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copyright 2012 by Tiffany King

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

“There are moments in everyone’s life that define the type of person you are, and the person you will become,” or so my dad always says—used to say, I corrected myself, kicking at the pile of discarded clothes at my feet. Ugh, how do you pick the right outfit to wear to your own father’s funeral? The words clanked through my head like a roller coaster ratcheting up the track. This was a decision I could use my mother’s help with, but she had spent the past few days adrift in a medicated stupor. She collapsed at the hospital after the no-nonsense surgeon came into the waiting room, informing us that the internal bleeding from the accident was too extensive. His words instantly snuffed out all the hope and optimism we had been clinging to, and in one life changing-moment, my father was gone.

I could ask my grandma for help, but I couldn’t handle the way her eyes swam with tears when she looked at me. As it was, I already felt like I was hanging on to a sinking life preserver, without her dragging me down farther. Her pain was understandable. My father had been her only son. I considered asking my Aunt Donna since she stoically refused to cry, which would have been refreshing amidst the sea of tears that surrounded me, but even she had finally broken down.

Finally giving up, I pulled out the black eyelet ankle length skirt my mom and dad bought me when they spent their twentieth anniversary in Spain the previous year. The skirt brought back bittersweet memories for me. I was jealous when they planned their vacation abroad without me, but my dad pacified me by promising a month-long excursion across Europe once I graduated. That was my father. I could act like a jerk, but I was still daddy’s little girl. I swiped at the hot tears that trailed down my cheek, wishing I could somehow go back in time and take that moment back. There would be no take-backs, though. No second chances and no more plans for the future, only a yesterday full of memories. Gathering my wits before the sobs could over take me, I pulled on a black camisole and my favorite black loose weave sweater. My make-up, I kept minimal, not feeling up to putting in the effort I usually spent on my appearance. My dad would have been pleased. He had preferred the “au naturel” look, as he called it, always telling me, “You’re beautiful enough without all the extra junk.” My friends, on the other hand, would be horrified, but I couldn’t find the will to care. There were so many other important things that required my attention.

First and foremost being my little sister, Megan.

Megan had been a surprise addition to our family four years ago. I was twelve, almost thirteen, when my parents sat me down with the news that my mom was pregnant, that they had been trying for years to give me a sibling. New to the idea of where babies came from, I remember being appropriately grossed out at their phrasing of “trying for years.” Once my gag factor was under control, I was actually excited at the idea of having a real-life dress-up doll. That novelty was short lived though. After a few years, I realized that babies really didn’t do much and high school began to consume my life anyway. Megan proved to be a cute baby and an even more adorable toddler, but friends, cheerleading, and my new fascination with boys consumed my every waking moment. Megan would toddle around behind me, chanting my name in her cute little lisp as I fluttered around the house always on my way out the door. Except for the mandatory Friday family nights, which my parents insisted on, during which, I spent the majority of the time texting my friends, I had barely interacted with Megan over the last year. I regretted every single one of those texts now, yearning for just one more family Friday night.

As I left my room, I could hear the low mumble of my aunts talking while my grandma sobbed quietly behind the closed door of her guest room. I headed toward my parents suite and paused outside the door, knocking gently before entering. My mom was curled up on the side of the bed that my dad used to occupy. Her eyes were wide open and she was fully dressed, but she stared blankly into space, looking more lost than I had ever seen her. She was clutching my dad’s favorite shirt between her hands. The entire room was filled with reminders of her former best friend and true love: A closet filled with clothes, the remote control that sat on his nightstand because he loved to watch TV while lying in bed, and the familiar smell of his favorite cologne that still filled the room, all of which pinched my heart as I perched on the bed beside her. I reached over and gently grabbed onto her hand, yearning for her reassurance that everything would be alright, but her hand remained nothing more than a dead fish in mine.

“Are you going to get Megan ready?” I asked.

She finally pulled her eyes from the blank spot beyond, focusing on my face. Her body began to shake slightly as silent sobs turned to tears welling up in her eyes. Her grief caused my own pain to rear its ugly head. I jumped to my feet, not wanting to be sucked in. Someone had to remain strong here.

“Never mind, I got it,” I mumbled, exiting the room before the despair that growled deep in my stomach could claw its way out.

Megan’s room was several doors down the hall from mine. When she was three, Megan begged my parents for the room directly across from mine, but I balked at the idea of having her so close, feeling she would cramp my style. Yet another decision I wish I could retract.

Walking into Megan’s room was like stepping into the ultimate princess getaway. My parents let her re-do her bedroom on her fourth birthday. All her baby stuff was stored away and her room was completely redesigned to celebrate her new “big girl” status. The room was dressed in plush purple carpeting and soft pink walls adorned with pictures of fairies and princesses, and even her very own “Mirror Mirror on the Wall.” She bought her a beautiful sleigh bed made of mahogany with a matching wardrobe and highboy dresser, but what really brought it all together was an elaborate mural of a castle and its grounds decorating the eastern wall of the room. Megan absolutely squealed with delight when she saw it the first time, completely forgetting about her previous desire to inhabit the room closest to mine.

She was still in her nightgown when I entered, sitting in her reading corner with one of her favorite chapter books resting on her narrow knees. Megan was gifted in reading, devouring anything she could get her hands on and could already read at a fifth-grade level. Keeping her in age appropriate books proved to be a challenge. The shelves in her room overflowed with books that I could remember reading when I was much older.

“Hey, Peanut,” I said, sinking onto the foot of the velvet plum-colored chaise lounge were she perched.

Her slender shoulders stiffened at my words, but her gaze remained fixated on the pages in front of her. I cringed at the glaring dark bruise on her forehead and her white plaster encased arm, all evidence of the traumatic experience she had been through. The hospital could have at least given her pink or some other colored cast.

“It’s time to get ready,” I said, stroking her hair.

She acknowledged my words by closing her book and studying me with solemn eyes.

“Do you know what today is?” I asked quietly.

She nodded without speaking.

Megan hadn’t uttered a word since the accident, but no one has seemed to notice except me. I missed her cute little lisp when she called me by a nickname she had coined for me when she was younger. She couldn’t say Kassandra, so I became Kass, Kass to all the members of my family.

“Are you hungry, Peanut?” I asked as I pulled a light pink dress over her head.

She shook her head ever so slightly.

“Are you sure? Not even a peanut butter and strawberry sandwich?” I enticed, naming one of her favorite treats. Her passion for peanut butter was a longstanding joke in our family and was how she had gained her nickname.

She shook her head again.

“What about an ice cream sundae with melted peanut butter on top?” I said, willing to offer anything to get her to come out of her shell.

She remained silent and I sighed with resignation.

“You have to eat, Peanut,” I said, running a brush through her long golden locks before fixing it into a French braid down her back the way she liked. I helped her strap on her black Mary Janes and grasped her small hand as we left the room together.

The rest of my family was gathered uncomfortably in the living room when we entered. My Aunt Donna stood tall, although pale beside my sobbing grandma, while my Aunt Karen kept an arm firmly wrapped around my mom’s shoulders. I wanted to shield Megan from the pain that saturated the room, to flee to a happier place and a happier time, but those days were over. Instead, I scooped her up in my arms, marveling at how light she was. She took after my mom, having a more delicate bone structure, while I had the solid frame of my father.

“The limo is here,” my Aunt Donna said, helping my grandma to her feet. My mom rose at her words and followed behind them, still clutching my dad’s t-shirt in her hands. Megan watched them file solemnly out of the room ahead of us.

“It’s okay, Peanut. We can do this,” I said, pulling her more snugly into my arms.

I set her down as we neared the oversized vehicle parked outside the house. She climbed into the car and onto her booster seat that the limo driver had fastened to one of the long bench seats inside. I waited for my mom to methodically strap her in like she always had before, but she remained fixated on a spot out the window and beyond my line of vision. Sighing, I reached over and buckled Megan myself, pulling the belt tight to make sure it was securely fastened like I had seen my parents do hundreds of times. It had been their diligence to safety that saved Megan’s life in the accident when my dad had slammed into the telephone pole.

The ride to the cemetery was slow and silent as we made our way through town, passing the brightly-colored store-fronts and droves of people strolling around the sidewalks. To them, this was just another normal day. We finally reached Shady Oaks Cemetery, and all I could think was how this place felt like it was mocking me. It was beautifully inviting with lush grass, perfectly manicured trees, and freshly bloomed flowers everywhere, but there was certainly nothing beautiful about coming here. The driver turned smoothly into the graveyard, pulling up slowly to the spot where we would say our final goodbyes. The one thing that my mom and grandma had agreed on was that my father would have hated the whole church funeral thing, so they settled on a graveside service. I could see the seats under the oversized maroon tent were filled with mourners with many more people standing in rows behind them. The kind limo driver helped Megan and me climb out first and all eyes from the tent focused on us. I felt myself flush slightly at the attention I was receiving, which was unusual because I had spent my life thriving on the attention of others. Whether at dance recitals from my younger years or cheerleading as I got older, I was used to hundreds of students cheering for me as I effortlessly tumbled through complicated routines with my parents watching proudly from the stands. I had always been the envy of most of the student body and I liked it that way.

This attention though was different. It oozed with pity and empathy combined with a mix of relief that it wasn’t them in our shoes. I wanted to be anywhere but here, and for a brief moment, I considered fleeing the scene. That is, until Megan’s tiny hand tightened around the three fingers she was gripping on my right hand. I couldn’t leave her here. When I looked down to see her lower lip trembling, I pulled her closer against my hip as we slowly made our way to the seats reserved for family members.

The minster started talking when we were seated. Quiet sobbing filled the air as he droned on about all my father’s attributes. My father was a pillar of our community, well loved by all, but none of them knew what truly made him special. Like the way he made “Pancake Sunday” a special event each week by adding different goodies to the pancake batter to mix things up. Or the way he would act like a rock star when he played Rockband with Megan. They would always beg me to play with them, but I always seemed to have something to do, like paint my nails or text a friend, or some other activity that now seemed meaningless in comparison.

I was brought back to reality as my Aunt Donna stepped up to the microphone to speak. How ironic that my dad’s least favorite relative would give his eulogy. He had joked for years about the stick up his sister’s ass and yet, there she was, probably because she was one of the only dry eyes here. Grandma had asked me if I wanted to say something, but I just didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of sharing my now precious memories with anyone else. Besides, would they really want to hear what I had to say if they knew all of this was my fault?

I would give anything to go back to the day that changed everything. Now, my life was filled with If onlys…If only I hadn’t picked a fight over my car…If only I hadn’t acted slow and sullen to make a point….If only I had picked any other day to be a whiny bitch, everything would be different. We would have been on time and the crazy asshole behind my dad and Megan would have picked another car to take out his road rage on!

“This was my fault,” I thought bleakly as I scanned the attendees, searching for a break in the crowd. My eyes settled on a lone figure leaning against a tree twenty feet from where I sat. Our eyes locked and bile rose in my throat.

This may be my fault, but it was equally his.

I shouldn’t have come, I thought. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. Something just pulled me to the funeral. This should be their time, I know I don’t belong. The family would probably freak if they noticed me and yet, here I am, like an idiot.

I scanned the perimeter, passing over the bowed heads and shaking shoulders of the mourners, searching for my whole reason for being here. Finally, after a moment, my eyes settled on her and my palms began to sweat. Even shrouded in her grief, she looked heartbreakingly beautiful.

A week ago she wasn’t even on my radar. There was a definite pecking order at our school, and our crowds just never mixed. I would have never given her a second thought until my father had irreversibly changed all of our lives.

I remember sitting on the couch with my aunt watching the news coverage as Kassandra led her distraught mother and pale younger sister from the hospital. My dad’s road rage had made us national news. The media happily gobbled up the heartbreaking tale of how one man treacherously ran an innocent driver off the road in a drunken rage. My eyes zeroed in on Kassandra. I took in her every feature as she bravely stepped between her family and the reporters, all demanding to know how they felt about what my father had done. She ignored their shouting, refusing to take part in the frenzy. The pain on her face was all too real, even through the TV.

Now, here I was, watching from a distance like some kind of stalker as she gripped her younger sister’s hand. My whole intention was to stay out of site, which backfired when her eyes met mine. I felt like I had been sucker punched in the gut. Her hatred was unmistakable.

This was my fault.

That son of a bitch, how dare he show up! I tore my gaze from his and stared blankly at my aunt as she finished up her eulogy. By the intense sobbing around me, it was clear her words had impacted everyone. The minister finished the procession shortly after and my mom’s whole body shook as we filed past my father’s casket to say our final goodbyes. I put my arm around her with my own tears falling hot and fast as the finality of the moment settled in. As much as I had yearned for this to be over, I felt panicked at the thought of leaving my father behind.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, as family and friends filed through the house paying their last respects. My mom escaped to her room the moment we entered the house and I watched her retreating back with envy. I wanted to escape. I yearned to be around my friends, laughing and joking and pretending all of this was just some nightmare, but I plastered a small painful smile on my face and endured every hug that came my way. The mood was somber, with everyone sitting around sharing stories about my father. My grandmother sat on the couch with very little to say, while my Aunts sat close by, lending her the comfort she needed. I’m sure this was all just everyone’s way of coping, but each story just made me miss him more. Finally, I just couldn’t take anymore and had to get out of there before I screamed.

I stumbled down the hallway, swiping tears from my cheeks as the sobs ripped painfully through my throat. Sinking onto my bed, I pulled my comforter over my head to leave the world behind. I heard my door open quietly and held my breath, hoping it was my mom. I missed her support and wanted my shift of being the adult to be over. My mattress dipped down slightly and I felt a small body squirm under the comforter with me. My heart broke as Megan snuggled her small body up to me, offering the only comfort she could. It felt like we were stranded on our own deserted island. I returned her comfort, pulling her tightly into my arms. In a way, we had lost both of our parents.

The days following my dad’s funeral tumbled along in a painful blur as we learned to cope with the new direction our lives were on. Three days after the funeral, my grandma and aunts boarded a plane to head back home. I was relieved to see them go, anxious to have our space back to ourselves. Hopefully, their departure would bring mom out of her shell. She’d never really gotten along well with my grandma over the years. The animosity stemmed from comments my grandma had made years ago about my father marrying beneath him. She was convinced my father would someday realize his mistake. What she’d always been too blind to see was just how in love my parents were.

Unfortunately, my hopes that mom would snap back to normal didn't materialize. She’d spend hours staring off into space with tears streaking down her cheeks. For the most part, she was as non-talkative as Megan, but would at least answer direct questions. By day five of being on our own, the silence began to wear on my nerves and the walls felt like they were caving in on me. I nearly wept with relief when my best friend Lacey called to ask if she could come over. I was desperate to have someone I could talk to that would sympathize with my pain.

Lacey and I headed up to my room as soon as she arrived. I closed my door and sank down on my bed ready to unload all my hurt.

“How are you doing?” she asked, giving me the opening I needed.

“Not good,” I said as tears filled my eyes. “My mom walks around the house like a zombie wearing my dad’s old t-shirts, and Megan still hasn’t said a word since the accident.”

“Ugh, that’s morbid,” Lacey said, shuddering.

“Well, I’m sure it’s normal,” I said, feeling the need to defend them even though I was just venting.

“Maybe your mom should get like some Valium or something.”

“She doesn’t need medication,” I said sharply, offended by her condescending tone.

“I’m just saying, when my uncle died last year, my aunt got some medication so she wouldn’t be all like doom and gloom or whatever,” Lacey said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Sooo, Jim’s been a total dick this week,” she added, shifting gears. “I’m thinking it’s time to kick him to the curb. His whole self-absorbed thing is way annoying. I mean seriously, there’s more to life than constantly worrying about some Ivy League school you want to go to, right?"

I looked at her in shock, wondering if she was serious. Here I was pouring my guts out and she wants to talk about freaking Jim? How could she be so superficial at a time like this?

Lacey seemed oblivious to my shock as she continued to rant more about Jim and then about some sophomore that tried to sit in the spot I normally inhabited at school during lunch, like I would give a crap about that right now. I found myself shutting down listening to her meaningless tirade. My hurt cloaked me like a blanket as the harsh reality that I had no one I could lean on came crashing down on me.

Lacey stayed for an hour until it was obvious my sullen attitude was grating on her nerves. She flounced down the stairs to the front door and out to her waiting red convertible. The glimpse of her car as she swung the door closed behind her only added to my anguish. Just a week and a half ago I was convinced I deserved a car like that. As the engine purred to life, I was reminded of the hateful words I had thrown at my dad on that last awful day. I pitched a fit because I was sick of driving the sensible car my parents had bought me for my sixteenth birthday, feeling I deserved something hot and sporty like some of my friends drove.

“It’s not like you don’t make enough money,” I pouted as my dad drove me to school.

“Kassandra, it’s not the money. It’s your safety,” he answered for the hundredth time, sighing at my tone.

“Whatever, you’re just trying to make me a social leper,” I grumbled, shooting a glare back at Megan in her car seat. She swung her dangling feet, making them lightly kick the back of my seat with each forward motion. “Stop kicking my seat, Megan,” I said, taking my frustration out on her. I felt a small twinge of guilt when her pretty blue eyes had filled with unshed tears.

“Try not to kick her seat, okay, Peanut?” My dad had said, looking at her in the rearview mirror. “Take it easy, okay?” he said, looking at me disappointedly.

“Whatever, take her side.”

“We’re not trying to ruin your social life, Kassandra. We just don’t feel like you’re living up to your full potential,” he answered, ignoring my comment.

“Oh right, you just don’t like my friends.”

“Your friends are fine, but…What the heck is that guy’s problem?” he said looking in the rearview mirror.

I pulled myself from the painful memories, but I couldn't erase them from running like a slide show in my head. I was absolutely horrible that day, climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind me without saying goodbye.

Aunt Linda was waiting for me when I returned from the funeral and did not look pleased.

“Where have you been?” she asked, taking in my white button-down shirt and my only pair of slacks.

I debated ignoring her. By her tone it was obvious she already knew the answer to her question.

“I went to the funeral.”

“Why? Why would you do that? Haven’t we already done enough harm to that family?”

“No one saw me,” I lied, heading down the hall to my new room.

“Well, I hope not. Can you imagine the repercussions if the media caught wind of it?” she asked, following me down the hall.

“I know,” I said, aggravated at having my stupid actions shoved back in my face. I couldn’t explain to her why I felt the need to go. How I was dying to know if Kassandra was really as strong as she had seemed when we saw her on the news.

I closed my bedroom door firmly in my aunt’s face and sank onto the floral comforter that covered my new bed. When Aunt Linda took me in she told me to change the room however I wanted, to make it my own, but it felt wrong to reap the benefits of my father’s actions. So, I left all my possessions behind when I vacated the house I had shared with my father, taking only my clothes and the one framed picture we had of my mother. Leaving my stuff behind seemed like a small price to pay in light of what my dad had done to the Cole family.

I yanked off my formal duds and changed into a pair of ratty jeans and my favorite t-shirt proclaiming that I would rather be a zombie killer than zombie bait. I leaned back against the padded headboard and pulled out one of my only possessions, my iPod. I had been tempted to leave that behind too, but got the shakes thinking about leaving behind my only means of escape.

The music blared through my ear-buds as I finally allowed myself the luxury to think about Kassandra. It was morbid to think about how she had looked at her own father’s funeral, but I couldn’t help remembering how her hair shined in the sunlight or how creamy her skin looked. Even when she had looked at me like she wanted to kill me, I couldn't control the pull I felt for her. I wanted to erase her sadness, but I knew that would never happen since her unhappiness was my fault.

Two weeks after my father’s funeral, Mrs. Leighton, my counselor from school called, inquiring about my return. I tried to hand off the phone to my mom so she could speak with her, but she shook her head and headed to her room. I sighed at her retreating backside and told Mrs. Leighton my mom was in the shower, but that I would be returning back to school in a couple of days.

“Make sure you come in and see me,” she said in a sweet voice.

“I will,” I lied, hanging up the phone. Mrs. Leighton oozed niceness, but the thought of opening up to her made me cringe. After my disastrous afternoon with Lacey, I had quickly come to realize that no one could possibly understand where I was coming from.

I headed down the hallway so I could discuss my return to school with my mom.

“Mom?” I asked, lightly pushing the door open when she didn’t respond to my knock.

“Hmmm?” she asked from her side of the bed where she was curled up.

“I have to go back to school on Thursday,” I said, sinking down on the mattress next to her.

“Okay,” she said listlessly.

“What are we going to do with Peanut?” I asked.

“She can go to her school,” my mom answered, looking at me, but not completely focusing on my face.

“Her gymnastics school?” I asked confused. “Will they let her go all five days?”

She shrugged one of her shoulders.

I sighed, trying not to let my impatience show. “Are you going to call and check?”

“I can’t. They’re bound to ask about your dad, and I just can’t handle that right now,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I know Mom,” I said, patting her hand. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you,” she said in a cracking voice.

“Why don’t you get a little sleep,” I said, taking in the dark circles under her eyes that marred her pale face. I knew she wasn’t sleeping since I could hear her rattling through the house at all hours of the night.

“It’s just too hard to sleep without him there.”

“I know Mom,” I said, feeling my own eyes fill with tears. “Why don’t you try to nap in one of the guest rooms?” I added, tugging on her hand so she would stand up.

She followed meekly from the room with exhaustion spurring her on. I settled her in the guest room directly across from mine, and she was out the instant her head hit the pillow. I watched her sleep for several minutes thinking about how my father's heart would break to see her so sad.

Once I was positive she was fast asleep, I covered her with one of the quilts that hung from maple rods my father had hung from the walls of the room and softly closed the door behind me. I found Megan waiting silently for me in the hallway.

“Hey, Peanut, are you hungry?” I asked, swiping the last tears from my cheek, hoping she had missed them.

She nodded her head, looking beyond me at the closed door where my mom rested.

“Mom’s going to sleep in there for a while. Hey, let’s go get some lunch,” I said leading her down to the kitchen.

She trailed behind my every step as I pulled out one of the endless casseroles from our oversized stainless steel freezer and set it out on the counter so it could thaw for dinner. Megan held the fridge door open while I pulled out the sandwich fixings for our lunch. I tried to entice her to talk while I assembled two towering sandwiches for us.

“So guess what?” I asked, slathering ranch on my sandwich.

She looked at me silently, waiting for me to elaborate.

“You get to go to school,” I said, injecting excitement into my voice. A month ago when school had started, my words would have had her squealing with joy. She begged my parents for months to let her to go to school like me, but my mom told her she would miss her too much if she were gone all day. They had compromised by signing her up for a morning gymnastics class, twice a week. Megan thrived in her class and loved to share her tumbling stories with us at the dinner table. She’d been on her way to her Tuesday class when the accident happened. I was left with the task of stripping her out of her ruined leotard. I remember the rust-colored stains as I stripped her down to her cute little panties with the day of the week etched across the bottom. A kind nurse had disposed of the leotard for me as I dressed Megan in cheap pajamas the hospital had provided for us.

“I’m thinking maybe I’ll call the school your friend Mandy goes to,” I said, dragging my thoughts to the present. “Would you like that, Peanut?”

She looked at me critically, wise beyond her years. She’d always been insanely smart and I could tell that she saw through my false cheerfulness. “Mom just needs to figure things out. Okay?” I said, dropping down on my knees so I could cup her chin. “She still loves you, she just misses Dad.”

She nodded. I leaned my head forward until our foreheads touched. “You’ve got me, Peanut. I’m not leaving you,” I said as her lower lip trembled. Her cast clanked me in the back of my head as she threw her arms around my neck. Silent sobs shook her slender frame, and I gently rocked her back and forth while my own tears fell from my eyes.

It seemed impossible to think that we would ever recover from the pain we felt.

I spent the afternoon on the phone, withdrawing Megan from her gymnastics class and getting her enrolled into Mrs. Mimi’s Jr. Academy. They didn’t usually take enrollees after the school year started, but made an exception for us once they heard my last name. Our family had been splattered across the news for weeks so that everyone knew our name. I quietly explained Megan’s catatonic state and asked if that would be a problem. Mrs. Mimi herself assured me that they would be more than happy to take her and see if they could get her to open up again.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted by the time I hung up the phone. I was anxious to be surrounded by my friends in a familiar environment. I can honestly say I've never hated school and being popular definitely had its perks. Hanging out with my friends at lunch and texting during class, that was my world. School was the social outlet I had always gravitated to. I missed my group of friends, even Lacey. I was thinking maybe I had overreacted when she visited the other day. Maybe her shallowness was just an act to cover up how she felt about the whole death thing.

***

The next morning, Megan and I drove to her new school so she could meet her teacher and get a lay of the land. It was so touching when her little friend Mandy threw her arms around Megan, offering the support I had been expecting from my own best friend. I watched from the doorway as Mandy dragged Megan around the room, pointing out all her favorite things. It seemed extraordinary to me that a four-year-old seemed to know exactly what Megan needed.

Mrs. Mimi joined me at the doorway and introduced me to Megan’s teacher, Ms. Hope. She looked to be in her early twenties and had that fresh I-love-all-kids attitude about her. I was ashamed to admit there was a time that I probably would have mocked her bubbly personality to my entourage of friends, but that part of me was gone. Now, I was insanely relieved that Megan would be with someone so happy since her home life was now the exact opposite.

Mrs. Mimi loaded me up with enrollment papers for my mom to sign and gave Megan’s shoulder a pat. “We look forward to having you as a part of our school,” she said kindly.

Megan nodded, grabbing on to my hand.

“You’re not staying today, Peanut,” I said, understanding her sudden apprehension. “You’ll start tomorrow.”

She smiled at me, relieved.

“How about some lunch?” I asked, buckling her into her car seat.

She shrugged her shoulders dismissively.

“Come on, Peanut. You don’t want to have to go see Dr. Andrews, right?”

She shook her head quickly.

“Okay, so we get lunch, and then we'll go somewhere special, okay?”

She nodded.

After swinging through the McDonald’s drive-thru, I drove several miles up the road before pulling down the wooden path leading to Megan’s favorite destination. I glanced in the mirror and saw a slight glimmer of happiness blaze through her eyes before they once more clouded over.

I knew when I had picked this destination it would be painful since memories of my father swirled around it, but I needed to show Megan that though the memories were painful, we could face them head-on.

“Come on, Peanut, let’s go eat with some mountain lions,” I said, naming her all-time favorite animal at the small zoo.

Megan grabbed the bag with our lunch as I juggled our drinks while trying to fish our annual passes out of my purse. I had yet to use my pass since zoo outings were usually reserved for Saturdays, and I had always been too busy to grace my family with my presence. The cashier's eyes widened with recognition when she spotted Megan. I cringed inside, willing her silently not to say anything. This trip was painful enough without having to field the sympathy of others.

Sensing my silent plea, she simply flashed us both a smile. “Have a nice day,” she said, before handing back our passes.

“Thanks,” I said, following behind Megan as she headed toward the fenced-in outdoor area where they kept the mountain lions.

Megan and I settled on the rough wooden benches that faced the enclosure. I handed over her cheeseburger and then pulled out my own. The lions were on the far side of the enclosure, but slowly crept closer as they became curious about our presence.

“You better hurry and eat that cheeseburger. I think Charlie thinks it’s for him,” I said, pointing to the male lion she had named months ago as he paced in front of the enclosure. As if to emphasize my point, Charlie rolled out his rough pink tongue and licked his chops. I couldn’t help but giggle and felt even better after looking over at Megan and saw her own eyes shining brightly with a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She munched on her cheeseburger with more enthusiasm than she had shown for food in weeks. I mentally kicked myself for not ordering an extra cheeseburger after watching her scarf it down with such gusto. Her fries went down equally fast and I handed over my own fries, happy for her sudden indulgence. Her attention remained fixated on the lions that continued to pace in front of their enclosure.

“They’re pretty cool, huh, Peanut?” I asked, breaking the silence.

She nodded her head, at least looking at me happier than I had seen her in awhile.

We spent the rest of the afternoon visiting the other animals. I could tell which ones were Megan’s favorites by the order we visited them. She skirted around the building that housed the creepy crawlies all afternoon and only faced the doors with great trepidation after we had visited every other animal the zoo housed.

“We don’t have to go in,” I told her, reaching down to rest a hand on her shoulder.

My words spurred her on, and she grasped the door handle with both hands and pulled it open swiftly. She stepped into the dimly lit room and slowly walked by each glass enclosure. Although she did not pause to give each one her own silent greeting like she had with all the other animals, she did make sure each one got a small acknowledgement.

I hadn’t attended many of the family excursions to the zoo, but had witnessed several of Megan's and my dad's debates over the differences between insects and animals. Megan felt that since bugs really weren’t considered animals, they didn’t need to be visited. My father had claimed that anything that was a living thing deserved some amount of respect and at least warranted a brief visit. Megan had grudgingly agreed and allowed him to lead her around the small enclosed room, even though it freaked her out.

I couldn’t help wondering what thoughts were running through her head as she paid tribute to each creepy crawly, or maybe the tribute was to our dad.

My slam nearly took the door off its hinges. It had been a suckass two weeks and having my aunt riding me to finish packing away the last of the crap from my old house was the last straw. I could give a rat’s ass about my dad’s stuff; besides, half that crap belonged at the dump.

I threw myself across my bed, loathing the floral bedspread more at that moment than ever before. I stuffed my ear-buds into my ears with more force than I should have, sending a sharp pain rocketing through my head that for a brief moment matched the stark emotions that swirled through me.

It had been three long weeks since the accident and Kassandra was still missing from school. The first two weeks had been understandable, but at the start of the third week I began to wonder what was up. I knew enough about her to know that cheerleading was her world and if she missed too much school her grades would slip and she would risk getting the boot off the squad. The crazy question was why did I even care? God, I don't know what's with me lately. We had attended the same schools since the sixth grade without our groups ever intermingling and yet, I could not seem to get her out of my mind since I had gotten a glimpse into her life.

Frustrated that my thoughts were once again dwelling too much on her, I cranked up the music, letting the steady beat drown her out.

Megan looked frighteningly small to me when I dropped her off the next morning at her new school. I could tell she was scared by the way she gave me a tight hug.

“It’ll be fine, Peanut. You’ll be so busy learning and playing that it'll be time to go home before you know it,” I reassured her, giving her one last hug before her trembling lip could entice me to whisk her away.

Chattwick High School was only a few miles from Mrs. Mimi’s Jr. Academy and I could slowly feel the bands of responsibility begin to release their tight hold on me. The guilt of leaving Megan behind in a new environment faded at the thought of getting back to my old routine.

I pulled into the student parking lot thinking about how different that day would have been if my car wouldn’t have been at the dealership for a tune-up on the day of the accident. Megan and my dad would have been nowhere near my school since I would have driven myself. I maneuvered my car into the space next to Lacey’s convertible and shook off the “if onlys” that wanted to creep in again. I needed all my wits about me if I was going to face everyone for the first time in weeks.

Every eye was on me as I made my way to my locker. It took every bit of strength I had to ignore the whispers and exchanged looks, but I kept my focus steadfastly ahead of me.

Next would be the hardest part as I saw my group of friends hanging out by the row of lockers we had staked out as our own two years ago when we were all sophomores. I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and willing my face into one of my trademark smiles, but it refused to obey. Lacey was the first to spot me, and I watched as she leaned over to whisper in Allie’s ear, who then glanced in my direction, flashing an obvious fake sympathetic smile. My heart dropped to my knees as everyone stopped in midsentence to stare at me. Some kind of snarky comment from me would have taken the awkwardness from the moment, but my arsenal of wit seemed just beyond my grasp.

“Kassandra, I’m sooooooo glad you’re back,” Allie said, giving me a loose noodle hug and an air kiss that just a few weeks ago I had thought made us look sophisticated. Now, it just seemed silly to me that we pretended we were something we weren’t. My arms remained limp at my side as each of my friends gave me the same greeting. I fought the urge to push them away as the absurdity of the moment gripped me.

My inner turmoil was halted when a warm pair of arms pulled me in for a real hug. “How you doing, kid?” the voice of my on-again-off-again boyfriend, Colton asked. I shrugged my shoulders as sudden grief began to grip me. Colton had been with me since grade school, and through the years, we had tried dating several different times, but something always seemed to be off. The few times the relationship had escalated to the making out stage, the passion was oddly missing. We had finally decided the previous year that maybe we just knew each other to well and should stop pushing something that wasn’t there. We had gone out together a few times this past year, but Colton had stopped being playful and had grown serious. I couldn’t help wondering if he really was in love with me by the way he stared at me like he had something to tell me. I had deliberately kept him at arm’s length, not wanting to deal with the drama. His sudden change of attitude had driven a wedge in our friendship, and over the last few months we had spoken to each other only a handful of times. Even standing here now in the comfort of his embrace, I felt sick to my stomach at my selfishness. We were supposed to be friends, but when things had turned less than pleasant, I had kicked him to the curb.

“I’m here if you need me,” he said, looking at me with concern as he tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear.

“Thanks.”

“Sooooo, like I was saying, I think you should do a back flip off Roy’s shoulders,” Lacey said to Trish, ignoring the exchange between Colton and me. And with that, everyone's sympathies turned to mindless chatter about this and that.

I glanced at Colton who flicked a grin my way. “Some things never change, huh,” he said wryly as we headed off to homeroom.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” I said softly as we entered Ms. Nixon’s class together.

Colton gave me a questioning look, but I didn’t elaborate.

“Ms. Cole, it’s nice to have you back,” Ms. Nixon said with the first genuine bit of sympathy I had sensed so far.

“Thanks,” I said, willing myself not to cry.

“If you need anything, you come see me, okay?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

My mind drifted off as the daily announcements flashed across the screen at the front of the room. My friends' reactions hurt, but the fact that a few weeks ago my behavior most likely would have mirrored their own made me want to sink through the floor. It seemed hard to believe I had been as callous as they were.

The rest of the morning was a painful mess as students that had once envied me now just stared with morbid fascination while my teachers smothered me with sympathy. By the time lunch rolled around, my head was pounding. Be careful what you wish for is all I could think as I now coveted the silence of my house. Colton joined up with me after fourth period, and we both strolled toward the long picnic table outside that my group always shared. I normally sat between Lacey and Trish since they both usually liked to sit by me, but as I approached the table, they shifted so the gap between them was nonexistent. Ignoring their blatant snub, I slid into the seat next to Colton on the opposite side of the table. The conversation around me swelled to an annoying pitch as I unwrapped my sandwich. Chad and Steve were loudly trashing University High's football team, since we were playing them this week. Marcus, egged on by Jack, was busy shooting spitballs through a straw at any underclassmen that were unfortunate enough to walk past our table, while Lacey, Trish and Allie gossiped about a junior who got caught messing around with a teacher a few weeks back. I almost fell out of my seat when I learned it was a teacher I had liked and to the best of my knowledge was married.

Only Colton and I remained relatively silent as the noise from the surrounding area reached a deafening level. I glanced at Colton to gauge his reaction, but he seemed to be lost in thought.

Lifting my sandwich to take a bite, my eyes scanned the area, looking for an escape from the many conversations going on at once. I nearly choked when I saw that I was being scrutinized by another individual.

I took my usual perch outside the auditorium, hoping today would finally be the day that she came walking by from the student parking lot. You would think after staking out this spot for the past three weeks, I would have been more prepared when she appeared. Instead, I nearly knocked myself out when I smacked my head on a tree branch trying to duck out of sight. My heart was suddenly racing, and I could feel the sweat beading on my now throbbing forehead. I couldn't believe how good she looked, or how I couldn't get this chick out of my mind. My friends would absolutely hammer me if they knew how I really felt about her. Like I was some kind of wuss the way I sneaked around just watching her.

