As soon as we reached into our apartments, I quickly gathered my things, then fled out of the car without saying goodnight to Austin or Kristy.

The sound of clicking escaped my heels as I rushed into the apartment complex. Like a flag, my brownish-blonde curls swished against my back, as my mind pictured Joseph chugging down a bottle of toxic beer.

Retrieving my keys from my purse, I had spent an hour unlocking it, stepping inside the room, and silently closing the door.

Marching past the dirty apartment, I dodged fumes of Clorox and Joseph's putrid cologne.

In the meantime, my tongue became dry as cotton as sharp colors transformed into a muggy blur. The bright lights hurt my eyes; the ticking sounds of a clock made my head pound even more.

But in spite of my discomfort, I ran my right hand across the white walls of the apartment lobby. Their slightly bumpy ridges are like red pimples growing on my small nose.

Tracing them against my fingers, I moved my tired feet across the dirt tiled floors. The scorching warm air poured down my back, as the broken A/C stopped blowing gusts of cold wind in my face.

Tired, I quietly closed the door behind me and unlaced my sneakers.

I found the place exactly where it was: the dirty dishes are still piled up in the sink, desserts and snacks are secured in the food closet, and my drunk dad is still drinking his beer close to the shitty television set.

Joseph is a complete mess.

His salt and pepper hair showered over his large forehead; black bags formed underneath his sleepy eyelids, as Joseph sipped an ounce of his beer then watched the blizzard of black and white buzzing in the screen.

Breadcrumbs and spots of dry spit grew on his white tank top as his black shorts reached down to his hairy, withered thighs.

With a half-eaten cheese sandwich in his left hand, Joseph's dark brown eyes stayed on the fuzzy image. His nose twitches like a bunny, and his stubble mouth is covered in crumbs.

Smiling to myself, I managed to walk up into my bedroom, placed my purse on my bed, take a shower, and change into my gray tank top and red gym shorts.

Doing my hair in a luscious ponytail, I thought about jumping into my bed and go to sleep, when all of a sudden, I noticed the ash jar's smooth lid sticking out of my purse.

Unnerved, I slowly picked up Elle Jones' from the bag, and ran my fingers against the chiseled words.

Although it felt cool from the blistering wind, I desperately wanted to tell someone about this, but who can I trust?

My father is a cop, my older brother Jacob is in a state-of-the-art college, and my best friend has scholarships.

But still, I needed someone to talk to.

Someone who wouldn't bail on me when I needed help; unlike my crack addict mother did.

Throwing my head against my soft pillows, I wrapped my arms around Elle Jones' jar, then hugged it like my very own teddy bear.

I can't believe it, I thought, staring at the plain ceiling. I have stolen Elle Jones' ashes.

I could see the headlines now: a sixteen-year-old aspiring director/filmmaker thrown behind bars for robbing a deceased celebrity's ashes.

I glanced at the jar sharply then shake my head in disgust.

Ugh, what the fuck was I thinking?!

Of all the times I have done something completely stupid, stealing someone's ashes is one of them!

God, I feel like that girl in Moonstruck when she slapped Nicolas Cage for admitting his feelings for her.

"Shit, " I mumbled to myself.

I couldn't show my face to Kristy, Joseph, or anyone!

The cold guilt grew thicker and thicker into my mind until I couldn't breathe.

I became desperate to find Warren and tell him my mistakes, but I doubt that he will listen. Besides, I did make him shit himself at the funeral.

"Fuck, " I murmured to myself. "Now what am I going to do?"

Just then, I heard a quiet knock on the apartment door.

Curious, I slid out of bed, put the jar back into my purse, then hurried out of my room to answer it.

Walking briskly passed my sleeping father, I managed to creep up to the white, battered door, undo the lock, and turn the knob.

In front of me was Austin; like me, he had already changed into his pajamas. Austin wears a long-sleeved, olive green shirt, long, black pajama pants, and apparently no shoes.

As for his hair, it looked as if an animal made a nest in there; puffs of brown curls spilled over his forehead, behind his ears, and in between his tired eyes.

"Hey Jack," greeted Austin.

"Hi,"  I greeted back nervously. "How're things?"

"Everything is good."

I nod very slowly, giving him one of my unsure smiles.

"Oh," I said. "that's good."

Austin scratched his head nervously then said, "so, is everything okay? I tried looking for you, but you bailed."

My smile fell short. "Oh."

"Are you like, on your period?" he asked, feeling embarrassed. "I know that question sounds stupid, but I couldn't find any explanation on why you left."

"Austin, I am not on my period," I say quietly.

"Then why did you leave?" asked Austin, feeling hurt. "Thanks to you, my mom thinks you hate her or something."

"Holy shit, " I moaned, cursing myself.

Kristy must have sent him over to check on me. Damn, even though I have told her a thousand times that I am fine, Kristy is still fussing over her guilt. 

Taking a deep breath, I said to Austin: "I never meant to hurt your mom. It's just that my dad worries about me."

Austin looked over my shoulder to see Joseph snoozing in his couch, then says coldly, "yeah, he looks like it."

I roll my eyes.  "Keep your voice down, okay?"

"Sure, so what happened back there?" asked Austin. "Is there something you are not telling me?"

I bite my bottom lip very hard but didn't say anything to him.

"It's true, isn't it?" Austin implored. "You are hiding something?"

I give him a regretful nod. 

"Is it drugs?"

"No."

"Booze?"

