The morning after the piercing session, Kate woke up still curled against Anthony's shoulder. In the gray Seattle dawn filtering through their window, she could study his face without him knowing—the sharp angles, the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, the small scar above his left eyebrow that she'd never asked about.
"You're staring," he mumbled without opening his eyes.
"Am not," she whispered back, but she didn't move away.
"Are too. I can feel it. It's very intense for seven in the morning."
Kate laughed softly. "Sorry. You just look so peaceful when you're asleep."
Anthony opened one eye. "As opposed to my usual 'angry at the world' aesthetic?"
"More like your 'carrying the weight of the world' aesthetic."
Something shifted in his expression. "Maybe I don't have to carry it all by myself anymore."
The words hung between them, fragile and new. Kate reached out to trace the scar above his eyebrow with one gentle finger.
"How'd you get this?"
"Walked into a door when I was twelve," he said, then caught her skeptical look. "Okay, fine. My dad threw a bottle and I ducked wrong. Happy?"
"No," Kate said simply. "I'm not happy that happened to you."
Anthony studied her face—the genuine concern in her brown eyes, the way her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, the small freckle just above her lip that he'd been trying not to stare at for weeks.
"Kate?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I might be falling for you."
The confession came out raw and unplanned, teenage honesty with no filter. Kate's breath caught.
"Might be?" she asked softly.
"Definitely am," he corrected, and then she was kissing him, soft and sweet and tasting like the strawberry lip balm she always wore.
When they broke apart, Anthony rested his forehead against hers. "I've never..."
"Me neither," Kate whispered. "We'll figure it out together."
Around them, their found family was slowly waking up. Charlie was touching his new piercings gingerly, Jon hovering nearby with unnecessary concern. Chelsea was braiding Venus's hair while Tara organized their few possessions with military precision.
"Morning, lovebirds," Venus called softly, careful not to wake the others in the building.
Anthony flushed red, but Kate just smiled. "Morning."
Over the next few weeks, they fell into new rhythms. Anthony and Kate became inseparable, her gentle nature balancing his intensity while his protective instincts gave her confidence she'd never had. Charlie and Jon's relationship deepened through shared silences and small gestures—Charlie bringing Jon coffee exactly how he liked it, Jon letting Charlie listen to his music, both of them learning that love could be quiet and steady instead of dramatic and consuming.
But Casa de Chaos wasn't meant to last forever.
---
**Four Months Later**
"I can't believe you actually did it," Charlie said, running his hand along the side of the powder blue 1989 Volkswagen Vanagon that now sat in the parking lot behind Pike Place Market.
Venus grinned, her gyaru aesthetic now adapted for Seattle practicality—still bold and beautiful, but with waterproof mascara and actual rain boots. "Turns out I'm really good at selling vintage clothes online. Who knew?"
"And I may have liquidated my entire college fund," Tara added, looking remarkably unbothered by this fact. Her preppy exterior had evolved too, trading pearls for practical layers and rigid perfection for something softer.
"You sold your parents' expectations and bought us freedom," Kate said, admiring the van's spacious interior. "That's poetry."
The van was a masterpiece of efficient living. Venus and Tara had spent weeks planning the conversion: a fold-out bed in the back, storage compartments built into every available space, a small camping stove, and even a tiny sink with a gravity-fed water system.
"It's like a very small, mobile apartment," Jon observed, his dimple piercings catching the afternoon light. Four months of actually eating regularly and sleeping safely had transformed him from a haunted waif into someone who might actually believe he deserved good things.
"It's perfect," Anthony said, and Kate squeezed his hand. At nearly sixteen now, he'd grown three inches and gained the kind of confidence that came from having people who chose to love him.
Chelsea examined the van's engine with the expertise she'd gained from Riot, who'd been teaching her mechanics in exchange for help with her sustainable farming project. "Should get decent mileage. Where are we thinking of going first?"
"South," Charlie said immediately. "I'm tired of rain."
"California?" Tara suggested. "I've always wanted to see the redwoods."
"Road trip!" Akira appeared seemingly from nowhere, as was her way. "I'm so jealous. Living the nomad dream while I'm stuck here pretending to be a responsible adult."
"You could come with us," Venus offered.
"Tempting, but someone needs to keep Casa de Chaos from burning down. Plus, I've got that job at the vintage shop now, and they actually pay me in real money instead of expired sushi."
That evening, they gathered one last time in their old room for a farewell dinner. The other squat residents had pitched in—Riot brought actually edible soup, Ink played guitar, and someone had even managed to acquire a cake that only slightly resembled a birthday cake from three weeks ago.
"Speech!" Riot called out as they finished eating.
"I'm not good at speeches," Charlie protested, but he stood up anyway. "I guess... four months ago, we were all running from something. Different things, but we were all running. And now..."
"Now we're running toward something," Jon finished softly.
"Exactly. We found each other, and we found ourselves, and now we get to figure out what comes next."
"Together," Kate added, Anthony's arm around her waist.
"Always together," Chelsea agreed, speaking for all seven of them.
Later, as they loaded their few possessions into the van, there were tears and promises to stay in touch and the kind of hugs that happen when you know everything is about to change again.
"Take care of each other," Akira said, hugging each of them in turn. "And send postcards. Real ones, not just Instagram posts."
"We will," Venus promised.
As they piled into the van—Charlie driving, Jon riding shotgun, the others arranging themselves in the back—Seattle spread out below them like a constellation of possibilities.
"So," Tara said as they pulled onto I-5 South, "where exactly are we going?"
"Wherever the road takes us," Anthony said, Kate's head on his shoulder.
"That's either very zen or completely irresponsible," Chelsea observed.
"Why not both?" Charlie grinned, catching Jon's eye in the rearview mirror.
Behind them, the Space Needle disappeared into the distance, along with Casa de Chaos and their first taste of independence. Ahead of them, Highway 101 stretched toward California and the unknown.
In the back of the van, Kate was teaching Anthony how to braid friendship bracelets while Venus and Tara planned their route on a paper map, refusing to trust GPS for something this important. Chelsea had claimed the spot behind Charlie's seat, occasionally reaching forward to adjust the radio or steal his coffee.
"Hey Jon?" Charlie said as they passed through Olympia.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for running away with me."
Jon smiled—a real smile that showed off his dimples and made Charlie's heart do things that would have terrified him six months ago. "Thanks for letting me."
The van hummed south through the Washington darkness, carrying seven teenagers who'd learned that family isn't always about blood, that home isn't always a place, and that sometimes the best thing you can do is run away—as long as you're running toward something better.