Shore to Shore

by FountainPenguin

Anne Maria comes up to Mike's for a visit with Vito. Mike and Zoey are okay with this, really! They even invited her! Well, Zoey's okay, obviously (being less than perfect is beneath her). It's Mike who doesn't like this idea. And it isn't just because of his unfinished chemistry homework. See, he has a sharing problem... (Written May 2016)

I almost plowed into his house. Not the first impression I would have hoped for, but hey, it ain't Anne Maria's fault that he and his mom decided a' plant their pretty little home at the end of a cul-de-sac at the bottom of a sharp hill, really.

Nice place with the last rays of sunlight shining on its windows, I thought, staring up at it as I rolled into the driveway. I knew a pinch of Vito's (of, well, Mike's) background from what one of them had told me themselves or I'd gleaned off Zoey or Staci back at the Playa. Not enough to make me a nosy person, y'hear, but I knew that Mike's mama didn't make too much money, and the house had been a present from the parents of his dad. A, "Hey, we're sorry that our son totally screwed up your lives for twelve years; we swear we didn't realize he was such a psycho" sort of gift. Gotta love your in-laws.

Much to my surprise, except also kind of not really, it was Zoey who answered the cherry red front door when I knocked. All the typical Zoey shine drained from her face. If she weren't paler than paper already, the blood would've gone with it. Her peppy smile tipped down at the corners. Fingers tightened on the door handle. I rather suspected that she wanted to close it softly in my face, turn around, and walk away with small, quick steps and arms pinned to her side.

"Oh, crap," she said. "U-um, hi, Anne Maria. You must not have gotten our messages."

I lowered my can of hairspray and shoved a nicely-arched brow a good ways up my forehead. "And what messages would those be, doll?"

"We thought we… We tried to… Uh, we had to cancel your weekend with Vito."

"… Excuse me?"

Zoey pinched her upper lip between her teeth. "Mike has so much homework."

Homework. Yes, tiny indie child- that's why. That's what's written on the scrunched bridge of your nose.

"No. No way, Red. I drove seven hours for this. Mike only lets him out one weekend a month. You can't call take-backs now! That ain't fair to him."

"I know, I know!" She squeezed her hands over her nose and closed her eyes. "Never mind. You're here now, and we'll just have to work with it. Has Vito ever told you if he's good at chemistry?"

Between us, I thought he and I had good chemistry. Did the school give out bonus points for that? I'd written my end-of-the-year assignment on the chemical formula of love, actually.

Zoey brought me inside, rubbing her shoulder the whole time. At first we waited in the front living room, squishing our toes into the soft gray carpet. I went through maybe a solid quarter of my bottle of spray-on tan. But waiting wasn't working for me, so I headed for the kitchen. Zo was a tad slow to react. The window had captured her attention, and she came sprinting as I left her.

In the pale-green kitchen, I found an older, black-haired lady tapping away on a russet laptop. I lifted both brows. So this was Vito's mom? It hadn't occurred to me that he could have Asian blood. Latino, yes- Evidently he took it after his father's side. But Asian? Never guess it. I lowered my spray can.

"Hey, doll-"

"I'm Zoey's mother," she said without looking up. "You're Mike's other girlfriend, I presume?"

I tightened my lips a little. Well, this certainly explained a lot. "I'm Vito's girlfriend."

She shrugged and clicked the laptop shut. "It's the same birth certificate."

"It's a different mindset…"

"It's the same body."

"But-"

"It's the same physical human," she insisted, still not having looked up while she patted around for her loose papers and charging cord, and that ended it. I bit the tip of my tongue and nodded. Zoey stood at my shoulder, stiffly horrified.

Go on, I thought at her, smacking her with a mental baton. Be the medium here.

Zoey bit her thumbnail before clearing her throat. "Mom, again, it's not… Mike. He isn't faking his multiple personalities."

She blew a scrap of hair from her lips and looked up for the first time. "Of course not. He's Vito and he's different. Now that she's shown up to cover your shift, you ready to head home, Zoey?"

"What brings you up here to Auburn County, Mrs. White?" I couldn't look at her eyes, so I focused on the long dark curtain of her hair. It had a lovely sheen, but it was exactly as straight and dull as the woman who wore it. It framed her face too sharply to make her inner beauty (assuming she had any) shine through her face. With a bit of strawberry blush and a curling iron, I could work a miracle. Or at least half a miracle.

Zoey winced. "I still have my permit. I have to drive with an adult."

"Don't fret, doll. You'll get yaself a full license in no sweat at all." I think I succeeded at keeping the teeth out of my voice.

"Zoey?" Her mother flicked the zipper on her laptop bag. "Again, now that your replacement's here, shall we go?"

Zoey glanced my way. One hand went up to tuck a stray bra strap beneath her sleeve. "I'd like to stay just a few more minutes to talk to Sy… Mrs. Dunn."

To wait and see if Mike triggered enough to say good-bye, she meant; obviously, someone else was in control if he wasn't hovering over her like she dripped with sticky syrup.

"Fine by me, doll. Where is he now?"

"He fell asleep about ten minutes ago," she confessed, twisting her heel into the tile.

I pulled out my hairspray again. "Ya think his mom would be okay if I fixed myself up a bowl of cereal or somethin'?"

Mrs. White looked me over with newfound interest. "Can you breathe through that cloud of poison vapor?"

"She'd be fine," Zoey said to me. "In fact, I think I'll get some too before the long drive, okay, Mom?"

'Long drive', she said, like four hours was anything compared to seven, and that's not including the way back.

I poured myself a bowl of Honeycomb cereal while Zoey pulled out the milk for me. "How's school?" I asked her, and she said, "Fine". "Met up again with any a' the others?" "Just Mike." Of course just Mike.

"What's your favorite school subject?" Zoey wanted to know. She'd found two mugs for our milk. She'd gone straight to the right cupboard, first try, and stood on her toes to pull them from a shelf she couldn't see while her eyes were pointed back at me.

"I like home ec. English ain't bad either."

"That's cool."

Our spoons clicked against glass bowls. I kept expecting her to call me out on chewing my Honeycomb louder than she was. She didn't say, but I was sure she'd noticed. Very sure.

We were alone in the sickly-colored kitchen- her mom, I think, had gone to warm up the car, or at least deposit her laptop in it. Minutes passed and I didn't see her return inside. Either she was concerned the thing'd get stolen if she left it out there alone… or she thought I would take it if I stayed here much longer. I liked my Tumblr and all, but I wasn't a thief.

Zoey squirmed her feet against the table legs. Her chair slid over polished planks with a squeaky sort of honk. "That'll scratch up the woodwork, hon," I said around my last bite.

"Sorry."

"Don't need ta 'pologize to me, doll. It's not my house. I don't even know where they keep the clean dishes."

She studied me. No words. Hot nasal breaths. I was so busy not breaking eye contact with her, not letting my eyes stray to the centerpiece of sunflowers or the landline phone on the wall above the desk behind her, that I stuck my spoon in my mouth again and ended up with only milk and a few dots of dust.

"More Honeycomb, Anne Maria?" Zoey asked, sliding the box towards me without blinking.

"One helping was enough for me, sugar. It was a seven-hour drive and I stopped to eat at Carl's Junior about two hours back." I got up and rinsed out my bowl (And yes, I was very careful to keep my chair from scraping the floor). It wasn't easy. Rinsing, I mean. Dishes were piled high in the sink- far more than I'd ever seen in one place in my life, except I think for Chef's kitchen that one time Dawn and me'd wandered in there to look for her misplaced friend, the barnacle or mussel or something of the weird aquatic sort. My aunt wouldn't have had none of this mess in her hotel. An instinctive itch started in the backs of my wrists, but I pushed the urge to clean aside. Not my dishes. Not my house.

