I glanced up from my eggs and stared at him.

Obviously, I knew I wasn't ready to tell him about Lolita because there was a chance he knew one of the many versions that were said at school.

I had even heard one that consisted of Lolita and I being threatened at a lesbian club.

Where, or whoever that had come from, I wasn't even sure that I wanted to know.

Dragging myself back to reality, I realized Avian was still staring at me, waiting for an answer.

How do I explain the fact that I got that wasted on my own?

I came to the conclusion that I didn't owe him an explanation. I didn't even know him, yet I was in his house, eating his eggs and drinking his orange juice.

Ugh, I hated owing people but now, I clearly owed Avian one for 'saving' me. If only I could just remember exactly what had happened last night.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of the orange juice sitting in front of me.

"Nope," I said, stabbing a piece of egg with my fork and putting it into my mouth.

I stared at him, confusion very evident on his downcast face, not sure why I found his reaction amusing.

I giggled and he glanced up at me, probably wondering what the h.e.l.l was wrong with me.

We were sitting at the island on high bar stools, in the center of the modern style kitchen. Honestly, it looked like something I would call "straight out of a magazine".

I was sure his mother would be a very fascinating woman.

"So you were with a friend," he said it more like a statement than a question, before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms against his chest.

I sighed, dragging my gaze from the interior design of the kitchen, and stared at him, raising my brows at the sudden interest he had in my life. I mean, considering the fact that he had found me pa.s.sed out, and brought me over to his house; I wondered why I wasn't even more freaked out than I was at the moment.

I guess I was just glad it was him, not some perverted old dude that lived in a rundown apartment building.

"Kind of," I settled on the half-truth, knowing that the relations.h.i.+p I had with Lolita was a lot more complicated than that.

He half-smiled as if realizing that he wasn't going to get anything out of me, and sighed, shaking his head.

"You really don't talk about yourself, do you?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

I shook my head slightly with a taunting smile and put down the fork I was holding, before downing the little orange juice left in the gla.s.s.

"I really should go," I said quietly, picking up the plate. I walked over to the sink, and placed my dish in it, before was.h.i.+ng my hands.

Even their dishwas.h.i.+ng soap smelled expensive.

I wiped my hands with a paper towel and turned to look at Avian, who had been quietly watching me.

He nodded then picked up a duffel bag off the floor, walking towards me. He handed me the bag, and then placed his hands in his pockets.

"Your clothes and shoes are in there. I'll just get the duffel back next time" he said with a nonchalant shrug, averting his gaze from mine.

The corner of the right side of my mouth slowly turned up.

"Next time?" my voice croaked slightly and I cleared my throat, nervously tugging the base of the wig at the back of my head.

"We do have to work on the growth of bacteria together," he said with a knowing smile, running his hands through his hair. I smiled, and walked around him, sauntering towards the door.

"I thought you didn't care about that stuff," I said with a mocking smile as I threw the bag over my shoulder "I mean, what is your mom's deal?"

"Oh hardy ha," he laughed sarcastically and rolled his eyes at me. Our laughter slowly died down, and I tucked the bangs over my right eye behind my ear.

He smiled, shook his head, and grabbed his car keys off the counter.

"Come on, I'll take you home"

"You don't have to, I'll just walk," I said as he opened the door for me.

I stepped out of the house and he followed me, shrugging into his jacket.

"You don't even know where you are," he said with a raised brow and a half-smirk "so how do you plan to get to your house on foot?"

I rolled my eyes and smiled, glancing at him shyly "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he said with a shrug, before closing the door after I had climbed into the car.

The inside of his car was weirdly neat, as the boys, I was used to usually have messy cars.

There was, however, a book on the floor by my feet. After slipping on my belt, I gingerly picked up the novel.

"The Repet.i.tion of History?" I asked, partly shocked at the fact that he read such emotionally stricken, and smartly put together books; and also curious as to why he was reading it in the first place.

"Yeah, do you know it?" he asked as he slowly pulled out of the driveway, before briefly glancing at me.

I swallowed and slowly nodded, nauseously placing the book back on the floor where I had found it.

I lay my head back on the headrest and glanced down at my feet where the pages of paper sat, the simple t.i.tle of that book that seemed to trigger harsh memories, piled up inside me.

"Yes I do" I muttered quietly, more to myself as though I were trying to come to terms with reality, and then glanced out the window.