I played it cool, keeping a safe distance between us as she made her way to her locker. I wish I had the guts to actually walk up to her and say something, but there was no way in hell that would happen, especially, after she became surrounded by Lacey and the others who passed her around from one hug to the next. Of course, that tool Colton was also there, wrapping her tightly in his arms. Seeing them made me feel like kind of a jerk for believing I might ever have a place in her life, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away as they strolled down the hall together.

The morning dragged through one endless class after another. Pretty much all I did was sit anxiously waiting for the bell, hoping if I timed it right, I might catch a glimpse of her in between classes. By the end of fourth period, I was annoyed and frustrated at myself for letting some girl dictate my life like this. Maybe not catching a glimpse of her was a sign that I should move on. Satisfied with my resolve, I dumped my crap into my locker, grabbed my iPod and drum sticks and headed outside to my favorite hangout on the north side of the campus. It was the farthest location away from any kind of administration, making it a popular place to smoke or get high, earning it the not-so-clever name of “Smokeville.” Ironically, the only thing I had in common with my friends was our taste in music and clothes. I didn’t smoke, didn’t do drugs, and wasn’t a big drinker. My dad made sure of that. Not because he was some super parent that preached the evils of drugs and alcohol. On the contrary, my dad had encouraged me to get wasted, many times. He practically blew his check every week at the bar or on weed or sometimes, even meth. He was the reason my mom left. No, I refused to even try any of it because I didn’t want to turn out like him, screw that.

The quickest way to get to Smokeville was through the lunch quad, but the chances of seeing Kassandra were also greater going that way. I considered going the long way around the gym to avoid torturing myself any further, but it just takes too long and cuts into the lunch period.

I spotted her the second I stepped outside. She was once again surrounded by all her friends, but didn’t exactly look like she was enjoying herself, judging by the lost look on her face. The hard part was that I would have to walk right by their table to get where I was going. My heart pounded just like this morning as I narrowed the gap between us. My plan was to nonchalantly stroll by without pausing, but I stopped in mid-step when her eyes met mine.

Colton pounded me on the back as I choked. “You okay?”

I nodded, still unable to speak. My eyes spilled over with tears and by the time I finished coughing to look up, the guy who initiated my fit was gone. I knew it was inevitable that we would run into each other from time to time, but it didn’t make it any easier to see him. I wanted to lash out at him for allowing his father to drive that day. The toxicology reports from the accident proved he was plastered. If his father wouldn’t have been driving, my father would still be alive.

“Better?” Colton asked, smiling crookedly at me.

“Yeah, I guess that bite went down the wrong tube.”

“Wow, is that a blush?” Colton asked, stroking the side of my face with the pad of his thumb.

“Whatever,” I said, trying to use my disinterested voice that I had turned into an art form before my dad died. All embarrassment aside, I was just happy no one else at the table was paying much attention to our exchange.

“So, really, are you okay?” Colton repeated his question from before.

I could have thrown out another blasé answer, but my tongue formed the words that my brain wanted to hide. “It’s just all so surreal. Everything’s the same here, but at my house, it’s like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie or something. My mom walks around like a zombie, making very little noise, while Peanut follows me around like a silent shadow,” I said, feeling tears beginning to form again.

Everyone at the table suddenly went silent after my admission. Go figure, when I’m choking no one even looks up, but when I spill my guts, that’s when I become the center of attention again.

Lacey’s eyes met mine and for the briefest moment I thought she understood my feelings. That is until she stood up abruptly. “No offense Kassandra, but all this doom and gloom is seriously making my head ache,” she said, shooting me a sarcastic smile before she flounced off.

I watched her back incredulously. That couldn’t have hurt any worse if she would have actually slapped me across the face. Trish and Allie both shot me sympathetic looks before scrambling after her.

“What a beeyotch,” Jack said, making the rest of my friends laugh.

Colton reached over and squeezed my hand. “She’s just being Lacey,” he said, offering an explanation.

I sat there in shock, trying to maintain my composure. He was right, though. Lacey was just being herself. She was fun to hang out with when you were in the mood to gossip or talk about some guy’s rock hard pecks, but when it came to anything of any substance, she would tune you out in a heartbeat. I hated to admit it, but before the accident, I didn’t have much more depth than that either. It took the harsh reality of my father’s death to make me re-evaluate myself. The sad part is I hear his words more now than when he was alive.

“Just be yourself Kass Kass. If people can’t appreciate what you have to offer as a person, they aren’t your real friends,” he had said. Of course, I just shrugged it off, thinking he didn’t have a clue.

Now, watching Lacey disappear into the building, his words seemed more potent than ever. How had I allowed myself to become that person? I shamefully lowered my eyes. Could I really expect my friends to see me any differently after I had projected such a superficial attitude before?

“Jack’s right. She’s a mega-bitch,” Colton whispered in my ear.

“No, you were right. Lacey was just being herself,” I said, standing up to throw my trash away.

The bell rang as I grabbed my book bag, giving me the excuse to bolt for the building, leaving the rest of my so-called friends behind. I had other plans at this point that didn’t include fifth period. I headed for the north end of the building and exited through the double doors toward the student parking lot. Tears clouded my eyes. Completely flustered, I fumbled through my bag to find my keys, almost reaching the point where I wanted to throw my book bag, before finding them near the bottom. I thrust the key into the ignition, threw the car in reverse and peeled out of the parking lot, all in quick succession. It felt odd leaving early since I had never really skipped before. Well, except for seventh period sometimes so we could get to cheerleading practice early. Ms. Hanson never seemed to mind. She was a cheerleader herself through college and was pleased by our dedication.

I hit the gas and merged onto the highway, heading for the beach. I knew I should have picked up Megan since it was her first day at her new school, but I yearned to shake the confines of responsibility.

I pulled into the beach parking lot that my friends and I frequented almost every day during the summertime. The lot was practically deserted and I climbed out of the vehicle, thankful I would get the solitude I was searching for. I used the hand-rail for balance and removed my sandals before heading down the wooden steps that led to the sand. It was a little warm today, but the shade from the storm wall made the sand feel cool beneath my feet. The sea breeze off the ocean made the waves choppy and had my hair whipping around my face. Luckily, I had grabbed one of my hair ties from the car and used it to gather my hair in the back. I closed my eyes and sank down to the sand, letting the sounds of the beach comfort me. The methodical rhythm of the waves rolling in, the wind blowing across my face, and the chatter of the pelicans played harmoniously together, drowning out the sobs I had been holding back since lunch.

Drawing my knees up to my chest, I rested my head forward, finally allowing myself the freedom to grieve. Cold harsh reality became crystal clear as I finally accepted the fact that my life was never going to be same again.

I was leaving Smokeville via the student parking lot when I saw Kassandra stumble across the parking lot to her vehicle. I watched from afar like the good stalker I had become as she climbed into her car before peeling out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. I guess she wasn’t as ready to come back as she thought. I just hope it wasn’t because of me.

My feelings for her eclipsed anything I ever remembered feeling before. It would suck if she felt like she couldn’t be here anymore because of what my dad had done. Maybe I was stupid anyway. How could I feel this way about someone I’ve never really talked to? I’m not even confident I could explain it to her if I had the chance. It wasn’t like I was feeling some kind of love at first sight or instant lust for that matter, although she was definitely gorgeous. The point being, I wasn’t some kind of freak. I just wanted to protect her from any further heartbreak. To see her eyes light up like they did in the family pictures the news showed on television.

By two o’clock, I was back on the road, headed for Mrs. Mimi’s to pick up Megan. I felt surprisingly better and a little more in control of the situation after crying things out. Pulling down the visor, I peeked in the mirror to make sure I didn’t need to do damage control before going inside to get Megan. My eyes were slightly bloodshot, but the puffiness around them had faded significantly. I pulled out my compact and smoothed a little powder under my eyes to cover up the slight redness that remained. Once I was satisfied, I slicked my favorite lip gloss from Victoria’s Secret across my pale lips.

Convinced Megan wouldn’t be the wiser about my breakdown, I headed inside. I punched our security code into the panel that would allow the double doors to swing open. All at once, the interior of the building rumbled like a freight train from the sounds of the laughing and screaming coming from different classrooms mingled together.

“Hello, Kassandra,” Mrs. Mimi greeted me as she stepped out of the controlled chaos.

“Hi. How did it go today?”

“Very well, I think. She didn’t speak today, but she participated in all the activities. She seemed quite bored during story-time, though.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention she’s an advanced reader. She reads at like a fifth-grade level.”

“That’s splendid,” Mrs. Mimi, said beaming at me. “We have a library stocked with books. During story hour tomorrow, I’ll have Ms. Amanda, Ms. Hope’s assistant, take Megan to the library to pick out a book. You know I think reading is so important, and we want to keep encouraging her.”

“She’d like that,” I said before heading toward Megan’s classroom.

Peeking through the window in the door, I scanned the room for Megan, finally spotting her in the corner with Mandy. Mandy was chattering away as they pretended to cook at the small make-believe kitchen together. Megan wasn’t talking or even smiling, but she at least looked content. Every few seconds, her eyes would scan the room, taking in her surroundings. It was tough to tell if she was really enjoying herself. On her third sweep of the room, she caught me watching her through the small window. Sudden relief spread across her face.

She rushed toward me, throwing herself into my arms when I opened the door. I ignored the pain of her cast knocking against my shoulder as her small body quaked in my arms.

“It’s okay, Peanut, I’m here. Did someone hurt you?” I asked, pulling back to find out what had upset her, but she wouldn’t withdraw her death grip from my neck

“Are you sick?”

She shook her head again. I sighed. Refusing to talk in a situation like this was beyond frustrating. I wanted to shake her to make her speak, but held myself back.

“Ms. Hope, any idea what’s wrong?” I asked accusingly to her approaching teacher.

“She had a good day, but she kept glancing at the door. I’m not sure if maybe she thought you weren’t coming back or maybe something had happened to you,” the teacher explained.

“Peanut, did you think I wasn’t coming back?” I asked.

She shook her head again.

“Were you afraid something had happened to me?” I asked, grasping at straws. I was shocked when she nodded her head slightly.

“Oh Peanut, I’m fine,” I said, fighting back the urge to cry.

She pulled back slightly, intently studying my face.

“I promise,” I said looking in her eyes earnestly.

My tone must have reassured her since her death grip loosened.

I staggered to my feet with her locked in my arms as Ms. Hope rounded up her belongings.

“Goodbye, Ms. Megan. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” she said, smoothing her hand over Megan’s golden locks.

Megan nodded her head solemnly, but tightened her grip around me.

***

Everything was quiet as usual when we arrived home. Megan went off to search for Mom while I headed to my room to drop off my junk. I pulled my iPhone from my purse and scrolled through the text messages I had missed. The first few were from Colton.

Hey where did u go????

R U ok?

Is this because of Lacey?

His concern was touching and brought a smile to my face. Lacey’s messages on the other hand, not so much.

So where are you?

Are you still being melodramatic?

Kassandraaaaaaaa???????

Ugh, stop being a cow and text me back.

Whatever, I sighed. Even electronically her sarcasm was crystal clear.

Deciding it wasn’t worth the drama, I kept my reply neutral.

Sorry had to pick Megan up from school.

Her answer came back almost instantly.

Ms. Hanson is majorly pissed at you for skipping cheerleading again.

She’ll get over it. I texted, aggravated that it was even an issue.

Well you are the captain after all.

With that, my frustration reached a boiling point.

Lacey could you stop being a selfish bitch for just one moment. I mean seriously my dad just died. I don’t give a shit about cheerleading right now! I typed out roughly on my phone before thrusting it across my bed in disgust.

I heard it chirp beside me as I scrambled off my bed, but chose to ignore it. The irony of the situation didn’t escape me. My dad had teased me for years about my iPhone being one of my appendages. Well, I guess it just got amputated.

I headed across the hall to see if my mom was in the guest room, but found it empty. Closing the door behind me, I set off toward the suite my parents had shared. That room appeared to be empty too, until I was startled by a faint noise coming from the closet. Treading lightly across the hardwood floors in my bare feet, I approached the closet with sudden apprehension. A rustling thud once again spooked me, making my heart skip a beat. I took a deep breath to ready myself only to be taken completely aback when I opened the doors. To say I wasn’t prepared for what I saw would be a monumental understatement.

There was my mom, huddled on the floor of my dad’s side of the closet wearing multiple layers of his clothing. She continued to reach up and pull more clothing down, sending discarded hangers ricocheting off the walls and onto the floor. As if the sight wasn’t disturbing enough, I spotted Megan, completely frightened and huddled off at the back of the closet watching my mom.

“Mom, you have to stop,” I said, kneeling down in front of her, trying to block Megan’s view.

“I can’t,” she wailed. “I miss him so much. I miss his warmth, his voice, the way he smelled,” she said, lifting his shirt to her face and inhaling deeply.

“You have to,” I emphasized, looking over my shoulder at Megan.

She looked beyond me at Megan’s wide-eyed gaze.

I grasped onto her hands, dragging her to her feet. She swayed slightly in front of me, looking a little unsteady, so I took her by the arm and lead her to her bed. “You need to rest,” I said, taking in the dark circles under her eyes as I helped her pull the extra layers of clothing off. “You look like death,” I added, instantly regretting my choice of words when she stiffened.

I gently pushed her back against the mattress and covered her up with the folded afghan at the foot of her bed. Megan stood by watching while I left the room briefly to retrieve a cup of water and the bottle of sleeping pills the doctor had prescribed.

“Here, take these,” I said, holding out two pills from the bottle.

She shook her head no.

“Yes, Mom, you need to sleep so you can start functioning.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she said stubbornly.

“You have to! We need you,” I said, once again looking at Megan.

She followed my gaze with fresh tears leaking from her eyes. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said to Megan, finally cupping the pills in her hand before tossing them in her mouth.

It didn’t take long for the strong narcotics to take effect and she was softly snoring. Megan and I stood side by side for a few minutes, watching her sleep before we left her room together.

“How about pizza?” I asked as we walked into the kitchen.

She stared at me silently, still shell-shocked from witnessing mom’s meltdown.

“We’ll have a pizza party in the family room, okay? We’ll watch movies, eat junk food, and paint our nails.”

My enticing offer worked and she nodded her consent.

“One-two-three-four,” I tapped out, sending the large garage rocking into our usual Thursday night jam session. I pounded out the beat on the drums. In front of me, John wailed on his guitar, Dex was killing it on bass, and Drake totally owned our small group of admirers the way he belted out our lyrics into the microphone.

In between sets, I swiped the beaded up sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand, catching the admiring gaze of Miranda. Of course, I wished it was someone else. I shook my head to dislodge the thoughts of Kassandra. I didn’t need the distraction at the moment. Miranda was cool, and I knew she was into me. She looked at me appraisingly when I returned her smile. When we launched into our next set, I kept my eyes fixated on her, taking in every curve of her body. She returned my heated glance as we eye-flirted throughout the song.

The small crowd cheered as I rolled through my solo. I grinned at them, tossing my drumsticks up above my head and catching them at the last moment as I continued on.

“Dude, you rocked,” John said, knocking his knuckles against mine as we sat around after the last song. “It’s good to have you back. The jams just weren’t the same.”

“Yeah, we missed your sorry loser ass,” Drake added, throwing a mock punch at my shoulder.

I shrugged my shoulders as I pulled on my t-shirt that had been discarded halfway through the set. I was just grateful they didn’t want to hash out my reason for bailing lately. They had been around me enough over the years, and had even witnessed some of the poundings I had endured from dad.

Dex opened his mouth to ask me a question when a pair of smooth cool hands reached up behind me to cover my eyes.

“Guess who?” Miranda whispered in my ear as she pressed her body snug up against my back.

“Ummm, Shannon,” I teased.

“Guess again,” she said, breathing into my ear before leaving a nip on my earlobe.

My body responded and in one fluid movement I twisted around so she was locked in my arms. I slowly backed us out of the garage with my hands locked firmly on her hips, keeping her right where I wanted her the most. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as my mouth crashed down on hers. Thrusting my tongue deep in her mouth, I pretended she was the one person I wasn’t allowed to have. I moved one hand up under her shirt while my other hand snaked around to her backside so I could pull her tightly up against me.

I woke up late for school Friday morning, stiff from sleeping on the couch with Megan the night before. We stayed up later than we should have watching old Disney movies in a vain effort to lighten the mood. Megan crashed around midnight, but I stayed up several more hours before finally falling into an uneasy slumber.

I left Megan sleeping on the couch while I hurried upstairs to get ready for school. I didn't have time for a shower, so I just sponged off a little and threw on my comfy cheerleading sweats I normally wore after the football games. My hair got swept up on top of my head in a messy bun with an oversized clip. The dark circles under my eyes could have used some attention, but I didn't feel like putting in the effort to cover them up, so after a touch of eyeliner and some lip gloss, I was ready to go. I snatched up my book bag off the floor and my iPhone, which was ready to die, off my bed where I had left it.

I checked on Mom before heading down stairs with a change of clothes for Megan. She was still zonked out on her side of the bed so I softly closed the door behind me.

Megan was sitting up blurry eyed on the couch when I returned. “Here, Peanut, put these on quick, we’re running behind. I’m going to go grab you something for breakfast,” I added, heading toward the kitchen.

I grabbed a couple packages of Pop-Tarts from the pantry, a juice box for Megan and a diet Coke for me from the fridge before hurrying back out of the room after seeing the time.

“Great, nothing like getting to school late on my second day back,” I muttered to myself when I realized the bell for first period was most likely ringing at that moment.

Megan was still sitting on the couch in her pajamas when I returned. “Megan, I told you to hurry,” I said sharply, pulling her attention from the cartoon on the television.

Her eyes widened at my sharp tone, but my lack of sleep kept me from feeling bad. I hurried her along, not taking the care I probably should have to be gentle. Her casted arm snagged on her shirt as I tried to pull it on.

She remained silent, but I noticed her draw in a gasp of pain. I felt remorseful, but ignored it as I steered her upstairs to brush her teeth. The added responsibility of getting her ready in the morning irritated me today, and I threw a resentful glance toward my parents’ suite as I waited in the hallway for Megan to exit the bathroom.

Looking at Megan as we headed downstairs, I felt terrible about taking my frustration out on her. It wasn’t her fault Mom hadn't recovered yet. I reached over and grabbed her hand as we reached the bottom step. She was still obviously hurt when she looked up at me.

“Sorry, Peanut, I’m just grumpy this morning, okay?”

She nodded, but I could still see she didn’t quite believe me. I really couldn’t blame her since my track record with her wasn’t all that great. Only a month ago, I treated her much like a gnat buzzing around my head bugging me. I had made a promise to myself at the hospital that I would put my family above all else from that point on. It was the last gift I could think of to give my father. I would have to win her trust and my grumpy mood this morning had not helped matters, but I would try harder in the future.

***

My day only went further downhill after that. Lacey gave me the silent treatment when I finally got to school halfway through second period. I tried to make amends for my bitchy text the day before by passing her a note, but she crumpled it up and tossed it aside without bothering to look at it. She leaned over to whisper something to Allie who glanced back at me and snickered. By the time third period started, I could tell Lacey had been busy, judging by the snubs from my other friends. When lunch came around, I wasn't in the mood to deal with anymore drama and wound up hiding out in the library, and by the end of the day, I was over all the whispering and stares my so-called friends were shooting my way. I couldn't believe Lacey had allowed my text to get so blown out of proportion.

When the last bell rang, I headed off to the girls’ locker room.

“Oh, now she’s interested in the squad,” I heard Lacey say snidely behind my back.

I ignored her dig and headed to Mrs. Hanson’s office in the far corner of the locker room. I tapped lightly on the door before pushing it open. Mrs. Hanson looked up from the stack of flyers she was sorting through.

“Kassandra, it’s so good to have you back. How are you doing?” she asked, giving me a tight hug.

“Okay,” I said, stepping back after an appropriate amount of grief-hugging time had passed. “Sorry about missing practice yesterday, I had to pick up my sister from her new school.”

“Oh honey, that's fine. I really didn’t expect you back until Monday.”

So, she was pissed about me missing cheerleading, huh? I thought. God, Lacey is such a bitch.

Ms. Hanson’s kindness made me almost regret the decision I had made the night before, but I knew it was for the best.

“Actually, Ms. Hanson, I want to step down from the squad.”

“What?” she squawked in disbelief. “The season's almost over. I though you wanted a cheerleading scholarship?”

“I just won’t have the time. My family needs me right now. Plus, I kind of need a break from all the drama.”

She sighed at my words. “Girls,” she muttered, looking out beyond the door behind me. “Are you sure?” she asked, looking back at me.

I nodded as tears welled up at the thought of losing something else important in my life. Cheerleading had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. “I’m sure,” I said, swallowing hard.

She nodded her consent and wrapped me in a tight hug. “We’ll miss you. You’ve been the best captain this school has had in years.”

"Thanks," I nodded as I turned to leave.

“Kassandra?’

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let them get to you. I'm here if you have any trouble.”

“I won’t,” I said, walking out the door without saying a word to the girls who I had spent half my life hanging out with.

Rumors of Kassandra quitting the cheerleading squad spread like wildfire throughout the school, along with the fact that she was on the outs with some of her friends. It must suck to have everyone in your business, but I guess that was the price of popularity in this school. Of course, everyone had an opinion. Those that resented the more popular crowd gloated like they had won some sort of war or something. Then, there were others who were sucking up to Lacey for some reason, like maybe this was their chance to get close? I didn't get it. All I could think about was Kassandra and the fact that her so-called friends could be so shitty when she needed them the most. Their lack of loyalty made me want to smack the smug looks from their faces.

As the days passed, I would catch glimpses of Kassandra in the hallways from one class to the next. She rarely talked, and I never saw her smile. Much to my annoyance, Colton was the one friend who seemed to stand by her, and I often saw them eating lunch together under the big pine trees in the courtyard. They never seemed to talk much, but Kassandra at least seemed happier when she was with him. I was grudgingly grateful to him for sticking by her.

October flowed into November and November faded into December. Kassandra seemed to withdraw further into her shell until eventually, even her lunches with Colton ended. She was like a leaf in the wind that just slowly floated away.

School lost its luster for me as I slowly faded into the background, shutting myself off from everyone. Colton stuck by me, but seemed to be dealing with his own personal demons.

Leaving the cheerleading squad was the catalyst that separated my old life from my new life. I had to endure Lacey’s snarky remarks for weeks, but I became the queen at biting my tongue and keeping my retorts to myself. Acknowledging her would have only made her believe she was more important than she really was.

November was tough, celebrating our first family holiday without my dad. We wound up going to Cracker Barrel for Thanksgiving since my mom wasn’t up to fixing her traditional spread. The meal was okay, but nowhere near as good as what we were used to. I was relieved to finally put the day behind us, but worried about making it through Christmas. It was Dad's favorite holiday.

Megan and I continued to grow close, spending all of our non-school hours together. Even though she still wasn't talking, I learned she was more engaging than the girls I had shunned her for. I began to look forward to the time we spent together, while continuing to withdraw further and further from the school life I had once loved. Afraid that my sullen attitude was bringing Colton down with me, I eventually pulled away from him, choosing to eat my lunches in the library so he could start to integrate himself back in with our group without me holding him back.

By December tenth, three months after my father’s accident, the oppressiveness of school began to weigh on me. The walls felt as if they closing in, and I found myself daydreaming into the chalkboard at the front of the room, completely tuning out the teachers. The first month of my return to school, the teachers treated me with kid gloves and pretty much left me alone, but by the second month, their patience began to wear thin. Most of them tried to break through the shell I had enclosed myself in, but at this point, I was sick of the attention. I almost preferred the indifferent stance my ex-friends had shown.

“Ms. Cole, can you answer the question?” an impatient voice demanded, jerking me out of my trance.

“What?” I asked, trying to focus on Mr. Mathews’ sarcastic face.

“I wanted to know if you can answer the question from the textbook,” he said impatiently.

“Um, what problem?” I asked confused, looking down at my math book that I hadn’t bothered to open.

“Oh, forgive me, Ms. Cole. I didn't realize we were disturbing you. Perhaps you would actually like to participate now?” he asked in a biting tone.

“Not particularly,” I muttered, not appreciating his attempt to shame me in front of the class. He’d been doing it to students for years, and had the reputation of being a complete jerk. When I was on the squad, he’d pretty much left me alone since it was rumored he had the hots for Ms. Hanson. He's been riding me the last few months once it became common knowledge I was no longer cheerleading. I’d been good up to now about letting his sarcastic remarks roll off my back, but I had enough now.

My response made several students around me snicker and look at me appraisingly. It had been weeks since they’d heard a peep out of me and they were intrigued to hear my voice again.

“What did you say?” he demanded as his face and bald head turned a vibrant shade of red.

“I said. Not. Particularly,” I emphasized, dragging out each of my words.

“Look here, Ms. Cole, just because you’ve had a bump in the road doesn’t mean everyone is going to cater to you for the rest of your life. It’s time to grow up and move on,” he said loudly, towering over me.

I stood up suddenly, shaking with rage. “Fuck you,” I said quietly, looking him dead in the eye. The class around me seemed to gasp as one at my words.

“You just won yourself a one-way ticket to the dean’s office,” he said, shaking with his own rage.

“Whatever you say,” I said in the same condescending tone he’d been using on students for years. I snatched up my bag of the back off my chair and sashayed out of the room, letting my middle finger speak for itself. Enough was enough. No one understood what I was going through, and I was sick of all of them.

“GO TO THE OFFICE!” Mr. Mathews' hollered after me.

I felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted off my shoulders. That little act of rebellion at Mr. Mathews' expense had somehow liberated me and for the first time since the accident, I felt in control of a situation. Classroom doors opened down the hallway as curious teachers responded to the ruckus. I could hear the students crowing in each room as I walked by. I was just about to walk out the double doors when it occurred to me that one last act of anarchy would make this a truly monumental grand exit…

The sirens from the fire alarm shrieked loudly behind me as I climbed into my car, watching the students pile out of the building hooting and hollering.

I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of the teachers and administrators trying to discourage the students from leaving. It was completely exhilarating to do something so blatantly defiant that I had never done before. I felt alive, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air around me.

I felt so good I headed toward Megan’s school, deciding my hooky day would become her hooky day.

The parking lot was nearly empty with the exception of the teacher’s cars. I pulled up front and leaped from the car relishing the lightheartedness I felt.

“Why Kassandra, you’re early today,” Mrs. Mimi exclaimed. “And my, you look different.”

“I do?” I asked, looking down at my scruffy jeans and t-shirt that had become my customary school uniform lately. Puzzled, I reached up to touch my hair, not remembering how I had styled it that morning.

“It’s your eyes, they look lovely today,” she said, answering my puzzlement.

“Oh, okay?” I said, walking over to the elaborate gilded mirror that ran along the wall.

Her words made sense after studying my reflection a little. My eyes did have a certain sparkle in them that hadn’t been there in a while. Maybe being a bad girl suited me.

“Are you picking Megan up?” she asked, breaking into my reverie.

“Yeah, I thought we’d have a hooky day together,” I said, glancing away from the mirror.

“I think she’ll enjoy that,” Mrs. Mimi said, punching in the door code so we could walk in together.

Megan was happy to see me, though she studied me critically.

“I thought we’d go see that new Disney movie, what do you think?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically and slid her now cast-free hand into mine. Mom was supposed to take her to have it removed, but wound up backing out at the last moment and begged me to take her place. I tried to decline, knowing she had to leave the house eventually, but when she turned her pleading eyes on me, I couldn’t help relenting. The only time we got her to leave the house was for Thanksgiving, and I know that was only because the memories of past holidays at home were painful.

Removing the cast had been no picnic either. The doctor accidently cut Megan with the saw while removing the cast. To make her feel better, I entertained her with stories of my many cheerleading injuries, including a broken arm, just like hers. Knowing I had gone through the same thing seemed to help, and she put on a brave face while the doctor finished removing the cast. Her poor arm underneath was a grey, dusky color, but the doctor had told us it would pink up in no time. His words proved to be true, and within weeks, you couldn’t tell the difference between her two arms.

My lighthearted mood continued throughout the movie, and Megan was obviously having a good time also, the way she sat there beaming at the screen. The sun was just beginning to set by the time we got into the car to head home. I steered into the driveway, surprised to see a maroon sedan in my usual spot.

“Wonder who that is, Peanut,” I said, helping her out of her car seat.

She shrugged her shoulders which made me smile.

I opened the front door for us, juggling the Chinese takeout I had picked up on our way home. Mom had pretty much stopped cooking since the accident, and once all the sympathy casseroles ran out, I took over the job of making sure dinner got put on the table. Needless to say, we’d been eating a lot of takeout.

I was surprised to find my mom in the front sitting room considering we rarely used it. That is until I saw Mrs. Leighton perched on the opposite loveseat.

Crap. Mrs. Leighton had been trying to get me to come in to talk to her for months, but I had deflected each of her attempts.

“Kassandra, there you are,” Mom said, sounding strained.

She looked absolutely panicked. This was the new Mom though, a shell of her former self. I missed my vibrant, confident mother who loved to entertain and go out, yet another casualty of the accident.

“Kassandra,” Mrs. Leighton said, looking more severe than I’d ever seen her.

“Why don’t you go read for a little while, Peanut? We’ll eat in a few minutes,” I said, giving her a slight nudge toward the staircase.

Mrs. Leighton waited until Megan was upstairs before talking.

“So, like I told your mother, Kassandra, your behavior today was quite alarming,” Mrs. Leighton said, looking at me pointedly.

I glanced at mom to get a gauge of her reaction and was shocked to see her looking more alert than she had for months. “Kass, what happened?” she asked.

“Um yeah, well Mr. Matthews was being a real jerk,” I stuttered out.

“That may be, but cussing out a teacher is intolerable. Even more so is falsely pulling a fire alarm on school property,” Mrs. Leighton said sternly.

“I know,” I said, looking down at my folded hands.

“The principal wanted you suspended,” she said, holding her hand up when I started to protest. “But I stepped in and intervened on your behalf,” she continued.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. There will be consequences. First, you must write a letter of apology to Mr. Mathews', and secondly, you will have detention for the remaining weeks of this quarter.”

I nodded reluctantly. A week and a half of detention, I could handle, but writing a letter of apology would be a harder pill to swallow.

“And you will come in and see me during lunch three times a week for the rest of the year.”

“What?” I squawked, looking at my mom for help, but she only nodded her head in agreement.

“That’s the deal if you’re going to return to school,” she said, leaving no room for negotiation or argument.

“Fine,” I said, standing up to leave the room. I stomped up the stairs, losing the high I had gotten being a rebel. The last thing I felt like doing was pouring out my guts to some teacher that got off on being over-the-top nice.

Word of Kassandra losing it in Mr. Mathews' class reached me before I even made it to first period the next day. It was common knowledge that eventually someone would snap in Mr. Mathews' class, but I never would have thought it would be Kassandra that would give him the finger. She became an overnight sensation as everyone applauded her actions. Pulling the fire alarm was just the icing on the cake and earned Kassandra the title of Bad Ass of the year.

I had endured Mathews' prickish attitude as a junior and was lucky to make it out of his class without an incident. I was pissed when I heard what he had said to Kassandra to push her over the edge. For just a moment, I regretted not having my dad’s hot head. I would have liked nothing more than to cram my fist in Mathews' face.

“Did you hear she only got a week’s detention? That’s sweet.” I heard a pimply face sophomore say to his gaggle of friends. “That would be so worth it to tell that dick off. My sister had him two years ago, and he had her in tears almost the whole year. Why the school keeps an ass…”

His words faded away as he and his friends turned the corner. He was right. A week’s detention wasn’t all that bad, but I had a hard time picturing Kassandra surrounded by the crew that was normally doing the time in the auditorium after school.

“I think it’s hot she dropped the f-bomb, now I wanna see what else she’ll do with her mouth,” Dwayne, a loud mouth junior who had always grated on my nerves said as he and a couple of other jockstraps walked by.

Without taking time to consider my actions, I had him by the collar and slammed up against the long row of lockers.

“What the hell, man,” he said, trying to act tough.

“What’d you say about her mouth?” I said in a deadly serious voice for his ears only.

“Dude, I was joking,” he said as I released my hold on him.

“Keep your mouth shut about her or you’ll find something shoved down your throat. You got me?” I threatened as him and his buddies backed away.

I could hear him muttering about my dad as he walked off, but I noticed they had picked up their pace. How I had gotten a reputation as a badass was beyond me. With the exception of what just happened, I hadn’t been in a fight since junior high when Mark Bartlett had roughed up Drake in the locker room after gym class, just to show him up. I waited until the next day and let him know what a real punch felt like. I had endured enough beatings from my so-called dad over the years that I could put one on when I needed to. I got suspended for that one. Even though it was worth it for wiping the smug look of the punk's face, I struggled afterward with the gut-wrenching reality that I was becoming my dad. I had decided at the moment I would never throw another punch if I could help it.

“Mr. Clark, did I just see you put your hands on another student?” Mr. Cribbs asked, appearing from around the corner.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, recognizing my opportunity.

Five minutes later, I strolled through the hallway on my way to Smokeville with a week’s worth of detention stuffed in my back pocket, along with my drumsticks.

Writing a letter of apology turned out to be easier than I had anticipated. I realized whether intentional or not, Mrs. Leighton had given me an easy out. Detention, on the other hand, weighed heavily on me the next morning as I got ready for school. We’d seen the losers who frequented afterschool detentions when we needed to grab props for a certain cheer routines from the auditorium. We'd have to endure the obvious comments and whistles because of our short skirts. Depending on her mood, Lacey would either egg them on by sucking seductively on her finger as we walked by, or just flip them off if she was in a pissy mood.

As the day progressed, my apprehension grew and I fought the temptation to blow the whole thing off, but the thought of flunking out and maybe having to go to summer school changed my mind. I had been slacking off enough this year as it was, so I really needed to pull it together.

“Hey, stranger,” Colton said, coming up to me after seventh period. “I heard you finally had something to say in class yesterday,” he said shooting me a mischievous grin before nudging me with his hip.

“Ha, what can I say? I guess my inner-rebel is coming out,” I said, joking with him for the first time in months. “Besides, what person hasn’t wanted to tell Matthews to f-off?”

“Right, I just never thought it would be you who got the honor.”

“Well, how 'bout we give you the honor and you can serve my detention,” I said, shooting a grin his way.

“No can do, chica, I have to flip burgers this afternoon.”

“What, you got a job?” I asked incredulously. As far as I knew, money wasn’t an issue for his family, with his father being a lawyer and all.

“Yeah, my dad has some grand scheme to man me up by making me get a job,” he said sarcastically.

“Man you up? You’re about as manly as they come,” I said, throwing a mock punch at his bicep. What the hell is that all about?” I asked confused.

“It’s too much to delve into now. I’ll tell you some other time so I don’t ruin your “detention high.”

“You’re a crack up,” I said tossing my bio and world history text books into my locker before slamming the door.

“Lunch tomorrow?” he asked hopefully as I started off toward detention hell.

“Can’t, I have to see Mrs. Leighton,” I said with a grimace.

“Ugh, counselor session?” he asked.

“I guess.”

“Maybe it'll help,” he said quietly, sounding a little unsure.

“Maybe,” I said, sounding doubtful. Maybe if she let me cuss out more teachers during the session, I couldn’t help thinking to myself as I entered the dimly lit auditorium.

I signed in with the teacher's aide that had the unpleasant task of making sure none of us skipped out. I walked down the slanted aisle, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. After a few moments, my eyes were able to scan the rows of seats and my heart sunk when I saw the hard-edged faces and sneering looks of the other attendees studying me. Finding an empty row, I walked several seats in so I could have the space completely to myself.