"Have you been here long, Zo?" I asked, studying the nearest heap.

"Few hours," she mumbled. "It was a half-day at school today."

"Is someone else here?" asked a woman from the next room. She had to be Vito's mom, unless some stranger wearing a plush blue bathrobe had decided to wander into his house, or she was some second mother of Zoey's (I do my best not to judge). She leaned through the doorway, gripping the frame with both hands.

"Oh," she said, visibly relaxing as she took me in. "You made it after all. He'll be happy."

I switched off the water and crossed the kitchen to meet her, hand extended for a shake because I really wanted to have physical contact with another human after that long in the car. "Anne Maria Blackburn, friend of Mike's and a bit more than a friend of Vite's, if you don't mind me sayin' it. You're…?"

"Sydney Dunn. Mother of six and counting," she added with a chuckle.

Six?

"It's such a pleasure to finally meet you in person," she went on before I could double-check the math. She withdrew her hand, but her dark eyes stayed warm. "Vito talks about you almost constantly. I'm impressed. It's unusual to see him so fixated on just one girl- hasn't been since Jennifer when they were thirteen. He must think you're something really special."

My heart glowed. Sydney took the milk from where it sat in front of Zoey's empty bowl and replaced it in the fridge. "Is it all Anne Maria, both names?"

"Whatever rolls best off your tongue, doll. Do you mind if I call ya 'Doll'?"

"Not if I can call you Annie."

"If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me. I ain't picky."

It occurred to Zoey then that Sydney had seen only her with the cereal- my dishes had already slipped into the sink with the others. She shot a frown in my direction as she stood up with her bowl. "Has Mike gotten up yet, Ms. Dunn?"

"He's doing better, yes. He said he'd be down shortly to wish you good-bye."

"What's 'doin' better' mean?" I asked, squinting. Zoey looked down at her feet, so Sydney gave me my answer.

"I know you know about Mike's… Vito's dissociative identity disorder, but do you know much about the 'splinter' alternate personalities?"

"I know of 'em. He told us all a bit when we were back at Playa Des Losers aftah our elimination, but I've never seen or heard from any of 'em myself. Did one spring up and have one of their usual panic meltdowns?"

Sydney rearranged another dish in the sink with a clicking of ceramic. "They did, but we soothed him down again."

I mouthed, "Teddy Grahams?" to Zoey, and a weight dropped from my shoulders when she shook her head and whispered back, "Snowball". At least that was good news- Snowball, if I remembered correctly from Cameron, was fairly pleasant, if a bit of a scaredy-cat ditz with an unhealthy obsession for screaming "Stranger danger". I grimaced. "And while your mom was here too, Zo? That can't have been enjoyable, love. Sorry about that."

"It was a real hoot," she muttered, adjusting a strap of her sandal.

"I can only imagine." I turned before I finished speaking, because footsteps were bouncing down the stairs. A few seconds later we were met by the perpetrator. He appeared in the doorway from the living room, one palm to his temple and the other at the wall, and froze.

"Anne Maria," he said, taking his hand away. "Um… Hi."

"Hey-ya, Mike. Zo told me I got canceled, but I talked her outta it. Y'know it ain't fair to do that to Vito, 'specially after his girl drove all aftahnoon from Maybrush."

Mike shook his head, eyes buggy wide. "No, no! You're right, that wouldn't be fair to you at all. Either of you. I, um, I just… Yeah. No, you're totally right, of course you are. It's my fault for procrastinating all my school projects this long. I'm glad you're here to make me see sense. Even just thinking about cheating Vito out of his weekend wasn't right at all."

I didn't reply, Sydney didn't speak, and we spent a moment puzzling over each other in silence. Here was my boyfriend, only… not. I felt like I'd gone for groceries and bumped into an ex I'd somehow never technically like, went out with in the first place. It's weird how that works, how I can find myself all tingly when Vito's shooting me a smile or holding my hand, but Mike has the exact same body, and he just… wears it different. Like his skin is still a few sizes too big for his scrawny bones. Sure, he's a sweetheart - I'm not so blind I'll deny that - but I'm not attracted to him somehow, not even a little, for reasons I'm not even sure of myself. I may have to major in psychology just to find my answer. In fact, one of these days I plan to write a social rulebook detailing just how a girl should act around her man's alternate personalities. I'm sure it's a wide market. Make a couple hundred bucks off it, maybe. Buy some new shoes. Maybe get the laces in a different color- Hot pink, like my favorite shirt. Yeah, that could work. I can pull off hot pink easy.

Really though, not a single hair on my head could blame Mike for his awkwardness. I think both of us were dwelling on the thought that sooner or later, our limbs would be cuddled together and our lips locked tight like castle gates. He'd be a different person then, in every possible sense of the word; there in body but not in mind. Did that bother him, I wondered.

He dropped his gaze and shuddered. Apparently, yes.

Zoey tapped her fingernails against the table. "So, Mike, I hate to leave you so soon after Snowball, but I'm about to be heading out. My mom's already out waiting in the car. You'll… be okay without me, won't you?"

He took her hand. "I'm sorry you have to go now. I'll call you when I can- Promise."

"One kiss for the road?" she urged, already up on her toes with her hands flat to his chest. Mike hesitated, then bailed. Both me and his mother were in the room, and I wondered which of us was stopping him.

"Call you," he repeated, leaving her standing there with rejected arms, and reached for the hem of his shirt to tug it off.

"You can walk her out, Mike," I said, lowering my hairspray. "I've waited a month for this. I don't mind holding off another couple minutes so you get in a nice good-bye."

So he did, their hands a little limp and swinging as they moved through the living room and back to the front door. I didn't follow them, but I could see them standing there, Mike scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm not very good at good-byes," he said. "The others don't always let me have them. Do you, um… You still want that kiss?"

"Always." They exchanged a small smooch that quickly delved deeper as she leaned him up against the wall and cocked one of her legs. Their heads tilted first in one direction, then made their slow rotation back the other way, noses and foreheads scraping. He fixed that loose bra strap again without opening his eyes. Saliva dripped down on her shirt.

I left them to it and wandered over to the fishtank on the opposite side of the kitchen, so I could put my back to them. There were six in the tank- fish, I mean. Five were gold, and one was black. Out of respect, I set my sprays aside and plopped my chin in my hands as I watched them paddle their pretty tails. Their entire world consisted only of this clear little bowl, and I didn't want to poison the water that they breathed or anything. Killing precious pets while the owner was within shouting distance ranked up there with barreling cars straight through the walls, probably.

After a couple minutes, the door open, then fell shut. A muttered conversation; most likely Mike giving himself a pep talk, or leaving Vito with instructions. "Looks like you're up," Sydney said then, coming over beside me. "I'll leave you to it."

I twisted, taking my bracelet from between my teeth. Mike stood between me and the living room, half-gawking, and he was no longer wearing his wrinkled turquoise shirt.

I squeezed my toes together. "Vito?"

"Anne Maria!" He scampered across the kitchen like a baby… Well, baby anything. I was gonna go with puppy, but that's lame (Who would go with puppy when they could say 'baby rhino'?). Vito grasped me around the waist as I stood, hoisted me up, and twirled me in the air so fast that he lost his footing and fell against the counter. My foot clipped the edge. I laughed until he pulled me straight into a deep, perfect kiss that made watching Mike and Zoey's totally worth it, then finally plopped me back on the floor. We embraced. "'ey, I missed you so much, baby."

"Not half as much as I've missed you, sugar!" I kissed him again. "For you it's only been a few days, if I'm r'membrin' that correct and all. It's been a long month for me."

When I looked back, Zoey was leaning against the table, her arms folded around her stomach. She wrinkled her nose a bit as she watched us, but all she said was, "Hey, Vito."

