Just a quick warning: drug use is discussed in this chapter

Cocaine, also known as benzoylmethylecgonine or coke, is a strong stimulant mostly used as a recreational drug. It is commonly snorted, inhaled, or injected into the veins. Mental effects may include loss of contact with reality, an intense feeling of happiness, or agitation.

Quentin had just found a tiny white snap lock back filled with the drug inside of Margot's glove box.

He hadn't been meaning to pry, it was just that Margot had run into the petrol station for something and she hadn't come back for a while so he had gotten bored and started going through her stuff. Okay, so maybe that qualified as prying but he had never ever in a million years thought he would find that.

It couldn't have been more than a gram and it felt weightless between his fingers when he had held it. Then, realizing with a start that he was holding drugs in broad daylight for all to see he had shoved it right back where he found it and quickly shut the glove box up.

It might not be hers, he reasoned. Maybe one of her friends left it for safekeeping. And Margot was her own person. She could do whatever she wanted. She didn't have to answer to Quentin or explain herself. Part of Quentin knew the he was just telling himself what he wanted to hear, but he didn't bring it up with her, not then. They were having such a good time and he didn't want to ruin it.

'So you haven't caught up with anyone from high school other than me?'

Margot and he are sitting cross-legged on the bonnet of the Pontiac outside one of the many central parks situated around North Carolina, burger wrappers and plastic cups of cola spread out around them. The young guy at the In'N'Out burger drive through almost had a heart attack when she pulled up at the order window. It was surreal for Quentin to see how people reacted to her. There was an order of actions that everyone seemed to go through, almost like the stages of grief.

First, there was uncertainty, the 'is it really her?' thought process. It was true people looked different on camera so people did the classic double take. After all, the chances of running into someone famous in an informal situation was slim to none for a lot of people so they doubt themselves.

Secondly, there was shock, the 'oh my great glorious God, it is her!' realization. They smile and giggle and lose their shit.

Third, the 'what should I do about it.' Some people just start snapping photos of her on their phones or tablets like paparazzi. Quentin notices Margot's discomfort at these people. She much prefers people to just ask her for an autograph or a photo.

And lastly, the acceptance stage. Yes, they had just met one of their idols and now they have to let them go. The few fans Quentin and she had run into have all been pretty good at letting her go her way.

However not everybody recognized Margot and on those occasions she seemed to revel in the time when she could live how she used to. It was those times she was the most like the girl he used to know and love. Quentin had always known she was amazing but now the rest of the world had finally caught up with him.

She answered his question with a mouth full of burger. 'Why is that so surprising? You do remember my sheer desperation when it came to leaving Florida and everyone there?'

He laughs. 'I have a vague recollection. You seem to have had so many friends at school, though. Everyone knew Margot Roth Speigelman. I would have thought some of them would have stuck.'

'Lacey was my closest friend and last summer was the first time we've spoken since Agloe. What about you?'

'I still catch up with Ben and Radar sometimes.'

'Who?'

That's right, Quentin thinks. Margot never officially met Ben or Radar, at least not in any memorable context. 'They're my best friends. They actually helped me decipher all your clues and they came with me on the road trip to find you. Ben actually convinced me to go after you. If it wasn't for him I would probably have done the classic Quentin move of nothing.'

Margot is nodding her head but he can tell she is only half listening. He follows her eyes and in the distance a group of young prep guys are walking their way. He knows she is wondering whether they are going to recognize her by how her muscles tighten like a wild animal, fight or flight.

'Margot.'

He breaks whatever spell she had fallen under and she turns back to him. 'Sorry. I just don't want our day together to be ruined by anything.' Like cocaine in the glove box, Quentin thinks before he can stop himself. 'And if I have to get into my car and go into hiding because some idiot prep boy calls the paparazzi on me, that will count in my book as a ruined day. Honestly Q, I wish time and space could transcend back to a time where it was you and I against the world.'

As the guys approach Quentin leans over and kisses her, blocking her face from their view. He slips a hand up to cup her cheek as her hair falls like a curtain around them and they stay like that until the small group had passed. He still revels at how it feels to kiss her, the taste of her lips under his own. Quentin pulls back, albeit unwillingly, and resumes his position opposite her once the boys had moved a safe distance away.

'Thank you.'

'Don't mention it,' he drinks some cola down. 'Honestly, if you ever need me to kiss you to hide your identity, just give me a nod.'

She smiles at him and its reward enough. 'Ben and Radar? What are they like?'

'Radar's parents got into the Guinness Book of World Records for having the largest collection of Black Santa's.' Quentin answers as if that simple sentence explains everything there is to know about Radar.

'Seriously?' Margot whips out her phone and starts tapping at the screen. 'Is that Radar?' she holds the phone out to Quentin. It's a photo of his parents receiving their official certificate. They got the word almost one year ago that they had finally been awarded the record. His father and mother's faces are nothing short of ecstatic and standing between them is Radar, his expression devoid of any emotion and hidden between his thick framed glasses. He was holding a black Santa figurine in his hands. 'I can see he was really happy about it.'

'Oh yeah. Black Santa's were a real turn on for the high school girls.'

'And Ben?'

'Ben is…' Quentin pauses as his brain racks through words to describe his friend. 'He's…'

'Wow, I really want to meet this guy. You have painted such a vivid picture of him.'

'You know, you should really try a little stand up comedy act, I think you would do really well.'

She rolls her eyes at him.

Quentin screws up the rubbish from his burger and stuffed it inside the paper bag it came in. 'I thought for sure Jase and Becca Worthington would have tried to get back in touch with you and freeload off your success somehow.'

