The Girl Who Lives and The Boy Who Gives.

Chapter Five

A/N: Can we just take a moment to talk about Twenty One Pilots and 5H's performances at the AMA's last night? Those performances were literally the best part of my entire year. I mean besides TGWSATBWM REACHING 800,000 VIEWS!! I honestly love all of you guys the most, thanks so much for reading the crap I right. 

Scott's P.O.V

"Scott," my Dad says when I reach the booth that they're sitting at. "Why is your shirt all wet?"

I sigh as I look down at the giant stain on the front of my shirt. I'm already starting to feel all sticky. I shrug at him and look over at Carter who's leaning back in his seat with a small but noticeable smirk on his face. 

"Someone bumped into me," I say glaring at him. All he does is give me a cheesy smile back. 

"Well c'mon then," Abby says sliding out of the booth. "Let's get you cleaned up before you start smelling like whatever that is on your shirt."

"Do you really need to go with him?" Carter asks, the earlier smile that he had on his face now dropping. "He's a big boy now isn't he? I'm sure he can clean himself up on his own."

"No," Abby says completely serious while staring at the giant stain on my shirt. "If I let him do it on his own he'll never get that stain out."

"I'd like to think that he's completely capable of getting a stain out," Carter says rolling his eyes. 

"I wish I could think that too," Abby says. "But he's not."

She knows me so well. 

She takes my hand and guides me towards the bathrooms. I look back and smirk at Carter as he narrows his eyes at me. But while I'm paying more attention to him than where I'm going I end up bumping into someone and another drink is being spilled onto my poor shirt.

"Scott," Abby groans as the guy that I bumped into mumbles a string of curse words before stumbling away from us. Abby grabs my hand again and continues walking. "Pay attention."

I do pay attention as we walk this time and damn I have to say that Abby sure does have a nice ass. I should've never let her wear that dress out in public it does wonders for her. No wonder everyone in here is openly staring at her. 

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when we stop in front of the woman's restroom. I raise my eyebrows at her as she grabs the handle.

"Do you have to use the bathroom first or something?" I ask her and she tilts her head at me in confusion. 

"No..." she drags out the word. "We're going to clean you up."

"Not in there we aren't."

"Well we aren't going into the men's bathrooms."

"I'm not going into the woman's," I cross my arms over each other.