"Pasty. You wanna sit down or somethin'? You look about to keel over dead, like usual."

There was a retort balanced on the end of her tongue. She shook her head instead of voicing it and grabbed her backpack from under her chair. All right. If she didn't want to step off her high pillar for me, I wouldn't let my good mood wash to waste on her.

"So." I spread my hands. "You've got two days all to yourself. What's the game plan, hon?"

"First, this." He lifted me by the waist again and kissed me hard. After a sweet little moment of that, furious and tongue-twisting (which Zoey stayed for), he held me out and stared contemplatively into the ceiling. "I want to eat noodles. I want to go outside. I want to see my car. And I want to sing. I didn't get to planning out anything more than that."

"And where's your girlfriend figure into this?"

"Oh yeah, of course I'll do those things with you by my side, babe." He started to come in for a fourth kiss. "As many things as you want."

I glanced sideways as Zoey's mother stepped into the kitchen behind her daughter, arms behind her back and her mouth etched in a line. Funny, really, how those two can act so alike and yet dress so different. I placed my finger to his lips. "Down, Romeo. Not in front of Zo-Zo."

Vito raised one eyebrow, then pulled me in for the smooch after all, and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. Around my flustered lips he managed to grunt, "Hit the road, Red. Mike punched out and I'm stayin' Topside all weekend."

Mrs. White gave Zoey a long sideways glance that I caught through one slitted eye. "Remind me: This is the boy you're head over heels for?"

Zoey looked away.

I finally untangled Vito's arms from around my waist and tapped his nose with my fingertip. "Later, babe. Let's wish them off before we get too crazy up in here."

He curled his lip.

"So you're Vito. I'm Eloise White." Mrs. White took Zoey by the elbow and nearly lifted her from the ground. "You're dating my daughter here, in case you didn't remember that."

"Mom, stop."

Vito didn't withdraw his hand from my waist. "Ayo, Mike's datin' your precious daughter. I'm interested in Anne Maria. Don't get us confused." He snapped his fingers. "That reminds me, Red. Lana wanted me ta let you know that you smooch 'like ze vhiskered valrus'. It was a compliment," he insisted, turning those curled lips outward in a pout when Zoey crossed both arms over her face and turned a slightly lighter shade of her hair.

"It was nice to meet you, Vito," Mrs. White said, snapping her fingers beside Zoey's ear. "We'll be on our way and out of your hair now. I imagine I'll see you next week. Give my kindly regards to dear, sweet Sydney. Don't let her set herself alight with those white firesticks."

"You'll see Mike next week, you mean," he muttered as the door mercifully swept shut behind them.

"That's that," said Sydney, coming back in from the garage. Her furrowed brow told me she didn't need to hear us relay Eloise's regards. She braced her hands against the counter near me and Vito and leaned back. "We've got this whole house all to ourselves, and no one can stop us from partying all weekend long. Excuse me if I bow out around ten o'clock. Old lady body, you know. You kids have fun without me. Oh- Before I forget to ask, Vito, don't you want to take a shower?" Vito looked confused, so she went on. "You haven't had one since yesterday."

"'ey lady, all I ever get to do these days is shower. It can wait." He turned on me, his searching eyes flicking all over my face. "That's not gonna bother you, is it? 'Cuz I totally can, it's not a big deal, just it means I won't get to see you for a few minutes, is all."

I twirled my finger around his necklace. "To be Frankie, I'd rather keep you for now."

"Works for me," he said through his next peck.

"Vite?" Sydney asked after he'd withdrawn. "What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?"

He stretched his arms high, tan muscles rippling. "Mm… Chicken wings."

I cringed. "For breakfast?"

He just shot me one of those honest grins where he squeezed his eyes shut and bumped one shoulder up in a tiny half-shrug and looked so stupidly adorable that all my giggles bubbled up at once. I felt like a complete idiot, but I didn't care because just for one sweet evening, I could pretend that everything was perfect.

"Chicken wings I can do. This weekend, you're the captain of the entire ship. What are you two up for first? I could put in a movie if you like. Are you hungry, Anne Maria?"

I shook my head, glancing up at Vito's deep brown eyes. "A movie sounds great, doll. Why don't you surprise us with something you like?"

"Sounds good." She pushed her black hair back up into a ponytail, then let it fall with a whispered sound. "Do you mind if I take a smoke break first? You two can let me know if you change your mind about the movie deal while I'm out."

"Sure thing, and thanks bunches, Mom." Vito flicked air quotations around the last part with his pinkys. Sydney maintained a completely straight face as she saluted back. I heard her burst into laughter once she slid the back door shut.

"Do you always call her that?"

He rubbed the bronze shark tooth that dangled from its cord around his neck. "Only when I want somethin'. Or she's actin' seriously pissed."

"Does that happen a lot?" I asked, snuggling myself into the crook of his arm.

"Mm… depends. Depends on a lotta things. Like, sometimes she's all goopy honey-sweet in the mornings, but when she's real hungover then that's always bad news. And if you see her eating ice cream, you wanna skit-scat before she catches you loitering around, 'cuz it means she's going through another break-up and she probably thought they had a good thing goin' for 'em. We've all kinda learned to leave 'em alone when they get out the drinks and put on the music, 'cuz there's no stopping them after that and you'll just regret coming Topside where you can hear 'em bumping the headboard of her bed against the wall. She used to lock us up when one green weasel in particular got loose. I usually ended up covering for him, 'cuz I'm easy to trigger so he'd just rip off the shirt whenever he realized it was fruitless to come to her 'rescue'. Like she wanted it."

I didn't have a response for that.

We passed about ten minutes on the couch just catching one another up on what we'd been doing since we'd left the island (Mostly it was me talking and him winding the single loose hair of my poof around his finger). "We don't really have to watch that movie," Vito murmured, sliding his other hand up behind my back. "You only get one weekend, and Sydney's not gonna mind her spit if we wanna spend it doin' somethin' a li'l more interesting. A bratty woodpecker up top says she told Mike and Zo that they could, though I wasn't there to see if they actually went through with the whole thing last week after her mom fell asleep on the couch with her laptop still running…"

I rubbed my eyes with one hand. "Not tonight, sugar. It was a long drive and I'm not really in the mood for anything too deep right now. I'm hardly staying awake as it is."

He put on his pouting face again, but before I could do more than bite my lip, Sydney returned from outside, tucking her cigarettes away in her pocket. "So you're still up for watching something?"

"I don't know about Vite, but I am." I rolled off the couch. "Just let me change first, and I want ta brush my teeth."

I took my backpack to the bathroom, popped out my contacts, and slid out my retainer. Then I rubbed my face down with my acne cream. After that came my purple nightgown and my red toothbrush (which had possibly been used by Scott two or three times, and maybe by Sam, but hopefully they were joking, and if not then I don't see why that's my problem). Loose purple-black curls were beginning to spring from my perfect poof, but the night would be wearing on and I decided not to bother with them any more than dabbing them with two licked fingertips. After a moment's hesitation, I decided not to wipe my make-up off. Not so long as I had Vito's attention for the evening.

