He can't focus the entire day.

Nick can only think about Madison's lips on his and his fingers against her bare skin. He's distracted to the point where his teachers despair and even Theo drags himself away from Lula long enough to frown at him in confusion. It's a good thing that Madison is not in any of his classes because every time he thinks of her, all he can see is her flushed cheeks, her bright eyes, her bruised lips. There's something about Madison that simply consumes him whole.

The thing is, that even though they're going to talk again to figure whatever this is out and probably end up with the whole dancing thing cancelled, all Nick can think about is that he'll see her again. Desire burns within him, yearning for Madison's touch in a wild sort of desperation that Nick doesn't yet understand, and he's so lost he doesn't hear his phone ring.

Will pushes at him. "Nick. Nick."

Nick blinks. "Huh?"

Will gives him another one of his You're-Acting-Weird looks. Nick's been on the receiving end of quite a lot of those this week. "Your phone's been going off like mad, mate," he says, chewing a carrot stick. "You alright? You seem a bit distracted."

"Yeah, you haven't even touched your food," Theo adds, furrowing his brows.

His cheeks flushed heavily, Nick drops his gaze down to his food. "Oh, yeah, no, I'm fine," he says quickly, before he pulls his phone out of his pocket and walks away. He can feel Will's curious gaze burning in his back as Nick picks up. "Mum?"

"Nick, why haven't you been picking up?" his mother demands, her voice a tight and tremulous thing. Nick opens his mouth but his mother interrupts, as she is wont to do. "Never mind that for now. Nick, I know that it is only lunch, but you've only got one class left, anyway. I can speak to your teachers, but I need you to come home."

Nick thinks of Mitchell and black feathers and bruises, his heart sinking as his fists clench. Fear grips him tightly, cold and awful. He's holding his phone so tightly the edges of the phone cut into his palm, leaving long, red lines. "What is it?" he asks, and his voice is stiff, thrumming with apprehension. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nick," his mother says, and Nick swallows thickly as his mother's voice comes out slightly thin. "Nick, I need you to come home."

*

There is an array of black feathers on the dining table when he enters, and it stops Nick where he stands in the doorway, his lips parting.

His mother is eyeing him carefully.

"So you do know what these are," she says, with something like triumph lingering in her voice. "I have been finding these feathers in all of my offices, all of my buildings. My warehouses, everything. Now, I've called animal control and they say that crows or blackbirds don't usually frequent busy cities." She stares at him and pushes her open laptop towards him, her fingers brushing past the airline ticket. "And, well, you see, I never would have gotten so suspicious if this had not showed up, Nick."

Nick swallows thickly and he moves into the house, his heart hammering hard against his chest. He furrows his brows towards the website flickering on the screen.

"I don't know what I'm looking at," Nick confesses heavily.

"That's a newspaper article," his mother tells him sternly, her eyes fixed on him. "Detailing all the embezzling and fraud that Mr Carroway has been found guilty of. This morning, they were out with an arrest warrant for him." Nick suppresses something like triumphant glee. "Nick, my contacts in the police department have no idea who could have sent all of those anonymous tips because their traces were covered almost impossibly."

Madison Sutton, you angel, he thinks. Nick is so gleeful he could kiss Madison again.

The thought flickers across his mind and Nick's mouth goes dry. He fights to assume an innocent expression and blinks at his mother.

"You think it was me, don't you?" Nick says, and he gasps, as though he's shocked that his mother would accuse him of such a dastardly thing. "I'm not Mr Robot, Mum. I don't know a thing about hacking and all of that. Just because I hate Will's Dad and think he's a waste of space doesn't mean that you can attack me like this."

Guilt flickers across his mother's face, suddenly, and the light within her eyes dim slightly. Nick feels the slightest bit of guilt lurch within his stomach, but he holds himself strong. His mother clears her throat, looking awkward, her cheeks flushed.

"I am not accusing you of anything, Nick -,"

"Well, it sounds like you are," Nick says heavily. He waves a hand towards the dining table. "You've got this place set up like a lost episode of CSI!"

"Nicholas," his mother says, and that's when Nick realises that his mother is not in the mood to joke. Something has happened, something bad. "Mr Carroway was a rather heavy dealer within my company, too. There was a lot that I depended on him for."

Nick's lips part.

When he finds his voice, he says, "Why? He's a prick - even I know that, and I haven't been here a full year!"