I pulled out my iPhone and opened up Facebook. I’d stayed clear from the social network scene over the last few months knowing Lacey was making catty remarks about me. I never bothered to check any of the comments until I realized I had more than two hundred missed notifications. Clicking on the oldest one, I was surprised by the words I read.

Sheesh, Lacey, stop being such a beeyotch, she just lost her dad. What did you do, bury your compassion with that stick in your ass? A senior I rarely talked with had commented. I couldn’t help but snicker as I pictured Lacey’s face when she read the comment.

For the next half an hour, I clicked through all the messages, surprised that the majority were all favorable toward me. I had been so wrapped up in the way my friends had treated me after the accident, I pretty much assumed everyone would feel the same. I just figured no one would want to hang out with "Ms. Doom and Gloom," as Lacey liked to call me.

There were tons of private messages to me, expressing their sympathy over my father passing. I swallowed a lump in my throat that so many people I had once considered beneath me had shown more decency than those I had trusted the most. Overcome with mixed emotions, I set my phone to the side and scanned the room. A handful more students now filled the seats, and I found the row in front of me no longer empty.

I studied the person that sat almost directly in front of me and couldn’t help admiring the thick hair that slightly curled at his collar line. It was a rich auburn color that most girls would die for. Mesmerized, I leaned forward to see if it was a supple as it looked.

I jerked back just before my hand could reach its destination. What the hell was wrong with me? Cussing a teacher out, pulling a fire alarm, and now, almost touching some guy's hair I didn’t even know? I was definitely losing it.

My thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping noise in front of me. Leaning forward, searching for the source of the noise, I saw the occupant in front of me was Maddon, drumming on his knee with a pair of drumsticks.

My stomach dropped to the floor, and all I could do was sit there like a deer in headlights, leaning back in my seat as he slowly turned around as if I had called his name.

Ours eyes locked in a momentary trance before he finally broke the connection by shifting back around in his seat.

What was that? I thought as adrenaline began to bring my blood to a boil. He’s going to dismiss me like I had bothered him or something? It was he and his father who had sent my family on this runaway train of destruction.

I spent the last half hour of detention fighting the urge to say something, or throw something at him, or hit him upside the head with my book bag, or even cut the thick hair on his head that I had admired earlier before realizing it was him. I didn’t know what deranged act I wanted to do, I just wanted to make him understand how much I hated him.

Five minutes before detention was due to end, he stood up and gave me a sweeping glance that made me wonder if he already knew how much I loathed him. I turned my eyes away before I did something rash like claw his eyes out.

He turned his back on me and walked away when the teacher’s aide announced we were free to go. My rage that had been stewing for the last hour turned quickly to nausea like I had just come off a roller coaster. I dropped my head to my knees hoping some of the lightheadedness would clear.

“You okay, dear?” the aide asked, standing at the end of the row where I sat.

“Yeah, sorry, I just felt a little sick there,” I apologized when I saw she was waiting on me to leave.

“That’s fine,” she said as I grabbed my school bag and followed her out of the building.

By the time I reached the student parking lot, most of the nausea had passed, but I felt weak from the anger that had consumed me so intensely. I sat in my car with my eyes closed, hoping the cold air conditioning would help when I heard the crowd of football players and cheerleaders mingling into the parking lot after practice. Now that the season was over, they were much more laid back as everyone was laughing and joking around. Lacey was of course flirting with Brad, the captain of the football team, as they headed toward his Jeep Wrangler that resembled something you would find in a monster truck rally. He helped her climb in by sliding his hands under her cheerleading skirt to cup her butt. Her high-pitched giggle sounded so phony, knowing her as well as I did. Not that Brad minded, considering the way he ran his hand up the inside of her thigh before he closed her door and loped around the front of the Jeep to the driver’s side.

Brad sped by my vehicle as he tore out of the parking lot. Lacey, recognizing my vehicle shot me the bird as they squealed by. I guess that put an exclamation point on where our friendship was at now.

What a colossally bad idea it was to crash Kassandra’s detention. Of course, knowing something and actually doing it are two separate issues. At first, she didn’t even notice I was there while she messed around with her phone. I knew the instant she became aware that someone was sitting in front of her when I heard her shift forward in her seat. I could feel her eyes studying me, making my pulse race as I fought the urge to turn around. It was obvious the instant she realized it was me.

Everything after that felt like an out-of-body experience. I swear when I turned around to look at her, it was as if I had no control of my body, it just happened. And I just sat there like a total freak, saying nothing. She looked so pissed, if looks could kill, I would have dropped dead right there on the spot. I didn’t know what to do so I just froze, putting on my trademark, I-don’t-give-a-shit look on my face before turning back around.

I could feel her laser beam eyes burning a hole through the back of my head. For a moment, I even considered taking the chicken’s way out by bolting from the room. Instead, I slouched down, wishing the seat would swallow me whole.

With five minutes left, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up, shooting her one last look before heading down my row. My gut shrank to the size of a walnut when I saw the gambit of emotions spread across her delicate face. My presence was causing her pain she didn’t deserve. Quickening my pace, I headed up the aisle, throwing some excuse to the teacher about needing to use the bathroom.

I didn’t stop until I was around the corner, completely out of site. Standing with my back against the wall, I welcomed the sting of the rough brick on the side of my hands as I pounded my fists. Damn my dad for making this mess, and damn me for taking the chicken-shit way out that day. If only I would have taken the bus or bummed a ride from Drake, none of this would have happened. The old man would have slept off his drunken haze while I was at school. Sure, I probably would have received a smack or two, but the tradeoff in the whole spectrum of things would have been worth it.

I could hear the door of the auditorium opening as the remaining "delinquents" were released. I hung back, letting the long shadows of the afternoon obstruct me from view. Everyone but Kassandra had already come out which had me wondering if something was wrong. After what happened, I should have high-tailed it out of there, but I wanted to make sure she was okay. Finally, she appeared with the teacher following behind.

"I hope you feel better," the teacher said as she locked the door.

"Thanks."

She had her arms wrapped around her midsection like she had a stomach-ache or something. I would have gladly suffered through multiple poundings from my father to erase her pain. When she finally reached her car, she slumped in the driver’s seat, resting her head on the steering wheel. I felt like the biggest ass on the planet. That was it. From now on, I would stay out of her hair. I had done enough damage.

Megan watched me closely as I drove home after picking her up with a couple take-out bags on the seat next to me. “I’m fine, Peanut,” I said, looking at her in the rearview mirror. “I just have a stomach ache.” Megan was already overly observant, and since the accident, she had become extremely sensitive to when we were sick. Even without talking, I knew she was deathly afraid that something was going to happen to me or Mom. The smallest of sniffles had her on guard and watching us like a hawk.

She relaxed slightly back into her seat, but kept her eyes focused on my face in the rearview mirror.

Several minutes later, we piled out of the car juggling our dinner and book bags. Stepping into the entryway of the house, Megan and I were assaulted by aromas coming from the kitchen that we hadn’t smelled in months.

Someone was cooking dinner.

Megan shot me a startled look and I shrugged, equally puzzled. We set our bags down on the long wooden bench that ran along the wall under the staircase and headed toward the kitchen.

We both pushed open the swinging door together and sure enough, there was Mom over multiple pots on the stove. My mouth began to water and my stomach growled in anticipation, but it was the sight of my mom in front of the stove that evoked the biggest response out of me.

“Mom, you’re cooking?” I choked out through the lump in my throat.

“I figured it was time.”

“Really?” I asked incredulously. “You even when out to get the groceries?” I added, noting the empty Publix bags on the counter.

“Yes, really,” she said, sighing heavily as she sat on one of the high back bar stools at the island in the center of the kitchen. “Last night was a rude awakening for me. I realized after your teacher left just how selfish I've acted. I piled all the responsibility on you when you needed me the most,” she said wringing her hands.

“It’s okay, Mom, I understand. We all…”

“Thanks, honey," she interrupted. "But I know I’ve let you both down,” she said looking pointedly at Megan who was standing in the middle of the kitchen. “Your father would be disappointed in the way I’ve acted and I just hope you girls can forgive me,” she added, getting up and stooping down in front of Megan. “Okay, Peanut?” she asked.

Megan nodded her head slightly, but more pessimistically than I would have expected. It became clear at that moment that Mom shutting us out had affected Megan way more than I had realized.

My mom must have realized it too by the look she shot my way. I shrugged my shoulders equally puzzled, but joined in on the group hug to offer Megan some affirmation.

“So, I'm really excited to see your new school, okay, Peanut?” she said, wiping her hands on her apron as she stood up. “And then after school, you and I are going to visit with a friend of mine,” she added, stirring the bubbling sauce on the stove.

“Really? Who?” I asked, dunking a piece of garlic bread into the sauce.

“My old college roommate, Brenda, she's a family psychologist with a practice in Altamonte. I was hoping you might come too, but I understand if you don't feel comfortable."

“I don't know. I already have to spill my guts to Mrs. Leighton a couple days a week,” I said, snatching up another piece of bread.

She smacked lightly at my hand. “Those are for dinner,” she said, dumping the boiling noodles into the colander in the sink.

It was such a relief having our mom back. I sat down on the barstool she had vacated and watched as she buzzed around the kitchen effortlessly. I had always admired her culinary skills since I was definitely no Iron Chef in the kitchen.

“So, how's detention?” she asked, raising her eyebrow at me like only she could.

“Awful,” I answered, without reiterating further.

“Why, did they do make you write ‘I must not cuss out my teachers' in blood or something?” she asked, making light of my tone.

“Funny,” I mumbled, leaping off the stool and heading for the swinging door.

“Wait, I was teasing. Why was it awful?” she asked, looking concerned.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, pushing the door open.

“Kassandra, wait. I know I haven’t been there for you over the last few months, but I plan on changing that.”

“Don’t worry Mom, I got it,” I said, mad at myself for saying anything in the first place.

“I’m here for you Kassandra,” she said, grasping onto my hand. I just couldn’t tell if she was trying to convince me or herself.

“Okay,” I said, breaking away from her grasp before she pried anything more out of me. “Sheesh, I think I miss the zombie,” I muttered taking the stairs two at a time.

***

The music from my alarm clock blared much sooner than I expected. Endless tossing and turning, and worrying about facing him again not only made sleep impossible, but got me no closer to a solution. I threw on my favorite sweat pants and hoodie, slid into my flip-flops, scraped my hair back into a messy bun, and swiped a quick coat of lip gloss onto my lips before heading out of my room.

I opened Megan’s door to get her up, but was surprised to find her bedroom empty. I hurried downstairs to find her, sliding to a stop outside the kitchen door when I heard my mom chattering away. Pushing the door open, I found Megan sitting at the counter while Mom fluttered around the kitchen making a gourmet breakfast spread.

“What’s all this?” I asked, snatching a piece of bacon.

“Breakfast,” Mom answered, seeing my skepticism. “What?” she asked defensively.

“Nothing.” Maybe this was just another stage of her grief process.

“I’m fine,” she said as if she could read my mind. “I’m not being obsessive. I just did a lot of soul searching the other night and decided it was time to act like the adult. Besides, I missed all this,” she added, ruffling Megan’s hair as she grabbed the OJ out of the fridge.

“Should I pick up dinner tonight?” I asked as we all settled at the island to eat. We opted to eat in the kitchen since we weren’t quite ready to face the dining room which held so many memories. My dad had been all about family meals together. He had set the rule years ago that we could be as silent as we wanted during mealtime after we shared at least three things about our day. When I was little, I would exceed my three things tenfold, chattering away about mundane things like not getting the swing I wanted at recess or the fact that Luke had pulled my braid again during art class. As the years progressed, my chatter lessened until it became a burden to try to come up with three things I was willing to share with my family.

“No, we'll be back by then, and I plan on making a meatloaf tonight.”

“Sounds good,” I said, grabbing my book bag. “Ready, Peanut?” I asked.

“I’m going to take her today,” Mom said, smiling at Megan. “But, ummm—Kass, do you plan on wearing that to school?”

“Sure, it’s comfortable,” I said, looking down at my clothes.

“I’m sure it is, but do you think it’s appropriate for school?”

“It’s worked for me the last couple months,” I said defensively.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the defensive, honey. I was just wondering what your friends think of your new casual look.”

“I’m sure if they were still my friends they would hate it,” I said, pushing through the swinging kitchen door before she could say anything else. I felt my cheeks heat up as I threw my bag in the passenger seat and cranked the engine. It embarrassed me to admit I didn’t have any friends anymore, with the exception of Colton. Sometimes, I wished I could rewind time and retract the fateful text I had sent Lacey that night, even if she had shown her true colors afterward. Either way, the whole situation sucked.

Since I didn’t have the usual detour of taking Megan to school, I pulled into the student parking lot twenty minutes earlier than normal.

I scooted the driver’s seat all the way back so I could prop up my feet, deciding to check out Facebook for a few minutes. I scrolled through my messages and clicked on a few I had missed the previous day. Reading the comments made me feel less ostracized. Some of the responses to Lacey’s snarky posts even made me smile. Since we had never dropped each other as Facebook friends, her status updates still crossed my timeline. They were as superficial as usual, like when she complained about the rude clerk at Starbucks who had screwed up her iced caramel latte. I started to click out of the thread when a comment with an avatar of a smirking smiley face caught my eye.

Maybe she was just preoccupied looking at the stick that was up your ass, the unknown smiley face person had posted. The comment had opened a floodgate of replies from Lacey and her supporters, but I couldn’t help giggling as I reread the words. It's funny that she didn't even remove the comment, but you had to know Lacey personally to understand. I think it stroked her gigantic ego even more to see all the replies in her defense. Just like in seventh grade when she adopted a new strut because she thought it would draw attention to her ass.

Still smiling, I scrolled down to an older post where Lacey was trying to drum up likes for a fan page she had started. She offered a virtual kiss to anyone that liked her fan page. Once again, I couldn’t help laughing when I saw the smirking face had struck again.

Not sure where your lips have been, so I feel I should pass on ‘liking’ anything of yours. I was actually starting to like this mysterious person—the Lacey Corps, not so much, judging by the outpouring of support in her defense.

I made my way through several more posts, searching for my new hero and found several more snide remarks. I tried to click on his or her profile, but a message stating that the account was no longer active popped up. Puzzled, I wondered if it was possible he or she had hacked into Facebook.

Slamming car doors pulled me away from my Facebook stalking. I glanced up and was startled to find the student parking lot crowded with cars and students as they piled out of their cars heading for the building. Putting my iPhone in my bag, I opened the car door and followed the herd toward the next eight hours of torture, nine for me, since of course, I had detention.

The morning classes passed in their normal snail's pace as the teachers harped on the end of term finals coming the following week. I dreaded the exams, but the prospect of winter break made me wish they would hurry up and get here.

Instead of heading for my normal hideout in the school library for lunch, I headed to the administration wing for my lunch/meeting with Mrs. Leighton.

“Hey,” a junior I had seen around said as I approached the raised receptionist counter.

“How's it going? I have a meeting with Mrs. Leighton,” I mumbled.

The girl shot me a sympathetic look. No one liked wasting their lunch break in a counselor’s office. She pressed the intercom button on her phone.

“Yes,” Mrs. Leighton’s sunny voice chirped over the line.

“Kassandra, is here to see you Mrs. M.”

It was no surprise that she knew my name. Even without the accident, my cheerleading and extracurricular activities had put me in the limelight for years. It was hard to believe there was a time that I had thrived on the attention and even felt I deserved it.

“Send her back.”

“Okie-dokie.

I shuffled down the brightly lit hallway, pausing outside her door to take a deep breath. Finally, after a moment, I knocked softly, hoping against hope she wouldn’t hear my knock.

“Come in, Kassandra,” she said brightly as I swung the door open.

I entered her bright office that was filled with knickknacks that suited her personality to perfection. There were framed quotes and funny acronyms scattered throughout the room.

“Kassandra, I’m so glad you came to see me today,” she proclaimed, like I had a choice in the matter.

I worked to control my unladylike snort at her comment. “Yeah, well, I really didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Well, you could have chosen to skip out on me,” she said, studying me intently like she was trying to peer into my soul.

“Yeah, I guess, but then I might’ve wound up in summer school and that would have sucked major as… err, butt,” I said, correcting my slip.

“So, Kassandra—this has been a tough year, huh?” she asked, relaxing back in her chair.

“You think?” I couldn’t help snipping at her.

“I pulled your transcripts. Your grades are excellent, which was a huge contributing factor Ms. Nelson took into consideration when she was deciding whether to suspend you. Can you tell me what brought on the change in your grades?”

“I’ve always gotten good grades,” I said defensively.

“You went from a grade point average of a three point two to a four point zero. That’s a huge jump in two months time.”

“I guess I just have more time for schoolwork,” I mumbled, not wanting to tell her the real reason.

“I understand you dropped out of your extracurricular activities and have more time, but I'm wondering if there might be a deeper reason that is driving you,” she said.

I shrugged my shoulders, remaining silent while I picked at my pants. One minute dragged into two and by the time the third minute rolled around, I finally looked up to find her watching me.

“Fine," I sighed. "I fixed my grades because it would’ve made my dad happy,” I said in a thick voice.

“Yes,” she prompted.

Sighing again, I finally relented. “I know my dad would've liked to see me apply myself more. He always said I had so much potential, but I would always brush him off, and now I wish I wouldn’t have.”

“Kassandra, I'm quite sure your father was proud of you,” she said earnestly.

“How could you know that?” I said, standing up aggravated. She knew nothing about my family.

“Because, you were his daughter,” she said to my backside as I jerked the door open.

“Well, I wasn’t a very good one,” I said quietly before fleeing down the hallway before she could ask any more questions.

I hid out in the bathroom for the remainder of the lunch period, trying to control my erratic heartbeat that threatened mutiny at the mere mention of what I had done.

My sour mood followed me through the rest of my classes, and by the time I made it to detention, I was ready to tear him up if he even dared to look at me. I sat in a different seat than I had the day before that was closer to the exit, so I could leave in a hurry if my emotions got out of control.

A different teacher's aide had the guard duty today. He was too busy texting to look up at me as I signed in. I scanned the area as I sat down and saw only one other person on the far side of the auditorium. Obviously, the rest of the student body was smart enough to avoid detention on a Friday afternoon. Squinting in the dim light, I tried to make out the other occupant and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was this girl Natalie that I knew vaguely.

Thank goodness he wasn’t coming today, I couldn’t help thinking as I pulled my phone out of my bag. The door swung open and sunlight flooded the space where I was sitting. My heart dropped like a stone as the silhouette from the one person I didn’t want to see walked in.

Without looking at me, he picked a seat on the other side of the aisle, several rows down. I was relieved he wouldn’t be in such close proximity, but the fact that I could still see him made the sleeping angry giant inside of me roar to life. Tearing my eyes from the back of his head, I angrily tapped the Facebook button on my phone, hoping to lose myself in some social drama for the next hour.

Unfortunately, Facebook held no appeal for me at the moment as my eyes kept drifting back to where he was seated. If he sensed my anger he didn’t acknowledge it as he gently used his drum sticks to beat against his jean clad thigh.

Time seemed to be moving backward as I continuously looked at my watch willing the time to move forward. Each passing moment so close to him only seemed to intensify the turbulent emotions I was feeling.

Halfway through detention, Natalie left to go to the bathroom and then never came back. If the teacher's aide noticed, he never gave any inclination since he was still texting madly on his phone. With fifteen minutes to spare, his phone rang with the most annoying tone I had ever heard.

“Dude, what’s up?” he answered. “Nah, I can’t right now, I’m still at work,” he paused as the caller said something. “No shit,” he exclaimed, finally noticing that I was watching him.

“Bro, I got to call you back in a few,” he said before clicking the off button. “You two have ten minutes left and then you can head out,” he said, grabbing up his backpack before heading out the door.

Seriously? I thought. He left me here alone with the last person on earth I wanted to be near. I felt like screaming as I caught him slowly turn to look at me as if he felt the same pressure buildup I was feeling.

His intense stare was more than I could handle and finally blew.

“I hate you!” I said with more venom in my voice than should have been humanly possible.

“I know,” he said simply without breaking eye contact.

It was wrong to feel elated at this particular moment, but I was just happy she was finally talking to me. Even glaring at me like I was the devil himself, she was more beautiful than should have been legal.

“I hate you!” she said.

“I know,” I replied, meeting her stare head on.

“I HATE YOU!” she yelled, standing to her feet.

“I know,” I said again, feeling like my heart was been dragged across hot coals.

She was shaking from head to toe as she jerked her bag up off the seat next her.

“Why didn’t you stop him from driving that day? You had to know he was drinking.”

I nodded my head, acknowledging her words.

“Then why? Why would you let him risk other people's lives like that?”

“You think I don’t regret it? That I wish I would have provoked him, made him take his anger out on me before passing out on the couch like he had so many times before that? It wouldn’t have taken much. One word from me would have set him off, but I didn’t, and I can’t change that now,” I said, furious at myself.

“I hate you,” she said one last heartbreaking time, looking like she wanted to cry, but refused. Instead, she stood strong and tall in front of me, just like she had when I saw her on Channel Six News. This was the girl I had fallen for. She was braver and stronger than I had ever been.

“I know,” I said quietly as she turned and fled out the auditorium, like the hounds of hell were chasing her.

I sank down in the seat with my head in my hands. The elation I felt earlier drifted away, replaced by a gaping hole in my chest.

“Yo, let's go man,” the annoyed aide said, standing in the doorway.

“So go,” I said sarcastically from my seat.

“Come on, I need to lockup,” he said, clearly aggravated.

“Fine,” I replied, taking out my frustration on him as I shoved past.

“Chill out, it's Friday, you should be happy,” he complained as I made my way to the used Toyota my aunt had bought me the previous month when she got her quarterly bonus from work. I felt guilty as hell that she had spent her hard earned money on me, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

At a time like this, I was grateful she hadn’t listened to my arguments because riding the bus after a day like today would have seriously sucked. Kassandra’s angry face flashed through my head as I shifted into drive and drove out of the parking lot. I plugged my iPod into the auxiliary jack and tapped the volume button until the music swelled throughout the interior of the car, drowning out everything else.

The beat of the music shook the small car, but failed to erase Kassandra’s words from my head. The screaming, I could handle it was the quiet words that made me feel like a zombie had ripped my insides out for a snack.

My hands shook uncontrollably during the entire drive home. I had dreamed of that moment, to tell him exactly how I felt. I expected to feel a sense of release once I unleashed all my anger, but instead, I felt an odd sense of guilt. His quiet acceptance of my rage was unsettling. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. I wasn’t supposed to care that he had flinched each time I battered him with hateful comments, or that he agreed with everything I said. I didn’t want to know that he may have been a victim, too. This was supposed to be a victory, but instead I felt utterly defeated.

As the weekend passed, I couldn’t shake my feelings of remorse. Mom felt like going shopping though, which helped take my mind off things. Her sudden transformation should have alarmed me, but I reveled in having her almost back to normal. We spent the majority of Saturday at the mall looking for a winter wardrobe for Megan now that the Florida winter had finally begun. Living in a milder climate made winter shopping an easier task. Some new pairs of jeans, cute long-sleeve shirts and a couple hooded jackets pretty much sufficed to get a person through a central Florida winter.

Megan blossomed under Mom’s attentiveness, and by Sunday night, our house felt more normal than it had since the accident. Megan was still silent, but she seemed like she was on the verge of finally saying something.

“I think our first session with Brenda helped,” my om said, tucking her feet up under her as we sat on the couch sipping coffee while we watched some mindless show on the TV.

“You think?” I asked, turning to look at her.

“Well, I guess I should say it helped me somewhat,” she said, looking down.

“What do you mean?”

“Just how to cope with the realization that your father is gone. I know it’s irrational, but I guess I kept expecting him to come home at any minute. That’s why I didn’t want to leave the house,” she said sadly. “It wasn’t until your teacher came by that night that I realized my selfish actions were harming you and your sister.”

I didn’t say anything, but reached out and grabbed her hand like I used to do when I was little. I laid my head on her shoulder, thankful to have her acting normal again.

“I’ve missed this,” she said, giving me a kiss on top of the head.

“Me too.”

“So, tell me. What’s going on with your friends.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I said, moving back to my side of the couch. “What did Brenda have to say about Megan’s muteness?” I asked, changing the subject not so subtly.

She shot me her trademark you’re not fooling me Mom look, but gave me my space. “We really didn’t talk about it. She tried to engage Megan into the conversation in the beginning, but backed off when Megan began to retreat. Toward the end of the session, Megan was at least making eye contact,” she said, running her thumb up and down the handle of her coffee mug. “I just let everything get out of control,” she said, sighing deeply. “I don’t even like to think about what my poor baby had to endure during the accident.”

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I thought I had acknowledged what Megan went through long ago. After all, I was the one that held her hand while they casted her arm. I was the one that had to remove the bloody leotard she had been wearing while trying not to dwell on the source of the blood. I had assumed the source of Megan’s silence was the fact that my father had died, not that she was forced to remain in the car with him until help came.

I stood up abruptly, not wanting to think about it. “I have to go to bed,” I said, trying to ignore the hurt look on Mom's face. I felt guilty, but I couldn’t handle thinking about the last moments of my father’s life without being riddled with guilt. I had been such a bitch to both of them that morning. Snipping at Megan for kicking my seat and snapping at my dad for not buying me the car I wanted.

I was the one that deserved to be punished. It should have been me that died in the car accident.

***

I got out of bed the next morning grumpy from another night with little sleep. I had woken up around 1:00 am, drenched in sweat from a nightmare of being in the car with Megan and my dad during the accident. In the dream, I had been pinned against the dashboard and I was forced to watch helplessly as my father turned to me with blood streaming down his face. “Help me,” he said as I watched him slowly drift away. I reached over to help him, but the scene changed and I was no longer pinned in the car. Instead, I stood on the side of the road, watching as their car was driven off the road. I turned in horror to the stranger beside me, pleading for help to save them, but saw that the stranger was Maddon. He watched me with the same hurt expression he had worn when I screamed at him at school. “This is our fault,” he said, just before I jerked awake.

I tried in vain to go back to sleep, but the look in his eyes haunted me. I couldn’t help feeling a stir of something other than anger when I thought of him. I tried to dredge up the previous anger I felt, but all I could think about was how defeated he looked when I had screamed at him.

I was still awake when the sun came up, and I dragged myself down the stairs, wearing my favorite jeans that had been washed so many times that sections of the jeans consisted of thin strands.

“You okay?” my mom asked as I stumbled toward the coffee pot, wishing someone would invent a caffeine IV drip for occasions such as this.

“Bad dream,” I mumbled, grabbing the flavored cream I preferred out of the refrigerator.

“You want to talk about it?” she asked in her normal inquisitive way.

“No,” I said shortly, cringing at the thought of ever telling her.

“Okay, well, if you're sure,” she added, looking hurt.

“It was nothing,” I said, trying to smooth it over. “Hey, Peanut, are those pancakes with peanut butter?” I asked, looking at the stack of pancakes on her plate.

She nodded happily as she scooped a big bite into her mouth.

“Your favorite,” I said smiling at her.

“Do you want me to whip you up a batch, too?” Mom asked.

“Sure,” I answered, surprising us both. Before my dad died, I had always watched every calorie that made its way between my lips. My cheerleading uniform required me to stay as slim as I could. Being naturally curvy hadn’t helped the situation as I worked extra hard to keep my body fat down. Giving up that part of my life had allowed me to finally eat things I had been missing out on half my life. I had put on a few pounds, but felt they suited my frame better than before. And yes, I had to endure a few snide remarks from Lacey, but I didn’t take the bait. She would get hers one day. Besides, she wishes she could eat like I was now.

Mom set the plate of pancakes down in front of me and I dug into them with gusto. She watched me for a moment and then laughed.

“What?” I asked, feeling a little self-conscious.

“I’m just not used to seeing you enjoy food so much,” she said, shooting Megan a smile who returned it.

“Okay, so you guys were right. I’ve been missing out.” I said as my mom laughed out loud for the first time in months, and Megan let out a small giggle.

My mom’s smile turned wistful as she watched us, and I didn’t need mindreading skills to know what she was thinking.

Our laughter died away and we finished eating as we all tried hard not mention the person who was missing.

I arrived at school before the first bell rang and found Colton waiting for me at my locker.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, grabbing my lit book for first period.

“Not much,” he said, leaning against the wall. “So, how was your meeting with Mrs. Leighton?” he asked as we made our way down the hall.

“Ugh, don’t ask,” I said, already dreading my next meeting with her.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” he said, nudging me with his shoulder as we neared Ms. Johnson’s class.

“Believe me, it was. She’s trying to get all my deep secrets out of me like we're friends or something,” I said, making my way through the door.

“I don’t know, I think it'd be kind of nice to spill your guts to someone without worrying about who they’re going to tell,” he said, sinking down in his seat two rows from me.

I looked at him questioningly, but he kept his eyes firmly on the dry erase board at the front of the room. What a strange thing to say. Did he have something he wanted to tell me?

I waited impatiently for class to end so I could talk to him, but he was up and out of his seat the moment the bell rang. "Colton, wait." I gathered my stuff, hoping to catch him, but by the time I got out the door, he was gone. My impending meeting with Mrs. Leighton today pushed my confusion over Colton to the back burner as I contemplated using the cramps excuse to duck out and go home.

Against my better judgment, I stayed and before I knew it, fourth period was over and it was time for round two.

“Kassandra, it’s nice to see you again,” Mrs. Leighton greeted me, giving no indication of being upset about my abrupt ending to our last meeting.

I looked at her balefully, waiting for the prying to begin.

She sat back in her chair with her hands folded in her lap, watching me, but not saying a word.

I stared back, confused by her silence.

I watched the minute hand on the wall clock behind her move at an excruciatingly slow pace as the silence between us stretched on.

“I was a spoiled brat,” I finally said when I couldn’t take the oppressive silence a moment longer.

“You’re a teenager. All teenagers are brats,” she said, shooting me a small smile.

“Fine, I was a bitch,” I said, going for the shock factor.

“All women can be a bitch at one point or another,” she said, shocking me by repeating my choice of words.

I couldn’t help the small smile that crossed my lips before turning somber again. “I was one all the time. I complained constantly, and expected everything to go my way,” I said quietly, looking down at my lap.

“Kassandra, you’re a teenager, those things are expected. Your dad didn’t hold that against you.”

“How can you be so sure? He was always giving me ‘what if’ scenarios. 'What if I wasn’t a cheerleader? What would I do instead? What if I wasn’t so popular, would I miss my superficial friends?' He might as well have been talking to the wall. I would have died rather than give up cheerleading or all my friends. But I didn’t die. He did.”

“Why did you give up cheerleading?” she asked, shifting gears.

“Because,” I said, pulling on a frayed string on the knee of my jeans.

“Because why?”

“It’s what he would have wanted,” I said as the bell rang, ending lunch period. I jumped to my feet and headed for the door.

“I’ll see you Wednesday, Kassandra.”

I nodded my approval.

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to mentally prepare for detention. I convinced myself that he had most likely served his time and wouldn’t be there, but as I entered the large room, I saw him sitting in the same seat as the previous week. We were the only two students in detention again and I wondered if all the troublemakers had taken a three day weekend. The same dippy teacher's aide from Friday signed me in and was on his phone the moment I walked away. He waited around for a few minutes for any stragglers before heading outside to BS on his phone.

I sat in the back row, trying to ignore Maddon, but I couldn’t help studying the back of his head. I tried to draw my eyes away, but something about the way he was slouched over looking defeated made me question everything I had believed.

I had spent months hating him, wishing he would disappear off the face of the earth, and yet, somehow my anger for him had drained away.

“I’m sorry,” he said without turning around when our time was at the halfway mark.

“What?” I asked, not sure if he was talking to me even though we were alone.

“I said, I’m sorry,” he said, walking toward me.

“Me too, I kind of lost it Friday.”

He laughed, almost harshly. “I think you were entitled to lose it.”

“Not really. I’ve spent months blaming you for something that really wasn’t your fault. I guess I just needed someone to blame besides myself.”

“Kassandra, you weren’t wrong to blame me. I could've stopped him that day. I should've stopped him,” he said in the same defeated voice from Friday.

“How would you have stopped him?” I asked, more curious than I should have been.

“Just by talking I could've stopped him. It doesn't take much to provoke my dad,” he said bitterly.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, looking down.

“Yeah, I guess you do.”

We didn’t speak the rest of the time, but for once, the silence between us wasn’t suffocating.

We walked to the parking lot at the same time, not necessarily together, but close enough. The knots that had ravaged my gut at the beginning of detention had unraveled by the time we made our way to our cars. We didn't talk, but she lifted her chin in acknowledgement as she climbed into her SUV. I returned the nod and watched until she drove away.

I sank back against my car once she was out of sight. We had actually talked without her looking at me like she wanted to dip me in battery acid. I tried to control my heart rate. Just because she no longer wanted to hang me up by my toenails didn’t mean she suddenly shared my feelings for her.

I made the short drive home to my aunt’s house, smiling like a goon the entire way. I bounded up the three porch steps, iPod in hand, anxious to hit my room so I could rehash our conversation. My aunt was sitting on the living room couch when I let myself in. She clutched a letter in her hand and looked up at me with wide eyes.

“Great, what now?” I asked, sensing it was something bad.

“We got a letter from your father’s public defender. He wants to know if we will speak as character witnesses on his behalf.”

“Um, let me think about it. Hell NO,” I said sarcastically.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “It could help him.”

“Exactly,” I said, making my point clear. “I couldn't care less if his ass rots away in jail for the rest of his life.”

“You might change your mind later on down the road,” she said quietly.

“Dolores, I’m not going to change my mind,” I said exasperated. “Maybe he'll finally dry out,” I added, my mood significantly soured as I made my way to my room. I thought it was classic that he dared to ask for my help. After all the crap he had thrown my way over the years, all the poundings and he expected me to rescue him?

Frustrated, I threw myself on the bed and tried to dredge up the happy feelings I had before I walked through the front door. I pulled up the image in my mind of how Kassandra had looked at me in the auditorium without anger for the first time. How the corners of her mouth had pulled up slightly, like she was on the verge of smiling. Her lips were one of my favorite features, and I had spent a ridiculously insane amount of time thinking about them. Slowly, the anger and frustration left as I entertained ideas of what I would like to do with her lips at that exact moment.

I felt an odd mixture of apprehension and something akin to anxiousness the next day when I got to school. For months, the campus was the place where I might have to see him, which forced me to deal with my demons. But he was no longer an it presence. He had a name, Maddon. I rolled the name around in my head, remembering his confessions from the day before. It floored me, knowing that he dealt with the same inner turmoil that I did.

I walked through the doors, feeling lighter than I had in months. The weight of my "if onlys" had lifted. I no longer had to worry about what I would do if I saw Maddon, or what I would say to him. We’d crossed that bridge.

Colton was once again waiting by my locker. “Well, this is turning into a habit,” I said, giving him a smile.

“Wow, Kass, I think that’s the first legit smile you’ve had in months. What brought that on?”

I started to shrug my shoulders, ready to retreat back into my protective shell, but decided to be honest. “Things are just starting to feel a little less dramatic,” I said, closing my locker door.

“I bet. It was total suckage about your dad. I’d give you mine,” he joked.

“What’s the deal with you and your dad? You two always seemed so buddy-buddy.”

“Oh, we were as long as my dreams matched his dreams,” he answered sarcastically.

“What do you mean?” I asked, taking my seat.