Sydney was in the living room fiddling with the DVD player, but Vito stopped me from slipping in there by leaning his shoulder against the doorway, arms crossed. "Did I disappoint you the last time?" he asked, all soft-voiced and puppy-eyed. "C'mon, Anne Maria- what about that cool-aired, starry night back at the island?" He placed his hands against my waist and drew me closer for a kiss. "Just the two of us out rollin' about in the soft meadow behind the amphitheater where the grass was springy and wild, the stars glinting off those pretty bare, dark breasts of yours, when you held my cheeks as we kissed and I had my fingers all caught in the back of your hair, and we didn't care squatworthy if the cameras were watchin' us shiver and squirm? We did our little dance out there until three in the morning when the rains came on and chased us to the mess hall, and I helped you dress again and we drank hot chocolate 'til breakfast. Man alive, was Chef's face red when he got to us with that ladle." A sudden new thought occurred to him, and he straightened up and pulled his lips back, not bothering to wipe the thread of saliva away. "I didn't get you pregnant, did I, Maria? You said it wasn't your time that first night, and we were so quick down at the beach that day before you got eliminated, and you broke out protection that morning at the Playa when I snuck through the window into your room and we snuggled up and didn't leave to eat or anythin' 'til past two… Did I?"

I rubbed my stomach. "Not yet. But if Zoey keeps her tiptoe promise and allows us to still see each other no matter how serious she and Mike get, even if they're married… Would you ever want…?"

He touched his palm against my hand. "Maybe one. Someday, when we're ready, Maria. You with a real place of your own, not too far from wherever Mike decides to camp."

"I'd like that," I murmured back, pressing my lips to his. "A beautiful little boy, preferably, though I wouldn't entirely mind a sweet angel who wore flowers in her hair from the time she was two… You could teach her to rough up all the boys who came knocking after her pretty face and how to be a wildcat under the sheets who would keep them wrapped around her finger anyway. Our naughty little heartbreaker."

"Da. Zhen Svetlana could teach her ze triple pike backflipping. Zhat's how she gets ze boys."

I groaned and dragged myself to the present again. "How long have you been Svetlana? I din't e'en trigger you."

He (she) shrugged. "I vas curious. You did not disappoint- You kiss better zhan Zoey." She looked around, her eyes dimming. "Has Zoey gone off across ze Ontario lines again? Svetlana did not vish her good-bye or zhank her for ze cookies."

"Svetlana," I said, raising my voice so Sydney glanced back at us, "it's Vito's weekend."

"So?"

"Give him back!"

"But…" She looked genuinely confused as I untangled her hands from my waist. "I am not vanting to."

"Ms. Sydney, Svet won't give my boyfriend back!"

Svetlana stuck her tongue out and moved past me to fluff her hair in the bathroom mirror. "Svetlana may be Vito's twin, but she is not knowing vhat he sees in you."

I scratched my cheek. "You're… twins?" Vito had never mentioned they were twins before. I… would not have guessed it.

"Fight and flight, da. He is ze big charging bull and Svetlana is ze light darting sparrow." Leaning forward, she rubbed her teeth with the pad of her pointer finger. "Vhat did ve have for dinner? It is tasting like tacos and looking also like zhere vere fish involved in zhis."

"I wouldn't be the one tah ask," I said, studying her shirtless figure. Could I trigger Vito out if I covered her in my jacket and then ripped it off again? Before I could decide to try, the sound of footsteps snagged my attention. Checking back, I saw Sydney approach with a plastic cup of applesauce in hand.

"Here, Svetty baby," she said, reaching past me and offering it to her. Svetlana's shoulders relaxed. She took the spoon and licked each side before sticking it in the cup. I drummed my fingers against my elbows.

"Why don't you stay out a bit until you get your fill of fresh air, Lana? You don't mind, do you Anne Maria?"

The look in her brown eyes suggested I'd better not mind. "No problem," I said, letting go of my shoulders. "You up for a game, Svet?"

"Ah! We can be throwing dodgeballs as we climb ze ladder to ze tree house with ze flaming batons clenched between our lips! And front flip into ze kiddie pool and hit ze baseball vith a bat!"

"I meant something more along the lines of a card game. I brought Uno and Ziggity."

"Oh." She shrugged, scraping out the last of her applesauce. "Svetlana does not have much of an interest in ze games vith cards zhat you must hold."

So we went out to the driveway and played a little basketball as twilight wore on, and then she performed her latest gymnastics routine, and I showed her how to make balloon animals (I always kept a packet and a pump in my glovebox). My aunt had taught me how for the hotel patrons when I was nine, though that didn't mean I was the greatest at them yet. Then Svetlana nodded at me.

"I am done now. Please be letting Svetlana take zhis puppy balloon back to her room for ze safetykeep, and zhen she vill svitch out for you."

"That's very kind of ya to do, doll. Thanks."

She nodded and ran up the stairs, leaving me alone in the kitchen with Sydney and the goldfish. I sat down across from her, my bracelets clinking like rain on the cabin roofs back at Wawanakwa.

"You din't try tah switch her back. You just… let her alone."

Sydney shrugged. "They're all my kids. I know it's Vito's weekend, and I'm sorry to keep you waiting for him, but I just can't force them to back down if they don't want to go. It's not fair. Would you want to be locked in a closet all day without a chance to stretch or grab a snack? They're all their own people."

As I pulled out my phone, Zoey's face popped into my mind's eye. I think it was a lesson both of us still needed to learn.

I was just sweeping scattered pieces of popped latex into my hand when bright feet came darting down the stairs. "Annie Mary, is zhis your make-ups I vas finding in ze bathroom? Vould you help Svetlana paint her nails?"

"Er…"

It's not fair to force them. They need a chance to stretch.

I smiled as she hugged the clear zipper pouch of nail polishes to her chest. "I'd love tah, hon. Take a seat and pick a color ya like. I'll make you gorgeous."

She smiled at me with teeth, which I'd never once seen her do back at the Playa. Throwing herself on the couch, she stripped off her socks. "Zoey did not vant to do zhis vith me vith her paints, so I am glad zhat you vill."

"Of course."

I went to work on her feet. They were recently cut and long-scarred. We spent a bit talking about Vito and the upcoming Olympics, but it was only five minutes before I heard her gasp, and a jolt coursed through her whole body.

"Ayo!" Vito yanked his foot away and clutched it to his chest. "Are you paintin' my nails?"

I couldn't help myself. I cracked up. Wiping my eyes with one hand, I used the other to tuck my brush away. "Sorry, love. Svetlana wanted to play."

"You painted 'em electric green! Green!" He slammed his fist into a tan pillow and shook his head at the ceiling. "Maybe it's a good thing I won't have to look at 'em for another month, 'cept for showers. I ain't never gonna live this down at the club."

"Don't you go washing this off yet," I said with a wagging finger. "Your twin Svet was real excited about having 'em."

He tensed his shoulders. "Aw, she try ta getcha to buy that twin crap?"

"She… called you that, yeah. Somethin' wrong with that?"

I received a shrug in reply. "S'just not all true. Actually, if you wanna be super technical 'bout it, we're kinda Mike's kids." He thought about that, perhaps saw my raised eyebrows, and shook his head. "Nah, I guess not. He did make us older. He or Syd or Zo tell you anything about Spencer?"

"Doesn't ring any bells."

"Then it's story time," Vito said, leaning back. "Syd was married to this cop guy Kurt, and they got busy one night and this runt called Spencer popped up right 'round nine months later. Er… We were kinda his imaginary friends or some junk back then, and then as time went along, he started slippin' up a lot and we had a' jump up to take the controls when he did, just ta keep the meat suit alive. We were just colors back then," he said, his voice trailing a little softer. "We didn't even have sexes or nothin'- we were just 'it's, just thoughts with names he gave us when he felt like it. He called me Shirtless, 'cuz Kurt used to say, 'Get shirtless' when he wanted to hit 'im. Spence, I mean. Poor li'l Spence. He wasn't a great kid, but he din't do nothin' real bad either to anybody."

"… You took the hits for him, didn't you?"