"I won't have such language under my roof, Nicholas," his mother says angrily. "Now I understand that you may have proceeded a little differently throughout your time with your father, but I won't tolerate you raising your voice at me and using bad language." She stares at the way Nick lowers his gaze and gives a soft sigh. "I don't want to be a bad mother, Nick. I really don't. When I - when I found out that you were still -,"

"You pulled me out of my last class to have a heart-to-heart?" Nick says quickly, interrupting his mother before the awkwardness can consume him. "I don't know if it's passed your notice, but I have exams coming up, too. I need to do the best I can, and I don't think that's going to happen with my absentee mother accusing me of playing dirty tricks against her business partner -,"

"Nick -,"

"Look, I get that you're trying," Nick says, and he stares at his mother, his breaths coming out hard. "But you don't have to. You really don't. Whatever kind of mother-son relationship you want to foster, it's not going to work. You're eighteen years too late. Maybe when I was a kid and playing with one of Dad's broken bottles, because, you know, I didn't have any normal toys, maybe that kind of stuff would have worked on me, but not anymore."

His mother winces at his words but strangely enough, she looks like she might cry. "Nick," she says again, and her voice is heavy.

Nick looks away because he's telling the truth. He really doesn't want a relationship with his mother. With her money, yeah.

But with her?

With the same woman who abandoned him to his drunken and abusive father, as soon as he was born? The same woman, who, for years, Nick had dreamed of, had yearned to arrive for him, to care for him, to love him, like he'd seen on TV. He'd longed for his mother to fly into his life and to take him away, to smile at him with warmth and love in her eyes, but Nick had grown to learn that life wasn't like that.

When his mother really did fly into his life and take him away, he realised, soon enough, that he was only there to fill the gap in her life and nothing more. Nick is here because she felt guilty, because she found out that his dad died and remembered that he existed.

"You took me away without even asking for my name," Nick says, and he sounds hollowed out, even to himself. "Just strode into school and pulled me out of my own life. Because you felt guilty. I'm not here for me, no matter what you might tell yourself. I'm here for you. I'm here because you realised you were an asshole and you don't like that part of yourself so here I am, your attempt to redeem yourself."

"Nick, that is not -,"

"You don't even ask about Dad," Nick interrupts, because really? He doesn't want his mother's excuses. "You don't ask about anything I've ever been through. You don't ask about my friends or whatever I might want or anything. You just read my file."

"I thought that talking about your father would -,"

"Bring up bad memories?" Nick scoffs, and he reaches for his sleeve, lifting the cloth away from his arm. His mother leans in and winces at the sight of the burn mark. "My body is a bad memory. You think I care?" He shakes his head. "I don't care about Dad. I never have. Whatever he did to me, I don't care about that, either. But I thought you would. I thought that that's what mothers are supposed to do."

He thought that mothers were supposed to care.

Shame overcomes his mother's face, as she begins to cry softly.

"I do care, Nick," she insists, watery-eyed. "I care about you. I just - I don't know how to show it. I'm - you're - we're different people and I hoped that once we got used to each other, we would be able to -,"

"Every time you talk to me, you accuse me of something new," Nick points out. Yeah, he is at fault for most of her accusations, but that's not something Nick's going to say. What if that's the breaking point for her? "And your only concern is not me. It's your company. I get that you've done a lot for your business. You shed your blood and your sweat and your tears for it. But you didn't do that for me."

His mother stares at him, her lips parting slightly. "You don't understand, Nick," she says heavily. "When I had you, I was - I was very young and - and confused and -,"

It is then Nick's gaze falls properly to the airline ticket beneath his mother's fingers.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

She flushes heavily. "We lost - we lost a lot of profit," his mother tells him. "And I have to go away for a couple of days, to sort it out, and figure out what these feathers are. I didn't want you to be alone, so I was thinking of sending you to that school trip -,"

"No," Nick says quickly. He shakes his head. "I want to stay here." He pauses a little, staring at his mother, before feeling guilty. "Look, I'm sorry. You're not as bad as I made it out to be. Least you give me food. And a roof. And money."

"That's the necessities, Nick," his mother says tearfully, but she chuckles. "You're a real goblin for money, aren't you?"

Nick gives her a half-grin.

"Well, when you don't have much of something, you really appreciate it when you do." He looks at his mother. "Have a safe flight, Mum."

*

Nick texts Madison, in the end.

