kind of peasant?"

"Yes. That is exactly what you are."

He huffs, turning his nose up in mock offence. "I think you need to be fired as Evie's foster mother. You are an equally shocking person and a terrible influence on her."

"Spence, you are at least ten times worse." I pipe up, watching their exchange with incredible amusement. He swivels around with a smirk, pointing at me with the wine bottle.

"You know it baby."

Minnie clicks her tongue, glaring at the back of his blonde head. "Spencer, that's not something you should be proud of."

"Minnie, darling, it will always be something that I'm proud of." Spencer clicks his fingers at me, motioning me forward. "Come forth, Evelyn."

"You have to know that's not my name." I fold my arms over my chest and arch an eyebrow at him. "And why?"

"So you can finish this bottle of wine for me. I need an excuse to open another bottle. Another, better, bottle." He corrects himself. "This one is gross, and I have no intentions of going to the twins' surprise party full of gross wine. That's basically a felony."

Minnie pushes herself up to her feet, giving him a stern look as she passes him on her way to the kitchen. "Spencer, you better not be planning on getting drunk on my leather couch. While I don't condone typical student behaviour, I do condone typical student behaviour on my very expensive leather couch."

Spencer groans loudly. "Fine. We'll go and get drunk in Evie's room instead."

I blink. "Wait hang on, I don't—"

Before I can finish my protest, he drags me away, clattering as childishly as he can up the stairs to my room.

Kicking open my bedroom door, Spencer takes a big swig and throws himself down on my bed, splaying his long, gangly limbs out like a star. I gingerly follow, folding my arms over my chest as I watch him.

"Spencer, if you're going to get yourself drunk again, please do it on the floor. I am not cleaning my bed spread. Again."

Spencer grins, dutifully sliding off my bed. "That was a good night."

"For you it was." I mutter, falling back onto my bed with a loud and over-extended yawn. Spencer slaps my calf, ignoring my yelp of pain.

"Hey! You better not be yawning right now, Evelyn Autumn!"

"My name is not Evelyn. My name has never been Evelyn."

"That's irrelevant." He waves his hand, smacking me again. "Stop being tired and start being drinking."

"First of all, ow." I gripe, kicking his shoulder as hard as I can. "Second of all, 'start being drinking' does not make any sense. At all."

"Is there going to be a third of all?" Spencer asks me after a lapse of silence, leaning back just so I can see him raising an eyebrow at me. "Because you never say a first and second unless you're intending to berate me most vehemently on the 'third of all'."

I poke my tongue out at him childishly. "Yes. Third of all, what brought on this sudden urge to drink anyway?"

"So I can turn up to the twins' surprise party properly drunk. Duh."

"Spencer, you always turn up to parties drunk; you're basically the god of partying." I respond dryly. "But you never start this early, and you're never this angsty when you drink. So what's the real reason?"

Spencer shrugs. He investigates the neck of the bottle closely, very clearly avoiding my gaze. "I'm angry. I drink when I'm angry."

I shuffle around on my bed and lean on my elbows so I'm facing him head on.

"Why are you angry? Is it because of me? Wait no, it can't be because of me, I didn't do anything overly annoying today." I hum good-naturedly as I think, tapping my chin. "Does it maybe have anything to do with that conversation you were having in the car earlier?"

He frowns, taking a long swig. His answer contradicts his actions. "No. It's none of your business anyway, Evie."

"I'm your best friend Spencer. Of course it's my business." I soften my voice, trying not to let his biting tone get to me. "Stop lying and just tell me already. You know I don't like it when people lie to me."

He snorts bitterly. "That's ironic."

"What's ironic?" Now it's my turn to frown at him. I can't help but feel a little hurt by his words, even though I know he's already well on his way to being drunk. He shrugs. "Spencer, when is it going to get through that thick skull of yours that I hate secrets? You're the one who's had to pick up the pieces every other time a person has kept things from me; I thought our friendship meant more to you than that."

"Don't pull that emotional bullshit on me Evie, you know it doesn't work." Spencer retorts, his tone cutting. " I'm allowed to keep secrets from you if I know the truth will hurt you. It's called being a caring friend."

I glare at him. "Don't you know one thing about me? I can look after myself fine. I did before I knew you and I will after I know you. That's just an excuse, and you know it. Caring friend my ass."

Spencer laughs mockingly.

"I know a lot about you Evie, enough to safely call myself your caring best friend." He leans forward, staring me down with an intense gaze." But how well do you know me? What makes you think you can dismiss what I'm saying so easily?"