"Some of 'em. We took our turns, paid our dues. We weren't no freeloaders. Used to be just Smitty and Spence and Mike, and after him it was Chester, but one day Mike told Spencer t'invent somebody who could protect him, and Svet and I were born on the same day. Well, she was kinda there the whole time, but she was almost dead and he sorta filled her back up with life, and I got what was left over. It's complicated, but 'ey. I don't make the rules. Spencer's gone now. He's as good as dead, even if he don't wanna be, and we'd all like ta fahgit about him. We got his bad memories, but thinkin' too much 'bout him makes us remember ours."

"So that's why Sydney said there were six of you," I said, glad to have solved the little mystery.

Vito hesitated. "Yeah. That's why. Well, never mind him. Mike used his javelin to knock Spence backwards into the canyon 'bout eleven years ago, and he ain't never climbin' out a' there. Not while we ain't in chains no more." Standing, humming, he took my hands and ran his thumbs several times over my dark knuckles. "I din't get ta tell ya earlier, but you're lookin' pretty as a dandelion in that nightgown, babe."

I arched one eyebrow. "Dandelions are weeds."

"Dandelions are the only flowers I know, except roses and I don't like 'em terrible. They bite." He put one finger in his mouth and sucked on the tip. The image of him plucking flowers straight from the bush was too much for me to resist, and a snicker sprang from my tongue. I lay my head against his chest and drew a sigh through my nostrils as I felt him breathe against my ear.

He kissed my forehead. "You wanna watch that movie of yours now, Maria?"

I did, so we went, and we fell asleep that way… bundled in a blanket speckled with snow leopard patches, with our heads leaning together, his arm around my shoulder, as Abbott and Costello made a valiant attempt to order a ham sandwich from twin waitresses who took turns flirting with either one.

In the morning, I woke up alone with the blanket missing entirely. I'd been hoping to find it tucked around me by his secret hands. "Vito?" I murmured, lifting my head. The living room lights were still off, but the ones in the kitchen were glowing and I could hear sizzling grease and taste the strips of bacon. Shaking myself loose from overturned pillows, grabbing my denim jacket, I went in to see. Sydney hovered around the microwave. Vito sat munching through a plate of eggs, one foot up on his chair, smothered in the snow leopard blanket from head to lap.

"Morning, Anne Maria," Sydney said, looking my way. "How was your sleep?"

"Nice and swell," I answered, dropping into the chair beside Vito after I'd planted a kiss on his cheek, and he choked on his fork. Rubbing the spot, he slung an arm over the back of his chair and whistled twice.

"Oo-whee, I weren't expectin' a lick outta you just yet, Maria. Ain't quite the one-lugnut sheila after all, eh?"

"Oh. Uh… Good morning, Manitoba. I thought you… had to be wearing your hat to come out Topside?"

He pulled the blanket tighter around his ears. "'ey, it was on my head. It counts." A smirk crept over his face. "Buuut… I might be willin' a' keep down again if we can split a li'l kiss."

"Manitoba," Sydney scolded, prompting an eyeroll from him. I tightened my lips in a smile.

"Pucker up, big boy."

As soon as his eyelids were pinched shut, I took hold of the blanket and yanked with all my might. Instantly alert again, Manitoba shoved his foot in my stomach and yanked back.

"Manitoba," Sydney said again as the microwave began to beep.

I leaned one hand against his shoulder and shook my head. "Zoey might be in the habit of playing those games with you, hon, but I don't often kiss my boy's brothers. Not while he's still in the house like this. So, off you go."

He put up a heroic struggle for another two minutes, but all it took was one little flip; as soon as the fabric was no longer touching his hair, he got all cross-eyed. Without their shirt on, it was child's play for Vito to elbow him into the linen closet and grab the wheel. He came up gasping.

"Good morning, sugar," I said, giving him not one kiss on the cheek, but two, 'cuz I was feeling it. "Was this delightful breakfast your idea, or Manny's?"

Vito wriggled his pinky around his ear and stood to shake out his leg. "Is that the spitter who jumped me last night? Geez… Ayo, Toby!" He slapped his chest with his fist twice. "Get with all them other girls you want, but keep your mitts off my Maria."

"Can he hear you when ya do that?" I asked, taking the plate of bacon from Sydney's hands.

"Nah, he can't. Just feels good ta pretend, y'know? Welp. Let's see. Oh, before it slips past me…" Vito pulled a small orange and white shaker down from a cupboard and cracked it open. "I gotta feed Mike's fish, or he'll kill me."

I stared into the tank, wondering if all the personalities felt the same way and if they sometimes switched out in the mornings and fed them twice without realizing the job had already been done by someone else. The black fish in particular could stand to lose some weight.

"Would you ever want a pet, Vito?" I asked, watching the sprinkles twirl through the water. Soft lips pinched the colored scraps and drew away.

Vito thought for a moment as he screwed the cap back on the canister and replaced it in the cupboard. "Yeah. I want a turtle. Have you ever seen a turtle before? They're so ugly that they're kinda cute, I think. I really wanna pick one up and lie down on my back and hold it above my head and just stare at its little kickin' legs all day."

"All day?"

"All day." He sat back down, grinning absently. "And I'd call him Speedy. It's funny, because turtles are so slow, y'know? It's the opposite. You wouldn't expect a turtle to be named Speedy."

"Oh, come on. You can give it a little more thought than that." I nudged his shoulder with my elbow. "You need something with a little more pizazz. Names are special, especially when you're pickin' one for you first pet. Maybe instead of focusing on 'Speedy', you could try thinking of somethin' else that's fast. Like a car. Which model of car goes the fastest?"

Vito's crossed eyes focused back in. "Sorry. I zoned out after you said pizzas."

I rolled my gaze to the ceiling and let it stay there a moment. "Pizazz, hon. You need a name that's a little more like… Ooh, I got the perfect one! How 'bout Indiana, after the Indy 500 race. What d'ya think about Indiana?"

He tipped his head first one way, then the other. "Nah. I like Speedy better."

"You're a simple man, Vite." I booped his nose. "Well, next month, I'll bring you a turtle. And you can name it whatever you want. That sweet by you, Ms. Syd? Of course I won't do it if it's not."

She shrugged and plucked out a cigarette from her pack. "You're welcome to it if it makes him happy. All I ask is that you pick a healthy one and bring along some sort of tank."

"I think I can manage that."

She went out to have her smoke, and after I'd polished off my bacon, Vito took my arm and drew me to the couch. "I gotta pee. Hang tight for a sec, baby, and then I want one of those soppy kisses right in the mouth."

As soon as he was gone, I whipped out my blue smartphone. Ooh, Zoey's Tumblr was on fire this morning. She'd started an argument with Cameron (Those seemed to crop up more and more these days). Dakota was backing her and Sam was trying to calm them both down, while Staci offered up her typical brand of helpfully useless commentary and Lightning tried to distract them with videos of himself shooting footballs at various moving objects and pretending that he couldn't tell they were upset, even though we all knew he could from the way he kept drawing in that tiny, anxious gasp before each of his "Sha-yeah"s when his eyes would dart sideways at the camera. My thumb hovered over the Block option.

Minutes passed. More of them. I lowered my phone. "Where is he now?" After rolling off the couch, I wandered over to the bathroom. I knew it wasn't locked - none of the doors had locks in case of anxiety attack emergencies - but I rapped with my knuckles anyway. "Babe?"

No reply, other than the sound of rushing water.

"Vito, are you still there? … 'kay, I'm comin' in."

"Wait, don't!"

Mike's voice. I shoved the door open and crossed my arms. The bathroom was colored bright blue, with random green dragonflies painted along the walls and dashes of grass lining the baseboards. Leaning over the brown sink counter, chewing on his lower lip was, to no one's surprise, Mike. He still had his shirt off, and Vito's necklace on. When I glanced in the sink, I realized his hands were sudsy and he'd scrubbed them red and raw.