“Just stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Stuff that’s way too intense to talk about now,” he said, looking around the room.

I followed his gaze and saw Matt and Alex, a couple of Colton’s friends studying us with scowls on their faces.

“What's the deal with that?” I asked. “Why aren’t you hanging back there with them?” I added, pissed at myself for closing myself off so entirely that I had completely missed what was going on around me.

“Just drama, like you said before,” he said, flashing me a smile that fell flat before it could reach his eyes.

“Well, crap, Colton. I’ve sucked as a friend lately, huh,” I said, reaching over to give his hand a light squeeze.

“You kind of had a good excuse,” he said, shooting me a real smile this time.

“Do you want to get together tonight and vent?”

“Can’t. I have to flip burgers tonight,” he said as Ms. Johnson started talking about our next reading assignment.

“How about at lunch?” I whispered as Ms. Johnson cleared her throat for my benefit.

He nodded his head slightly.

***

Colton was waiting for me outside my fourth period class when it ended. “Library or outside?” he asked as we headed toward our lockers to get our lunches.

“How about outside? We can soak up a little vitamin D now that it’s not so wickedly.”

“Just like a chick, always thinking of her tan,” he joked.

“Ha-ha, but I remember a certain guy strutting around all summer without a shirt so he could golden up his pecks,” I teased.

“Um, maybe because we were at the beach,” he said, trying to sound indignant.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I said, nudging him with my hip before we settled underneath one of the endless pine trees scattered throughout the campus. I spread out my jacket before I sat down, not wanting any creepy crawlies thinking I was fair game. I loved living in Florida where we could wear shorts ninety-nine percent of the year, but I could seriously live without the endless supply of bugs.

“So, what’s up with your dad?” I asked, pulling my turkey wrap out of my sandwich bag.

Colton made a production of unwrapping his own sandwich before answering. “He’s pissed that I don’t want to pursue college ball among other things,” he said, skating around the issue as he took a big bite out of his sandwich.

“You don’t?” I asked surprised.

“Nah, let’s face it, I’m just an okay player. I might’ve gotten a partial scholarship at some small school, but I would’ve most likely ridden the bench all four years.”

“That’s not true,” I argued.

“Maybe, maybe not, but it really isn’t my thing,” he said, finishing his sandwich and pulling out his chips.

“So, what is your thing?”

“School,” he said simply.

“What do you mean school?” I asked puzzled.

“I mean, I like school. I’m good at it. All these years the old man assumed I kept my grades up for football, but truthfully, it comes naturally for me.”

“Seriously? Why didn’t you ever say anything? I could've used your mad brain skills for some of my classes,” I chided.

“Now, how would it have looked to have a football stud acting like he actually enjoyed schoolwork?”

“Gasp, I could just imagine the horror,” I teased. “The moon would have been knocked off its axis, schools would have shut down, life as we knew it would be over,” I joked.

He laughed.

“Seriously, though, you'd think your dad would be proud,” I said in a more serious tone.

“Not my dad. He’s afraid it’s a sign of more things to come,” he said, pulling at the grass by his leg.

“Like what?” I asked, more confused than ever.

He looked around to see if anyone was around. “Basically, just stuff he’s recently learned about me that he’s not crazy about.”

“Ugh, you’re killing me with all this dancing around. Just tell me already,” I demanded, shooting him a smile so he would know I really wasn’t mad.

“You promise not to tell?” he asked quietly, all joking gone from his voice.

“Of course I promise. Besides, who am I going to tell?” I said, spreading my arms out to emphasize the social void my life had become.

“It’s probably going to change the way you feel about me,” he said miserably.

“I find that hard to believe, unless you tell me you’re some mass murderer or the person responsible for putting Jersey Shore on TV,” I said, trying to ease his apparent apprehension.

He didn’t return my smile and seemed to pale further as he weighed his words.

“Seriously, Colton, there’s nothing you can tell me that will change the way I feel about you,” I said, reaching over to grasp his hand.

He looked down at our hands. “I’m gay,” he said, finally meeting my eyes.

“What?” I asked incredulously.

“I’m gay,” he repeated a little more firmly. “I tried to hide it, deny it all these years, but it’s something I can’t seem to change.”

“How did I not know this?” I said, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together in my head.

“I think you did if you think back.”

I worked through his words as all the pieces finally came together. Of course he was right. I had known things were romantically off between us for years. There was absolutely no reason why we shouldn’t have worked as a couple. We both shared the same interests and likes, and enjoyed each other’s company, but each time we tried to move our relationship to the next level, it always fizzled out. We were good as friends, but could never cross the threshold into making out status.

“Dang, I guess I did,” I finally said.

“Are you mad?” he asked, looking worried.

“Mad? Heck no. You’re right. Something was always kooky about our kisses. I just assumed you didn’t like my cherry lip gloss,” I teased.

“Ha, that was the highlight of the kisses,” he said, sounding more lighthearted now that he had confessed.

“As if,” I said, punching him lightly on the bicep.

“You’re seriously okay with it?” he asked.

I nodded my head. “It’s actually a relief. Now we can be friends without worrying about you trying to grope me.”

“Like that was ever really an issue,” he teased.

“Well, in hindsight, no, but before, I was always worried that you'd want to take it to the next level. So, how did your dad find out?”

“I told him when he started riding me about football scholarships. He couldn’t understand why I wasn’t applying for any of them.”

“You can still play football,” I said.

“Nah, I don’t want to. I never wanted a career in football. I want to do something I like.”

“And what is that?” I asked curiously, feeling like I was finally getting to know him.

“I want to teach.”

“Wow, seriously? Like what grade?”

“I’m thinking college level. I’d love to be an English lit professor at some college.”

“That would be great,” I said, slightly envious that he had it all mapped out. I was still indecisive about my future. I had a stack of college applications sitting on my desk waiting to be sent out, but I was dragging my feet on them.

“How about you?” Colton asked, helping me to my feet as the bell rang.

“Don’t ask. I’m still undecided,” I said, knotting my hoodie around my waist.

“Guess a cheerleading scholarship is out?” he joked.

I returned his smile. It was surreal to think that six months ago, both our lives were set on one path, and now everything had changed. It's crazy how life works. I couldn’t help feeling a spasm of grief that my dad wasn’t here to help me find the new path I should take.

Colton and I parted ways outside his Algebra II class since I had World History for fifth period. I slid into my seat with a few minutes to spare and pulled out my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed any calls or messages.

“I don’t know I was thinking making it an all white party,” I heard Lacey say to one of her followers in the back of the room. “That way, I can wear the killer red dress I got over Thanksgiving break in New York.”

“What do you mean all white?” Mindy asked.

“I mean the guests will wear all-white,” Lacey said, making it clear she thought Mindy’s comment was ignorant.

“Oh,” Mindy said, still sounding confused.

“OMG, just wear all white or don’t dare show up,” Lacey snipped, clearly aggravated.

I kept my back to their exchange, but grimaced at Lacey’s condescending tone. I had been on the sharp end of her tongue a few times over the years and felt pity for Mindy. Unless she stood up to Lacey like I had a few years back, Lacey would only get crueler.

“But I am invited, right?” Mindy asked nervously.

“YES, unless you keep saying stupid stuff that pisses me off,” Lacey said.

I shook my head slightly to myself. It was hard to remember why I ever thought she was cool to hang with. I must have been mentally challenged at the time.

“Of course, not everyone will be invited. Certain losers will miss out on the party of the year,” she added, making her point clear.

I fought the temptation to turn around and tell her I’d rather sit through an all-day class with Mr. Mathews' than attend a party of hers, but I held my tongue.

“You’re sooo lucky. I wish my parents' would let me throw a winter party at the Heathrow Country Club,” Carrie said wistfully, sitting on the other side of Lacey.

“Don’t be a dumbass. If they threw you a party then it would interfere with mine,” Lacey said meanly.

“Oh, I meant on a different night,” Carrie said apologetically, trying to explain.

Lacey’s response was cut off when Mr. Lewis entered the room.

“We'll be watching a film on the English Civil War, or you may have heard of it referred to as the English Revolution. I would advise you to take extensive notes since I will be handing out a thirty question quiz at the conclusion of the film,” he said sternly, eyeing Lacey and her cronies as they continued to whisper in the back row.

“Ms. Harris, do I need to switch your seat?” he asked Lacey.

“Um, no, sir. Mindy was just asking me for a pencil since she didn’t come to class prepared,” Lacey said sweetly, ignoring Mindy’s gasp of dismay at being thrown under the bus.

“Whatever the reason, please refrain from talking,” he said as he lowered the screen from the ceiling and turned on the overhead projector.

Ignoring the trio in back, I spent the class period scribbling notes from the film and then taking the quiz which proved to be relatively easy.

I managed to keep any thoughts of detention at bay throughout the majority of the day, but as seventh hour drew to a close, my apprehension from this morning began to creep in. Now that we had hashed things out, would Maddon ignore me, moving on with his life, or would he still want to talk? I tried to reason with myself that it shouldn’t matter either way. Why should I care what he did? Our lives were completely different, yet for some undefined reason, I did care.

Once again, I was the first person to reach the auditorium. I sat in the back row again, waiting anxiously as a few students straggled in. Maddon arrived a few minutes later. I watched from my vantage point as he scanned the dim space, obviously searching for something. After a moment, his eyes finally found mine. He shot me a tentative smile before heading down the row directly in front of me.

“Hey,” he said, turning sideways in his seat so he could see me.

“Hey,” I said, feeling a sudden shyness around him that I normally didn’t feel with guys.

“So, how many more days of jail do you have left?” he asked.

“Until Friday,” I said grimacing “How about you?”

“My sentence is done after tomorrow,” he said, shooting me a crooked grin.

“Lucky,” I said.

“Hey, at least your sentence was for something worthwhile,” he said.

“Oh God, you heard about that?” I asked, embarrassed that so many people knew I had lost it in class.

“The whole school knows,” he said laughing. “You’re like everyone’s hero. Badass to the core.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” I said, flushing at his admiring tone.

“Are you kidding me? We’ve all dreamed of putting Matthews in his place. You made history. It was so epic.”

I giggled at his words. “Epic?”

“Hey, trust me. If anything ever was epic, that was it.”

“Well, I'm glad I could inspire everyone,” I teased.

He laughed out loud at my words, making the other students turn to look at us curiously. I couldn’t help wondering if they thought it was tactless for me to be fraternizing with the person whose father had changed my life so drastically.

I sobered up at the thought. What was I doing? Sure, I no longer blamed Maddon for the accident, but it still didn’t erase the fact that his father had committed a heinous crime.

“Does it matter what they think?” he asked quietly, somehow reading what I was thinking.

“How'd you know that’s what I was thinking?” I asked intrigued.

“Your face is like an open book. I can tell every emotion you’re feeling by the way your eyes look,” he said intensely, making me wonder if he really could see through the mask I had erected.

I shifted back in my seat. I wasn’t crazy about the idea of him knowing me in a way that seemed so intimate. The silence between us stretched uncomfortably, and eventually he turned back around in his seat while I fiddled around on my phone.

I let out a huge sigh of relief when the hour ended and we could escape the oppressively thick silence between us. Scooping up my stuff in one movement, I fled the auditorium after throwing a halfhearted goodbye at him.

I sank heavily in my car seat, shaking slightly from being around him. Unlike the week before where I shook uncontrollably from anger, this was something entirely different. He somehow managed to work his way under my protective shield which was ironic since he was a big part of why the shield was there in the first place.

She was gone by the time I made it to the parking lot. “Mother f,” I said, pounding a fist against the roof of my car.

“Real slick, Maddon, why don’t you just tell her you sneak into her house at night and watch her sleep,” I muttered to myself, sliding the key into the door lock.

“Talking to yourself at such a young age can’t be a good thing,” a voice dripping with honey said from behind me.

I turned around to face the one person I had been trying to avoid for weeks. “Hey, Miranda, how’s it going,” I said, leaning against the car.

“Fine. If you consider hooking up with some guy at a gig and never hearing from him again, fine,” she said, all the sweetness gone from her voice.

I sighed. “Look Miranda, I thought you understood when we hooked up. It was just a one-night thing,” I said, hating that I even needed to explain this. I had been very careful not to make any promises the night we had been together.

“Yeah, but I thought we shared a connection,” she said, sticking her lower lip out in a pout that just a couple months ago I would have considered sexy.

“Really?” I asked her, pointing out how awkward it was afterward when we had nothing to talk about.

“Well, it was good during wasn't it?” she asked, grasping at straws.

“Of course it was,” I said, not wanting to be a dick. “I’m just not ready to settle down.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun once in a while,” she added, stepping close to me so she could run her hand up my arm. Her perfume swirled around, but it no longer appealed to my senses.

“Look, now’s just not the best time for me,” I said, stepping to the side to break the contact.

“You sure? You seem upset. Maybe I can help,” she said with the honey back in her voice as she placed her hand on the back of my neck so she could drag my lips to hers.

I broke the connection before our lips could meet. “Look, I didn’t want to hurt you, but there’s kind of someone else,” I finally admitted.

“That’s okay, she wouldn’t have to know,” she said brazenly as she pressed her body against mine.

“Come on, Miranda, I said no.”

“Fine, your loss,” she said, backing away in a huff. “Don’t think I’ll be this generous when you come crawling back.”

“Not likely,” I muttered to myself as I climbed into my car. I had to laugh at the irony of the situation. One girl was throwing herself at me while the other was running from me. Now, if I could get them to flip-flop…

“Last day,” I said to myself as I headed to detention. I could do this. One more day and both he and I could resume our separate lives. For some reason, I felt oddly sad about it, but I shook it off. “There’s nothing to be sad about,” I tried to convince myself as I claimed my regular seat in the auditorium.

“Hey,” Maddon said, coming in right after me.

“Hey,” I answered, smiling slightly. “Last day for you, huh?”

“Yep. Freedom is within my grasp.”

“Lucky you,” I said, trying for sarcasm. “I’ll probably be all by myself the next two days,” I said, indicating the empty room. “Looks like I’m the only person dumb enough to get in trouble the week before winter break.”

“I could keep you company,” he said, lightly tapping the back of the seat with his drumsticks.

“What? No, that’d be insane,” I said. “Who’d come to detention if they didn’t have to?”

“Well, I didn’t mean I’d keep you company here,” he said smiling.

“Very funny, you’re a regular old comedian,” I said, making a grab for one of his drumsticks. “Why do you carry these around all the time?” I asked. “Are you trying to look cool or do you really play?”

“Baby, I’m cool regardless, but I do play,” he said in a husky voice.

I wasn't usually a fan of being called “baby,” but something about the way he said it didn’t seem as bad. It was actually kind of hot.

“Ha, whatever helps you sleep at night junior,” I said, trying to sound normal.

“Junior?” he asked, raising his eyebrow at me.

“Just trying to keep it real,” I teased.

“That’s fine, because we both know I’m all man,” he said, striking a pose.

I couldn’t help but giggle at how ridiculous he looked.

“Anyway…” I said, holding up the drumstick.

“I guess I carry them around because I feel lost without them,” he answered in a more serious tone. “They’re about the only constant thing I have going in my life right now.”

My stomach turned at his words. His honesty was a brutal reminder of what we had both been through, but at the very least, I still had Mom and Megan.

“Besides, the chicks dig ‘em,” he said, trying to lighten the mood back up.

“Do you miss your dad?” I asked out of nowhere.

He looked shocked, and I instantly wanted to retract the words. What the hell was I doing dredging this up?

“Sorry,” I said, looking down at my hands.

“No, it’s cool,” he answered. Then he reached over unexpectedly and grasped my hand in his. The warmth of his hand completely enclosed mine, making my pulse race erratically. “No Kassandra, I don’t miss him. I wish he was the one who had died,” he said intensely.

“You shouldn’t say that,” I said, surprised by his honesty.

“Why? It’s true,” he said, releasing my hand.

“I don’t know. It’s just, he’s your dad. You know, ugh, I don’t know what to say.”

“I get what you’re trying to say, but he’s a drunk and a loser, Kassandra, Plain and simple.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling bad for him. My grief for my father shadowed me every second of everyday, but at least my memories of him were filled with love and guidance.

“Don’t be. You’re loss is greater than mine.”

“That’s why I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to gently pat his hand that was resting on the back of his seat.

“How do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Feel sympathy for me when I don’t deserve it. How can you be so kind and compassionate?”

I snorted in an unladylike manor at his words. “Kind and compassionate? Obviously, you didn’t know me before,” I said, brushing off his ridiculous comment.

“I saw you around school before it happened. I have a pretty good idea of the person you were,” he said.

This was one of those moments where my previous reputation was kind of embarrassing. Not that it should matter if he knew how shallow I had been, but for some reason it did. “So you know I was a bitch,” I said, meeting his eyes.

“I know you hung with a bunch of bitches is all I’m saying.”

“Don’t kid yourself. I was the queen,” I said, a little louder than necessary.

“Just because you hang out with bitches doesn’t make you one,” he said, matching my tone.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, finding it ironic I was trying to convince him of what a bitch I used to be.

“Oh, come on. You’ve seen the guys I hang out with, right? Tell me you don’t have some kind of preconceived idea of what kind of person I am.”

“I don’t know,” I lied, not wanting to offend him.

“Yeah, right,” he said, letting me know I hadn’t fooled him.

“I’d say you were a stoner.”

“Exactly, but would it surprise you to know I’ve never—ever done drugs, or drank any booze, or even tried smoking for that matter?”

“Seriously?” I asked amazed. I wasn’t a fan of drinking, but even I had done my fair share when I was with Lacey. I hated the taste, but it was all part of playing the popularity role.

“Yeah, seriously. My dad drove my mom away because of that shit.”

“Your mom left?” I asked, feeling like a heel.

“Yeah, years ago, right after my fifth birthday.”

“What?” I asked incredulously. What kind of mom leaves he son behind with an abusive alcoholic father.

“It was no biggie,” he said, trying to sound tough.

“Right,” I said skeptically.

“I survived,” he shrugged. “Besides, we were talking about you.”

“We were?” I asked, trying to sound dense.

“Nice try, Charlie Brown. Yes, we were talking about you. Just because you surrounded yourself with airheads didn’t mean you fit the mold. Pretending you’re something doesn’t mean you’ve succeeded.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, glancing at my cell to check the time. I was surprised the hour had gone by so quickly. He was easy to talk to.

Maddon and I stood up together and he trailed me out of the building.

“Kassandra, I’m serious,” he said, tugging on my hand to stop my forward motion.

“Why does it even matter to you?” I asked, feeling exasperated that he was pursuing the issue.

“Because, I don’t like the idea that you think so little of yourself,” he said.

“Why?” I said, throwing his hand off mine in frustration.

“Does it matter why?” he asked in a pleading voice.

“Oh, forget it,” I said, stomping off in a huff. I mean, seriously, what did he want from me?

“Kassandra, wait,” he said, jogging to catch up to me as I unlocked my car.

“Why?” I asked, repeating my question from earlier.

He sighed loudly and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Because I like you,” he finally said, meeting my eyes.

“You don’t even know me,” I whispered.

“I know more than you realize,” he said, withdrawing his hands out of his pockets and stepping close to me. “And what I know is pretty amazing,” he added, inches from me.

I took a half step back until my back was pressed up against the door of my SUV. “This is wrong,” I said as my heart galloped out of control.

“Why?” he asked, bracketing his hands on either side of me, pinning me against the side of the vehicle in a non-threatening way.

“Because just a week ago I still detested you.”

“Fair enough, but do you still detest me now?” he asked, accentuating the word.

“No,” I said quietly, confused at the emotions he was evoking in me.

“Give me a chance,” he said.

“But your dad…” I said, voicing the reason we would never work.

“My dad’s done enough to us. Why should he get the chance to continue dictating our lives?” he said, placing his right hand on my shoulder. He slowly moved it down my arm, making it tingle. His hand continued to travel down until he was clasping my hand in his.

“Give me a chance,” he repeated, bringing our clasped hands up between us.

“This is insane,” I whispered.

“Maybe, but in a good way.”

“What if you find out I don’t live up to this crazy illusion you seem to have about me?” I asked.

“Kassandra, you’re just going to have to trust me on this,” he said, leaning forward to kiss the knuckles of the hand he held.

I shivered as his breath left a trail of heat against my skin.

“Okay,” I finally conceded.

“You’ll go out with me tomorrow night? he asked, kissing the palm of my hand. My knees went weak as I sagged against the car door.

“Where?” I finally squeaked out.

“My band jams every Thursday night on some property Drake’s family owns. We can grab a bite to eat afterward.”

“Okay,” I said again, sounding like a parrot.

“Should I pick you up?” he asked.

Reality sank in at his words. There was no way I could bring him home. My mom had just recently started to function again. I couldn’t imagine how she would handle me dating someone who should be considered the enemy.

“Don’t over-think it,” he said, studying my face.

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Told you, you’re an open book to me,” he said, stroking the side of his hand down my face to emphasize the point.

“Whatever,” I said, enjoying his hand on my skin way more than I should. “I’ll meet you there,” I said, finally breaking the contact as I opened my car door. “Text me the directions,” I added, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“How do you know I have your cell phone number?” he asked, placing an arm across the top of the door.

I raised my eyebrows at him.

He laughed out loud. “Okay, I do have it, but it’s not like I’m a stalker or anything. Besides, I got it from your Facebook profile.”

“I didn’t know we were Facebook friends,” I said puzzled.

His grin said it all. “I guess you could say I’m handy with computers,” he said, laughing at my expression.

“Right,” I said, suddenly curious if he was the Facebook phantom I had seen on Lacey’s page.

He closed the door before I could ask him any other questions.

I slowly pulled out of the parking lot feeling surprisingly okay with my decision. Even if everything about the situation would look wrong to others, and my mom would have a coronary if she ever found out, agreeing to go out with him felt like the first real thing I had done in forever.

***

By the next morning, I guess the ether had worn off because my optimistic attitude was long gone and I felt like a complete traitor for going out with him. I had made a promise to myself after dad died that I wouldn’t do anything for selfish reasons ever again. And yet, I was considering going out with Maddon and ignoring the feelings of my mom and Megan. What kind of person does that make me?

All day I struggled with the decision to go or not. I didn’t want to betray my family, but in the end, I wound up giving my mom some vague excuse about going out, knowing she probably wouldn’t question it.

“That’s fine, dear. I can’t remember the last time you went out,” she said, playing Go Fish with Megan, which was a trial since Megan didn’t speak. The majority of the game centered on flashing the card you were seeking.

“You sure you don’t need me tonight?” I asked, looking for an excuse that would end the battle raging inside me.

“We’ll be fine,” she repeated a little defensively. “Go have fun.”

“Okay,” I said. “If you’re sure.”

“Kassandra, go.”

I grabbed my keys and purse off the loveseat where I had left them and planted a kiss on top of Megan’s head. “Ask for that one,” I said, tapping one of the cards in her hand.

“Hey,” Mom said, trying to sound indignant.

“Love you Mom,” I said laughing as I gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, which was a ritual I had felt I was too old for by the time I was ten, but had reinitiated once the accident happened.

“Drive safe and text me when you get there.”

“Gotcha,” I replied before closing the door behind me.

My smile disappeared once the door separated us. This was crazy. I should turn around and go back inside, I told myself, and yet, my feet seemed to have a mind of their own as they continued to propel me toward my car.

By the time I reached the garage where Maddon’s band was playing, I was a complete mess. I sat with my head resting on the steering wheel for a moment, gathering myself when a tap on the driver’s side window startled me. Looking up, I saw Maddon on the other side of the door.

“Too late to turn back now,” I mumbled to myself as I opened the door and stepped out into the cool Florida winter breeze.

“Hey,” I said, standing in front of him.

“Hey yourself. Are you okay?” he asked, looking concerned.

“I’m fine,” I said, looking up into his eyes that were as dark as the night around us.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“I’m still not sure it was the best idea,” I answered truthfully.

“Hey, you showed up, I’m happy,” he replied huskily in my ear.

His close proximity made it even tougher to breath. I had dated plenty of guys over the years, but had never felt so many conflicting emotions at once. My mind told me that we shouldn’t be together, but my body and heart protested otherwise.

“Come on,” he said, linking his fingers with mine. “I go on in ten minutes,” he added, dragging me toward the garage that was easily two stories high and looked like it could have housed a dozen vehicles at once.

“Wow, when you said you played in Drake’s garage, I was expecting a typical two-car garage,” I said as he placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me through the opening where the big doors had been slid to the side.

“Yeah, it’s cool his dad lets us jam here. Plus, there’s plenty of parking,” he said.

The interior of the building took me as much by surprise as the exterior. I had expected dark stinky quarters with cobwebs everywhere, but instead, the building was as bright as a grocery store and looked equally as clean. Even the dim corners where the lights didn’t quite reach looked as well kept as the rest of the space. The concrete beneath our feet looked like a broom had recently swept over it. Glancing around, I spotted a makeshift stage that was easily more than twenty feet long and ten feet wide. Several electric guitars stood on stands behind a large gleaming drum set. Wires crisscrossed along the stage, leading to the multiple instruments. A couple of guys I recognized from school were warming up on their instruments. Clumps of people stood in front of the stage chatting while they waited for the band to start.

“I need to get up there,” Maddon said, grasping my fingers momentarily in his hand. “Will you be okay?” he asked.

“Sure, I’ll be standing off to the side like a groupie, but just don’t expect me to throw my panties up on stage,” I teased.

“Well nuts, that’s the only reason I invited you along,” he joked, tugging lightly on a lock of hair before loping off toward the stage.

I watched him pull his drumsticks out of his back pocket before settling down on the small black padded stool behind the drums that dominated the stage. He looked my way and grinned before focusing on adjusting the cymbals and drums to better suit his purposes.

Surprisingly, the size of the crowd grew and their excitement along with it. I could feel it pulsating around me as I stepped back against the far wall so that the more eager groupies could swamp the area in front of the stage. Leaning back against the wall, I studied the crowd and found that most of them were students I had shared classes with over the years. They were joking around and talking, animated in their actions and obviously excited to be together. I couldn’t help comparing them with my smaller group I used to hang out with. Though we had spent a lot of time together, we never seemed to share the closeness that this group shared in their common love of the group on the stage.

Someone by the door turned off the overhead lights so that the only light sources were the large halogen lamps on either side of the stage. The lighting illuminated the band members, making them the focal point. Drake stepped up to the microphone with an electric guitar in hand.

“All right, guys, we’re Forever Changed, and we all thank you for coming out for another Thursday jam session. We appreciate your donations at the door and hope you enjoy the show,” he said, flashing a smile that gathered more than a few squeals from the crowd.

“I’ll enjoy it more if you take your shirt off,” a girl from my Algebra II class yelled.

Loud cheering followed her request. “Take your shirt off, take your shirt off,” the girls in the crowd chanted, making Drake laugh.

“Well, darling, you know I’m not that easy. You’re going to have to show your appreciation for the music before you get treated to a show,” he said, grinning wolfishly.

His comment raised several catcalls as the girls in the crowd made a show of fanning themselves.

I couldn’t help the grin that slid across my face. They looked like naturals up there.

I moved my eyes to Maddon and saw that he was looking directly at me as the group launched into their first song. I wasn’t sure what to expect when he had asked me to come hear him play, maybe a couple guys screwing around, playing songs that dominated the airwaves on most pop stations. Their music had more of a rock edge than I normally listened to, but something about it drew me in. Drake’s voice poured out through the microphone like warm honey, seducing every female in the vicinity.

Though I joined in with the crowd to whoop it up for Drake, it was Maddon behind the drums that had me enthralled as he pounded out the beat of the music effortlessly. Every so often during the chorus of the song, he would croon out the lyrics in the sexiest voice I had ever heard. Even with sweat beading up on his forehead, I had to admit, he looked hot up there. I had spent my life surrounded by sweaty individuals with my active involvement in sports, but it never looked this good on anyone.

I fought the urge to move closer to the stage so I could see him more clearly without the crowd obstructing my view. I just felt more comfortable back in the shadows.

After four songs, they took a break and Maddon hopped off the stage and headed toward me.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, taking a swig of water with sweat glistening on his forehead.

I reached up to wipe his head, but stopped myself at the last moment. His eyes darkened as he saw my attempt. He reached down and grabbed my hand. Without saying a word, he moved it up to his hair that I had been dying to touch. I ran my fingers through the damp locks, focusing on his eyes as he shifted his body, bringing us as close as possible without actually touching. I flicked my tongue out and nervously licked my lips a moment before he dropped his lips on mine. I sighed lightly as his warm supple lips claimed ownership. The air around us seemed to sizzle with desire, and he kissed me like I was a delicacy that he wanted to savor. His gentle touch was my undoing as I tightened my hold on his head, dragging him closer to me, wanting more.

He pulled back after a moment. I opened my eyes to find him studying me intently. Self-consciously, I loosened my hold on the back of his head.

“Don’t,” he said a bit raggedly.

“Don’t what?” I asked confused.

“Don’t let go of me,” he said, dropping his lips back onto mine.

The second kiss was as different as night and day as he devoured my mouth, taking everything I had to offer. I pulled him closer, wanting more, but not sure how to express it.

After a moment, he pulled back as a magnified voice broke through my kiss-induced daze.

“We'll begin the next set as soon as Maddon can untangle himself from the hot blonde in the back,” Drake teased.

“I have to get back to work,” he said, looking at me like it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I’ll be waiting here,” I said, sagging against the wall for support since my limbs had decided to turn to Jell-O.

“That’s what I’m counting on, sweets,” he said, dropping one last quick kiss on my lips before heading back up to the stage.

The absence of his warmth left me missing something I never knew I wanted. I had always thought the loss of passion between Colton and me was my fault, like I was frigid or something, but the heat I felt for Maddon erased all those doubts.

The band's second set was better than the first, and finally, the band members gave the girls in the crowd what they wanted, stripping off their shirts during a high intensity song. I felt my jaw drop as I got a look at Maddon’s tanned glistening chest under the bright lights of the stage. Unlike the beefy bodies of the football players I was used to hanging out with, Maddon’s lean muscle and defined abs rivaled any Hollywood heartthrob.

“You’re nothing special,” a voice said beside me, breaking into my gawking session.

“What?” I asked, confused to see a girl whose name I couldn’t remember leaning against the wall next to me.

“I said, you’re nothing special. Maddon makes it a habit to hook up with girls at these jam sessions.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Yeah, I just wanted to give you the heads-up that you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.”

“What makes you so sure that’s not want I’m looking for,” I said, flashing a bright smile before sauntering closer to the stage. I could hear her sputtering her outrage behind me, but paid it no mind as I neared my destination.

Maddon watched me with concern as he cut his eyes back to the girl who had been talking to me. I smiled, trying to reassure him. I had put up with snarky attitudes half my life and this girl had no game.

The session ended a few minutes later after a solo from Maddon that made me wonder why I had never realized how hot it was to watch someone play the drums, or maybe it just had to be the right someone.

“Hey,” Maddon said, pulling his t-shirt on over his head.

“Hey yourself,” I said, stealing his line from before as I tried to control my breathing from his sudden closeness.

“What did Miranda say to you?” he asked, sounding serious.

“It’s not important,” I said as we left the building.

“It is important,” he said, lightly grabbing my wrist to stop me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want you to be scared off.”

“What makes you think she could say anything that would scare me off?” I asked.

“What did she say?” he asked miserably.

“She said I’m just a part of a long list of your conquests, and there’s nothing special about me.”

“She’s wrong.”

“About which part?” I asked, intrigued he even cared that much.

“Both,” he said earnestly. “Okay, look, I’ve had my share of girls,” he said, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “But what I feel for you isn’t even in the same hemisphere,” he added, sinking down on one of the huge boulders that boarded the garage.

“You don’t even know me,” I said, confused over his intensity.

“You keep saying that, but I do know you. I know that at one time your friends were your whole world, but now your family is. I know that you used to hide your real beauty behind teased up hair and cosmetics you didn’t need. I know that you don’t put up with shit from anyone, including friends that are as shallow as a wading pool, or asshole teachers,” he finished, shooting me a small smile as he stood up to join me.

“We don’t belong together,” I said, trying to find a reason to believe my words.

“Says who?” he asked, bringing his hands up to cup the sides of my head.

“Me, everyone,” I said, grasping at straws as he lowered his mouth to mine.

“It’s just you and me, babe,” he said, pulling back slightly. “Everyone else can deal with it or take a flying leap off a cliff.

I couldn’t believe that I was holding her in my arms and that she was responding to my kisses. I thought the night was doomed before it could really begin when I saw Miranda approach her during the session, but even that had worked out.

“So, what did you wind up telling Miranda?” I asked as we sat atop one of the picnic tables Drake’s parents had scattered across the property. We were the only two who remained. Even Drake, after being officially introduced to the “hot blonde,” had feigned being tired and headed toward his house several acres away from where we sat.

I could see her flush slightly in the dim light. “I told her 'how did she know that I wasn’t using you,'" she answered, laughing self-consciously.

I chuckled. “I bet that went over well.”

“I think she’s still choking on the air she gasped in,” she said giggling.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” I said, dragging her closer to me.

“Me too, but I have to go,” she said, pulling out her cell phone to check the time.

“I know,” I said disappointed. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

She hesitated for a moment. I held my breath waiting for her response. I knew she had a whole inner-turmoil thing going on over us seeing each other, and I was afraid the opposing side would win. “Sure,” she finally answered after a moment. I released my breath with a whoosh, making her hair stir up in my face. The smell of her shampoo enticed my senses, making me want to drag her off with me, caveman-style.

“How about a movie?” I asked, trying to distract myself from what I was really thinking. Right about now, I was thankful that I wore baggy jeans.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to run into anyone I know,” she answered.

“Oh, right, I get it,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

She turned in my arms so she could face me. “It’s not you. I just don’t feel like dealing with everyone’s crap and their opinions,” she said, reading my thoughts.

“Okay then. If you could do anything, what would it be?”

“I’d go to a park,” she said. “It’s been years since I’ve gone to one. I’d take Megan, but that was kind of her thing with my dad.”

“Done,” I said, blowing on her hair so it would tickle my chin and senses again.

“Oh, sorry, is my hair in your way,” she said, sweeping her hair together in one hand and pulling it off her neck.

I was going to stop her until I spotted the creamy skin of her slender neck. It was all I could do to hold myself back from leaning down to see if it tasted as good as it looked.

“What time should I pick you up?” I asked, trying to play it cool.

“Um, how about I meet you?” she said, fidgeting slightly in my arms.

I had to hide my frustration. I knew it was selfish, but I wanted her on my terms, not everyone else’s, which was pretty ballsy of me since a few hours ago I didn’t think I stood a chance with her.

“Which park?” I asked.

“How about Freemont?” she asked, sounding relieved that I didn’t pitch a fit.

“What time?”

“Anytime after school sounds fine with me,” she said, shooting me a smile as she stood up and dusted off her butt.

“How about four, is that cool?

“That sounds good. I’ll need to run it by my mom to make sure she doesn’t need me,” she said, twirling one of the long blonde locks that caressed her shoulder.

I took one last whiff before we headed to our cars. I hated to let her go, and only the knowledge that I would be with her again in less than twenty four hours kept me from hauling her back in my arms. I wasn't used to feeling this way, but Kassandra wasn’t just some other girl, and I wasn’t going to blow it.

With that resolve in mind, I kept the kiss I gave her short and sweet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, shutting her door for her. I watched her pull away, making sure she was well out of site before celebrating how well the night had gone. "Yes!" I yelled, knowing no one was close enough to hear me. I climbed in my car, still able to taste her lips on mine, and the image of her closed eyes, just before giving herself to me, burned in my memory.