A chord strikes inside me. I stare at him, and am startled when I see how unusually devoid of emotion his eyes are. I thought I knew him — he had been my best friend since I was ten years old. Sure, I didn't know much about his family or his past, but that wasn't without the effort of trying. He had always been vague when we breached those topics, and changed the subject as quickly as he could. All that I really knew was that he was my closest friend: he was weird and funny and had a little bit of a drinking problem (okay, a big drinking problem), but I loved him nonetheless.

But I'd never seen this side of him, this bitter and twisted side. Chewing on the inside of my lip, I speak softly.

"What's going on, Spencer? Why are you attacking me? Are you trying to make me angry at you?"

He cocks an eyebrow at me. "Is it working?"

"Yes." I narrow my eyes. "Who the hell was on the other end of that phone conversation and what did they say that pissed you off this much?"

Spencer chugs down the rest of the bottle of wine and wipes his mouth with a flourish. He sways slightly on his feet as he throws himself upwards. "As I said Miss Autumn, it's none of your business. And honestly? I couldn't care less if that upsets you, because everybody lies about everything. You just need to buck up already and grow a thicker skin."

I raise myself up to my full height and glare daggers at him, unable to suppress the fury simmering in my veins any longer. "Spencer, I love you, but if you don't stop being an ass I'm not going to be able to restrain from punching you."

"I'm always an ass, E. Get over it." He sneers at me. My eyes bug out as I stare at him in disbelief. He points in my face, narrowly missing poking me in the eye. "Now, this ass is going to go and get wildly drunk at a party; a party that I'm officially redacting your invitation to, by the way. I don't want you to ruin it with your negativity."

My jaw drops. Spencer bows overdramatically and storms out, banging into the doorframe on his way out. My feet stay rooted to the spot. I faintly hear him say to someone "it's done," before the front door slams, and he's gone.

I blink back tears and let out a loud growl of anger, slamming my door shut in a fit of fury. After glaring at the door for several more seconds I throw myself down on my bed, muffling my screams of frustration with my pillow. I know that he was drunk and probably didn't realise what he was saying, but that still didn't take the bite off his words, or make what he said okay. I just couldn't understand why he suddenly decided to attack me. It didn't make any sense. All I did was ask if he was okay, and he acted like I'd skinned a cat in front of him. My curiosity was definitely justified too; he'd been fine all afternoon, up until he'd received that phone call.

That phone call. I scowl at my pillow. I don't know who was on the other end, but they had clearly discussed me at obvious length with my best friend, which, for some unknown reason, had turned him against me.

And for that, I hated them. In that moment, I hated them with every fibre of my being.

I turn to my side, staring blankly at the spot Spencer had inhabited not five minutes ago. I don't move for several minutes. In the midst of all my dogged attempts to process what happened, I shudder, my body unexpectedly hit by a tidal wave of exhaustion. All of sudden I'm drowning, and I struggle to keep my eyes open. My good conscience fights desperately to keep me awake; despite everything, I don't like the idea of Spencer going out in the state that he's in, particularly in the mood he's in.

But then my bitterness returns with a whole armada fuming about my best friend's caustic behaviour, and suddenly my good conscience's worries go up in a puff of smoke.

He'll be fine. He'll have the twins with him. Besides, he can obviously look after himself. He said it before; he doesn't want me or my negativity around. Why would I turn up when I'm obviously not wanted?

So, with the scowl firmly fastened on my face, I switch off my light and turn over into a restless sleep.

— — —

It feels like I barely get ten minutes of sleep before the veil of sleep surrounding me is ripped to shreds by the shrill ringing of my phone. Grumbling unintelligibly, I reluctantly roll over and peel my eyes open, grudgingly peering at my alarm clock. 2:47am. I groan loudly and glare at my phone. Who the hell is calling me at 3 in the morning?

The caller ID flashes at me obnoxiously. My glare deepens. Of course it's him.

"Spencer, what do you want?" I growl, answering the phone. "It's 3 in the morning and I really don't have the energy to talk to you right now."

"Evie?" I'm instantly awake when I realise the voice on the other end is not Spencer's. "This is Evie, right?"

"Yes, it is." I reply, sitting up in bed. "Who is this?"

"It's Leia. I'm a friend of your sister's." She says, struggling to make herself heard above the raucousness of the party. She yells at someone behind the phone. "Olly shut up! I'm on the phone!"

"Oh. Hey Leia." I sigh, rubbing my face in confusion. "Not that it's not good to talk to you or anything, but why are you calling me from Spencer's phone?"

"Spencer's drunk." She replies blankly, and I snort. No surprises there. "As in, so drunk he can't stand up. Can you come get him? We're all really worried about him, especially the twins."

I'm worried for all of two seconds before I remember what happened before Spencer's departure from my room. My sympathy withers up. "He can look after himself, Leia. He made it perfectly clear that he doesn't need or want me around him."