Inwardly, I slapped myself in the forehead. Multiple times. "Sorry to wake you, love. Looks like V and I both forgot ya were OCD 'bout the cleanliness thing."

"It's fine. I feel a lot better now." He glanced at me, then at his bare chest, and started to scratch his arm. "Um, c-can I get my shirt back?"

"Mike, it's Vito's weekend."

His shoulders slumped. "I know. I'm trying to stay in my room, I really am. It's just…" He opened and closed his fists. "I don't like… not having… control."

"Sweetie-pot-pie, I love ya too, but I came up here to spend time with Vite. I won't get ta see him again 'til the end a' September, and I wanna enjoy our time while it lasts. Can ya summon him back for me? Sugary please?"

Mike shook his head. "Svetlana could, no problem. I don't know how she does it, but she just does. The rest of us have a harder time bringing anyone up without an actual trigger. I'll give it my best go, but I don't want to promise anything. But um, y-you could hold my hands. That might help."

So I placed my palms in his. Mike squeezed his eyes and tightened his jaw. His cheeks puffed up, then deflated. His hair stayed pointed up like tufts of weeds. "Sorry," he sighed, opening his eyes again and looking truly apologetic. "It's really hard to throw yourself off a cliff when you can see the rocky bottom all the way down there. You could slap me. Or pinch me. One of Vito's triggers is pain. It's not what it used to be from when… we… were a kid, but he'll still flip into control if it hurts badly enough."

"Stuff it. I ain't bruisin' ya for this. I got a better idea." I slid off my denim jacket and wrapped it over his shoulders. I held it clasped at Mike's neck for a moment as he twitched his feet, then whipped it off again. He gasped, and Vito was back. I guess he was shocked or something, because he staggered like he hadn't realized he should be standing. He blinked long, steady blinks before his eyes actually focused on my face.

"Ayo, somethin' happening down in Mrs. O'Leary's, babe?"

"No fire- we're all good." I took his wrists and leaned up on my tiptoes to kiss his nose. "You blanked on me for a minute there, doll, but I got you back. No worries."

Vito stared down at his red wrists, then up at me. Then he rolled his eyes. "Twerp always does this. He's got a problem."

"You want ta finish your breakfast?" I asked, tilting my head towards the kitchen. "I think Sydney's about finished with those chicken wings now."

He licked his teeth. "Breakfast sounds good. I didn't get any with Manny hogging the chair."

In the kitchen I opened the fridge so I could refill his orange juice glass, but Vito put out his hand to close it again, effectively pinning me into the corner. "Sorry, sweetcheeks. Around here we gotta pay a toll for that."

"Lemme guess." I pressed my lips into his, and he pressed back. We managed to keep that way for a good long while, before he slammed me to the wall and jerked away.

"Oh." I didn't even bother to keep the irritation out of my voice. "Good morning again, Mike. It's still Saturday, if you were wonderin'."

"Sorry. My fault. Sorry." He flapped his hands like he was trying to shake off a million bad thoughts at the same time. He probably was, being the innocent little angel that he is. Mike looked down at me and bit hard on his thumbnail. "I didn't mean to jump."

"Happens to everyone, love. No worries. But can I get V back now?"

He shivered. "Yeah, yeah. J-just… It's so difficult, you know? I feel like I'm drowning. He just lets his thoughts go everywhere and hit every possible little thing and… It's supposed to be my body again, a-and Vito and you… It just completely grosses me out, like that morning at the Playa. Sorry- that's mean and unfair. I'll be quiet now." Mike looked down at his forefingers, knitted them together, then looked up again. "Can I get some breakfast first?"

"If you can be quick about it, sure." I took the juice from the fridge. "What a'ya want, cereal or something? We've got chicken wings."

"Toast is good." He slid past me to open the bread drawer, paused, and pulled out a tan fedora.

"Is that Manitoba's?" I asked when I saw it.

Mike turned it over in his hands. "I guess. I wonder how long it's been here. I really like these kinds of hats. They look neat." He reached up to place it on his head, but I smacked it away the instant before the fabric could touch his hair. "Oh," he said as it landed on the tile. "Right. Sorry. I always forget about… why I don't wear these. I'll, um, I'll get my toast now."

He pushed down the bread and we waited. Me on my phone, he leaning against the counter with his arms folded and ankles crossed.

"I saw from your Tumblr that you went to the coast at the end of the summer," he said at last. "Was that nice?"

"Wasn't bad," I answered without looking up. I'd finally made it back to the beginning of Zoey's rant, and what I read made me narrow my eyes. Apparently, it was wrong of me to show up here after my one weekend with Vito had been 'cancelled'. There were plans, Zoey insisted. She had contacted me to exchange weekends. I'd known the situation and selfishly ignored it. Sure, that was it.

"Vito loves surfing at the beach. But it's a little far from here, so Mom got him a skateboard awhile back. It's not quite the same, but he likes it."

"He probably does."

It went quiet again. I searched my photos for a picture of Vito I could post just to taunt her, but I had none. Really, I thought, none at all? Not even the seagull one?

"This new diner called Mildred's Pizza and Deli just opened up not far from here. Well, it's sort of a café. I'm thinking I might see if I can get a job."

The toaster went off just as he finished, and he sprang several inches into the air. "Maybe you're not ready for the big league kitchens yet, hon," I said as he sheepishly retrieved his breakfast and went looking for the butter.

"We'll see. A lot can change in a year. I could be a totally different person by then."

I mulled over that as he ate, and when he was done and licking the crumbs and butter from his fingers, I braced my hands against the table and leaned forward. "All right, Mike. You've gotten your toast. It's time to go to sleep again."

"I still have to take my pills. And I'm the only one who knows how," he finished before my mouth was even halfway open. Coming around to my side of the kitchen, he pulled a bunch of colorful canisters from under the sink, all of them rolling around in a box that once held clementines. "Do you take all of those?" I asked as he took his seat again and picked up the first one.

"Most of them," he said, uncapping the yellow canister and pouring two pills into his hand. They went on his plate while he reached for the next. "Not all of them right now. This one's mine. The stuff in the orange bottle helps take the edge off Manitoba's anxiety- he doesn't like heights, though he won't tell you that. Purple is Svet's, and it needs to get refilled. Chester has sugar placebos for his imaginary arthritis, so if he shows up and asks then this is where they are. And the green's for-" He stopped himself, staring at the lid in his hand. His cheeks sucked in air. "Um… The green's just for general multiple personality disorder stuff. Antipsychotics, antidepressants, and those sorts of things."

I tapped my fingers as he took each pill individually in an agonizingly drawn-out manner. After a few minutes, Mike glared at me over the top of his glass. "What? It's not my fault I flipped Topside. If he would just stay focused on holding the door closed, I wouldn't be tempted to come out."

"Last one?" I asked, nodding at the final pill on the plate.

"Last one," he said with a sigh, and popped it in his mouth. After he swallowed, he looked mournfully across the kitchen at a stack of binders and textbooks topped by a giraffe-patterned notebook, accepted my jacket again, and tore it off over his head like before. Instantly, Vito gasped and rubbed his eyes. Then he blinked around. "What? Why am I over here?"

"Mike got hungry and wanted breakfast."

He groaned. "I'm sorry, Maria. Mike's a loser."

"But he's a good kind of loser. You love the doll, don't ya?"

"Love 'im like a spilled bucket of tar." Vito slammed his palms to the table and stood, chair legs squealing. His shark tooth swung on its cord. "I think I got an idea to solve this."

"I'll try anythin' at least one time," I murmured, following him as he snatched up Mike's turquoise shirt from the desk by the garage door and stormed into the living room.

"Here." After he'd flung himself on the floor beside the black coffee table, he tossed me the shirt and screwed up his eyes. "Force it on me."