Mom was waiting up for me when I let myself in the front door. “How was your night?” she asked, placing her book on the granite topped coffee table in front of her.

“It was fun.”

“It must have been. I can’t remember the last time you looked so happy.”

“The band was really cool,” I said, edging for the stairs before she could delve too far.

“Did you go with Lacey and Colton?”

“No, Colton had to work,” I said, trying to sidestep the question.

“Really? I can’t picture Tom letting him work when he already has so much on his plate.”

“From what I gathered, it was pretty much his dad’s idea,” I said, sinking onto the arm of the plush leather couch.

“Hmmm, wonder what’s going on there?”

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to act blasé.

“You know something?” she demanded, seeing through my ploy.

“Um, yeah, but I promised Colton I wouldn’t tell anyone,” I said, fiddling with my Pandora bracelet.

“Fair enough,” she said, not pushing further. “By the way, what’s the deal with you and Lacey?” she asked, switching gears.

I weighed my words carefully before answering so I wouldn’t upset her. “I guess I finally saw what dad was always harping on.”

She nodded her head, comprehending what I meant. “What about your other friends? Are they treating you differently on the squad?”

“I kind of quit cheerleading,” I said, not looking up.

“What?” she asked. By the look on her face, I couldn't tell if she was mad or not.

“I had to. It’s not like you were pulling your weight around here. Someone had to be here for Megan,” I said harshly.

That was below the belt, I could tell. It wasn’t my intention to hurt her. I just didn’t want to have to defend my actions.

“You’re right,” she said with glistening eyes. “Somehow in this whole mess, I’ve lost you both,” she said as a tear escaped and trailed down her cheek.

“Mom, you haven’t lost us,” I said, getting up from my perch on the arm of the couch so I could sit next to her.

“Yes, I have. Megan's still practically catatonic, and you’ve given up everything you loved so you could fill my shoes,” she said, choking on a half-sob. “I hope that man and his family suffer as much as we’ve suffered,” she said, sounding more vindictive than I had ever heard her. My heart dropped like it was filled with lead. I doubt she would consider my date with Maddon much of a hardship for him.

“Mom, I don’t know why Megan still won’t talk, but she’s not catatonic. She just doesn’t want to talk right now, and I didn’t give up everything I loved. You and Megan top that list. I just sorted out my priorities, like dad always wanted,” I said, trying not to dwell on the impact her words just had on me.

“I love you, honey," she said, dragging me in for a tight hug. "I’m sorry it’s been so rough the last few months,” she said, pulling back slightly.

"We're fine Mom," I nodded, although I was freaking out over the corner I had painted myself into.

“We’re going to make it,” she said, pulling me in for one last squeeze.

A few hours ago I would have believed her, but her outburst about Maddon and his father made me doubt that anything would work out.“Yeah, we’re going to make it,” I said, hiding my doubts as I pulled out of her embrace. “I better hit the sack since I have classes tomorrow—and detention,” I said, grimacing at the thought of enduring confinement without Maddon.

She stood up with me, folding the light teal blanket she had been using, before draping it over the back of the sofa. “How is your detention going anyway?” she asked, switching off the lamp.

“Ugh, don’t ask.”

“Consequences for our actions can be a challenge at times,” she said, giving me her classic motherly look. “Next time, you’ll weigh the consequences before you cuss-out a teacher or pull a fire alarm.”

“Well, I regret the fire alarm,” I said, taking the steps two at a time.

“Kassandra!” she said, trying to sound stern behind me.

“Mom, if you met Mr. Mathews', you’d totally get it. Besides, he was a total prick that day,” I said.

“Kass! Language,” she reprimanded.

“Sorry, a total brick,” I added sarcastically.

“Just try to refrain yourself. It would be a shame for this to go on your permanent record after all your hard work.”

I sighed, knowing she was right. I had been lucky to get off with detention and a slap on the hand. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said, heading down the hallway to her room.

***

I arrived at school the next morning, struggling with the desire of hoping I would see Maddon at least once that day, while the sensible side of me knew I would only be playing with fire if I did. I knew if everyone caught wind us, they’d blow it completely out of proportion. Separating Maddon from my home and school life was crucial. Though it was probably for the best, I couldn’t help feeling disappointed when lunch rolled around and I still hadn’t seen him. I shuffled down the hall toward Mrs. Leighton’s office, trying to avoid the students who were celebrating the impending holiday break a few hours early. It had been one of those free-for-all kinds of days since the majority of the teachers had planned nothing in their curriculum for the last day before winter break. It was a waste to even make us come today.

Mrs. Leighton was speaking with one of the aides when I entered the office.

“Kassandra, come on back to my office,” she said, handing the aide the stack of papers in her hands. “Just add these to your stack,” she told the girl as we headed down the hall.

“So, Kassandra, last detention today, right?” she asked, settling down behind her desk.

“Yeah,” I replied, wishing it was my last day of counseling too. All this examination of my personal life hadn't sat well with me.

“How has it been going?”

“Okay, I guess. Kind of boring,” I lied.

“Really?” she asked, raising her eyebrows like she knew more than she was letting on.

“Yeah,” I answered defensively.

“I see,” she said, letting it slide. “How are things going at home?”

“Better,” I answered truthfully this time.

“That’s great,” she said, sounding surprised.

“I guess my prank and my cussing-out a teacher did some good after all,” I said, testing the boundaries.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” she hem-hawed, reaching into her candy jar to extract several holiday-wrapped Hershey's Kisses. She divvied them up and handed me a small pile.

“Thanks,” I said, unwrapping one of them and popping it into my mouth.

“I am pleased things are better at home,” she said, unwrapping her own chocolate morsel. “I would have preferred a different method to get those results,” she added, smiling at me.

“I’m sorry I pulled the fire alarm,” I said, using my finger to roll the small piece of foil that had covered my chocolate into a ball. “I guess it wasn’t very mature.”

She sighed. “Cussing out Mr. Mathews' wasn’t the most mature action either,” she pointed out.

“Maybe not, but it felt good,” I said, grinning.

A smile so brief that I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me flitted across her face before it was replaced once again with her neutral look. “Maybe next time you can find a more reasonable way to express yourself,” she said, trying to sound stern.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, unwrapping another chocolate.

“What are your plans for the holidays?” she asked, changing the subject.

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to act like the question didn’t bother me.

“Has your mom considered maybe getting away for the holidays so they won’t be quite as painful?”

“I’m not sure. We haven’t talked about it.” I didn’t mention the Christmas decorations that still sat in the attic or the baked goods that used to be a normal staple item for us during this time of year. I didn’t mention the lack of hidden Christmas presents or the missing voice of my father as he changed the lyrics of Christmas songs to better suit his purposes.

“Maybe I can help,” she said, seeing through my ploy.

“No one can help. The holidays used to be my father’s favorite time of the year. He made them special. It won’t be truly Christmas for us ever again,” I said with a quiver in my voice as I left her office.

Mrs. Leighton’s words haunted me through the rest of the school day. She’d made me think of things I had been trying to avoid, and the pain from them weighed me down as I headed to detention later that afternoon.

Signing in at the door, I claimed my usual seat and glanced around. I was actually relieved to see I was the only delinquent stupid enough to get put in detention the last day before break. Either all the other students were smart enough to stay out of trouble, or they decided to skip out and suffer the consequences when the holidays were over.

I pulled out my phone and hit the Facebook app. Clicking on my missed messages, I saw several from Colton, asking if I wanted to hang out over break. I typed in a quick answer and moved on to my timeline. The majority of the posts on my timeline were from Lacey and her cronies discussing Lacey’s holiday party the next day. I tapped onto a post from Lacey that highlighted the appropriate gifts to bring the hostess of such an event. I rolled my eyes as I scrolled through the suggestions.

Perfume

Starbucks gift cards

Chocolate (Godiva only)

Jewelry

Mall gift cards

“Oh brother, what a diva,” I muttered to myself as I tapped on the fifty-plus comments that followed the post. The majority of them were inquiries regarding her favorite perfume or what the appropriate amount for the gift cards would be. Finally, at the bottom of the list was the posting I was hoping to see and I couldn’t help chuckling when I read it.

I was going to get a gift card for Bitches R Us, but I couldn’t find a listing for it. I figured you probably have the number on speed dial, the unknown smiling face posted.

I was still laughing at the comment when the post disappeared off my screen. “Well, Lacey finally decided to delete Mr. Smiles,” I said to myself, disappointed.

“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll come back,” a familiar voice said, plopping down in the seat in front of me.

My pulse sped up into hyper-drive. “You, right?” I asked, indicating the still open app on my phone.

He grinned at me. “Can’t say,” he said, holding up his palms.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, not wanting to admit how happy I was to see him.

“Figured I’d keep you company on your last day in detention hell,” he said, swinging a leg over the back of his seat so he could sit in the seat next to me.

“What makes you think I wanted company?” I teased, trying to ignore how much his close proximity affected me.

“Okay, let me rephrase that. I couldn’t wait to see you,” he said, using his finger to trace the back of my hand.

I shivered at his touch and dropped my eyes so I could watch as his finger traced invisible drawings on my sensitive flesh.

“Were all your classes as much of a joke today as mine were?” he asked, dragging my attention away from the slow seduction that was going on with my hand.

“Pretty much,” I muttered, trying to sound normal.

“I looked for you at lunch,” he said, flipping my hand over so he could show my wrist the same attention.

I looked up, alarmed.

“Don’t worry. I know we can’t eat with each other. I just wanted to see you,” he said, moving his finger up along the inside of my forearm.

“I had plans anyway,” I said.

“With Colton?” he asked, making a ploy to act like he didn’t care, but I could feel the tension rolling off of him.

I was confused at first by his tone until I realized he was jealous. It was terribly flattering, and I considered having some fun with him, but looking up into his eyes, I could tell that wouldn't have been nice, so I stuck with honesty instead.

“No, I was with Mrs. Leighton,” I admitted.

“Really, why?”

His relief was tangible.

“Part of my punishment,” I said, trying to shrug it off like it didn’t matter.

“That’s cool,” he said, linking his fingers through mine.

“Not really, she’s kind of a pain in the ass,” I mumbled.

“Why?” he asked, sitting up in his seat to study me intently.

“She just pries too much,” I said, wishing I wouldn’t have started the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t lose it in class and pull a fire alarm.”

“No, but I’m related to the man that set all of it into action,” he said, letting go of my hand so he could rake it through his hair.

“That's not your fault,” I said, trying to erase my mom’s words from the night before.

“So, is this you or what?” I asked, changing the subject as I held up my iPhone with the Facebook app still displayed.

Accepting my subject change, his face lost the stressed-I’ve-screwed-up-your-whole-life look as he shot me a grin.

“Can’t say,” he said, grinning at me more broadly.

I laughed. “Why?” I asked after I was finally able to control my laughter.

“Because of the way she treated you the first day you came back,” he said simply.

“How do you know how she acted? Were you stalking me?” I teased.

“Not stalking, watching,” he said.

“Seriously?” I asked, not sure how I felt about being under some invisible microscope.

“You interested me.”

“Interested you? There’s been nothing remotely interesting about me for the last three months,” I said.

“You don’t see yourself clearly, Kassandra. Everything about you interests me.”

I stewed on his words. I was worried his illusions of who I truly was would eventually be destroyed, just like my father’s had been. I was flawed and destined to disappoint those I cared about the most. I was tempted to warn him off now before it was too late, but I wasn’t quite ready to ruin things.

The rest of the hour passed quickly as we skirted away from the intense topics and instead joked about his countless comments on Lacey’s Facebook page.

“How do you do it?” I asked as we headed for the parking lot.

“I’m handy with the computer,” he bragged, slinging my bag over his shoulder.

“Not me, I’m a complete tard when it comes techie stuff,” I said, unlocking my car with the keyless remote.

“You just need some pointers. I can help you out with that,” he said, handing over my bag. “I’ll see you in fifteen minutes?” he asked, checking the military-style watch he wore.

“Yep, I just need to drop my junk off at home,” I said, feeling more reluctant to leave than necessary, given the fact that I would be seeing him again in a few minutes.

He seemed equally reluctant as he slowly closed my car door for me.

In less than five minutes, I was at my house and heading up to my room. I detoured outside Megan’s door, feeling guilty for leaving her a second night. “Hey, Peanut,” I said, stepping into her room.

Her eyes brightened and she dropped her book so she could give me a hug.

“What are you reading?” I asked, bending down to scoop up her book.

“Oh, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. I love this book,” I said, ruffling her hair.

“Where’s Mom?”

She pointed toward Mom’s room.

“Thanks kiddo, I’m going out tonight, but maybe we can do something special tomorrow, like bake cookies,” I said, recalling my meeting with Mrs. Leighton.

She nodded happily before resuming her book again.

Feeling not so guilty, I headed down the hall to tell Mom I was going out.

I knocked on her door lightly.

“Come in,” she said.

I pushed the door open and found her sitting on the chaise lounge in her room with her laptop open.

“What’s up?” I asked, indicating the computer.

“Christmas shopping,” she said, pasting a bright smile on her face. “I’ve decided I would go the Internet-shopping route this year.”

“Good plan,” I said, seeing through her false gaiety. Like everything else, Christmas shopping was something her and my dad had enjoyed doing together. It was the one time of the year that I didn’t give my typical attitude over babysitting Megan, since I always knew it was something I would profit from. Shame welled up inside of me as I remembered all the times I flat-out refused to babysit.

“It’ll do,” she said, closing the laptop. “So, what are you up to?”

“I’m going out for a few hours if that’s okay?”

“That’s fine. Anyone I know?”

I shook my head.

“Do I need to be concerned?” she asked, walking down new territory. I had hung out with the same group of kids for years, so she never had to give it a second thought before.

“No, it’s cool. It's just some kids from school,” I fibbed, giving the false impression I was hanging out with more than one individual.

She looked at me critically for a moment before answering. “Okay, but keep you cell with you at all times.”

“Deal,” I said, heading for the door.

“And home by eleven,” she added before I could make a clean getaway.

“What? Eleven. It used to be midnight,” I complained.

“That’s when I knew exactly who you were hanging out with. When this mystery person wants to come by and meet your mom, then you’ll get that hour back,” she said, making it clear I hadn’t fooled her.

“Whatever.” There's an hour I was never getting back. I went to close the door behind me, but headed back in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Love you Mom,” I said grudgingly.

“I love you too, Kass. Stay safe.”

“I will Mom.”

I hurried to my room with less than five minutes left until I was supposed to meet Maddon.

“Crap, I’m gonna be late,” I muttered as I ripped off the clothes I had worn to school that day. I pulled on my favorite white-with-black-flowers cotton skirt, a ribbed white tank and my three-quarter sleeve white sweater before sitting at my vanity. Looking at myself in the mirror, there was only one word to describe my hair—disaster. The typical Florida humidity had played havoc with my nice straight hair from earlier. I didn't have time to run the heat iron back over it, so I just gathered it up in my hand and pulled it up into a high ponytail. Lastly, I applied a little pink-tinted lip gloss and eyeliner as a final touch.

"Crap, shoes," I mumbled, turning away from the mirror to search through my endless supply of shoes in the closet. I wanted to wear my favorite white leather Hollister sandals. Tossing a few pairs to the side, I finally found them buried under my UGGs that I was convinced I couldn’t live without last year. My mom laughingly told me they were inappropriate for Florida weather, but I had insisted. I wore them one time to school and my feet felt like they were encased in a sauna the entire day. At the time, I loathed admitting it, but as I chucked them to the side, I couldn’t help but giggle that she was so right.

Sliding into my sandals, I smoothed down my skirt that had ridden up while I was scrounging around on my closet floor and spotted Megan standing by my doorway.

“What do you think, Peanut? Do I look okay?”

She nodded her head, looking forlorn.

“Hey, do you want to hang out in here while I’m gone? When I get home, it’ll be like a sleepover on an island?” I said, indicating my high king-size bed. “How does that sound?”

She gave her approval by scampering up on my bed with her book in hand. I watched as she burrowed herself in among my countless pillows until she was all but invisible.

“All right, I’ll be home later. Don’t hog my whole bed,” I teased on my way out the door. I headed for the stairs before making a quick detour back to Mom’s room.

“Hey, Peanut is up on my bed,” I told her so she wouldn’t worry.

“Okay, sweetheart, have fun.”

“Thanks Mom,” I said, hurrying out her door and down the steps.

I pulled into the parking lot of Freemont Park more than fifteen minutes late. I climbed from my car feeling bad for making Maddon wait for me. I found him at one of the pavilions closest to the playground area that would have been bursting with a birthday party if it were a Saturday or Sunday.

He watched my approach, drumming on his pant legs with his worn drumsticks.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said as he watched me silently.

He didn’t answer, but continued to study me with a look I couldn’t quite place.

“What?” I asked, self-consciously looking down to make sure my skirt was hanging straight and I wasn't giving him a peep show.

He stood up still not speaking. My breath hitched in my throat as he stopped a hair's width from me, placing his hands on my hips to pull me flush against him. “You’re driving me insane,” he said before dropping his warm lips onto mine. He nipped at my bottom lip gently until I opened my mouth to his. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, studying me with eyes that were almost black with desire.

“Well, that’s a heck of a greeting,” I said in a shaky voice as my knees trembled.

“Just figured you need a small taste of what you did to me when I saw you step out of your car.”

“So you approve?” I flirted, stepping back farther so he could see my whole outfit.

“If we were alone, you’d see just how much I approve,” he said.

I gasped slightly, getting his meaning loud and clear. I was used to sexual innuendos while hanging out with my old group of friends, but things between Colton and me had never reached that level for obvious reasons now. I had plenty of opportunities over the years to hook up, but the relationship I had with Colton kept most advances at bay. I had made my dad a promise when I first started dating that I would think, and then think again, before I gave myself to someone. At the time, the conversation had embarrassed me to no end, but the promise had been easy to keep as any make-out sessions with Colton became few and far between, until they eventually fizzled entirely. And up until a week ago, the promise I had made seemed safer than any other promise I had ever made.

“Too much?” he asked, taking a cautious step back.

“Too much?” I repeated, still trying to process how fast things were escalating between us. My breath began to come out in fast gasps as I started to hyperventilate.

“Kass, are you okay?” he asked, concern clouding his voice as he led me to the picnic table. He pushed on my shoulder gently until I was sitting down.

I tried to nod, but was having a hard time catching my breath. My cheeks became hot, and no doubt, bright red. Seriously? This was how I handled it when someone admitted they were attracted to me?

After a few moments, I was finally able to gather myself.

“Are you okay, Kass?” He asked again.

I nodded, more embarrassed than anything.

“Jeez, Kass, I’m so sorry. I’m used to hanging out with a different crew that's used to any crazy stuff I say.”

“It’s not that. Believe me, I’m not prudish. It just took me by surprise. God, you must think I'm such a freak. It's just, everything's happening so quickly, I felt I was on like a runaway train or something,” I finally admitted. “Up until a week ago, I still thought I hated you, and now I’m making out with you. And not wanting to stop, by the way.”

“You didn’t want to stop?” he asked, grasping onto the statement that appealed to him the most.

“Seriously? That’s all you got out of that. Yeah, I want to jump your bones. There, does that make you happy?” I asked as a wolfish grin spread across his face. “Wanting to and doing it are two separate things,” I added, wiping the grin from his face.

“What?” he asked.

“I can’t sleep with you. So, if that’s what this is all about, you’re wasting your time,” I said, trying to keep the hurt from my voice. “I promised my dad a long time ago I would wait.”

“Kass, believe me. I'd love nothing more than to move this to the next level, but it’s not why I’m with you.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Positive. Now stop trying to seduce me so I can go down the slide and hit the swings,” he teased, pulling me to my feet and dragging me off toward the playground.

“Another Dew?” Drake asked, opening up the fridge his parents kept on the far side of the garage.

“Sure,” I said from the stool I was perched on.

Drake chucked the Mountain Dew across the large space. Reaching up with one hand, I snagged it out of the air and popped the tab.

“Dude, I seriously wish this was a Bud,” Drake said, popping the tab on his own soda.

“Ha, your parents would have your ass in a sling if they caught you drinking a brew in here.”

“No shit,” he said, sitting on the stool next to me on the stage. “So, what’s up with you and that blonde babe that was here on Thursday?”

“You know, just hanging.”

“You hit'n it?” he asked in typical Drake fashion. His conquests were legendary among the other band members.

“Nah, it’s not like that, bro,” I said, trying not to let his words bother me.

“Seriously?” he asked raising an eyebrow at me. “You gone soft or what?” he asked with a double meaning.

“Screw you, douche bag,” I said, throwing my empty can at him.

“Hey, that’s cool, dude. Just leaves more for me,” he teased.

“Have at it, bro,” I said, not rising to the bait.

“What the hell? You must like Kassandra a lot,” he said.

“You knew who it was all along?” I asked, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned it earlier.

“Man, who doesn't know who she is? I was hoping it was just a passing fling or something.”

“Why would you say that?” I asked pissed.

“Dude, don’t get all pissy like a bitch. I'm just saying, maybe you’re playing with fire, that's all. She’s different than us, you know? Not to mention, the history between you two. Truthfully, I’m floored she talked her mom into letting you take her out,” he said.

He wasn't telling me anything I hadn't already thought about. Yeah, Kassandra and I came from completely different backgrounds, but what was this, the fifties? So, her family had money and mine drank away every cent they had ever earned, who cares?

“Her mom doesn’t know,” I finally admitted.

“No shit? Now I really wish this was a brew because, bro, you’re in it thick. Take my advice man, cut your losses and get out now,” he added, draining the last of his drink.

“I can’t, man,” I said, raking my hands through my hair.

“Why not? You already said you’re not tapping it, so you’re not tied down.”

“Because I think I’m in love with her.”

“Shut the F up, are you serious? Dude, I don't know,” he said, shaking his head.

“What can I say? She’s special.” I finally admitted.

“She better be, because if this ever gets out, shit is going to hit the fan big time, bro.”

I woke up the first day of winter break with a stomach bug. Considering the fact that Megan woke up with it too made me pretty convinced it was courtesy of Miss Mimi’s Academy.

Mom spent the day catering to Megan and me as we took turns visiting the bathroom. I couldn’t remember a time where I had thrown up so many times in one day. Poor Megan was just as miserable as I was, but was obviously less vocal about it. Me? I had no qualms over complaining about my stomach cramps, chills and sweaty pajamas.

“I hate those germy little kids,” I muttered to my mom as she helped Megan into her third pair of pajamas.

“I know, sweetie. You may have mentioned that more than a few times today,” she said dryly as Megan and I huddled on the plush settee in my bedroom while Mom changed my bed sheets.

Once my bed was made, Megan and I crawled back under my comforter and instantly fell asleep, exhausted from our countless trips to the bathroom. It was several hours later that the chirping of a new text coming through on my iPhone woke me up. I glanced over at my phone on my bedside table, momentarily confused.

I slid my finger across the screen and smiled when I read the text.

Too soon to get together again?

Who is this? I typed in teasingly.

Some call me kiss-a-licious. He countered back.

I snorted. Hmmm, kiss-a-licious? Nope, it’s not ringing any bells. I think I’d remember hearing that name, J I teased.

I can come over and refresh your memory.

Can’t L

I know but can we meet up?

No, I meant I can’t meet up today. I’m sick.

Sick?

Stomach bug.

No fun.

Tell me about it L I blame Megan’s school. She’s sick too.

Do you need anything? Sprite, crackers, soup?

Nah, my mom is taking care of us.

Bummer.

Bummer? I texted confused.

Yeah, I like the whole taking care of the damsel in distress angle.

Believe me, you’d be majorly grossed out if you saw me. I texted back, tugging on a lank lock of hair that was in need of a washing.

Not possible.

Hahahaha I’m serious, unless you were wearing a blindfold you’d be seriously sickened.

You’re crazy. Don’t tempt me to come over there and show you.

LOL J It's sweet of you to say though.

I guess I’ll let you go so you can rest.

Booooo L

Rest!! I’ll text you later.

Promise?

Scouts honor.

Were you even a boy scout?

That will be a question that will have to be answered later. Rest!! He demanded.

Wow, fine bossy mossy. I texted back.

Just get better.

I smiled and set my phone to the side and fell back to sleep instantly.

Megan woke me up Sunday morning when she crawled out of bed.

“You okay, Peanut?” I asked.

She nodded her head, looking much better. Sitting up slowly, I was pleased that the room was no longer spinning like it had done the previous day. I took stock of the aches and pains that had plagued me for the last thirty-six hours, but most of them had dissipated. The only reminder that remained was my dryer-than-the-desert throat.

“I need something to drink. How about you?” I asked, crawling out of bed.

She nodded her head vigorously.

“What would you like?” I asked as we descended the stairs.

She shrugged her shoulders as if to say she didn’t care.

“Um, pickle juice?” I teased, laughing when she wrinkled up her nose.

“Oh, so you do care. How about lemon juice?” She smiled broadly, obviously enjoying the game.

“Or how about salad dressing?” I asked as she shook her head.

We paused outside the kitchen door as tantalizing smells from within the room reached our noses. We looked at each other, equally apprehensive. Mom was baking cookies.

We stepped into the spacious kitchen, only to be halted by a sight I wouldn’t have expected in a million years.

“Mom?” I said tentatively. It looked like Cookie Monster heaven. Seemingly endless rows of cookies lined every available surface of counter space in the kitchen.

“Yes?” she asked, turning to look at us with flour streaked across her face and down the front of her I’d rather be shopping apron we had gotten her last Mother’s Day.

“What are you doing?” I asked, walking slowly by all the cookies.

“I decided it was time to make it feel like Christmas around here. I was just going to make a batch of one of your father’s favorites, but as I was flipping through all the recipes, I kept finding others he loved. And well, that’s how all of this happened,” she said, sweeping her hands out to indicate all the different types of cookies.

Megan joined me as I paused in front of each different flavor. Every cookie evoked different memories for me. During this time of year, our house always smelled like fresh baked cookies because Dad would bake practically every day and you would always find him munching on them.

“A cookie a day, keeps the doctor away. Besides, my metabolism is like a furnace,” he would boast when my mom would tease him about over doing it.

A stray tear escaped down my cheek. I swiped at it with my knuckles, not wanting to upset Mom or Megan.

That’s when I glanced down, realizing Megan had left my side and was standing in front of the snickerdoodles, Dad’s all-time favorite. My heart clenched as I watched silent tears creep down her cheeks. Megan and Dad had been two peas in a pod, doing everything together, and baking cookies was just another item that topped the list. I’d wasted all my time climbing the social ladder at school to care at the time.

“I’m sorry, Peanut,” Mom said, rushing to Megan’s side and pulling her in for a tight hug. “I’ll get rid of them. I should have realized how painful it would be. It was selfish of me to let my desire to remember him overshadow your feelings,” she said, releasing Megan so she could reach for the trashcan.

I wanted to stop her. Seeing the cookies was painful, but in a good way. It almost felt like he was here with us.

Megan grabbed Mom’s arm as she was scooting a row toward the open trashcan. She shook her head to the side.

“You don’t want me to throw them away?” Mom asked confused.

Megan shook her head again.

Mom looked at me questioningly.

“Neither do I,” I finally choked out. “It almost feels like Dad is here. He would have been in hog heaven with so many cookies laid out.”

Megan nodded her head, giving her approval to my statement.

“So we keep them all?” Mom asked, finally taking it all in.

“Yep, I’ll get out the gallon-sized Ziploc bags,” I said, feeling weirdly lighthearted.

“I guess I kind of went overboard,” Mom said, laughing slightly.

“In a good way,” I said, giving her a sideways hug as Megan continued to walk by each variety. I smiled when I saw her take a small nibble out of several different ones.

“Juice, Peanut?” I asked, opening up the refrigerator.

She grinned around a bite of a cookie and nodded her head. I wished she would come out of her protective shell and talk to us. I was dying to know what she was thinking.

I could tell from Mom’s expression she felt the same way.

“What’s on the agenda today after we bag up a lifetime of cookies here?” I teased.

“What would you like to do?” she asked, wrapping the chocolate chip cookies with wax paper.

“Truthfully?” I asked.

“Yes, truthfully,” she said, shooting me her sarcastic “mom” look.

“I’d like to go to Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas,” I said quietly, hoping I wasn’t opening a can of worms.

“Really?” she asked incredulously.

“Would that be okay?” I said, directing the question at Megan who answered by throwing her arms around my waist. Going to Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas at the Magic Kingdom was a tradition Dad had started the year Megan was born. I went that first year, but claimed it was for babies after that and never went again. I had been thinking a lot about all the traditions I had missed out on after my conversation on Friday with Mrs. Leighton. I was afraid to reinstate any of them, but Mom baking the cookies seemed like a sign that maybe we could handle it.

“That would be good,” Mom said, her eyes filled with appreciation.

“Okay, good,” I said. “What time does it start again?”

“I’ll have to check on the computer. Why? Do you have plans today?”

“Yeah, I was going to run some errands, maybe do a little Christmas shopping.”

“Sounds good. I think the Mickey thing starts at seven. If you’re home by five or so, we should have plenty of time, even if we hit traffic.”

“Okay, I’m going to go get ready. You got this?” I laughed, indicating the stacks of cookies still waiting to be bagged up.

“We got it, right, Peanut?” Mom asked Megan. “Besides, we’re going to frost all those over there,” she added, pointing to the Christmas tree shaped cookies on the far counter.

“Maybe when we’re done, we’ll box half of them up and take them to the children’s home.”

“Children’s home?” I asked.

“It’s a place over in Deltona called the Florida United Methodist Children’s Home. I heard about it from Brenda. They help place children with caregivers. I was thinking about volunteering a couple of days a week to get out of the house.”

“I’ve never even heard of it. I thought they did away with orphanages years ago,” I said, grabbing a peanut butter cookie off the counter.

“I think they did in the traditional sense, but I guess the resource need hasn’t changed over the years. Maybe you could come with me sometime,” she said teasingly, obviously thinking about my previous loathing of community service over the years.

“Sure,” I said, leaving her shocked face behind on my way out the door. Lacey and I had bitterly complained about doing volunteer hours when we first started our freshman year, worried it would cut into our hanging out time. Ms. Hanson had found a loophole in the system by finding charity games where the whole squad could work in the concession stand. We accumulated the necessary volunteer hours for our whole high school career by midyear and never looked back.

Volunteering now seemed like a small penance to pay for my previous behavior. Maybe if my dad were watching from heaven, he would finally be proud of me.

I was still in the I should get out of bed, but just a few more minutes won’t kill anyone stage at half past ten the next morning when my phone lit up on the pillow next to me, alerting me to a new text.

Feel like doing some shopping, girl-style?

Does that mean you’re feeling better?

Yep. You game?

What does girl-style shopping mean exactly?

I drag you from one shop to the next looking at everything as I search for the perfect gift only to realize it was in the first store after all.

Errr sounds fun. I texted back teasingly.

I’ll feed you. She enticed, oblivious to the fact that I was all in, the moment she asked if I wanted to go.

Mall food?

Is that wrong?

Heck no. I’m a mall food kind of guy.

Does that mean you’re in?

I guess since you threw food in.

Great text me your address and I’ll swing by and get you in forty minutes J

211 West Lee St. Apt 12. Just text when you get here and I’ll meet you downstairs, I texted, not quite ready to introduce her to my aunt quite yet.

K see you soon J

Deal.

Tossing my phone to the side, I hopped out of bed, more energized than I had been five minutes ago.

I was ready to go with twenty minutes to spare.

“Going out?” My aunt asked, looking at the crossword puzzle on her lap.

“Yeah, I’m hitting the mall.”

“You’re going to the mall three days before Christmas?” she asked, knowing my aversion to the establishment even at the best of times.

“Yeah, I figure I better get you something for Christmas,” I teased, trying to change the subject.

“You don’t have to do that, sweetie,” she said, looking touched.

I instantly felt remorseful that I had almost forgotten to get her something. “Seriously, like I wasn’t going to get you anything,” I said, arching my eyebrow at her.

“Well, that’s sweet of you. Do you need cash?”

“Really? You’re going to offer me money for your gift?”

She laughed. “Just thought I would ask. You’re so self-sufficient, I feel like I’m doing a terrible job.”

“Are you kidding? You’re the best parental figure I’ve ever had.”

She sighed. “I should have stepped in years ago. I’m sorry I let you down.”

“It’s all good. Trust me. The old man would’ve pitched a fit if you had.”

“I promise I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” I said, shooting her a grin. “I’ll catch you later.”

I barreled down the stairs to the first floor and sat on the low brick wall that separated the parking spaces from the small plots of grass in front of the first floor apartments. I dug my drumsticks out of my back pocket and used my knee as a mock drum, tapping out the new song Drake and I had hashed out the night before. It was a slower song than normal for us, but the lyrics Drake had put together were pure genius. The guy definitely had some mad lyrical skills.

“Need a ride?” Kassandra asked, pulling up alongside me.

“Why don’t you park and we’ll take my car,” I suggested, pointing to the empty spot next to mine.

“I can drive,” she said.

“That’s okay, I got it,” I said, helping her out of her car.

“Which mall?” I asked, starting up my Toyota.

“I was thinking Altamonte if that’s okay.”

“That’s cool,” I said, merging onto I4 East bound. “So, you’re feeling better?” I asked, maneuvering around a slow sedan that was under the impression the speed limit was only forty-five on the highway.

“Ugh, yes, damn those germy kids,” she said, resting her foot up on the dashboard.

The sexy red nail polish slicked on each of her toes grabbed my attention immediately.

She looked over, busting me. “Nice polish,” I said, grinning at her.

She laughed. “Thanks. That’s one great thing about living in Florida, wearing sandals all year long, so I can paint my toes for any occasion.”

“Hell yeah. I’d take this over a white Christmas any day.”

“You act like you know that from firsthand experience.”

“Oh, trust me, I do. I was brought up in the boonies of Wyoming and spent my first eleven years freezing my ass off seventy percent of the year.”

“You were lucky,” she said, sounding envious. “I wouldn’t mind living someplace where it snows. I’ve only ever been around snow for like a week at a time when we would take our annual ski trip after Christmas.”

Here was one of those differences between Kassandra and me that Drake was talking about. We never took any family vacations anywhere. Hell, we were lucky if my dad didn’t blow his check before the rent was due. Even when we had lived in Wyoming, we never had the money to go skiing. The only winter activity I had been able to persuade the old man to let me play was hockey, and that was only because all my gear had been donated.

“I haven’t done much skiing,” I said, hoping that eventually she wouldn’t come to her senses and realize the different worlds we came from.

“You’re not missing much. My favorite part was hanging out in the ski lodge by the fireplace fli…” her words trailed off and her cheeks reddened.

“Flirting with guys,” I finished for her, raising my eyebrows. “Give me an example,” I teased.

“No way,” she said, smiling now.

“Come on, lay your ski bunny charm on me,” I said. “Act like you don’t know me.”

“Ugh, no, it’s waaaay too embarrassing. I was shameless.”

“Come on, sweets, ask me to get a hot chocolate with you,” I said, wagging my eyebrows at her suggestively.

“Very funny, you’re a crack up,” she said, giving my arm a light swat.

“Oh, that looks so hot. Would you like me to blow it for you?” I asked, trying for my best sensually girlish voice.

She threw her head back and laughed. “That’s gross, you perv.” Her laughter was contagious and by the time we reached the mall, my side hurt from laughing with her.

I parked in front of Barnes and Noble and grabbed on to her hand as we headed toward the entrance. She looked happier right now than I could ever remember seeing her. I couldn’t resist pulling her into my arms and planting a kiss right on those sweet lips. She melted in my arms before abruptly pulling back.