"Evie, please." Leia begs. "Whatever he said to you, he probably didn't mean it. He's the king of saying idiotic things when he's drunk. You can be angry and yell at him to your heart's content later, but right now I'm worried he's going to do something really stupid if you don't come help."

"He already did something stupid Leia." I deadpan. "Look, I appreciate you trying to look out for him, but he made it abundantly obvious that he doesn't want to see me tonight. And quite frankly, I don't want to see him."

"You know that's not true. How would you feel if he died or something terrible happened to him because you didn't come and get him? He needs to go home. And have a glass of water. And quite possibly have his entire body volume replaced with something that isn't alcohol."

"Why exactly can't you take him home? Or literally anybody else who is at the party with him? It's three a.m., Leia." I reiterate with as much emphasis as my exhausted mind can muster.

"I think you underestimate Spencer's power to get literally every single person at a party drunk, Evie." She replies dryly. "I've been drinking, just like everyone else. Otherwise I would take him home. Look, I know what the time is and I'm sorry, but could you please just come?"

I screw up my face in frustration before finally giving in with a groan, rubbing my face with my hand. Damn my good conscience. "He's lucky I like you, Leia."

She sighs in relief. "Thank you Evie. I'll make sure he doesn't do anything exceedingly stupid until you arrive."

"Yeah, good luck with that." I snort. Leia laughs breezily, hanging up after saying a hurried goodbye.

With a loud sigh, I reluctantly extricate myself from my warm bed, slipping on my old boots and my favourite hoodie over my ragged penguin-themed pyjamas. Once I've checked that my attire is at least semi-decent, I grab the keys to my foster mother's car and quietly slip out the door into the darkness.

Fortunately for me, Leia made sure to text me the directions while I was still dragging myself out of sleep's clutches, so it doesn't take too long to find the party. I pull into the first park I find and switch the car off, staring listlessly out at the mansion Spencer had somehow managed to hire out for the twins' welcome home party.The noise of the deafeningly loud music thumps through my car, reverberating through my body. I let out a long breath and hop out of the car, shoving the keys into my pocket. If I wasn't so frustrated and worried about Spencer, I'd probably be more self conscious about my hoodie-penguin pyjama combination, but I'd passed the point of caring. I just want to get this over and done with so I could go back home to my warm, comfy bed. I just about drool at the thought of it.

"Evie?" I turn to see a beautiful, slender blonde girl standing in the doorway of the mansion. She rushes down the steps to me, as graceful as a gazelle, a worried look plastered on her dainty features. "Oh, thank God you're here. Spencer is about ten seconds away from jumping off the roof."

"Hey Leia." I smile minutely, folding my arms tightly across my chest. "Where is he?"

"He's just in—"

"Evie!" Leia's cut off by a drunken shout. Found him. Spencer staggers up to us and throws his arm around Leia, grinning widely at me. "What're you doing here? I told you to stay away. I don't like your negativity, 'member?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not your biggest fan right now either, Spencer." I reply sourly.

He points at me, accidentally poking my face. Hard. "See that, that's the negativity I'm talking about. Begone, negativity!"

"Ow Spencer." I scowl at him, grabbing his arm. "Come on, we're going."

"What?" He rips his arm out of my grip and pouts. "Why? I want to stay here and get drunk." He drags the last word out, waving his bottle around in the air as if that one small action proves his point.

I roll my eyes. "I'm pretty sure you've already achieved that, Spence."

He hiccups and beams at me. "Really? Awesome!"

I groan and look at Leia, who's barely holding back a grin. She gives me the thumbs up. "Spencer, let's go."

"But I wanna stay." He whines, looking at Leia. "Lee, tell her. Tell her I need to stay. People need the King of Partying at the party."

"The King of Partying isn't going to do much if he can't stand up." Leia laughs, flipping her golden curls over her shoulder. "Just go, Spencer. I'll hold down the fort for you."

"Fine. But I swear to wine, if one person doesn't have a good time, I'm burying you in the ground." He grumbles, throwing his bottle at the ground as hard as he can. It breaks, sending razor-sharp glass shards scattering everywhere. I raise my eyebrows. Spencer completely ignores me, storming off in an obvious huff.

Alcohol sure makes him moody.

I glance back at Leia again. She shrugs with a smile. "Thanks Evie."

"Autumn come on!" Spencer yells over his shoulder as he starts to cross the road to my car. "The longer you stand there and gossip, the more time people have to realise you're at a party in your penguin freaking pyjamas!"

"Spencer—" Just as I start to yell at him for his shockingly loud and incredibly obtuse insult, I see something that stops the sentence short in my throat. A bolt of fear shoots through me like an arrow. "Look out!"

Spencer turns, just in time to see the truck plow straight into him.