"Vito-"

"Just do it. I gotta learn how to keep him in. Just do it slow. I'll try not to fight you off. I'll focus on him."

I shrugged. "All right, hon, if you're sure. Lift up."

Vito raised his arms, keeping his eyes closed. I bunched up the shirt into a thin line and eased it over his hands, all the way down his arms to his head. Then over his chest. His breathing began to go a little faster. His fists flew down to grip the carpet. His toes curled in. "Stop," he said, then almost immediately followed it with, "No, sorry. No. I'm solid. Go on, baby."

I tugged the folds of the shirt down a little lower. Vito flinched like he'd been shot by a tank, then grabbed the hem and yanked it all the way off again.

"Nah, sorry. That's it. That's all I can handle right now. He's so pissed off." He rubbed his face with both hands. "I'm real sorry, Maria. I gotta go to Mike's room."

"Vito," I tried again, but he shook his head and broke for the stairs in a sprint. By the time I made it to the bottom, he was gone, and Sydney was pressed against the wall as though she'd flattened herself to let him pass. "Is he all right?" I asked.

She glanced upwards, her tongue massaging the inside of her cheek like Vito's had touched mine the night before. We both listened to a rapid burst of Italian, followed by a slam of a flat palm against the wall. "This isn't unusual for him. He just needs a minute to cool off after you were so close to triggering Mike with that shirt. He's trying to talk with him now; he forgets that Mike can't hear him, but it doesn't stop him from… thinking there's someone to relay a message. Other than that, how has your weekend been so far?"

"I like it. It's so good seein' Vito again, knowing he's all for me and not having ta fight with Zo every second like we did back at the Playa. Or Stace, for that matter. Only…" I drummed my nails against the rail beside the stairs, then finally released the sigh. "I really don't like to sound complainy, but Mike's been croppin' up in the middle a' things every other minute, and it's really getting under my skin."

She smiled. "He can't help himself. Mike has absolutely no willpower when it comes to resisting temptation. Nor is he good with sharing, and he's still trying to adjust to staying down by choice because he's never had to choose before. He's used to snatching the opportunity to take control whenever it's presented him. Taking regular turns is new for him and V both, but one of these days they'll get settled in. You just have to be patient."

I withdrew my bottle of spray-on tan and put a bit on my fingers to rub a spot on my wrist that was starting to fade. "Did that bother you, hon? That I was trying to help him stay Vito even with his shirt on?"

Sydney chuckled and massaged her hand up and down the handrail. "Oh, once it would have made me furious that anyone was trying to keep my Mikey away from me. But over the past nine months, I've remembered that all five of them are my children, not really counting Chester. I love Vito as much as I love any of the others, and if you're making him happy, then it makes me happy too. I pray every night that this… 'double-date' system, for lack of a better term, will work out for you children somehow. I think it will, if all of you want it hard enough." She nodded in the direction of Mike's bedroom, where Vito was still spouting off. "It's just interesting to watch. Zoey does the exact reverse with Mike, trying to help him learn to keep Vito in."

… That irked me.

"Wait." I did the math then on my fingers. My boyfriend, Captain Pop-Up Book, the backflip baroness, and our friendly neighborhood fedora-tipping narcissist who had the hate-that-I-love-you-mental-breakdown crush on Dawn… Without Chester, that was only four. "Five?" Did she mean Spencer still, after all this time?

Sydney pretended not to hear me. As she ducked out for another smoke, I marched back to the kitchen, grabbed my phone, and rattled off, Just FYI, I've been helping V learn to stay out even with his shirt on & I don't care if that bothers you bc Syd said you make M do the same thing. Send.

Zoey's reply was almost instantaneous. You can't do that Anne Maria. It's not fair to Mike.

No doll, you guys can't do that to Vito. You can't try to stomp his trigger out like that.

My phone made the dots that said Zoey was starting on her response, but they went away. No message came through. I slammed my phone down on the counter and put back my head. After a couple minutes of this, I found my backpack where I'd left it in the bathroom and yanked out my math homework. He might be up there a while, and I could at the very least get started. Returning to the couch, I made it through nine problems before I heard the snapping voices. Feet shuffled down the stairs. When I glanced up, Vito (maybe Mike? He had his shirt) was clawing at the door handle.

"Granddad, honestly-"

"Dang it, Sydney! I won't just sit around on a day like today! There's work that could be done."

"It's Saturday. Vito's Saturday."

"Well, tell Saturday that I welcome it. The corner store doesn't close just because it's a filthy, stinkin' Saturday!" He finally got the lock undone. "Chatter off the grocery list if you have to, but I'm going. My family needs me to provide-"

She grabbed his shoulder and yanked him backwards before he could step across the porch. He whirled around, one hand pressed to his back. "That's it, young lady! Go to your room!"

"Go to yours! I am your mother!"

They both stood there, fuming horribly and pointing in opposite directions. I shrunk down in the couch cushions, pretending to be very interested in my homework. At last, Chester snorted and stomped off for the kitchen. Sydney sat down beside me and lay her head in her hands.

"Sorry," she muttered to me. "I don't even want to think about how awkward this must be for you."

"It is a titch, yeah." I lifted my eyebrows and threw a laugh into my voice. "You just called my boyfriend 'Granddad', love."

"Mm. My grandfather died when… he was three and a half. Broke his little heart more than I even realized at the time. No surprise; they were so close, even at that age…"

"Are they, er, all based off real people?"

"No. Just Chester. And…" She hesitated. "Svetlana."

I squirmed my hands between my knees. "Sydney? Does… Do they have an uncle named Vinnie, like Vito always talks about, about the body shop back in Italy?"

She shook her head and got up to check on Chester. I finished up the last six problems of my algebra, changed from my nightgown into my regular clothes, and then waited a little longer until Chester's cranky complaints died away. Vito came into the living room, rubbing his shoulder, a grimace painted over every swell and crevice of his face.

"Erm, hey, Maria."

I tucked my phone away in my pocket. "Hey. Feeling like yourself again?"

He sat beside me and swallowed. "Sorry I lost my temper. I shouldn't get mad at Mike for jumpin' like that. It's not all his fault, just most of it. I just- I just- I just wanna make this weekend enjoyable for you, baby, so you'll come back. I don't want you to think it won't work and leave me forever. We can make it work."

"I know we will. We just all have to learn to get along."

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and I took a thin breath and let him stay when he leaned his cheek against my poof. "Yeah. I know that. Don't think I don't. I try, y'know?"

"Would a li'l lovin' make you feel better?"

Vito nodded, still trying to brush the flushed pink out of his cheeks, so I covered those cheeks with my hands. After the first time we came up for air, I released him so I could scratch the back of my neck. "Vito, do you ever jump out Topside when Mike's kissing Zoey?"

"Sure." He shrugged, reaching for my waist again. "All the time. They're both such awkward babies, I just gotta help them along until they get it right."

… Why did that sound so innocent?

I placed my hand against his breathing muscled chest and scooted nearer on the couch. He slit his eyes and tilted his head. The touch of his lips was warm, and still smelled more of bacon than toast as he eased me onto my back and leaned forward like a canopy. I tugged him after me as he tipped me over, our bare stomachs brushing, all our fingers intertwined. Without letting go, I linked one of my legs around the back of his. That brought him in deeper, shivering against me so I too trembled, and he murmured my full name so I heard it in my own mouth rather than through the air that curled through my ear canals. Then Vito pulled his tongue away, blinking towards the kitchen. "I really need to get started on that chemistry project."

"Really Mike, again? It was real cute at first, but now it's just downright irritating."

His abdomen pulled in a little like his stomach was doing a literal flip. "Sorry! He keeps wondering how much time he has left and it's stressing both of us out."

