Noelle wrestled with her seatbelt. It wouldn't give. Cedric leaned in to help, their faces inches apart. He smelled beer on her breath; she noticed his impossibly long eyelashes. On impulse, she hugged his arm.

He froze. "What are you doing?" he asked softly.

She didn't answer, just kissed him. A wave of panic washed over her as she pulled back. Cedric remained still, his expression obscured by the dim streetlight. Flustered, Noelle stammered, "Sir, if you don't have a girlfriend... what do you think of me?"

For a heartbeat, his gaze intensified, then he pulled away, gripping the wheel. "You're drunk," he said, starting the car.

The drive was silent. Cedric fought a strange tugging in his chest. At a red light, he finally spoke. "You're young. You don't understand love."

Noelle slept. Cedric smiled helplessly; she'd passed out without a second thought. He hoped she wouldn't remember a thing.

At her apartment, he nudged her. "Wake up."

She swatted him, turning back to sleep. He sighed, then lifted her effortlessly from the car and carried her inside. He removed her heels, tucked her in. Watching her, a complex expression on his face, he turned to leave, then heard her mumble, "Mom, I want water."

His heart ached. He couldn't breathe. He returned with water, helped her sit, and watched her drink. Then, unexpectedly, she hugged him. "Mom, I miss you. You're the only one who's ever been good to me."

Cedric sat stiffly, holding the empty glass, utterly helpless. The city lights cast long shadows. Something, he felt, had shifted between them.

The next morning, Noelle woke with a splitting headache. Too much to drink. She vaguely remembered sneaking beer, but the rest was a blur. She was still in her dress. Discomfort gnawed at her. A quick shower refreshed her, but the night remained a mystery.

Hesitantly, she went to Cedric's apartment. He emerged from the bathroom, bathrobe askew, revealing his abs. Her face flushed instantly.