“Wait, what if I’m still germy?” she asked, looking concerned.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I said, dipping my head down for one last kiss.

When we parted, she was intently studying me. “What?” I asked.

“You’re going to have to start showing some serious character flaws, because I’m beginning to think you’re too perfect,” she chided.

“Oh, sweet naïve Kass, you have no idea how far from the truth you are,” I said, tucking her into the crook of my arm and guiding her threw the doors. “You should flee now before I completely corrupt you. I said more seriously.

I found it ironic that he thought he would corrupt me. If anyone was doing the corrupting, it was me. I was just afraid that someday he would see the ugliness that lurked inside me. Pushing those fears to the side, I dragged him from one store to next searching for the perfect gifts for Megan, Mom and him.

“Break, please, I need a break,” Maddon cried after we’d been at the mall several hours. He dropped to his knees, making an overly exaggerated effort to sound desperate. “I demand food now, or I may have to start gnawing on your arm like a crazed zombie,” he added, making a grab for my arm.

“What a baby. We’ve only been here for what, three hours?” I said, tucking my arm behind me for safekeeping. I darted to the side, giggling as I tried to avoid his advance.

“You cannot run from a crazed monster,” he said, snatching me up in his arms. “On second thought, who needs bony arms when necks are so much more appetizing?” he said, dipping his head down to my neck.

My giggles died away as his warm breath brushed across the skin on my neck.

“Get a room,” a group of pre-teens catcalled, walking around us.

“Hit puberty,” Maddon retorted, pulling back. “Food,” he added, dragging me away.

“Pick your poison,” I said, standing on the outskirts of the packed food court. “I think I want a gyro from Greek Isle,” I said, pointing to one of my favorite fast food places. “How about you?”

“Wow, this place is a madhouse,” he stated. “We’re going to need a shoe-horn to get over there, but that sounds good. I think I’ll have the same, with a slice of pizza from Stavros, and a chicken burrito from Taco ‘Hell.'”

“So, you realize a gyro is quite filling?” I asked.

“Oh, I know. I get them all the time,” he said, dragging me toward Stavros for his slice of pizza.

“One slice of pepperoni,” he told the guy behind the counter. “You?” he asked, turning to me.

“I’m good,” I said, holding back a laugh. I reached into my bag to pull out my wallet.

“Seriously?” Maddon asked, looking insulted.

“Well, I did say it was my treat,” I pointed out.

“Not in my lifetime,” he said, pulling a scuffed wallet out of his back pocket.

“Hey, slow your role babe, I’m an equal rights kind of chick,” I teased, trying to stop his hand from pushing the money back into my wallet.

“That’s fine. I’m big on equal rights too, but not when I’m on a date.”

“How about going dutch then? That’s okay right?”

“Not in my book it isn’t,” he pretended to growl.

It felt a little uncomfortable having him pay. I was used to paying my own way since that’s the way my friends and I had been doing it for years. Even when Colton and I were dating, we still paid our own ways. It was obvious here though, by Maddon’s insistence, that this was an argument I wasn’t going to win.

After our world tour around the court, Maddon and I sat with our loaded up trays on the far side off the indoor courtyard, as far away from the screaming kids by the McDonald’s as we could get.

“So, you really think you can eat all that food,” I said, eyeing the gyro, slice of pizza, burrito, and the impulse order of fries he had bought from the burger place.

“I know I can, I’m legit,” he bragged. “Why you don’t believe me?”

“No, I think your eyes are way bigger than your stomach.”

“You interested in betting on it?”

“What’s the wager?” I asked. “Barf bags when you spew?” I teased.

He threw his head back and laughed. “No, I was thinking, if you lose, I get to pick our next date, tomorrow,” he said, emphasizing "tomorrow." “Which, by the way, will most definitely not include any of the crowds here,” he added.

“Okay, so what if I win?” I asked.

“You get to pick the location of our next date.”

“Deal, but just to warn you, I see pedicures in our near future. I think purple will look stunning on your toes,” I joked.

“Ouch, that’s seriously harsh,” he said. “Too bad I won’t be losing. I hope you’re not scared of heights,” he added, taking a big bite of the gyro.

“Uhh- uhh,” I stuttered. I was deathly afraid of heights, which was a challenge I had to overcome while I was a cheerleader.

“Kidding,” he said after a moment, when he noticed I wasn’t eating. “I have something else planned.”

Relieved, I picked up my gyro, minus the vegetables, and took an appreciative bite, thankful that my appetite had returned. After eating about three quarters of my meal, I was stuffed to the gills. I sat there in amazement, watching the Maddon show and feeling like I’d been hustled. He plowed through his slice of pizza, burrito, fries, gyro, and the pasta salad that came with it. He didn’t rush like a starving person, but ate methodically. Each bite seemed synchronized. Just when I thought he was done, he slid my plate over to his side of the table.

“Now you’re just showing off,” I said, raising the white flag.

“Told ya,” he said, finishing off my leftovers with a burst of laughter.

“Where does it all go?” I asked. “I’m used to the football players eating a ton, but a lot of them carry quite a bit of extra weight around they like to call ‘muscle,’” I added, admiring his flat stomach.

“Good metabolism, I guess. Plus, playing the drums can be quite a workout.”

“Alright then. So, where are we going tomorrow?” I asked as we gathered our trash and walked toward the receptacles.

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” he said, affectionately tugging on my ponytail.

“Ugh, I hate secrets,” I wailed.

“Too bad so sad,” he teased, linking his fingers with mine. “Where to now?” he asked.

“I need to go back to Bath and Body Works because I’ve decided I am going to get my mom that gift basket after all.”

“Is that the smelly girly shop?” he asked.

“Yep,” I said, laughing at his description.

“I think I’ll bow out of visiting that female-ramped store. One visit is enough to last me a lifetime. I have a few things I needed to get anyways,” he added, winking at me.

“Okay, do you want me to text you when I’m done in my ‘girly’ store?” I asked, nudging him with my hip.

“That works,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on my lips before sauntering off.

I watched his retreating backside for a moment, touching my lips where his had just vacated. It amazed me how natural it felt to kiss him, and to even expect it. In one week, my feelings for him had done a complete one-eighty. Shaking myself out of my trance, I pivoted around and headed toward Bath and Body Works to get my mom’s gift set. I detoured into the music store, two doors down, to pick up Maddon’s present, now that he wasn’t with me. I picked what I wanted and paid the clerk with multiple piercings and black nail polish. “Thanks,” I said as she looked at me disdainfully, handing me the bag.

Bath and Body Works was packed with harassed shoppers, so maneuvering around was a pain. I grabbed the set I wanted and headed for the register. I pulled out my phone and texted Maddon, telling him I was done while I was waiting in line.

“Kassandra?” A voice said from behind me.

“Hi, Mrs. Harris,” I said, holding back a groan, greeting Lacey’s mom.

“It’s been a long time sweetie,” she said, enveloping me in a perfume-filled hug. “How’s your mom? That poor dear, we all know how dependent she was on your father, bit of an unhealthy relationship, I always thought. Is she able to function? I swear I never saw her out without your father tied to her side. You know what? I know a great spa she can go to if she needs some 'her' time,” she said with clueless concern.

She did not just say that, I thought as my blood began to boil. “Actually, she’s doing much better. It’s been tough since they were so in love, and we all know how rare that is in most couples lives, don’t we?” I said, staring deadpan into her face.

She looked taken aback by my words. “Oh, I see,” she said, raising her perfectly waxed eyebrows at me. “I was just trying to be friendly and all.”

“Oh, me too, but I don’t need some four time divorcée telling me my parents, who loved each other more than life itself, had an unhealthy relationship. Maybe when you stay in a relationship longer than one of your cruises, you will understand.”

“How dare you speak to me like that,” she hissed.

“How dare you speak about my parents like that,” I snipped back, turning to leave.

She wrapped her hands around my arm, halting me in mid-step. “I’ll be telling your mother about this,” she snarled.

“Knock yourself out,” I said, trying to jerk my arm from her grasp.

“Now I see why my Lacey dropped you. You are poison,” she said, digging her fingers into my flesh.

“Let go of me,” I said, pulling on my arm.

“I’d do what she says,” Maddon said from behind me. Embarrassment flowed through me as I wondered how much he had heard. I yearned for the floor to open up and suck me in.

“And who would you be?” she asked, reluctantly letting go of me.

“Don’t worry about it, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from manhandling my girlfriend in the future,” Maddon said in a deadly serious voice.

“You look familiar. Do I know you?” She asked, looking at him like he was a specimen under a microscope.

“That’s Maddon. You know, Rick Johnson’s son. The guy that killed Kassandra’s dad,” Lacey said snidely, coming up to stand behind her mom.

My knees turned to putty as I looked at her smirking face.

“Well, well, isn’t that interesting,” Lacey’s mom said with shining eyes at the gift-wrapped-gossip bundle we had just dropped in her lap. “I’m surprised your mother has been so forgiving.”

“She was fine with it,” I lied brazenly. “She’s adult enough to know that Maddon had no control over his father’s actions,” I retorted, turning on heel.

Once we were out of sight, I made a bee-line for the exit, zigzagging and weaving through endless waves of shoppers. This wasn’t the best time to be at the mall when you wanted to get out in a hurry. By the time Maddon and I made it to Barnes and Noble, my frustration had gotten the best of me.

“Excuse me!” An unsuspecting woman bellowed after I pushed my way past without looking back. My breathing was labored from the fast pace, and at this point, I wasn’t even sure if Maddon was still with me, or what he must be thinking. I was horrified at the thought of what Lacey and her mom would do with the tasty gossip-treat we had practically spoon-fed them. None of this would have happened if I would have kept my silent promise to my dad and walked away in the very beginning with a smile. I had risen to the bait, and now we would all pay the price.

“Man, talk about the apple not falling far from the tree,” Maddon said, snagging onto my hand to slow me down once we got outside. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, slowing me down to a stop.

“No, it won’t. Lacey’s been waiting for months for an opportunity like this! I guarantee she’s already got it plastered all over Facebook!”

“That’s insane, she was your friend.”

“Like that matters, you’ve seen what a bitch she is!” I stated, wondering if he was really that clueless on how malicious girls could be.

“With my friends it matters. We’d take a bullet for each other.”

“Not in my world,” I said, still fuming. “We wouldn’t take a slap on the wrist for each other, let alone a bullet.”

“You would,” he said quietly. “You’re different than them.”

“You think so? Did you miss the way I tore into Lacey’s mom in there? I can be a mega-bitch, too, believe me.”

“Kassandra, you’re too hard on yourself.”

“You just see me with rose-colored glasses,” I said, sick of the pretenses.

He joined me on my side of the car and rested his hand over mine. “Kassandra, we both have skeletons. Who doesn’t? So what if you weren’t perfect before? Neither was I. I let my father use me as a punching bag without ever standing up to him. I let him drink and drive, and your family paid the consequences. Do you think it’s easy to live with that?”

“That’s different. It’s harder to stand up to a parent. I knew my friends and I acted like assholes, but I still hung out with them.”

“Kass, I could have tried standing up to my father. Maybe I could have fought him off or maybe not. I just never wanted to sink to his level. I promised myself I would never turn into him. We all make our decisions. The important thing is that you’ve changed,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Forever changed is my pact, you know, like your band name,” I whispered, resting my forehead on his chest. “I just slipped in there. I don’t want to slip again.”

“Don’t worry, babe. You got this. Besides, you’re only human. If it makes you feel any better, I wanted to break my no-violence vow in there,” he chuckled, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.

Kassandra was quiet on the drive back to my complex. I knew she was worried about Lacey’s mom running her big mouth. I wished we could spend more time together, but I knew she had plans with her family that evening.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” I asked doubtfully, considering the next day was the day before Christmas Eve.

“I think so,” she said, still obviously worried her mom would know by then. “I’ll text you. What should I wear anyway?”

“Warm clothes. We’ll be outside all morning,” I said, parking next to her SUV.

“Where are we going again?” she pried.

“Me to know, and you to find out,” I teased, grabbing her bags from the trunk of the car and stowing them in her Explorer.

“No fun,” she pouted.

“Come on, surprises are good,” I laughed, dropping a kiss on her lips. “Text me, okay?” She nodded, though her eyes were clouded over with worry.

“Don’t worry. Maybe that hag won’t say anything. You did a pretty convincing job, making it seem like your mom already knows.”

“I hope so,” she said, closing her door.

“It’ll be fine,” I mouthed as she pulled away.

I grabbed my own crap from the car and headed upstairs. I was pissed that our day had been ruined. For our sake, I hope I was right, that Lacey’s mom wouldn’t say anything.

I was determined not to let Lacey or her mom ruin the holidays which were going to be stressful enough anyway. Mom and Megan were ready and waiting by the time I got home. I thought Megan was going to barrel over me the way she ran at me like she was launched from a sling-shot. She was obviously excited.

“You look cute, Peanut,” I said, taking in her Christmas Minnie Mouse shirt and matching hair bow. "Let me stow these in my room and then I’ll be ready to go,” I said, holding up my bags.

“We have time,” Mom said. “Did you have fun today?”

I gave an apprehensive laugh. “Well, as much fun as you can have at the mall the week of Christmas,” I said, heading for the stairs.

“You think that’s bad, wait until we get to Disney,” she teased.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I called down the stairs.

I stowed the bags in the back of my closest and snagged my favorite hoodie from its hanger and headed back down the stairs.

“Peanut’s shirt is really cute. Looks like someone was busy today, huh?” I teased my mom as we headed out. She had mad sewing skills and probably whipped up the one-of-a-kind shirt and bow in less than a few hours.

She laughed. “What’s the Magic Kingdom without a Mickey or Minnie shirt?” she said, pulling out of the driveway.

“You did a good job,” I said, fiddling with the radio until I found a song I liked.

“I could have made you one,” she teased.

“Umm no, I’m good, but thanks. So what time are Grandma and Donna going to be here tomorrow?”

“Around dinnertime,” she said grimacing.

“Why are they coming again?” I asked confused. We normally spent New Year’s with them on our way home from skiing in North Carolina every year.

“To make my life hell,” she muttered for my ears only. “They said they didn’t want us to be alone.”

“Well, that ought to be a zip-a-dee-do-da time,” I joked, turning up the radio.

“Oh clever,” she said sarcastically.

The parking lot for the Magic Kingdom was packed. We cruised along with the long line of cars that snaked through the lot, following the waving directions of the multiple attendants that guided everyone to the available parking spots.

“You’re in charge of remembering where we parked, Peanut,” I teased. “Simba-65, remember that or we’ll have to walk home later.” Mom and I both grabbed a hand and we swung Megan up onto the tram and we slid across the row of seats. The cool wind whipped our hair into our faces as the tram roared toward the ticketing center. I zipped up my hoodie, wishing I had thought to bring gloves. I reached over to zip up Megan also, but Mom had beaten me to it. We looked at each other and smiled. It was so nice to have her being the mom again.

The night was as fun as I hoped it would be, so much fun in fact, that I didn’t think about Lacey or her mom once the entire time. We avoided the bigger rides since Mom didn’t like the roller coaster-type rides, and Megan was too short anyway. Instead, we rode the People Mover a couple of times, and then the Haunted Mansion. We had to watch Mickey’s PhilharMagic Show, and of course ride all Megan’s favorites in Fantasy land. Finally, we secured our spot on Main Street to watch the parade while drinking hot chocolate. Mom even bought us Mickey Mouse mittens for fun.

We were all exhausted by the time the grand finale float glided by us. Mom and I took turns carrying Megan out of the park as we followed the crowd to the Monorail. She was out before we had even pulled out of the parking lot to head home.

“Can you pick up your grandma and Donna from the airport tomorrow afternoon?” Mom asked once we had merged onto I-4.

“Sure, I have plans in the morning, but should be good to go afterward. What time does their plane land?”

“Six, I think. What do you have planned for tomorrow?”

“Just hanging out and stuff,” I answered truthfully since Maddon hadn’t divulged where we were going.

“You know, I’m going to want to meet these new friends eventually,” she said, emphasizing the words.

“I know Mom,” I said, looking out at the blackness that cloaked the landscape.

“Soon?” she added.

I nodded, not bothering to answer. If Lacey’s mom got to her first, introductions would be a moot point anyway.

***

I was still tired from our late evening at Disney World when I met Maddon the next morning.

“You look nice,” he said, unlocking my door for me.

“Thanks,” I said, setting my purse and the small gift bag containing his present on the floorboard so he wouldn’t see it. “So do you, but that’s nothing new.”

“You’ve checked me out before?” he asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Come on, like you don’t know girls check you out.”

“Well sure, I know I’m hot,” he said, blowing on his fingernails and buffing them on his shirt.

“Smoking hot. I’m surprised the seat doesn’t burst up in flames underneath you,” I teased, knowing he was making a show of being cocky.

“Did you just say I have a smoking ass?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at me suggestively.

“Uh, no Mr. Egomaniac, but okay, if it makes you feel better, yeah you do.” I giggled.

“For that compliment, my lovely disillusioned friend, I’ll treat you to a breakfast of champions,” he said pulling through the drive-thru of McDonald’s. “What would you like?”

“Oh yay,” I said studying the menu. “I want one of their caramel frappes and a hash brown.”

“Ick, you like those coffee drinks?”

“I’d get an IV hooked up to them if they’d let me,” I joked.

“Not me. I’m a more milk kind of guy. You know, milk does a body good? Whereas, your poison will stunt your growth. Not that that seems to be an issue yet,” he flirted, sweeping his eyes down my body.

“No, I haven’t had many complaints in that category,” I flirted back boldly. I was curvier than most of my old friends with a chest that almost doubled the size of any of the other cheerleaders. Lacey used to snidely remark that she liked that her boobs didn’t bounce around like mine, but it always came across as pure jealousy. Not that she had anything to be jealous of. I would have traded both my boobs for the endlessly long, thin, tanned legs she sported. I would never admit it in front of her now, but all bitchiness aside, Lacey is gorgeous.

“Maybe coffee isn’t that bad for you after all,” he said, letting his eyes linger.

I socked him in the arm laughing. “Stop being a perv and get us to this secret destination of yours.” I said, taking a big swig of my frappe.

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed also.

He merged onto the highway and headed east. I was dying to know where we were going, but bit my tongue from asking again. Ten minutes later, he exited off the highway, veering into Orange City.

I sat confused, trying to think of a place in Orange City we could be visiting. The only thing I really knew about Orange City was that my friends and I passed it on the way to Daytona Beach. I remember stopping at a gas station there with Colton last summer, but it was more of a "merge off and merge" on kind of situation, since the gas station had been located right off the highway exit.

A few minutes later, he turned onto a road named French Avenue. The street held mostly an odd assortment of older and newer houses. I wondered if maybe we were visiting someone he knew. A mile up the road, he turned left into the Blue Springs State Park.

“A park?” I asked, wondering why we had driven twenty miles out of our way when we had plenty of parks near us.

“Not just any park,” he said, hopping out of the driver’s seat.

I followed suit, shivering slightly from the cool breeze and the aftereffects of the frappe I had downed.

“Come on, you’re gonna love this,” he said, linking his fingers with mine and dragging me toward a trail. We walked in silence. I took in the overgrown trees covered in moss and other vegetation that surrounded us as we made our way down the path. After a few minutes, the path finally opened up to a crystal-clear-spring-fed lake. We navigated the steep embankment that led down to the water’s edge to take a closer look. It was almost like being at an aquarium. Peering into the water, I saw a turtle swimming toward us, and several fish darting around the bottom of the spring, nipping at the dirt.

“I can’t believe how crystal-clear it is,” I said, turning to him in amazement. I was startled to see he was studying me instead of the underwater wildlife in front of us. “What?” I asked, paranoid.

“Nothing, you’re just cute when you see something that catches your interest.”

“Yeah, I’ve always been a visual person," I admitted. “I love seeing things out of the ordinary.

“Well, in that case, come with me, because this isn’t why we came here today,” he said, grabbing my chilled hand in his.

“It’s not?” I asked, puzzled.

“No,” he said, leading me toward a dock that jutted out over the water. There was a large sign that read: No lifeguard on duty. Swim at your own risk. I hope he didn’t have some crazy idea that we were going to go swimming.

“Um, you know I didn’t bring my suit,” I said as we approached the edge of the dock.

“Who needs suits, darling? There’s no one around,” he said, indicating the deserted area around us.

“Whatever, it’s way too cold to go swimming,” I said.

“Nah, it’s spring fed, so it’s a toasty seventy-two degrees. It’ll be practically tropical in there compared to the brisk fifty-nine degrees it is outside today,” he countered.

“Well, as much as I’m sure you’d love it, I think there’s a law against going skinny-dipping,” I said, grasping for straws.

He barreled over laughing at my expense. “Come here, I wanted to show you this,” he said, pointing in the water at the end of the dock.

“Not funny,” I said, not wanting to admit how relieved I was.

“Ha-ha, it kind of was. You should have seen your face. Now, come see why I really brought you here,” he said.

“Fine, but this better not be some elaborate plan to push me in so you can get me out of my clothes.”

“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” he joked. “Kidding! Come on, trust me.”

I joined him, cautiously holding his arm in a death grip. If I was going in, so was he.

“Look,” he said, pointing down in the water.

Peering down, I gasped out loud as a huge grey shape passed beneath the water under us.

“What was that?” I asked shocked.

He laughed. “It’s a manatee.”

“Like at Sea World?” I asked, kneeling down so I could get a closer look.

“Exactly, they swim south when the water temperatures drop during the winter.”

“It’s huge,” I said. “Oh look, there’s another one,” I said, pointing just beyond the dock.

He laughed again. “Believe me, there’s more than just these two. Blue Springs is a popular hangout for them. If you’re lucky maybe you’ll see a baby one.”

“Eeeeeeep, that would be so cool,” I said, dropping down to sit on the edge of the dock so I could get a better look. “They kind of look like an oversized walrus without the tusk and those whiskery things.”

“Yeah, they do. I like how they seem so carefree and lazy, like they don’t have a care in the world.”

“How did you find this place? I’ve lived here my whole life and never even knew it existed.”

“My aunt used to bring me once a year after we first moved here. I pitched a fit, though, the year I turned fifteen, saying I was too old to go to a park with my aunt. I never admitted it to her, but I rode three buses that year, by myself, so I could see them. I haven’t missed a year yet.”

“Wow, who would have thought Rocker-boy Maddon would be a big old softie,” I teased. “Boy, was I wrong about you.”

“Story of my life,” he said, coming up to sit behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” I said, trying not to show how much I enjoyed his closeness.

“It’s the one place that’s always made me forget the crap in my life, and I wanted to share it with you,” he said, nuzzling my neck.

“I can see why you like it,” I said, dropping my head to the side. “Oh look, it’s a baby one,” I said, sitting forward so suddenly, I would have tumbled into the water if not for his arms anchoring me against him.

“Careful, or you’ll be taking that swim after all,” he chided.

“That’s okay, I trust you won’t let me fall,” I said, leaning back against his chest.

“No, I won’t ever let you fall,” he said, trailing light kisses along my cheekbone. I turned my head so that our lips would meet. He deepened the kiss, parting my lips with his tongue as we explored each other’s mouths. He spread his fingers over my ribcage, gently massaging through my shirt. We broke apart when we heard approaching voices.

“Look, there they are,” a young girl’s voice rang out as she ran to the water’s edge to look at the manatees.

“Bethany, wait,” her frantic mother called, still a good distance away.

Maddon and I watched as if in slow motion as the girl toppled off the edge into the deep water below. Her mom screamed and broke into a run as Maddon and I scrambled to our feet. Without pausing, he leaped into the water after her as Bethany’s mom dropped to her knees at the edge of the drop off. A confused man carrying an infant carrier raced to her side. Time stood still as we waited for Maddon to drag her to the surface. Only moments passed since Maddon had jumped in the water when they broke the surface. Bethany was crying and choking at the same time, which was at least a good sign that she was breathing. Her father reached down, dragging a still-crying Bethany up onto the grass. Once Bethany was safely stowed in her teary eyed mom’s arms, he reached down and hauled Maddon out in one swift move.

“Man, I don’t know what to say,” he said, holding back his own tears as he reached to shake Maddon’s hand, but wound up dragging him in for a hug of gratitude. “Thank you so much,” he choked out. “She always seems to be two steps ahead of her mom and me.”

“No prob, man. No harm, no foul,” Maddon said, smiling at him. “I’m just glad all those swim lessons paid off,” he added, sending a wink my way.

“What about your wallet or cell phone? We’ll replace anything that got ruined,” he said.

“I left them in the car on the off chance my girl got aggravated with me and pushed me in the water,” Maddon joked.

“Well, you’re already wet,” I said, mocking like I would push him in again.

He retaliated by wrapping his wet dripping arms around me.

“Eww, you’re all wet,” I gripped.

“Well, we can’t thank you enough,” the guy said, chuckling at our bantering. “I guess we’re headed home to change some clothes,” he added as his wife stripped their two-year-old down and wrapped her in her own jacket before scooping her up.

“Thank you so much,” she said with tears streaming down her cheek as she gave Maddon and awkward one-armed hug.

“No problem, I’m glad we were here. I’ve always called this place lucky and I guess today proved that,” Maddon said good-naturedly, linking his fingers with mine.

“Sorry about your clothes. Hopefully, you don’t live too far,” she said as a cool breeze picked that moment to blow through the trees.

“I carry extra clothes with me in my trunk.”

“Wow, you’re like a real-life superhero, always prepared,” she said. “You’re a lucky girl,” she added, shooting me a wink.

“Hear that, sweets? She thinks I’m a superhero. Who needs Thor when you have this?” He said, flexing a wet muscle.

“Oh brother, now I won’t be able to get him in the car, his head will be too big,” I joked.

Bethany’s parents laughed as we all headed to the parking area.

“I want manatees,” Bethany said, obviously recovered from her near drowning that had taken years off her parents' lives.

“We have to go home and get new clothes, pumpkin, since you forgot to put on the brakes,” her father teased as he buckled her into her car seat.

“Thanks again, man. Words can’t describe how grateful we are,” he said, shaking Maddon’s hand again.

“Glad I could help,” Maddon answered sincerely.

“So, now you can add superhero to your attributes list?” I quipped.

“I told you sweets, I’m the whole package,” he said, flashing a smile that made my knees liquefy. Something about him jumping in and saving the little girl without a moment’s thought had affected me more than anything before. If I wasn’t falling for him before, I was definitely hook, line and sinker now.

“I guess I’d have to agree with you on that,” I said, reaching out to drag him to me. This time it was him opening his mouth to my tongue as I pulled him in close. The wetness from his clothing began to seep through the material of my hoodie, but I gave it no notice.

He pulled back after a moment. “I’m soaking your clothes,” he said, trying to catch his breath from the kiss.

“I don’t care,” I mumbled, trying to pull him close again.

“I do, you just got over being sick,” he said, holding me at arm’s length.

“Fine, so hurry and change,” I pouted, making him laugh.

He popped open his trunk and pulled out a gym bag. “Why do you carry extra clothes?” I asked, since he didn’t seem like the type to workout.

“They’re for after band practice. We usually hang out afterward and I hate wearing sweaty clothes.”

“So, you’re kind of a diva,” I teased.

“Didn’t you hear Bethany’s mom? It’s superhero, not diva. Read my lips, su-per-he-ro,” he teased. “I’m gonna go change real quick,” he said, pointing to the bathrooms. “Here, take these,” he said, reaching toward his back pocket, only to come up empty handed. “Oh crap, I lost my drumsticks in the water,” he said, looking forlornly toward the water.

“I’m sorry,” I said, remorsefully. “Were they a special pair?”

“Nah, but now it just means I have to replace them, and I’m not sure if the music store I get them from is open tomorrow,” he said, sighing. “Of all the rotten luck, I should have bought some when we were out yesterday.”

“Why don’t you go change and we can figure it out when you’re done,” I said, pushing him toward the bathroom.

Once he was out of sight, I extracted the gift bag from the front floorboard.

“Here,” I said, holding out the bag once he joined me. “I thought you might need this now,” I said, smiling at him.

“I have something for you too,” he said, heading for the driver’s side of the car. “Wait, open mine first,” I said, anxious to give it to him.

He looked at me at me questioningly, but pulled out the tissue paper so he could peer into the bag.

“No way,” he said, extracting the new set of drumsticks I had bought him the day before. He held them in his hands, admiring the quality.

“I think they're supposed to be the best. I would have asked the salesclerk, but she wasn’t the chattiest of people.”

“They’re great. I normally buy the cheapest of cheap, but these are sweet,” he said, turning them in his had to admire them. “Hey, they have my band name on them,” he said, happily running his thumb over the engraved words. “When did you have time for this?”

“I took them to Disney with me. I remembered they had an engraver there, so I bowed out of riding the Haunted Mansion a third time with Mom and Megan and did this instead. Do you like them okay? I wasn’t sure if the engraved wood would be a bother when you’re playing.”

“They’re perfect,” he said, dragging me in for a bear hug. “Best gift ever,” he said with emphasis.

“Well, I figured if you’re constantly carrying them around, I wanted to be a part of that,” I said, divulging more information than necessary.

He chuckled. I felt my cheeks brighten at how ridiculous I must have sounded.

“I’m not laughing at you, babe,” he said. “Here, give me a sec,” he added, climbing into his car and opening the middle console. He came back around the car carrying a small gift-wrapped package. “Here,” he said, handing it to me.

I pulled off the wrapper, wondering what he found so funny. I let out a laugh when I pulled off the top of the little box and saw the charm nestled inside on a bed of cotton. I pulled out a set of miniature silver drumsticks attached to a delicate chain.

“I figured if you had drumsticks with you, you’d be reminded of me throughout the day,” he explained, practically repeating the words I had just uttered to him.

I laughed with him at the similar way our minds had worked.

“Will you hook it on for me?” I asked, turning around so he could clasp my necklace. “What do you think?” I asked once it was securely in place.

“They look great,” he said.

“I love them,” I said, fiddling with them with my fingers. “So, I guess our day came to a halt,” I said, opening my car door.

“Oh, it’s not over,” Maddon said, closing my door back up before I could climb in.

“It’s not?” I asked. “What are we doing now?”

“That’s for me to know, and you…” he started to say, but stopped when I gave him a shove. “Kidding.”

Bringing Kassandra to the springs was the best idea I ever had. Before the little girl had taken the spill in the water, I had enjoyed showing Kass the gentle underwater animals that had always interested me. The fact that Kass seemed equally enthralled with them only made my feelings for her intensify.

“So, what are we doing?” she asked as we headed toward the rental area.

“I thought we could take a canoe ride,” I said, pointing toward the large stack of canoes off to the side of the parking area.

“Seriously? Isn’t that kind of dangerous?”

“Dangerous?” I asked, quirking my eyebrow up at her.

“Yeah, with gators and stuff.”

I laughed. “We’ll be in a canoe. It’s not like Jaws is out there,” I teased.

“I know that, goober,” she grumbled. “I meant, what if we tip over? They don’t look very wide or stable,” she added, studying the stack critically.

“Goober?” I asked.

“Yeah, you know, dork, etc,” she said, still eyeing the stack of canoes warily.

“Trust me, Kass, I’m not going to let us capsize,” I said, pulling her toward the rental station.

“What if I make us capsize?” she said, digging her heels in.

“You won’t, but if you do, I’ll flip the canoe back over and help you back in. You swim in the ocean, right?”

She nodded.

“Well, this isn’t much different.”

My words finally convinced her, and a few minutes later we were strapped into life vests and lowering ourselves off the dock, into a waiting canoe.

Kassandra was still nervous, so I picked up the oars and slowly paddled us away from the dock.

After a few minutes, she began to relax and take in the sights around her.

“See, nice, right?” I asked, flashing a grin.

“Just don’t tip us, hot stuff,” she said, admitting her consent.

“Ha, I knew you thought I was hot,” I said, digging the oars in to propel us farther along.

“Do you do this often?” she asked, stretching her feet out in front of her.

“Once a month, except during the summer when it’s wicked hot. I like the peacefulness of it,” I said, setting the oars in the canoe to let the flowing spring carry us along.

“It’s great,” she said, dropping her head back so that she could soak up some rays.

My body responded to the ivory skin of her neck that disappeared beneath the V-neck long-sleeve t-shirt she wore. I tried to focus on something else before I embarrassed myself. I was used to hooking up with girls who were looking for the same thing as me. I was navigating on foreign ground by entering the world of dating that I had so stringently avoided in the past.

Pulling my thoughts back out of the gutter, I looked back at her and saw her studying me.

“Damn those promises I’ve made, huh?” she said, reading my mind.

I spent the drive to the airport rehashing my morning outing with Maddon. The canoe ride was more fun than I would have ever thought, and I was disappointed when we had to head back. I definitely wouldn’t mind going to Blue Springs again sometime.

“Don’t worry, we’ll come back next month,” Maddon promised.

I didn’t argue with him, but I felt we were on borrowed time, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I tried hard to believe that if Lacey’s mom did run her mouth, the situation would work itself out and we could still see each other, but the more I thought about it, the more doubt crept in.

I was playing with fire and I knew it, but the connection I felt with him made it impossible for me to walk away. Watching him doing something as heroic as saving a little girl, then to something as mundane as rowing a canoe had made me entertain thoughts about him that would make an old lady blush. I knew by the way he watched me in the canoe that his feelings matched mine, and I couldn’t help the rush of pleasure that raced through me thinking about it. I still planned on keeping my promise to my dad, but I found nothing wrong with at least fantasizing about it.

Parking at Orlando International Airport was a pain, so I had talked Mom into telling my grandma and Donna that I would leave thirty minutes later and meet them in the pickup lane in front of baggage claim. My grandma had bitterly complained about waiting on the curb like some street urchin, but Mom had stood her ground and suggested kindly that perhaps a rental car would be easier. Grandma grudgingly caved and was waiting by the curb when I pulled up to get them. I had to bite off a laugh at how out of place she looked waiting at the curb.

“Hey Grandma,” I said, hopping out of the car to give her a hug. She returned it stiffly. She and my aunt Donna had never been overly affectionate, which was ironic since my father was famous for the bear hugs he used to divvy out. It was hard to believe they were all three blood-related.

“Hi, Aunt Donna,” I said, giving her a hug too.

“Kassandra,” she said, responding with a hug slightly warmer than Grandma’s.

I opened the hatch of my Explorer and helped stow their luggage away.

“How was your flight?” I asked, buckling my seatbelt before pulling away from the pickup lane.

“It was fine, though the young lady across from us really didn’t belong in first class,” Grandma said in her normal judgmental way.

“Mom, I told you she paid the same price for her seat as we did,” Donna said, shooting me a look.

I held back a smile.

The rest of the ride was a mixture of complaints and criticism as Grandma drilled me about everything, from school to cheerleading. She had never been a fan of me wasting my time “tumbling through the air,” as she put it, but the fact that I had quit mid season irked her more.

“Quitters never prosper,” she admonished.

“I know Grandma. I remember you telling Dad that when he dropped out of the race for mayor.”

“I loved your father, but he never lived up to his potential,” she sniffed.

“Grandma, that’s not true. Daddy had a successful business and always took good care of us,” I said quietly.

“Kassandra—impertinence,” she chastised me. She had been using the phrase on us for years if our opinion ever differed from hers.

I held my tongue and drove the rest of the way home in silence while Donna and Grandma continued to bicker back and forth. It was going to be a long three days.