"No."

"Oh my God, " Austin gasped. "Are you pregnant?"

"The fuck?" I cried. "First you accuse me of menstruating, and now you think I have a kid inside my belly?"

Austin blushed immensely, too embarrassed to speak.

Annoyed by his antics, I checked around for anyone listening, grabbed Austin by the hand, ushered him into my apartment, and shut the door.

Confused, he asked me what I was doing, but I ignored him, telling him in a hushed voice to be silent.

Our bare feet tiptoed around the couch where my snoring father slept. Empty beer bottles skidded around the floor, like a vigorous pinball machine.

With stealthy grace, I managed to take Austin upstairs to my bedroom, and lock the door behind me.

"Hey, Jack, what are you—" Austin started to say.

"Shut up," I insisted, silencing him with a look.

I then told him to sit on my bed and wait while I quickly covered the windows with my frilly, dark blue curtains.

My ponytail flounced up and down like a miniature pinata waiting to be smacked with a wooden bat.

After taking another look around my quiet room, I let out a sigh and sat down next to Austin, who felt a little uncomfortable being alone with a girl.

Watching me intently, Austin's eyes widen in horror. He tried distancing himself from me, but he was too afraid to move.

"Listen, Jack," he began nervously. "I am flattered, but I am not that attracted to you."

I smacked my forehead against my head.

"Holy fuck, " I snarled. "we're not having sex, Austin."

My best friend suddenly became relieved.

"Oh thank God," he sighed.

"Instead, I am going to tell you the truth, but first, you have to promise me that you won't lose your shit."

Seeing my solemn reaction as a joke, Austin rolled his eyes.

"I know you act like a badass around grownups, " he began. "but you would never do anything harmful or illegal."

I sighed very loudly, shaking my head at his compliment.

"Austin, you don't understand." I insisted. "I did something fucked up."

"Really?" he asked. "Like what?"

Taking a deep breath, I take out the brown jar from my purse, then showed it to Austin.

"Here, " I said with precaution. "Take it."

Austin takes the jar from my hands then smiled.

"Cool jar, " he said, examining its surface. "What's in it?" 

"Elle Jones' ashes," I blurted.

Austin's nice smile vanished completely, gazing down the jar he is now holding. His eyes bulged like a cartoon animal, his face was drained from color, and his body trembled like a frightened child.

"WHAT THE FU—" he started to shout.

"Shush!" I hissed. "Keep your voice down!"

"You stole a dead woman's ashes?!" he shrieked, keeping his voice down. 

"Yes, " I repeated, snatching the jar from his scared hands.

Fuck, it has been three seconds I am starting to regret bringing Austin into my room.

"Why?!" he whispered. "Now Warren is going to be pissed!"

"I know!" I cried.

Getting up from my bed, Austin snarled: "You didn't even apologize to him, didn't you?"

"I wanted to," I confessed. "but he wasn't there."

Austin buried his displeased face with his hands.

"Where did you find the jar?" he simply asks.

"In the park," I said truthfully. "No one saw me, I swear."

Austin removes his face from his hands then looks at me to see if I am telling the truth.

"So, you are saying that Warren deliberately left his grandmother's ashes in the park?" he asks in a fearful tone.

I nodded very glumly.

"And you happened to pick it up?"

I nodded again.

"Jesus, why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

I glared at him very angrily. "Because I didn't want you or Kristy to take the blame!"

"I rather take the blame for your mistakes than see you behind bars." Austin snapped.

I snorted then crossed my arms.

"You can't help me, " I spat. "You have two loving moms, a scholarship, and a life! I don't want to fuck that up for you."

"Well, I don't want this stolen jar to fuck up your life." Austin insisted.

He says that as he walks over to the bed then sits down next to me. While tidying up his messy hair, Austin's face suddenly began to change. Instead of a shocked look, he became calm and concerning.

"I want to help you, Jack." Austin insisted. "Whatever happens, I want to be there to cheer you up. Okay?"

I gave him a mere nod. "Yeah."

Studying the jar, Austin asks what I was going to do with it.

I shrug my shoulders. "I was thinking about keeping it in my room."

Austin frowned. "Why?"

I shrug again.

"I don't know," I said. "I was hoping to hide the jar until it blows over."

My best friend gave me a knowing look.

"What?" I ask.

"I don't know about you, but I think we should at least tell the cops about this."

I frown instantly. "Seriously? I don't want to go to prison."

"Neither do I,"  agreed Austin. "but the last thing we want is your dad on our ass."

I ran my fingers through my hair then closed my eyes.

A part of me longed to follow Austin's beliefs, but the other wanted me to keep my mouth shut.

"Fine, " I said eventually. "Let's return the jar to Warren. Even if I think he is a worthless piece of shit."

Austin grinned very happily.

"Good, " he says. "Let's do it first thing in the morning, right after my shift at some kiddie restaurant on West Avenue."

I raised my eyebrow at him in surprise.

"You got a job?" I ask.

Austin smiled even more. "Yeah, I mean I work at the cashier, but I can easily get a Conan 5mm camera, film, and a tripod with thirty-five dollars."

And if we add that to the amount of cash Austin and I had saved over the year, then we will have enough to make a movie.

"That's great, " I say gleefully. "I'm so proud of you."

He looked at me in surprise.

"Really?" he asks.

I nodded at Austin.

"Yeah," I replied, "with enough money, we can make our short film. And besides, what could go wrong?"