It's too late for him to go back to school and he doesn't expect that she'll actually turn up to his house, anyway. Nick is already thinking about the black feathers, thinking about that stupid son of a bitch, Mitchell, and wondering what he's going to do, when a sleek, black car pulls up into the driveway.

His jaw drops when Madison gets out.

"Well? Aren't you going to invite me in?" Madison demands, and Nick stumbles to let her in.

For a moment, they stare at each other, slightly startled.

She's beautiful before him, still dressed in her school uniform. The skirt ruffles tantalisingly across her knees and her hair is swept to one side, tumbling against her shoulder in soft curls. He can't stop staring at her, Nick realises, and he tears his gaze away quickly before she labels him a freak. He swallows thickly and steps back.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Nick offers awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Madison shakes her head.

"I'm not going to be staying," she tells him bluntly. She looks visibly nervous as she speaks. "Alright, so ...it happened."

She bites her lip and Nick's gaze is drawn to the motion, as he finds himself remembering the way she'd bitten his lip, feeling slightly uncomfortable and heated. He clears his throat quickly and nods.

"Yeah," Nick says lamely. "And it can't happen again. I don't ...like you."

"Good!" Madison says eagerly. "Because I don't - like you either. Like that."

"Yeah," Nick says quickly. "We don't - we don't do that."

Madison looks relieved, staring up at him.

"Yeah," she says.

Nick stares back at her.

"Yeah," he says.

Everything within them snaps and they launch themselves at each other again.

He crashes his lips onto hers, his arms already lifting up around her lithe body and crushing her to his chest, as Madison kisses him back just as fiercely. Nick is dizzy, as her fingers curl into the thick mane of his hair, but he groans into the kiss, his fingers running against her bare skin. She kicks off her heels impatiently and Madison's legs wrap around his waist automatically. She wraps her arm around her back, crushing them closer, as she gasps into his mouth. Nick pulls her up onto the kitchen counter, hungrily rasping against her mouth.

For a moment, they pull away from each other, staring at each other helplessly. Madison is staring at him, her breaths hard.

"Whatever this is," she begins, and Nick is already beginning to reluctantly pull away, "we don't have to tell anyone."

By way of answer, Nick leans forward and captures her lips again, grinning against her lips as he drags his mouth against her bare skin. Madison tilts her head back, both of them fumbling to open her buttons, his lips hot against the hollow of her neck.

Madison is breathing hard, her fingers clawing at his back, as she gasps, "Damn it." Her lips are like fire against his cheek. "Why do you have to be such a good kisser?"

Nick reaches for her and she moulds against him easily, as he takes them upstairs, to his room, kissing her hard, his hands in her hair. Madison weighs barely anything and she holds onto him tightly, moaning in pleasure.

When they're in his room, Nick moves them to his bed and Madison drags him into the bed, both of them tangled up in each other.

He presses her down into the pillow, straddling her, and Madison writhes under him, tangled in white silk sheets, as moans escape her lips, coming undone as her hair spills like a waterfall all around her. Nick murmurs her name under his breath, presses it against her bare skin like a promise, heat trailing against his skin where her fingers trace.

"Wait," Nick gasps hotly, pulling away.

Madison stares up at him, in a dizzied haze.

"What?" she snaps out, and though she clearly tries to sound focused, her words come out breathy.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks her.

"What do you think I am, a virgin?" She rolls her eyes at him and loops her arms around his neck, dragging him back down. Nick still hesitates, blinking, so Madison groans. "Yes, I want to do this - now kiss me, Hawthorne boy."

He crashes his lips against hers, his hands roaming impatiently all over her body as he pulls down her skirt, his fingers dragging against her bare thigh. Madison groans into his mouth, her fingers raking at his shirt as she lifts it and drags it off eagerly. Nick pushes her into the sheets, his lips dragging against Madison's skin as she wraps her bare legs around his waist, rubbing herself against him.

Another thought strikes him, and Nick pulls away again.

"Wait."

Madison groans, her voice husky. She's a glorious sight, her brown hair slipping past her bare shoulder, her slim legs still wrapped around his waist.

"Oh, what now?"

"One minute."

Nick dives into his drawer quickly, fumbling through, before he pulls out the packet of condoms. Madison stares at him, her lips parting, and she groans again, reaching for him impatiently.

"How am I even more turned on?"

Nick laughs against her bare skin and the night descends into pleasure.

*