4 a.m.

thirty-one

Wendy extended her other hand and held it out to Quentin, who took it and helped her to her feet. She got up and clutched her hand, letting tears well up in her hand. She watched Quentin help Naomi to her feet, and Naomi reached into her pocket, taking out a bottle of Vicodin pills.

She handed them to Wendy and Wendy took them, she stared at Quentin who spoke, "She's the one that everyone gets their Vicodin from."

Wendy stared at Naomi, "Sorry for punching you."

Naomi didn't accept the apology but she didn't hold a grudge, she grabbed her things and walked herself to the front door, Wendy followed her and Quentin went to wipe the blood off the floor. As Wendy was going to close the door, Naomi stopped her with her foot and leaned close to Wendy's ear.

"Just letting you know, anger is a sign of withdrawal, how long have you been off the pills? Not long, right? That's how you know that you're addicted."

Wendy grit her teeth and stared at the redhead in front of her, "I suggest you leave before I hit you again."

Naomi chuckled and walked away, Wendy shut the door and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down. She walked into the kitchen where Quentin was taking out two glasses.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"I know that you didn't come here just because you want your pills, you could have easily just called me for that, you came because you wanted to see me so I'm getting us a drink. What do you want?"

"Just give me some wine, I know that your older brother likes wine," Wendy said to him, "So don't lie and say that you don't have any."

"Red or white?" he asked her, "That's a dumb question I know you like white wine."

She smiled a bit and he smiled back at her and poured them both a glass, "Thank you," she said to him when he handed her the glass.

"So why are you here Wendy?" he asked her.

Wendy took a sip of her wine and shrugged, "I don't know."

"You want me to answer that question for you?" he raised an eyebrow at her. The seventeen year old girl, soon to be eighteen stared at the nineteen year old boy in front of her. She looked down and swallowed hard, looking back up.

"Not really but, I know you're going to anyway."

"It's because I distract you from all your problems Wendy, how bad does your hand hurt right now?" he asked her.

She stared at her hand and smiled when she noticed that it didn't hurt so bad now that she was distracted talking to him.

She nodded, "You're right."

"I'm Quentin Hart, I'm always right," he gloated, taking a sip of his wine and talking out a joint that he had in the kitchen drawer. He gave it to her and she put it between her lips and let him light it for her, she stared at him as he did this and swallowed hard as he licked his lips.

"I know that you're attracted to me," Quentin chuckled, "I see the way you look at me and I saw how you tensed up when you saw Naomi."

Wendy blew smoke out of her mouth, "I was not tense."

"You don't have to worry about her," Quentin chuckled, "She's into girls sadly."

The bleach blond haired girl stared at him and sighed, "I am attracted to you, but we would never work."

"You don't know that," he said to her, "You're only saying that because after chasing Michael, you got hi m and now you have nothing to chase, and you like the games."