'They got married?' She couldn't hide her shock. 'Now I feel kind of bad about the whole naked picture, fish in the cupboard thing. Guess I was standing in the way of true love.'

'Well, true love and an accidental pregnancy.'

Margot laughs, 'Nothing spells out I love you like a shotgun wedding to a pregnant teenager.'

'What about your parents? And Ruthie?' It was a landmine question. He can almost visibly see Margot shut herself up and erect walls up around her emotions. Her green eyes darken and she turns away from him.

'Pass.'

'What about if I make it one of my Fact or Fiction questions? You have to answer those.' He knows why he is pushing for an answer despite how clearly she didn't want to talk about it. It would give him more insight into her. It would give him more insight into why there is a snap lock bag full of white powder in her glove box.

'And you are willing to use up one of your eleven precious questions?'

'Absolutely.'

Her eyes are defiant but she answers gamely, 'my asshole parents hit me up a few times a year for a cushy little hand out usually accompanied by the words, it's the least you can do after all the crap you put us through, Margot. They didn't give a damn about contacting me when I was in Agloe living off scraps and sleeping in an abandoned motorhome. As soon as I booked my first big gig, suddenly they are back in the picture. My phone starts buzzing and my mother asks how I've been like she actually gives a fuck for the first time in her life. It's the tired age old story I guess.'

There is a dull ache in the pit of Quentin's stomach as he listens to her talk. He had always known her parents weren't going to win any awards but he didn't know the extent of what Margot grew up with. 'And what about Ruthie?'

A small smile plays over Margot's lips as she answers, 'I talk to her almost every week. I would take her with me in a second if my life had any semblance of stability. But this world is no place for fifteen year old girl.' Quentin thinks back to the coke sitting one foot from him and can't help but agree. 'Besides that, my parents tolerate her a lot more than they did me. She is far less a pain in the ass. And Ruthie knows the second she turns eighteen that my door is always open.'

'That's nice. You and Ruthie always had a close relationship.'

Margot bumps a shoulder to his. 'She is one of my two favorite people in this world.' She slid from the bonnet onto the ground and brushed the crumbs from her jeans. Across the park Quentin sees a bus pull up and people start disembarking in droves. It must be some tourist thing but he sees Margot's heckles go up once more. 'Q, we may have to lay low in the Margot mobile until this group moves on,' she grabs his hand and tugs him to the Pontiac's back seat where the windows are tinted dark.

'Do you ever get tired of this?'

'What? Hiding out like a criminal? Course not, this is what I live for.'

'I'm serious Margot. I've only been with you for half a day and I'm tired of it. Is fame really worth losing the ability to walk around unnoticed and anonymous.'

She looks at him and a long moment passes before she answers, 'Nothing is worth losing your privacy. Kids are hardwired these days to believe they are nobody until everybody notices them. Anonymity is a gift and once you lose it, it's gone forever. They should have that as a warning.'

Sometimes, well, a lot of times, Margot spoke with such eloquence and understanding that she didn't seem like she was born in the right era. Even back when they were eighteen and outside the SunTrust Centre, she spoke about one pausing to reflect on ones achievements. He didn't know a lot of eighteen year old kids who talked like that.

'Goddamit, they are coming closer,' Margot grumbles under her breath.

Quentin clears his throat. 'You know, my offer for stealthy hidden kisses still stands.'

She raises an eyebrow and gives him a nod of approval. 'Very forward of you Q. It's kind of sexy,' before she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him to her.

Fence Number Three for Quentin: Kissing Margot Roth Speigelman.

He had kissed or been kissed by four different girls in his lifetime. Considering his introverted nature that was pretty impressive in his book.

The first was his ex girlfriend Suzie Chung. It was a relatively painful memory for him to relive. They had been in the band room together and Quentin had been wondering for a good hour whether they were on a date or not and wondering if she was wondering the same thing and wondering what even constituted a date between school kids anyway. She had been playing him a piece of music on her cello which might have sounded romantic if it hadn't been a practicing fifteen year old cellist and an awkward fifteen year old Quentin who frankly hated the sound of a cello when it was being played well. In any case, after a mildly screechy rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, he had plucked up the courage to make his move. Except when he leant over to kiss her Suzie hadn't been expecting it and the bow of her cello swung back and hit him in the throat.

Feeling incredibly guilty she apologized profusely and after his coughing fit had finished she had kissed him. So his first kiss could more or less be put down as a pity kiss. It still didn't stop him from calling up Ben and Radar and filling them in though.

Amanda Kate was a girl he had been casually flirting with while they worked at the bookstore together. She was pretty in that valedictorian kind of way. In fact, thinking about it, she was almost the female version of Quentin himself.

While they were locking up the bookstore she had kissed him.

Surprised, he didn't have time to react. She turned and left and he hasn't seen her since so he imagines she might have been disappointed by his performance.

Lacey was the third girl he had ever kissed. She kissed how she looked, flirty, fun and confident. Someone who had already suffered through the slobbers and the tongue drillers until they could comfortably negotiate another's mouth without any awkward biting or noises. A thoroughly pleasant experience.

And then there was Margot.

Sprawled together in the back of her Pontiac, Quentin was currently experiencing sensory overload. The leather of the car seats made the soft warmth of her skin echo and the smell of her hair was making him woozy. Her lips and her tongue should be awarded medals in performance.

He tries to keep up with her but he was out of moves and she was just getting started. It wasn't because he was hopelessly pathetically in love with her, she was just that brilliant at it.

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