***

My words proved to be truer than any I had ever expected. From the moment Grandma walked through the front door, until the moment Mom drove her and Donna back to the airport three days later, she didn’t stop complaining and criticizing. She had issues with the fact that Mom wasn’t taking a more active role in Dad’s business, she was upset our house wasn’t decked out in lights like it normally was, but most of all, she was appalled that Megan was still “mute,” as she put it.

“Why in heaven’s name wouldn’t you do something about it is what I want to know,” she squabbled.

Mom was patient and waited until Megan was out of earshot to explain that they were both involved in counseling. I loved Grandma, but she was driving me nuts, to the point where I had to walk away so I wouldn’t revert back to my previous snippy ways and put her in her place.

The only good thing that came out of the visit was that the constant criticism kept us from focusing on the holiday, and before we knew it, our first Christmas without my dad was behind us. Surprisingly, the only one who shed a tear that day was Grandma. Mom was so over her that I caught her muttering to herself several times that she was going to remove the Christmas ham from the oven and replace it with Grandma’s head. Megan and I smiled when we heard her mumbling in the kitchen, before escaping to my room for some Grandma-free time. The only thing that saved me the three days they were here was my endless texting with Maddon. Through text messaging, I learned more about Maddon than anyone else I had ever known. We shared our dreams, fears, past drama, and everything in between. The break from each other was hard, but the texting allowed me the freedom to express feelings and hurts I would have otherwise been too embarrassed to admit in person.

“It’s hard to believe Dad came from that,” I said to my mom when she arrived home from the airport, looking harassed. She didn’t answer me right away, but instead headed for the kitchen. We watched as she pulled out the bottle of wine she had bought for their visit and the leftover chocolate cream pie. Megan and I laughed as she poured herself a tall glass of wine and dug into the pie without bothering to cut off a slice.

“Stress much?” I asked, grabbing a fork for Megan and me.

“That woman is impossible,” she said, shoving a large bite into her mouth and washing it down with a swig of wine.

I couldn’t help laughing out loud. “Well, she did make Christmas a little easier,” I said, still laughing.

“At least we know the hag’s good for something,” Mom said with uncharacteristic sarcasm.

“Amanda—impertinence,” I said in a perfect impersonation of Grandma’s voice.

Mom choked on her drink of wine as she busted out laughing. “Yes, I guess my impertinence is shining through,” she finally said when she was done coughing.

“What do you think, Peanut?” I said, nudging Megan with my hip as I stood up, making her giggle.

“Weelll, as fun as these last three days have been, I think I’m going to go out for a little while,” I said, edging for the door.

“Kass, I want to meet your new friend,” Mom said, sobering up and not letting me off the hook now that Christmas was over.

“Okay Mom,” I said, resigned as I headed out the door.

I drove the two-mile drive to Drake’s garage, wondering how I was going to get around introducing Maddon to her.

“Hey, babe,” Maddon said, jogging over to me and swinging me up into his arms before crushing his mouth to mine. “It’s been a long three days,” he said, pulling back slightly.

“Tell me about it,” I said, wryly.

“So, did your mom ever switch out the ham?” he joked, tucking me under his arm as we made our way to the garage together.

“It was a close call at one point when Grandma questioned the wisdom of Mom cooking roasted potatoes versus mashed potatoes. By the time that suggestion rolled around, my mom was fighting the urge to bury a meat cleaver in the back of Grandma’s head,” I said, able to laugh about it now.

“I could tell by your texts it was hit or miss for awhile there,” he said, laughing with me.

“So, you got the whole ‘SOS’ signal I was sending your way.”

“I had the getaway car all gassed up and ready to go,” he teased, pulling me in for one more kiss before we walked through the door. “I missed you, sweets,” he murmured against my lips.

“I missed you too, hero,” I said, using the nickname I had coined for him.

The same crowd looked to be there from the week before. Most of them greeted me in one form or another, making me feel welcome. It was hard to believe it had only been a week since the last time I had been here and become friends, or whatever I was with Maddon. In that short time, I had gone from, “should I hate this guy,” “to do I love this guy?” It seemed hard to believe one week had changed so many things about my life.

Forever Changed stepped out onto the stage to the same cheers as the week before. This time I cheered just as loud as the rest of the crowd and felt the stirrings of jealousy as several of the girls chanted Maddon’s name. I had dealt with jealousy over the years, but never over a guy. Usually it was over some silly material possession my friends had that I felt I should have. This jealousy was different as it coiled up through me. I wanted to claw their eyes, or at least yank their hair out.

I turned my focus off of them before I did something drastic like clothesline them or something equally extreme as they bopped up and down. Pulling my eyes off of them, I focused instead on the reason I was even here. Looking up at the stage, I found Maddon looking only at me. His eyes spoke a thousand words as my jealousy slowly drifted away.

I couldn’t but respond to his intense look and had to control myself from melting to the floor in a puddle.

“What did you think?” he said, jumping off the stage to join me during their intermission.

“I think you need to stop looking at me like that,” I chastised.

“Like what?” he said huskily, anchoring the back of my head into place with his hand.

“Like you could devour me,” I whispered back, oblivious to the crowd around.

“Just because we can’t, doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” he said, nibbling on my lip.

I shivered, having no problem imaging it.

“I have to get back up on stage.”

“Go, before you make me ignite into a fireball,” I said, giving him a shove toward the stage.

He flashed me his typical, I’m-sexy-and-I-know-it grin.

The tables had obviously turned as the girls around me now glared in my direction as he blew me a kiss once he was back behind his drums. I smiled broadly, pleased my claim on him was set. He set it in stone when he chucked his t-shirt my way, making the other girls swoon with envy.

“You guys were fantastic,” I said as Drake and Maddon joined me when it was finally over.

“We know,” Drake said in typical cocky fashion with his arm around a gorgeous brunette with legs practically up to her armpits. She laughed with us, tossing her hair so that it floated around her like you would see in a shampoo commercial.

Maddon socked him in the arm. “Dude,” he said.

“Come on, bro, you know I was kidding. Thanks, Kassandra. I’m glad you could come out again. Especially since you’ve been monopolizing all of my boy’s time,” he said, smiling at me.

“Sorry,” I said.

“No harm, no foul. Someone has to keep him out of trouble.”

“Me? You’re the one,” Maddon said. “I could keep the girls here entertained for hours with some of your exploits,” Maddon said laughing. “One time…” he started to say as Drake snapped his sweaty shirt at him.

“Whoa, man, what happens in the band stays in the band.”

The brunette and I laughed at their banter.

“Hi, I’m Kassandra,” I said, holding my hand out to her.

“Carrie,” she said. “Leave it up to boys to forget something as trivial as introductions.”

“I guess girlfriends get no love,” I quipped.

“Oh, I’m not Drake’s girlfriend,” she said, sounding appalled.

“You’re not?” I asked, confused by the way they had been hanging on to each other.

“No way. Drake is way too much of a player for me.”

“Yeah, Carrie’s way too good for me,” Drake said, slinging his arm back around her. “Carrie hangs around to keep the band in line,” he added, squeezing her shoulder affectionately.

“Don’t let him fool you. He and Maddon took pity on me during sixth grade when I was a toothpick with giraffe-sized legs. Not to mention, I was ‘geek’ before it was cool,” she said, laughing.

“Yeah, you grew into your legs, and your boobs are sure to come in someday soon,” Drake teased, darting away from her before she could hit him.

“Don’t mind him, Carrie. You know he’s just jealous since he’s still waiting for puberty to show up,” Maddon joked.

I laughed at their easy banter, finally getting what my dad had been trying to tell me for years. Real friends may laugh at you, but they’ll always have your back. For the second time that night, I felt a pang of jealousy at the close friendship the three of them obviously shared.

“How about some chow?” Drake said, dragging Carrie back in for a quick hug. He dropped an affection kiss on the top of her head. “I was kidding, Slim Jim.”

“I know, Drakie,” she said.

“Food?” Maddon asked me.

“I’m game,” I said, knowing our borrowed time was coming to an end. I didn’t know how my mom was going to handle the situation, but I couldn’t face the idea of stepping away from the new world Maddon had opened up for me.

“Why don’t you guys leave your cars here and we’ll take my Jeep,” Drake suggested.

“That’s fine, but I need to get my purse from my car,” Carrie said, pointing to her Toyota, parked over near the gate.

“Sheesh Carrie, you parked in B.F. Egypt,” Drake grumbled as he set off with her.

“That good with you?” I asked Kassandra.

“I’m game for anything,” she said, sounding preoccupied.

“You okay?” I asked, helping her climb into the vehicle, trying not to focus on how good she looked in the jeans she was wearing.

“I like your friends,” she whispered, avoiding the question.

“Kass, are you okay?” I repeated.

She shook her head, looking ready to cry.

“Whoa, did someone say something to you?” I said, ready to jump out of the vehicle to hunt down the person that had hurt her.

“No, it’s not that. My mom wants to meet you.”

“She knows about me?” I asked, feeling that was a good sign if she knew about me and still let Kassandra come.

“She knows I’m seeing someone outside my ‘normal’ group,” she said, using air quotes with her hands.

“Oh,” I said, suddenly understanding.

“She’s happy I’m seeing someone, but I’m pretty sure that will change when she finds out.”

“Maybe she won’t recognize me,” I suggested.

“You and your dad were plastered across the news almost as much as we were after the accident.”

“Crap, I forgot about that. Maybe it’ll be okay babe. After all, I’m the hero right?”

She smiled at my word choice and linked her fingers through mine as Carrie and Drake climbed into the front seats, bickering about whether or not Bruno Mars was a legit artist.

I studied the back of Drake’s head as sudden inspiration hit me. “We could always use a decoy,” I suggested, indicating Drake.

She laughed. “That’s an idea.”

“We’ll figure something out,” I said, draping an arm around her. “We have to because I’m not ready to give you up when I just found you.

Hanging out with Maddon and his friends the rest of the night was fun, but still didn’t help the fear lingering in the back of my head. Drake was a playboy through and through. He flirted with anyone and everyone of the opposite sex, but I couldn’t help laughing at his charm. Carrie was a crack up too as she entertained me with harebrained ideas Maddon and Drake had when they were twelve and thirteen.

“They always had some grand scheme about how they could become millionaires. Like the one time they decided they were going to sell candy bars at little league games. They had to hide the candy bars in the pockets of oversized jackets they snagged from Drake’s dad since the concession stand didn’t allow other vendors to sell during games. So there was Drake and Maddon, flashing spectators the different kinds of candy bars they had, like a drug dealer or something. The only problem with their plan, though, was that it was ninety degrees out, so by the time they even rode their bikes over there, all the candy had melted,” she said giggling as the guys looked put out.

“Hey, it was a good plan,” Drake said defensively, making me join in with Carrie’s giggles.

“Even if the candy wouldn’t have melted, you still wouldn’t have sold anything. How much were you guys charging?” she teased.

“Five dollars,” Maddon mumbled.

“What?” I asked, not sure I heard him right.

“Five dollars,” Drake said louder. “Look, it was a good idea. We heard it was all about the markup. That’s how all the bigwigs make it.” We sat in silence for a moment until finally Carrie cracked, and we all laughed uncontrollably, bringing the attention of everyone at the restaurant in our direction.

“Look, you don’t think iPads actually cost six hundred bucks to make, right,” Drake said defensively.

“Hey, yeah, we could get iPads and sell them at prom for five thousand dollars apiece, we’ll clean up,” Maddon teased, making the sip of water I had just taken spray across the table.

“Whatever, asses, my motto is ‘go big or go home,’” Drake grumbled, not ready to admit defeat.

“Well, you definitely went home,” Carrie said, still laughing. “Just empty handed.”

Maddon and I continued to laugh as Drake tried to mush her hair.

The rest of the evening passed quickly as the trio continued to keep me entertained on the boy’s exploits and crazy ideas they had over the length of their six-year friendship. By the time we reached our cars, my side ached from laughing so much.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” I told Maddon as we stood outside my Explorer. “Drake and Carrie are a riot.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool,” he said. “So, when does your mom want to meet me?”

“This weekend,” I said sighing as reality crept in.

“Hey, it’ll be all right. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he said, brushing my hair back so he could place his hands on my shoulders, leaning in to brush his lips across mine.

I placed my hands on his hips, then slowly moved them up under his t-shirt so I could touch the warm tanned skin that had enticed and taunted me the whole second half of his performance that night.

He released a shaky breath as I stroked the small of his back. “Your touch drives me insane,” he said, pulling back slightly.

“Why?” I asked, feeling myself responding to the huskiness in his voice.

“Because I’ve thought about it for so long,” he said, crushing his mouth back on mine. His own hands moved down my arms until they rested on my hips and snaked their way under the hem of my shirt so he could caress my stomach.

My knees liquefied at his touch as he shifted his body so I was up against the door with him, pressing up against me. The heat of his body surrounded me.

“I hate to break up this love fest, but my dad will be pulling in any minute since he worked second shift today,” Drake said, interrupting us.

I felt myself flush as I scooted my hands up to Maddon’s chest to try to put some distance between us, but he stood his ground.

“Gotcha, now scram so I can kiss my girl one more time,” he told Drake, never taking his eyes from mine.

“Cool, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Drake said, walking away laughing.

“Is Drake’s dad strict?” I asked as Maddon trailed kisses from my chin to my ear. I shivered with need as I shifted the lower half of my body where we were pressed together. My shifting only intensified the heat in me as Maddon released a small groan in my ear.

“Oops, sorry, did I hurt you?” I asked, unsure.

“I would say you couldn’t be further from the truth,” he said.

“So this doesn’t hurt?” I asked brazenly, shifting my body again.

“You’re seriously playing with fire,” he said, splaying one hand along my neck.

“Why?” I asked breathlessly.

“Because, I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you at this moment, so unless you want your first time to be pressed up against your car door where Drake’s dad will most likely see us, you need to stop moving your hips like that.”

“I can’t help it, it feels so good,” I said, forgetting about my promise to my dad as Maddon dropped his lips to mine. His hand gripped my hips pulling me even closer. I gasped as need raced through me like a runaway train.

He detangled his body from mine, leaving me feeling oddly empty. “Drake’s dad will be here any minute. We don’t want to be here when he gets home,” Maddon said in a strained voice.

“Are you okay?” I asked, afraid I had done something.

“No,” he said, laughing at my expression. “Kass, you had me so worked up, you don’t know how close I came to taking you there.”

“I wouldn’t have stopped you,” I said, making it clear I felt his pain.

“I know, that’s the problem. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. I know keeping the promise you made to your dad is important to you. It’s my job to make sure you keep it.”

His words brought a knot to my throat. I got the idea he had his fair share of women over the years, and could have any girl he wanted, and yet he was willing to abstain for me.

“Text me when you get home,” he said, opening the car door for me.

“I will. Hey, you never answered my question before. Is Drake’s dad some kind of asshole or something?”

“Oh no, he’s the exact opposite. He’s a really great guy, but you don’t want to start a conversation with him unless you have several hours to talk. Once he gets started, there’s no shutting him up,” Maddon said, chuckling. “Now scoot,” he said, closing the door behind me.

I backed up as a pair of headlights lit up the night behind me and a dark pickup truck pulled into the space next to Maddon’s car. I couldn’t help laughing as I saw Maddon trying to get in his car before he got stuck talking. My last glance in the mirror before the night swallowed them up was Drake’s dad pumping Maddon’s hand up and down in a handshake like it had been ages since he’d last seen him.

I was still smiling when I pulled into my driveway. The night had been perfect, that is until I opened the front door to find my mom waiting up for me with a severe look on her face.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, trying to head for the stairs like nothing was wrong.

“Who’s your new friend, Kassandra?” she asked in a deadly serious voice.

I grimaced and silently cursed Lacey and her cow of a mother. I sighed and turned around. “His name is Maddon,” I said.

“Maddon Johnson?” she asked in a more elevated voice.

I nodded my head.

“Kassandra how could you? Do you not care anything about the memory of your father?” she asked with tears coursing down her cheeks as she stood in front of me.

“Mom, I think Daddy would have been okay with…” I started to say when a stinging slap stopped my words in midsentence. Shocked, I raised my hand to my burning cheek. I couldn’t remember my mom ever hitting me. Anger flared up in me as I looked at her.

“Oh my God,” she said, dropping to her knees, sobbing. “I’m sorry, Kass, I didn’t mean to hit you. I was just shocked to hear you say your father would have been okay with it,” she choked out.

The anger left me like a deflated balloon. I sank down on the floor next to her. “Momma, I was serious,” I said, holding her hand. “You just don’t know Maddon. He’s nothing like his father. He’s kind, funny and wouldn’t ever think about hurting anyone,” I said, thinking of the little girl Bethany. “I think I love him,” I whispered.

“How long have you been seeing him?” she asked, pulling her hand from mine so she could stand up, no longer crying.

“A week,” I said, knowing it sounded terribly weak to admit I was in love with him after only a week, but she didn’t understand everything we had shared.

“A week,” she said sarcastically. “A week,” she repeated, laughing incredulously.

“I know it sounds crazy, Mom, but if you got to know him you’d know why. He’s the funniest person I’ve ever met. He’s so cute, and he makes me feel special,” I said, trying to explain.

“Have you slept with him?” she asked harshly.

“That’s none of your business,” I said, shocked by the person she had turned into suddenly.

“I’m your mother and it is my business. I’m responsible for your actions,” she said in the same harsh tone.

“That’s rich. Where was your parenting when I needed you so badly after Daddy died? Where were you when Megan needed you?” I demanded. “I’ll tell you where, you were in the nice little pity cave you created for only yourself. You left me to handle everything, my pain, Megan’s pain, and everything in between. Did you care that my friends didn’t understand? Did you care that I felt like my whole world was collapsing in on me? I felt like I had lost not just Dad, but you also. That’s why I cussed out Mr. Mathews and pulled the fire alarm. I was so sick of being alone,” I said, as hot tears poured down my cheeks. Everything I had been holding inside came flowing out of me like an erupting volcano. “It’s because of all of you that I met the one person who does care about me,” I said, sinking down on couch, sobbing uncontrollably.

The couch dipped down from Mom’s weight as she joined me. “Kass, I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling me into her arms. “I have no excuse for what I did. You’re right. I made you become the adult. I will never be able to apologize enough. I don’t know what happened to me after your father died. It was like something in me died, too. I’m ashamed to admit I let the pain consume me and forgot all about you and Megan. I put my selfish needs ahead of my own children,” she added quietly. “I don’t know how I will ever be able to ask for your forgiveness.”

“You don’t have to ask,” I said as tears poured down my cheeks. “I know it was hard on you.”

“Yes, but it was hard on you too,” she said.

“But I survived with Maddon’s help,” I said, trying to get her to understand.

She sighed. “Honey, I don’t want you to see him because he’s no different than his father,” she said, standing up and walking toward the antique desk she used on the far side of the room.

“Mom, you don’t know him,” I started to protest, but was cut off when she held up a legal envelope.

“Kass, I do know him in a sense,” she said, extracting some of the papers from the folder.

“What is that?” I asked confused.

“It’s a file the prosecutor gave to me. Rick’s case goes in front of the judge after New Year’s. Your friend Maddon is a character witness for his father.”

“No, he can’t be,” I said, shaking my head. “He hates his father.”

“Kass, I don’t think any kid really hates their parent,” she said kindly.

“But he does Mom. His dad used him as a punching bag, daily.”

“Well, he’s on the public defender’s list and is slotted to show up in front of the judge on January third,” she said, handing me the paper so I could see.

“This has to be wrong,” I said, looking at Maddon’s name and date of birth listed under the heading, “Character Witnesses.”

“Kass, Maddon has had his share of run-ins with the law too,” she said, sitting back down beside me.

“How do you know?” I asked, jumping to my feet aggravated.

“I know because the prosecutor ran a screening on all of the character witnesses so he can use whatever he can to discredit them.”

Bile rose up in my throat at the trap they were setting for Maddon. “They couldn’t have found anything on him. He’s practically a boy scout, or I guess you could say a hero,” I said, feeling the whole thing was a misunderstanding. I knew Maddon. He had nothing to hide.

“Honey, he was arrested for drug charges when he was fourteen.”

“No, Maddon doesn’t do drugs,” I said, shaking my head in denial.

“Kass, it’s true. They wound up dropping the charges. Jim thinks they worked a deal since the records have been sealed, but honey he had them in his backpack outside an elementary school when he was arrested.

The room spun from her words. In all the secrets we had shared during our three-day texting marathon, Maddon had never mentioned being arrested.

“He was also suspended for a week in junior high when he punched a kid maliciously in the face. Sweetie, he’s violent, just like his father.”

I got up and walked out, heading up the stairs to my room. My heart shriveled up into nothingness. I could have argued that he wasn’t violent, that he had told me he had never raised his fist to anyone, but it was all lies. Maddon had fed me nothing but lies. I wondered if his whole ploy was just to get in my pants. I couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t taken the opportunity tonight. I was all but willing to give him the one thing I had promised my dad I wouldn’t.

I closed my door behind me and dropped onto my bed. I pulled my iPhone from my bag after hearing it chirp.

Hey sweets just checking to make sure you made it home okay. Text me when you get this.

I stared at the message for a moment before clicking my phone off and sliding it in the drawer by my bed. Turning off my light, I curled up on my side, clutching a floppy-eared stuffed bunny I had gotten in my Easter basket when I was four. I tried to sleep, but my eyes refused to close as I replayed every moment Maddon and I had spent through my head. Mom came in to check on me at one point, but I pretended to be sleeping, so she eventually tiptoed out of the room.

My eyes opened the next morning to the sun creeping through my window. With my throat dry as the Sahara, I headed downstairs, hoping to grab a bottle of water to bring back to my room before anyone else woke up. I was surprised to find my mom in the kitchen with a stack of papers in front of her.

“Good, you’re up,” she said, looking at me like she had about as little sleep as me. “Pack your bags. We’re going away for a few days.”

“I’m not sure I want to go anywhere,” I croaked from my sore throat.

“You don’t have a choice. We’re going to get away from all of this for a few days,” she said, indicating the file from the lawyer in front of her.

“Where are we going?”

“Beech Mountain in North Carolina,” she said.

“But Mom…” I started to protest.

“I know, skiing is not your thing. It’s really not my thing either, but I always made an effort for your father’s sake,” she said, smiling sadly at the memory. “But we're not going skiing, anyway. We’re going so we can hang out in the lodge, drinking hot chocolate, and sitting by the fireplace. So, go pack your bags. Our flight leaves in three-and-a- half hours,” she said, standing up to give me a hard hug. “I’m sorry, honey.”

I nodded my head, working to keep the tears at bay.

“I know the pain is harsh, but it will dull over time.”

I nodded again, even though I didn’t believe her. I was pretty sure my heart would be ripped to shreds for a long time.

I was literally going insane. I hadn’t heard from Kassandra in days. The first night, I assumed she went home and fell asleep before she could text me back. By the end of the next day, I was worried that something had happened to her. I threw caution to the wind and called her house, but no one picked up the phone. Without knowing what else to do, I drove to her house, completely relieved to find her Explorer in the driveway. But where the hell was she? I texted her every twenty minutes the next day and never got an answer. By Sunday, I didn’t care that I hadn’t been appropriately introduced to her mother, I drove back to Kassandra’s house, determined to know what was happening. I parked my car across the street from the two-story home she shared with her family. As I made my way up the walkway, I began to freak out, suddenly realizing I had no idea what I was going to say.

I waited a moment to collect myself before ringing the bell. I was tempted to leave and wait for Kass to contact me, but my desire to see her made me stay. I could hear the doorbell chiming from inside as I pushed the button and waited. After a few minutes I rang the bell again and peered into one of the long windows that flanked the door, but saw no one.

“They’re not home,” a snippy elderly voice said behind me.

“What?” I said, turning to face a little old lady that could have been a twin of that chick in the movie they made about the Titanic.

“I said, they’re not home,” she snipped. “You need to borrow my hearing aid?”

“No, ma’am,” I said, turning on the charm. “Do you know where they went?” I asked.

“Yep,” she answered.

“Could you tell me?” I pleaded.

“Nope,” she answered.

“Can you at least tell me if they’re okay?” I asked, allowing my frustration to come out.

She looked at me hard for a moment. “They’re fine, or as fine as they can be after the tragedy that struck them this year. You know all about that?” she asked.

I nodded my head.

“You ain’t hurting one of my girls, are you?”

“No, ma’am, I love one of them,” I admitted.

“I suspected as much. They went on vacation. Their momma came over and asked me to collect their mail, said her daughter was hurtin’ over some boy. You know anything about that?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t. I wish I did,” I said, raking my hand through my hair in frustration.

“Well, I reckon it can be resolved once they get home,” she said, turning to leave.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, feeling defeated as I walked toward my car.

“Young man,” she called.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You remember, just because your papa has his demons don’t mean they’re your demons,” she said, disappearing into her house.

I stared after her, wondering what she knew about my demons.

I headed home to wait out the rest of the break. In a week I’d find out exactly what was going on, one way or another. The question was could I make it a whole week without knowing what had happened?

We arrived home the night before classes were supposed to resume. I was pretty sure Mom had planned it that way so I wouldn’t dwell on it too much. The trip at least helped the days pass and allowed time for me to sort out my feelings for Maddon and re-categorize how I felt about him. I began to wonder if it was even possible to fall in love with someone you’ve only known a week, or was the whole thing just me being stupid and lonely. By the time we were flying home, I had myself convinced that it was probably the latter, that after years of being with a guy that I had no chemistry with, I was bound to fall for someone that sparked a fire in me.

I would have responded the same with any guy who showed interest, I lied to myself the next morning as I got ready for school.

“You ready for today, honey?” Mom asked, handing me a cup of coffee when I entered the kitchen.

“Sure,” I lied.

“It’ll be okay,” she said, seeing through my lie.

I nodded, figuring it wasn’t worth it to argue. I was pretty sure that nothing about school would be fine again. I had less than five months to go before I walked for graduation.

The student lot was busy by the time I arrived to school, and I couldn’t tell if I was being paranoid or not, but it seemed like everyone was watching me. I saw Maddon leaning against the building, waiting for me. I took a deep breath. I had been expecting this.

“Kassandra, what the hell is going on?” he demanded. “Did your mom find out?”

“Yeah, she found out,” I said, trying to control my traitorous heart that raced being near him.

“So what gives?” he asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know, Maddon, you tell me what gives. You forget to mention the fact that you’re speaking as a character witness at your father’s hearing tomorrow,” I said, raising my own voice, not caring who could hear.

“That’s what this is about? Kass, I have my reasons for that,” he said, looking hurt.

“Funny thing is I get that part. What I don’t get is why you lied to me about the drugs and violence. Did you think I would judge you? Me? Have you heard nothing I’ve said about how I used to be? I was no angel either.”

“Kassandra, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Maddon, I know about the drug charge,” I said in a lower tone, not wanting anyone else to judge him. “And I know about the incident in middle school.”

“Kass, you should have come to me. I could have explained,” he said, looking more hurt than I had ever seen him. “I thought we had that kind of relationship,” he added in a voice that would have broken my heart if it wasn’t already shattered.

“So you could feed me more lies,” I whispered.

“I never lied to you. Did your sources tell you why the drug charges were dropped?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“They were dropped because the solitary joint they found in my backpack was already half smoked. I took a drug test and passed. You know why? Because I didn't smoke it. They did a DNA test on it, and guess who matched? That's right, my dad. Did your source also mention the only reason they searched my backpack that day was because my dad was too drunk to drive me the five-and-a-half miles to the middle school. I was halfway there when I stopped outside an elementary school so I could rest. A cop driving by thought I was skipping school and looked suspicious, so he hauled me in.”

The hallway began to close around me. I had prosecuted him without the facts. I wanted to throw up, scream, anything to erase the hurt that was etched across his face.

“You know what the ironic thing is? I took a beating from the old man over that joint two days before that. He couldn’t remember where he had put it when he was in one of his drunken hazes. So, I guess you could say I paid the price for that joint twice. Well, three times now, huh? As for the violence thing, I punched a kid when I saw him pounding on a friend of mine, Drake as a matter of fact. I hit him once. At first, I wanted to pulverize him, but every hit I’d ever received from my old man flashed through my head in an instant, and my rage turned to disgust. That was six years ago, Kass, and I haven’t been in a fight since. I never lied to you. If anything, I bared my soul to you because I thought I could trust you. I guess we both got betrayed,” he said, walking away from me.

I gasped out loud as the door slammed closed behind him. I wanted to call him back. Plead with him to forgive me, but the words wouldn't come out. I had prosecuted him and thrown away the key without giving him a chance.

I walked down the hall away from my first period class in a daze. I reached my destination having trouble breathing, paying no mind to the person that tried to stop me. I didn't care about knocking. I just had to get in.

“Kassandra, are you okay?” Mrs. Leighton asked.

I shook my head, sinking down in the chair as tears streamed down my face.

Mrs. Leighton walked around the desk and softly closed the door.

She sat back down behind the desk and picked up her phone. “Michelle, please hold all my calls, and have Kassandra Cole excused from first and second period,” she said before hanging up the phone. She then pushed the box of tissues toward me.

I grabbed a handful and clutched them in my hand like a lifeline. After a few minutes, I was able to calm down enough to ask her the question that had brought me here. “Why am I poison?” I finally asked.

“Why do you think you’re poison?” she asked, studying me intently.

“Because, I ruin everything I touch,” I said brokenly.

“Like what, sweetie?”

“Like my father’s and Maddon’s hearts.”

“Maddon Johnson?” she asked.

I nodded my head.

“What makes you think you broke your dad’s heart?” she asked, switching gears.

“I was a brat. I whined. I made demands,” I said, trying to make her understand my poisonous behavior.

“Kassandra, you’re a teenager. If teenagers were perfect, what would parents complain to their friends about?”

“The accident was my fault,” I finally said, tired of keeping it bottled up inside me.

“Honey, why do you say that?”

“He shouldn’t have even been in the parent drop-off that day. I was mad that he wouldn’t buy me a cute convertible like Lacey’s, and I had been complaining about it for weeks. I tried to convince him I needed a new car and that the Explorer was running like crap, but it really wasn’t. My dad finally caved and dropped it off at the dealership the night before, so it could be checked over. I lied and he died.”

“Kassandra, it’s not your fault that your dad chose to have your vehicle looked over.”

“I was still complaining about it the next day. The whole drive to the school I gave him a hard time. I questioned his love for me,” I said, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I stayed in the car after we got here that morning, still complaining. The driver behind us got pissed that we were holding up the line, but I didn’t care,” I whispered. “I didn’t care until I heard that same driver ran my father and little sister off the road, and then I cared, but it was too late. My caring at that point didn’t change anything. Don’t you see? All of this is my fault! My poison contaminates those around me.”

“Kassandra, you didn’t force Rick Johnson to drink the liquor that made him intoxicated just like you didn’t make him get behind the wheel. What happened to your father was a tragedy brought on by the actions of one man, not the actions of a teenage girl who has been way too hard on herself. You’re not the poison, honey. The man who did this is. It’s time to forgive yourself. If your father was half the man you claim he was, then he was wise enough to know that you loved him.”

“You don’t think I’m a terrible person?” I whispered, not quite daring to believe.

“No, honey, I don’t think you’re a terrible person. Now, what’s this about Maddon Johnson?”

“He and I have been kind of seeing each other, and my mom found out,” I said.

“And she was mad?” she asked.

“At first she was just upset, but when I told her I think I loved him, she went a little crazy. She had this whole folder on him that the prosecutor rounded up to use against him. There was a drug charge and some violence issue. I assumed Maddon had lied to me, so I cut him off without asking him,” I said miserably, remembering the hurt on Maddon’s face.

“I see,” she said, sitting back in the chair. “I take it he wasn’t happy about your assumptions.”

“No, he was crushed,” I said as new tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. “Turns out the drug charge was bogus, and the violence charge stemmed from one of the things I love the most about him.”

“Why do you think you allowed doubts to creep in?”

“Because I thought falling for a guy after only a week was farfetched. That I had misinterpreted my feelings for him.”

“And how do you feel now?”

“I couldn’t care less that it was only a week. Love is love, and I know that’s what I feel for him, even if it’s too late.”

“Do you think it’s too late?” she pried.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“Kassandra, if your dad was standing here right now, what would you say to him?”

“I would tell him I was sorry and I love him,” I said without hesitation.

“Well, there you go. Maddon is alive and accessible.”

Her words struck a chord in me. She was right. I could fix this situation.

“Thanks, Mrs. Leighton,” I said, jumping to my feet.

“You’re welcome, my dear. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Ugh, really? I thought after the breakthrough we had, we’d be done.”

“I believe the phrase, ‘you wish,’ is appropriate here,” she said, shooting me a big grin.

“Whatever,” I said, softening the word with my own smile.

I grabbed my pass for third period from the girl at the desk and headed out. I was tempted to skip, but knew I’d have a better chance of finding Maddon at lunch.

Third period dragged as I watched the minute hand tick by. I was so lost in thought about finding Maddon that it took me almost the whole period to realize I was the subject of a lot of whispering going on in class. Mrs. Lewis had to call the class to attention several times. I heard Sarah and Jessica mention mine and Maddon’s name before Mrs. Lewis threatened to separate them.

Surprisingly, for the first time in my life, I couldn't care less about the negative gossip surrounding me. All I cared about was finding Maddon and apologizing profusely until he forgave me.

Fourth period was no different, and by the time the bell rang for lunch, I was ready to climb the walls.

“Hey, stranger,” Colton said as I threw my books in my locker. “You never called during break. I thought we were going to hang,” he added as I walked briskly through the halls, searching for Maddon.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, it was such a crazy break,” I said, not slowing my pace.

“So I’ve heard,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, stopping abruptly. He was the last person I expected crap from.

“Whoa, slay another dragon. I was just making a comment. Believe me, I’m the last person to judge someone for who they want.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’ve just been hearing snippets of trash-talk for the last two hours,” I said, resuming my hunt down the hallway.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asked, keeping pace with me.

“I’m looking for Maddon so I can apologize. Do you have any idea where he might eat lunch?”

“I think he hangs out in Smokeville,” he said, following me as I veered off down the hall that would take me there.

“You don’t have to come,” I said, surprised he was still following me.

“I have nothing better to do,” he said. “I’m not sure you’ve noticed, but I don’t fit in much with our group of friends anymore.”

“You fit with me,” I said, looking sideways at him. “I mean that.”

“Thanks, girl. I hope you find your guy. I’ll catch you tomorrow,” he said, slowing to a stop.

“I won’t be here. Maddon’s dad goes in front of the judge tomorrow,” I said, also slowing my pace.

“Sheesh, I didn’t know it was that close.”

“It seems like forever truthfully.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there more during your bad months,” he said, looking remorseful.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. You had your own drama going on.”

“Doesn’t matter, I don’t like being the kind of friend that leaves their friends high and dry.”

“It’s not like I was much better. Hell, you had to spell it out to me that you were gay,” I said quietly so no one could here. “How’s that for being observant?”

“Okay, so we’re even,” he said, holding out his hand for me to shake.

“Even,” I said, giving him a quick hug before we parted ways. “I’ll see you Wednesday,” I promised as I picked up my pace.

Smokeville was empty except for the normal stoners you would expect to find there. With no time for disappointment, I continued my search until the bell rang for fifth period. For the rest of the day, I looked for Maddon in between classes with no luck. I debated heading over to Drake’s when school let out in case he was there, but I didn’t want to apologize in front of an audience in case he didn’t accept my apology.

Disappointed, I steered my car home.

I was pissed to say the least as I squealed out of the school parking lot.

I picked up my phone and dialed Drake. “Hey, you want to skip school and hang out today?” I asked.

“Sure, normal place?”

“Yep,” I answered.

“See you in ten.”

I disconnected without saying goodbye. I cranked the music to drown out the words taunting my head.

I got to Drake’s barn first and parked my car on the far side of the building where his parents were least likely to see it if they showed up for some reason. I was already inside waiting with a beer in my hand by the time he showed up.

“What’s going on?” Drake said, stepping into the building, eyeing the beer in my hand. He raised his eyebrows. “It must be big if you’re thinking about breaking your sobriety pact.”

“You were right about Kassandra,” I said, turning the can around in my hand, debating whether I should open it.

“Dude, seriously? Well shit, I really liked her,” Drake said, sitting on the second stool.

“Yeah, so did I.”

“So, what happened?” Drake asked, watching my inner battle with the beverage in my hand.

“One, her mom found out, and then all shit hit the fan when Kassandra found out I’m speaking at the hearing tomorrow,” I said.

He nodded his head. He wasn’t surprised by the news since we had discussed it in great detail when Kassandra was on vacation with her family.

“I guess the prosecutor had some thick folder on me with all my past bogus charges in it.”

“Are you shitting me?” he asked.

“Nope."

“Did you explain it all to Kass?”

“I did, but I was pissed that she believed the lies without checking with me first,” I said, chucking the beer in my hand as the anger in me flared up again. Drake and I watched as it exploded satisfyingly against the wall.

“Cool…” Drake started to say as a brunette-colored head peered in through the door.

“Is that anyway to greet a friend?” Carrie asked, dragging her beach chair in behind her.

“Dude, you called her?” I asked a sheepish looking Drake.

“I wasn’t sure what the issue was, and we normally do this stuff together,” Drake said, shrugging his shoulders.

“But she’s a chick,” I said.

“Wow, really? I forgot,” Carrie grumbled, sinking down in her chair.

“No offense. I just don’t know if a chick will get where I’m coming from on this,” I tried to explain.

“Because the male species is just so complicated,” she said dryly.

“No, because chicks normally stick together on this stuff,” I said.

“Well, now that you mention it. Wait, let me explain,” she said, holding up her hand to warn off my indignant protests. “I heard you say you’re surprised Kass didn’t come to you first to hear your explanation on the charges. Have you put yourself in her shoes? You come home to find out not only that your mom knows that you’ve secretly been seeing the son of the man that murdered your father, but that that same guy has a record.”

“Damn, girl, how long were you eavesdropping?” Drake asked admiringly.

“Well, I heard a big majority of their fight this morning. I was in the bathroom when they started fighting and felt awkward interrupting,” she said sheepishly. “Anyway, not that I’m on her side, Maddon, I’m just saying, I see her side of it too, and I know the whole situation must be tearing her up inside. It’s her family, you know?” she asked, looking at me earnestly. “We know your family life sucked major ass before this, but can you see her side a little bit?”

I digested her words for a minute.

“You need another beer to throw?” Drake joked, making me smile for the first time in days. Carrie let out a giggle, eyeing the beer-drenched mess behind her.

“If you throw another drink, can it be a root beer, because seriously, beer smells like pee,” she said, wrinkling up her nose.

“Smell a lot of pee, do ya, Slim Jim?” Drake teased.

I tuned out their joking as I thought about Kassandra and the hurt expression on her face before I had stomped away.

I had lied about one thing. I had promised myself I would never hurt her.

Mom and Megan were waiting for me in the kitchen when I got home from school. Mom was busy dicing tomatoes on the cutting board while Megan colored at the island. “Hey, sweetie, how did it go? Did you see Maddon?”

“Yeah, I saw him,” I said, draping my hoodie over the back of the barstool next to where Megan was coloring. “Hey, Peanut, how was school?” I asked, ruffling her hair.

She answered with a smile.

“How did it go?” Mom asked, scooping up the discarded tomato ends to drop in the disposal.

I grabbed the last remaining few and added them to the ones already in the drain. I left the water running while I turned to my mom. “It was awful, but I’m going to fix the situation tomorrow,” I said, meeting her eyes.

“What do you mean awful, and what are you going to fix?”

“I’m going to fix the hurt I caused him. I took things for face value without going to the source first,” I said.

“Oh, come on, sweetie, he’s just feeding you more lies,” she said, looking concerned.

“No Mom, Maddon doesn’t lie,” I said, louder than I intended. “If anyone lies, it’s me. I lied to Daddy about my car running bad, and he died because of it. I lied to Maddon because I told him I trusted him and yet, I turned on him the first chance I got,” I said, angrily swiping at a tear that escaped my eye.

“Oh, honey,” Mom said, approaching me.

I turned my back on her and blindly switched on the disposal as more tears leaked from my eyes. A strange grinding noise came from the disposal and I stuck my hand in without thinking. My hand was barely inside the disposal when a weird pressure spiraled around my palm. Confused, I pulled my hand out as blood poured from my palm, flowing to white ceramic tile at my feet.

“Oh my God,” Mom said, scooping a hand towel off the counter as blood dripped down my arm onto my clothes. Mom wrapped the towel around my hand and shut off the disposal. “We need to get to the hospital,” Mom said as my blood soaked through the towel.

I turned to face Megan and saw her staring at the bloody towel and the blood on my shirt. She opened her mouth and for the first time in months she started screaming.

I turned to Mom bewildered as I began to feel dizzy. “Mom, I don’t feel very good,” I said as darkness closed in on me.

I woke a few minutes later on the floor of the kitchen with my mom beside me, holding my injured hand up over my heart. Megan was still screaming like a banshee and in my foggy brain I couldn’t understand why my mom didn’t make her stop.

“The ambulance is on its way,” Mom said, when she saw my eyes open.

I nodded, cutting my eyes at Megan and back at Mom who was watching Megan helplessly. “I’m okay Mom. Help her,” I said as my brain began to clear a little.

“I have to hold your hand up,” she said, never taking her eyes off of Megan.

“What in the blazes is all the ruckus in here?” Mrs. Miller asked, coming in the backdoor without knocking.

“Kass cut her hand and Megan needs me,” Mom said tersely.

“Well, honey child, what are you waiting for? I got Kass here. You go attend your baby,” she said, taking my injured arm in her spry hands and holding it up.

“They said to hold it up over her heart,” Mom said, getting up to kneel in front of Megan who was now making a loud moaning noise.

“She tells me that like I wasn’t a field nurse for thirty years,” Mrs. Miller grumbled to me.

We both watched as Mom took Megan who was now wailing into her arms. Mom rocked her in her arms, soothing her. “She’s okay, Peanut, she just cut her hand. They’ll have her fixed up and good as new,” she said over and over again, stroking Megan’s hair as she continued to wail.

I could hear the sirens in the background and watched in a daze as the saturated towel above me began to drip onto my chest. I closed my eyes as the dizziness assaulted me again. The next time I opened my eyes, our kitchen was swarming with paramedics and firemen. I could hear Mom explaining what had happened as they checked my vitals and began loading me up on a gurney. I saw one of the firemen pull the offending knife out of the garbage disposal.

A few of the paramedics crowded around Mom and Megan as Mom explained she thought Megan was in shock. She mentioned the accident Megan had been in with my dad and they started checking Megan over while she still clutched my mom. It was weird to hear her finally making noise after so many months of silence.

They loaded us all up in the ambulance as Mrs. Miller promised Mom she’d clean up the mess before we got home, making her point clear when she shot a look at Megan.

The paramedics shielded me from Megan's view when she started chanting, “Too much blood,” in a gasping voice.

I tried to remain focused, but the ride and my dizziness lulled me in and out of sleep.

Several hours later, Megan and I were bundled up in the backseat of Mrs. Miller’s minivan. I was the proud owner of thirty-three stitches on the palm of my hand where the paring knife had done a good job of making my palm resemble sushi. Megan was sleeping since they gave her a mild sedative in the hospital. Mom shocked me by saying that Megan had held an entire conversation with her once the sedative began to relax her.

Mom carried Megan up to her own bed while I lethargically climbed the stairs to my room. Mom joined me a few minutes later and helped me change into pajamas.

“This is going to be a pain,” I said, trying not to bump my hand that was starting to let me know it was not pleased with me as the painkillers began to wear off.

“Literally or figuratively?” Mom asked, making me laugh.

“Both,” I said, climbing under my covers that she held up for me.

“Do you think she freaked out like that because she was stuck in the car with Dad and all that blood?” I finally asked the question we had been avoiding.

She sighed and sat on the edge of my bed. “I think so, but I hardly remember anything from that day.”

“Not me, I remember it vividly,” I admitted.

“You do?” she asked, laying down on the other pillow next to me and holding on to my uninjured hand.

“Yeah, you called me during third period, telling me there had been an accident. Mrs. Lewis called in an aide and drove me to the hospital herself. Dad was in surgery when I got there and Megan was in the E.R. sitting on a gurney covered in Dad’s blood waiting for the doctor to put a cast on her arm.”

“Where was I?” Mom asked in a low voice.

“You were in the chapel praying,” I reminded her. “I held Megan’s hand as they set her arm and then put a cast on it. It didn’t dawn on me until later that she didn’t so much as make a peep when he set her arm. Once her arm was set and casted, I helped her take off her blood-covered leotard and helped her into pajamas the hospital gave us. Grandma and Donna got there as I was carrying her through the halls looking for you. I handed her off to them so I could come find you. The surgeon that worked on Daddy found you at the same time I did,” I said in a quiet voice.

“I left you to deal with all of that,” Mom said in a shaky voice.

“It was the worst day of our lives,” I said, letting her know that I understood we all handled grief differently.

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. I’m just glad we finally got to talk about that day,” I said.

“You said something earlier in the kitchen that upset me,” mom said.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” I said, remembering my rant.

“No, this is something we need to discuss. You said your father’s death was your fault. Honey, that’s not true. We knew nothing was wrong with your car. Your dad figured a tune-up wouldn’t hurt since you had been driving it for awhile.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Really,” she said, squeezing my hand.

“Thank goodness,” I said as the pain killers took affect and I drifted to sleep, exhausted from my evening.

I woke several hours later to a throbbing hand and a small body squeezing in between Mom and me.

“Hey, Peanut,” I said, pulling her close to me.

“You didn’t die,” she said in the sweetest voice I had been missing for months.

“No, Peanut, I didn’t die. Just a boo-boo,” I said, holding my hand up so she could see my gauze-wrapped hand in the moonlight that was streaming through my window.

“Just like me?” she asked.

“Yep, just like that,” I said, giving her a squeeze. “I love you, Peanut.”

“I luz you too, Kass Kass,” she said, drifting off to sleep.

“Do you need more painkillers?” Mom asked from the other side of my bed.

“Do you mind?” I asked as my hand blazed out of control.

“Not at all,” she said, climbing out of my bed and retrieving my pain pills off my dresser where I had left them. She shook out one and handed it to me with a bottle of water.

I took it gratefully, mumbled my thanks and promptly fell back to sleep.

***

The next morning I woke to my hand once more on fire. I looked over and found Mom was already awake. “What do we do with Peanut today?” I asked quietly, taking care not to wake her up. The original plan was to send her to school, but the craziness of the night put a wrench in that idea.

“I asked Mrs. Miller if she could watch her while we’re at the courthouse,” Mom answered, standing up and stretching. “Do you need another pain pill?”

I shook my head no. “I’d rather not. They make me sleepy and I want all my wits about me today.”

“You trust him?” she inquired, finally asking the question we had been avoiding.

“With every fiber in me,” I said.

She nodded and left my room.

Anxiety raced through me as my moment to step up to the stand approached. I knew when Kass and her mom arrived because I could hear the sympathetic murmurings of the crowd around me. I saw them take the seats behind the prosecutor out of the corner of my eye, but I kept my eyes straight-forward, focusing on the task at hand.

The lawyer's words seemed like mumbo jumbo as I remained fixated on the back of my father’s head in front of me. He greeted me like we shared the closest of father-son relationships when I first arrived, but my standoffish attitude had his lawyer encouraging him to turn back around.

My aunt, who was sitting beside me, squeezed my hand reassuringly as they called my name. She supported my decision to speak today and lent the moral support I needed. I walked to the stand with lead in my legs. I placed my hand on the Bible and repeated the words that were asked of me.

"Yes, I swear to tell the whole truth, so help me God."

And that is exactly what I did. I recounted every beating I had ever taken, every drink my father took, and every drug he had ever tried. The defense attorney tried to interject when he realized I wasn’t here for my father. From the moment I began talking, I spoke to only two individuals in the room, Kassandra and her mom. This was my apology to them. I had kept quiet my entire life, just trying to get by to prove I was nothing like the person who was on trial. This was my chance to finally stand up for myself.

My words brought tears to their eyes that flowed freely down their cheeks and I was glad for the closure I was giving them.

My father sat in shocked silence as I continued in great detail. Hearing the truth was a tough pill to swallow when you had been drunk for the last eighteen years.

I felt pity for him, he was my father after all, but I kept my eyes firmly on Kass and her mom. This was what was right, this would set them free.

Epilogue

We floated along in our canoe together with me tucked securely between Maddon’s legs as he rowed us effortlessly through the water. The springs had become our place to continue to get to know each other more.

“So, Megan says hi by the way,” I remembered, knowing if I forgot to tell him, I wouldn't hear the end of it from her.

“Cute, tell her I said hey back," he said, setting the oars in the canoe by our legs so he could wrap his arms around my waist.

“It's funny, she spent months not saying a word, and now she won't shut up," I laughed.

"She cracks me up," he said as he used his finger to trace my scar.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t turn off the disposal before you stuck your hand in there,” he said, shaking his head.

“Are we going to talk about this every time we hold hands? Besides, I was preoccupied defending your honor,” I said.

“Thirty-three stitches,” he said.

“I know, I felt every one of them,” I said as my hand began to burn in response.

“I’m sorry you hurt yourself, babe,” he said, nuzzling my neck which proved to be an excellent pain reliever.

“Me too,” I quipped. “No, actually, I’m not. At least it got Megan talking, and helped Mom and me work through a lot of stuff, so maybe it happened for a reason. Everything that happened was tough and I will never stop missing my father, but I am glad you're finally free from yours,” I said, sinking back against his chest.

His mouth traveled my jaw line as he tilted my head back so his lips could meet mine. I deepened the kiss by opening my mouth to his as his hands gently caressed my ribcage, slowly moving upward.

I pulled back to look in his eyes. “I’m not going to keep the one promise to my dad,” I said, laughing as his eyes widened. “But I am going to wait until it no longer feels like I would be letting him down,” I said, bursting his bubble.

“Damn, so close, yet so far away,” he said as I giggled. “You’ll be the death of me, woman,” he said in a mock growl.

“I hope not or you’ll miss out when I am ready,” I teased.

He laughed with me. “Okay, so I see a lot of cold showers in my future then.”

I laughed too, enjoying life fully for the first time in as long as I could remember. One tragic event had changed everything. Shifting our lives to bring us together and we would be forever changed because of it.

Enjoy this excerpt from

When I was younger, I always thought of life like chapters in a book. I never knew what each turn of the page would bring, but always hoped for something better and happier. I regarded my younger brother and myself as characters that were meant to persevere, no matter what obstacles were thrown our way. Of course, our life was far from the paranormal worlds that I loved reading about. Not that you could call our life normal—not in the least, but we definitely didn’t have any cool supernatural powers or anything like that. Still, fantasizing about it helped pass the endless miles down highways that look the same no matter where you are at. If I were a paranormal character, I would be an illusionist. I had made it an art form to never let anyone know how I was really feeling. We never knew what kind of mood my mom would be in from one day to the next, so most days I was the emotional catalyst of the family, always trying to appear happy and cheerful, when inside I was screaming. My brother, on the other hand, would be a special character. Kevin is a unique soul, caring and selfless. He definitely doesn’t deserve this life—neither of us do, but at least we have each other, and I would die to protect him.

We arrived in Four Corners, Montana, in late September, over a full month after the school year had already started, but my little brother and I were used to that by now. The town definitely lived up to its name. Four adjacent corners with lonely looking establishments perched on each one. We observed the Higgins Grocers, which sounded vaguely familiar on the south corner and a small mom and pop restaurant called Sunny-Side Up on the corner directly across from it. Withers, a gas station that had seen better days, sat on the third corner opposite from the restaurant, which left the last corner to the run-down trailer park called Shady Lane that would be our new home.

As Jim, my “step-dork” as we liked to call him, pulled our beat-up car into the dirt-packed path, my brother Kevin and me exchanged horrified looks. We weren’t freaked out we would be living in a trailer, since it was a humongo step-up from some of the dumps we had lived in over the years. Just the idea of having a roof over our heads was an absolute godsend. It was more the size of the town that made Kevin and I exchange uneasy glances. Even at nine, Kevin understood how our mom thought, and we both knew there was absolutely no way Lucinda would make it in a town this size.

Like always though, I kept my face impassive, not letting my disappointment show. It had taken most of the morning for Lucinda to sign all the housing papers the woman at the welfare office in Bozeman handed over. During that time, I’d allowed myself to daydream about the stability our lives would have, for at least a few months anyway, and after two weeks in a shelter, I was ready for a little space.

Living in a shelter was always tough on Kevin and me. The accommodations were always tight with no privacy to speak of with food that you ate just for the sake of eating. If I never drank another glass of powdered milk again, I would die a happy person.

This last shelter had been more bearable than most of the others we had lived in over the years. Instead of separating men and women into different spaces crammed with cots, they had family rooms that were roughly sixteen feet by sixteen feet where entire families could stay. The rooms had two double beds, which meant Kevin and I were forced to share. At seventeen, I should have bucked at the idea of sharing a room, let alone a bed with my brother, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way, he was all I had, and I’ve spent my entire life trying to protect him.

Already knowing that we would most likely only be living in our new home for a short while was always a hard pill to swallow, no matter how many times we’d been through this. It had taken us two weeks in the car to get to Montana from California since we had to make several pit stops to earn money for gas. Kevin and I were both equally sick of the car and didn’t relish another move when Lucinda decided yet again that the grass was greener somewhere else.

Step-dork, Jim slowly drove past a string of mobile homes that varied in size and appearance. We’d stayed in our share of projects, dumpy motels and run-down apartments, but never a trailer park. I was surprised that some of them were actually relatively nice with extra built-on storm rooms and utility rooms. Small bushes and fake flowers bordered the majority of the homes, making it clear that the current owners took pride in the little plot of land they inhabited. I couldn’t help but smile a little at the dozens of god-awful looking garden gnomes peeking out behind several of the bushes surrounding one of the trailers.

It all seemed so very normal, which only further proved our new home was doomed from the get-go. We definitely didn’t exist in the realm of normal.

Jim pulled into a narrow drive and stopped in front of what was to be our new home. The overgrowth of weeds and unkempt bushes surrounding the trailer gave the indication that it had been sitting empty for quite a while. The exterior of the trailer was covered in faded metal paneling, but looked to be in decent enough shape. There were no broken windows as far as I could tell and as long as there were no holes in the floor or roof, it might actually be tolerable. Lucinda and Jim piled out of the vehicle, leaving Kevin and me behind in their typical parental-lacking fashion.

Kevin used his insignificant body weight to try to push the heavy car door open. The door cracked open slowly, sticking at half-mast on its rusty hinges. I twisted around on my seat and used my feet to push it open the rest of the way before sliding out after him. It would have made more sense for me to sit by the only door that opened in the back seat, but the rusted-out hole that took up the majority of the floorboard on my side of the car freaked Kevin out. He was scared he was going to fall through the floor, so I had taken the less desirable position for the remainder of the trip. Being older, I didn’t want to admit to him that the hole sort of freaked me out too, especially at night when we were sleeping in the car. My mind would run wild, conjuring up images of every insect imaginable creeping up through the hole in the pitch-black night and crawling all over us. During the day, I would drape my bare feet out the open window, daydreaming about being somewhere else, anywhere else. This method worked through California and most of Nevada, but once we got into the mountain ranges, the temperature dropped drastically, making it impossible to keep the window open. Kevin and I stayed huddled together under the thin blanket we shared at night, shivering in our thin California apparel that didn’t serve us well in the chillier temperatures we were driving through. Where the hole in the floor really sucked though was when the sleet and snow on the road splashed up from underneath the car. Kevin had a meltdown watching the snow spewing up through the hole, scared it wouldn’t stop and would bury us alive in the backseat. My hands froze as I scooped it back up and made a game of throwing it back down in the hole. Kevin perked up at the makeshift game and admitted he even kind of missed it once we made our way down the mountain.

“So, should we go check out our new home?” I asked, using all my weight to close the stubborn car door behind me.

“I guess,” he said grumpily.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, using my hip to nudge him teasingly.

“Come on, look at this place, Katelyn. You know there’s no way she’s going to make it here,” he muttered, kicking at a small pebble on the ground, making the dust swirl up and cover the toes of his worn-out sneakers.

“Hey, you never know. What do we always say?”

“That we’re glass-half-full kind of people. It’s not like I really know what that means,” he said, still sulking.

“Yes you do. It means we believe in someday soon, right? Someday soon this crazy life will be behind us and we will hardly even remember any of this bad-crazy-messed-up stuff, okay?” I asked, pulling him in for a one-armed hug.

“Okay,” he agreed, sliding one of his narrow arms around my waist as we headed up the metal stairs to our new home.

I pulled the door open and gasped when it opened easily making me take a steadying step backwards. I barely kept my balance, but poor Kevin who was standing directly behind me and weighs forty-five pounds soaking wet was knocked backwards, landing on his butt at the bottom of the stairs.

I couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up my throat at his shocked expression. It had happened so fast, one minute he was standing behind me, and the next he was on his backside.

“Are you okay?” I asked, trying to control my giggles as he dusted off his backside.

“Yeah, but sheesh, keep your butt to yourself next time!” He said, racing up the three steps in front of me.

I followed behind him and together we stopped in the small living room, taking in our surroundings. I was pleasantly surprised that for something so small on the outside, it was somewhat spacious inside, but I guess anything would seem spacious after two weeks in a cramped shelter and another two camping out in a car.

The kitchen was at one end of the trailer and looked clean enough upon my inspection. The windows that lined the small kitchen space were covered with faded yellow curtains that could be closed at night for privacy. Underneath them stood a small oak table with two chairs which suited Kevin and my needs fine since Lucinda and Jim rarely ate with us.

The living room held a surprise that made Kevin squeal when he saw it. The television sitting on the rickety old stand was small in size and nothing like the HD TVs everyone had now, but going without television for months made us both appreciate having one, despite its lackluster appearance. The shelter we vacated that morning had a large flat screen in the common room that someone had donated, but since most of the other residents were women, talk shows and soap operas were pretty much on 24/7. Kevin had been missing his favorite cartoons for a while, but was careful not to mention it around Lucinda or Jim since they adamantly felt only babies watched cartoons.

Kevin flipped on the television quietly and settled down on the worn carpet in front of it. I smiled at him and continued to peruse the rest of the trailer. A small narrow hallway led out of the living room on the opposite side of the kitchen. Three doorways lined the hall and a fourth one stood at the end. Opening up the first door and glancing inside, I was pleased to see a small bedroom complete with a twin bed and a tall narrow dresser. Moving on to the next doorway, I discovered another small bedroom that mirrored the first one. Temporary or not, I couldn’t help but feel giddy about having my own space in I don’t know how long.

I continued my exploration through the rest of the trailer, finding a microscopic bathroom that at least had all the necessities, including a bathtub. I sighed with pleasure at the sudden luxuries we had.

Turning back around, I headed down the hallway, avoiding the room at the far end where Lucinda and Jim had disappeared to. By the grunting and moaning I had heard while I was inspecting the bathroom, I knew Mom and Jim would be busy for a while. Walking back into the first room I’d inspected, I decided to claim it as my own to further distance myself from the room on the end. I took time to inspect the dresser, opening each drawer in hopes that the last occupants had left something behind. I was mildly disappointed when I found them all empty with no hidden treasures. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little pleased as I sank onto the narrow bed, taking in my surroundings.

“All of this space is mine,” I said quietly to myself. “I can close the door….” My private party was interrupted when I saw that my room had no door. Dismayed, I stood up to inspect it and grinned in delight when I discovered it was a pocket door. I pulled the small brass tab with my fingers and watched as the door slid out of the panel in the wall. “Sweet,” I mumbled to myself, heading back toward the living room.

“Kevin, I’m going to go unload the car. Do you wanna help?” I asked my brother who was now lying across the sofa.

“Not really,” he said meekly.

“You okay?” I asked, reaching up to brush my hand across his forehead.

“Yeah, just a little dizzy.”

“It’s probably because you’re hungry. It’s been hours since we ate breakfast at the shelter. Maybe if Mom comes out soon she’ll give me the food stamp card she got this morning from that welfare lady. I’ll go get some sandwich stuff at the grocery store,” I said to him before I headed out to the car.

I opened up the trunk of the car with the keys, swearing under my breath at Lucinda. Skipping meals was a normal part of our life, but she swore she would try harder once the doctor at the clinic told her Kevin was failing to thrive. In layman’s terms, it meant he wasn’t gaining weight. The doctor had given her guidelines on the foods Kevin should be eating to help alleviate the problem, and Mom sat there, nodding her head in agreement, putting up a good front for the doctor, but as usual, her promises meant nothing. Why can’t she just try to make a freak’n effort for once, I thought bitterly as I reached into the trunk and grabbed the duffle bag stacked on top. I grunted from its weight as I adjusted the strap around my narrow shoulder. Gripping the two handles together with my left hand, I tried to take some of the strain off my shoulder as I staggered toward the trailer. The bag was Lucinda’s and was twice the size of all the other bags, making it a brute to carry.

“Hey, that looks heavy,” a snarky voice said behind me.

Turning around, I saw that I was being studied intently by a girl that looked roughly to be around my age, but taller with flat brown hair that looked like it hadn’t seen shampoo in days. She had high cheek bones that I would kill for, but her complexion was splotchy and greasy. Her dingy, baggy overalls, which I hadn’t seen anyone wear in years, made her legs appear endless all the way down to her old dirty cowboy boots. I swept my eyes over her, seeing myself reflected back if not for the illusion I cloaked myself in.

She was poor like us and didn’t care who knew it.

I was the exact opposite of her.

I had spent years perfecting the art of disguise. No one in the last ten or so schools I had attended over the past couple of years ever suspected by my appearance that most nights I slept in the car with my family, and that the majority of those nights we went to bed without dinner. I always washed carefully in the gas station restrooms each morning, taking care to make sure my hair was combed nicely and pulled back in a neat ponytail. I would tell myself that how we lived was no one’s business and didn’t matter, but I still kept my secret.

“Nah, it’s not too bad,” I said, adjusting the strap again, hoping she wouldn’t volunteer to help.

“So, what grade are you in?” She asked in the same snotty tone as before.

“Um, I’m a senior. How about you?”

“Me too. I was supposed to graduate, but they held me back last year. Said they didn’t think I was ready for that yet. I don’t care much though, I wasn’t looking forward to graduating yet anyways. My brother’s been held back two years, so he’ll be in our class too.”

I cringed at the thought. He’d been held back two years? Each year it was a struggle for me to start midyear at a new school and try to keep up, but I somehow always managed to squeak by with passing grades by the end.

“Well, that’s if we all get in the same class,” I said, silently praying against the idea.

“Sure we will. There’s only sixteen seniors in the whole school. Well, seventeen now with you.”

“SEVENTEEN?” I asked shocked.

She laughed mockingly at my surprise. “Well, there’s only fifteen ninth graders, so we got them beat. The second-grade class is the most this year though, they got nineteen.”

“You mean the high school isn’t separate?” I asked, feeling a little nauseous. The woman at the welfare office did mention that I would be going to a small school, but I hadn’t given her words much thought, assuming that it would just be a smaller high school than I was used to. I never once considered this.

“Heck no, they group us all together like a herd of cattle. I’ve been going to Munford with the same group of people my whole life,” she said with an edge in her voice that made it clear she held animosity against someone.

“Ugh, so it goes all the way down to kindergarten?” I asked, shuddering at the idea. The last school I attended in California was a regular high school, so being juniors, we had been part of the bigger fish group in the pond with the guppy freshmen and sophomores beneath us. I had secretly been looking forward to being at the top of the food chain this year, but it was a little much to think there would be tiny baby guppies swimming amongst us.

“Yep, and we ain't had a new student start since Shirley McJones moved here with her family six years ago. Course, she had no problem fitting in since her father made millions in oil,” she said with the same bite in her voice.

“There’s no other school in this area?” I asked, searching for a lifeline.

“Nope, the closest schools are forty-five minutes away in Bozeman. With all the money some of the folks around here have, they could have bused us there, but noooo, they like the small feel of Munford and treat it more like a private school than a regular school. Of course, they still allow us peasants to attend,” she said snidely.

“Well, I guess I better get this stuff inside,” I said, edging toward the door, suddenly sick of all the new information I had just gained.

“Okay, well I’ll see you at school,” she said, turning on heel and shuffling away. I watched her kick at the dirt with the toe of her boot as she walked, making the loose dirt fly up and then fall back down covering her boots with a light dusting. Her shoulders seemed to slump from the weight of the large chip she obviously carried.

I gripped the handles of the duffle bag with one hand and pulled the door open with my free hand.

“What took so long?” Kevin asked as I dumped the oversized bag on the floor and sat next to him, gasping from the exertion I had used to haul everything inside.

“I met some girl that will be in my class at school,” I muttered.

“How do you know she'll be in your class?” he asked puzzled.

“Because there’s only like sixteen seniors in this whole school.”

“Sixteen?”

“Yes,” I said miserably as he started laughing.

“What are you laughing at, dweeb?” I said, a little annoyed that he found the situation funny.

“It’s-s-s ju-just f-funny. I had more kids in my class last year,” he said between his belly giggles.

“Ha-ha, keep laughing it up, punk,” I said, affectionately ruffling his hair. It was nice to see him happy again. The last month of close quarters had been intense, and the strain had definitely worn on both of us.

“KATELYN,” Lucinda yelled down the hall, making me cringe.

“Do you want me to go?” Kevin asked as I reluctantly got to my feet, looking down the hallway with trepidation.

“Nah, I got it. You watch your shows while you still have a chance.”

I slowly made my way down the hall, dreading the idea of entering “their” new space.

“Yeah?” I asked through the thin door, hoping to delay entry into the room.

“We need our cigarettes,” she said through the door with enough aggravation in her voice that it was clear I had taken too long to respond.

“Okay,” I said, relieved it was an easy fix.

I quickly made my way down the hallway and down the steps to the car. I knew from past experience that not being prompt would only make matters worse for me in the long run. I had spent my entire life catering to my mother’s whims and knew what was expected of me.

I grabbed both packs of cigarettes from the dashboard and the small empty tuna can they were using as an ashtray. I carried the cigarettes in one hand and the overflowing makeshift ashtray in the other up the three metal steps taking care not to let the used butts fall out of the can.

“Crap, I forgot their lighters,” I mumbled, annoyed at myself as I pulled the door open.

“Kevin can you dump this in the trash while I grab the lighter out of the car,” I asked, handing him the smelly ashtray.

“Sure,” he said, cupping it in his small hand as I headed back down the stairs.

Within seconds, I headed back up the stairs and on my way down to their room. I knocked on the door lightly and held my breath as I slowly opened it. I was relieved to see that they were at least decent as they waited impatiently for their drug of choice.

“What took so long?” Lucinda demanded as I reached over to hand them their two different kinds of cigarettes.

“I forgot the lighter in the car and needed to dump the ashtray,” I said passively, trying to get a gauge of her mood.

She shook her head. “Blondes. Always forgetful,” she joked with Jim.

“Yep, I’m surprised she remembered which trailer we're in,” he said, choking on his own laughter at his stupid joke.

I ignored both of their jokes, knowing the best move was to let their comments roll off my back. There was a time when I would have killed myself trying to win Lucinda’s approval, but years of physical and verbal abuse had hardened me and my only goal now was to protect Kevin from the same abuses I endured.

“I brought your bag in from the car. Do you want me to go over to the store after I finish unloading the rest of the stuff?” I asked, addressing Lucinda since most time Jim was incapable of making trivial decisions.

“Sure, that sounds good. Rosa, our welfare rep, said the trailer was stocked with basic stuff, so I’m sure we have pots and pans. Buy the stuff for sloppy burritos, and I'll make dinner tonight,” she said, proud of the commitment she had made.

“Sure Mom, that sounds good,” I said, my mouth already watering at the thought. For all her faults, she was definitely a great cook and when she got the inclination to make something homemade, it was always guaranteed to be tasty. “Is it okay if I get lunch stuff for school tomorrow, too?”

She grimaced at my words. “I guess, but you better get the forms you need for free lunches. I don’t want to be wasting our money when the state owes us.”

“Okay Mom,” I said, backing up out of the room before she changed her mind. I hated asking for the forms at school and going to a small school would make it even worse.

I had just barely closed their door behind me when I heard Lucinda’s voice calling me back through the thin wall. Sighing, I turned back around.

“Yeah?” I asked, opening the door a crack.

“Bring me my makeup bag and clothes before you go off gallivanting around.”

“And I want a big glass of ice water,” Jim piped in, not wanting to miss out on handing out a task.

I looked at Lucinda inquiringly, but she let it slide. She was usually picky when Jim or any of the other step-whatevers tried to boss me around. She felt her demands were justified since she was my actual flesh and blood, but Jim was just a step-dad in a long string of losers Kevin and I had to endure over the last ten years. Lucinda liked to switch husbands like most women switched handbags or shoes. The cycle was always the same. They would meet, fall in love promptly, realize they knew nothing about each other, and fight until Lucinda gave them the boot. The fighting I could endure, but the love part was always nauseating since most of the time she didn’t care who was around when they groped each other. I was six when I learned what the "birds and the bees” were and decided at that moment I wanted no part of that if it made you act so crazy. It was several years later that I realized that not all adults flaunted their sex life so openly and the majority of them didn’t act like loons over it.

“Sure,” I said to Jim, not wanting to rock the boat.

I unloaded the rest of the car in my usual methodical way, placing our meager belongings in their appropriate places.

I delivered Lucinda’s makeup bag to her just as she requested. Her makeup bag was a long standing joke with Kevin and me, since she treated it like it was the Holy Grail. She once left one of my step-dweebs on the side of the road when he threw it out the window during an argument. It took Kevin and me almost an hour to pick up the makeup that had scattered across the landscape. Lucinda cursed out the dope the entire time as Kevin and I tried to salvage as much of the busted up cosmetics as we could. Once we had it all cleaned up, we pulled away, leaving step-dad number four looking forlorn on the side of the road. Looking out the back window, I had almost felt sorry for the poor guy. Lucinda suffered the seven stages of grief over the next three hundred miles we traveled and contemplated turning around multiple times, but by the time we reached the next big city and started to settle in, he was soon forgotten as Lucinda searched for her next Prince Charming. I often yearned for those brief three months when it had just been the three of us. Lucinda was a much better parental figure when she wasn’t fawning over her newest obsession.

Being a writer is a dream come true. I am grateful to everyone that has helped me along the way. It is a dream that wouldn’t be possible without the support of my family, a talented editor, and all the wonderful friends I have met along the way. C.A Kunz (both of them hehe), who are the sounding, or should I say venting boards I find myself turning to more often than not. My Ink Sister’s, who keep me going each and every day with their supportive words, love and frequent chocolate messages that keep me sane. And last but not least, my lovely Paranormal Plumes Society, a wonderfully talented group, established with the sole purpose of supporting each other in every way possible as we navigate through this writing journey together.

Find out more about me and my friends at

http://theplumessociety.com

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