"Work on it later babe, okay? That's what the school bus is for."

"But it needs to be typed or I lose ten points, and I can't afford any more slip-ups. Manitoba hates sitting in school and he's made us skip so many times already. Last time, Svet wrote us a note that said 'Please be excusing Mike from class this morning, much loving, Mike's mom'." He stood. "I have my book open to the right page and my vocab sheets out, I'll just-"

I snagged him back by the elbow before he could go far. He looked at me, blank-faced. Then he drank in the tilt of my head, the coaxing finger, and his eyebrows went up.

"Oh, no," he said, trying to pull away. "No, Anne Maria- no, don't! Please, don't! There's an easier way! Go get the jacket!"

Mike couldn't get me to drop his arm, so I yanked him back to the couch. Our skin slapped. With my left hand tight around his lower back, my right set behind his neck with thumb and forefinger up, both legs intertwined, he wouldn't be getting anywhere too fast. He wriggled against me nonetheless as I leaned his head close and dragged him through a deeper kiss than the one at the fridge. At first he was uncertain, tasting my unfamiliar lips and hovering over them like a zoo wolf at an unlatched and swinging gate. We spoke with our dark eyes and brushing lashes- a promise never to speak of this to Zoey. My weekend. My boyfriend. Those were the rules he'd agreed to when I'd arrived.

Then a shudder ran along his spine, and Mike closed his eyes and tucked in his arms and allowed himself to melt into me. His anxious eyebrows lost their peak and simply floated upwards until they were lost in the brown spikes of his hair. His legs lost their springy tension. I was of course by no means his first kiss, and he knew his way around my mouth with his tongue well enough, whatever Vito said. His stomach slid with sweat, almost squeaking against mine. There was no honest passion in his gentle movements, even when I eased up and let him take the lead. When he pressed deeper with his lips and knee, I might have heard him breathe out Zoey's name. After about a minute and forty-five seconds of rubbing my thumb in circles behind his left ear, our teeth clicking and noses bumping, belt buckles catching together, my eyelids sore from forcing myself to keep them shut and not look at him, then his hair prickled down and he was Vito again. He peeled me away, shaking his head.

"'ey, who turned out the lights? Thought I saw gold. Was it freakin' Mike again?"

"For a quick flash, yes."

He lowered his head, drumming his fingers along my waist. "I'm sorry."

I propped myself up on my elbow. "I don't mind putting up with him, Vito. It's not a big deal so long as you promise you'll always come back when I get him down."

"Mmph," he said into my shoulder. I plucked my fingers through his hair.

"Maybe you should stop worrying about making things perfect and just chill, doll. It seems like he's triggering every time you get anxious. He slips back under when he's calm again."

"I'll try, but…" He clenched a fistful of my shirt. "There's just so much stuff I wanna show you, and I just don't have the time. And then it's another month of showers before you come back, and even then we'll only have two more days together, and I hate that it's gotta be this way. It just ain't fair. Mike gets to have his time with stupid Zoey, who's so pale and scrawny she looks like she could drop dead any second, and… It just ain't fair ta you, Maria. What kind a' relationship is this, where I can only see you one day in thirty? That's not fair any at all. Not for me, and not for you. Mike's just so selfish and greedy with Zoey- that's the real reason why he's yellow, you know, not just the golden boy thing, and he just really crams a stick up my-"

"Deep breaths, V. You're flickering again, and the last person I wanna end up locking my lips to is your granddaddy."

His chest swelled, then relaxed. Swelled, then relaxed. I stroked his hair until he steadied out again in my arms.

"Hon, if it bothers you, maybe you oughta try workin' something out with Mike. Strike up a deal that he lets you use the webcam for just a couple minutes in the evening. Work out a time, and both of ya stick to it so you can learn ta trust each other. Say, 8:15 to 9:00, or whatever, and that's Vito's time every night."

He blinked. "What's a webcam?"

I glanced towards the computer desk, the end just visible in the kitchen from where I sat. Oh.

"Or you could send me e-mails every night or so. Whatever works for you, doll. Like I told Syd the other day, I'm pretty chillax."

"… What's a e-mail?"

"You could shoot me texts?" I tried again. "Y'know, usin' a phone?"

His gaze slid off to stare out the window. I tilted my head, then had a new thought.

"Here sugarcube, let me show you how it works." I drew my phone out and, pushing him back so I could sit up, put my arm around his shoulders. "Smile, babe. Say cheese."

"… Cheese?"

I snapped the selfie, then turned my phone towards him so he could see the result. He lit up in an instant. "Ayo, that's me!"

"I'll text it to Mike's, and you can text me back whenever ya feel like it. Whenever you get lonely, just know I'm always a few words away. Okay, babe?"

He pulled my phone from my hand and cradled it for a moment, just grinning a stupid little grin and tapping at his own face. Even including what would happen the following day, that was the only part of the weekend for me that pierced my heart in pieces, when I realized that he honestly didn't understand what a camera was until that moment. I guess no one ever thought to tell him.

While he was occupied with that, I got up to hunt down Mike's phone. It had a yellow case with a simple cartoon giraffe face on it, and I found it in the kitchen by the coffee grinder. Being a Blackburn, I was second in his contacts list, right after Cody Anderson. Huh- The jerk hadn't even bothered to spell my name right. Betcha the moon Vito would have spelled it right.

Deciding I would wait for the day when Mike actually cared to fix it for himself, even if it took from now until the rest of time, I didn't bother to add the 'E' on the end and instead typed out a quick, Hello Vito and sent it through.

From the living room, Vito screamed. I heard my phone smack against the wall. "How d'ya know my name? Ayo, Manny was right! Witchcraft is a thing after all!"

Oops.

I started to go back, the half-sarcastic reassurance already on my parted lips, but Vito came barreling into the kitchen, snatched the laptop and chemistry book from the table, and sprinted out the back door almost before he slid it open. "Oh, that ain't happenin' on my watch pum'kin seed," I snarled, and shot after him in my bare feet. "Michael Dunn, you bring me your scrawny booty right now!"

"Haha, not on your sweet life, Anne-M! Sucker! That 100 is as good as mine!"

He disappeared around the corner of the house, heading for the front yard. I stopped running. Now, if he were smart, he'd go in through the porch door and barricade himself up in the bathroom or in the garage or something. But, well, this is Mike we're talking about, and Mike ain't the sharpest chip in the breadbasket. I turned around and walked back to the opposite corner of the house.

Five seconds later, Mike tore into the backyard again, craning his neck over his shoulder to check if I was still in hot pursuit. He ran straight into my arms, and I trapped him in a hug. Flipping him over my shoulder as best as I could manage (which, to be totally truthful, wasn't wonderfully), I staggered back inside with him kicking and yelling and smacking my side with his chemistry book. Sydney came down to see what all the fuss was, her right hand twitching like she wanted to slap him across the face. I had the sinking feeling that she would have done exactly that if I hadn't been around to watch.

But between the two of us, we eventually got him calmed down again. I whipped up a sloppy cheese sandwich while Sydney pried the laptop from his fingers and told him that this was just what he deserved for procrastinating all week with Zoey around, and that maybe now he'd learned his lesson about time management and could do better in the future. Mike nibbled his sandwich like a chipmunk, unwilling to lift his eyes from the table, and he flipped back to Vito before he even got halfway through. Vito of course refused the sandwich and got up to rummage around for loose chicken wings instead. I shrugged and took the rest of it for myself. Hey, no big deal; it wasn't like Mike's saliva hadn't just been on my tongue in the other room.

… Yeah, I shouldn't have put that into words.

I examined my phone as I licked cooling blobs of cheese from my fingers. The screen had cracked down the center. It struggled to scroll because my thumb kept catching on the gash. But it wasn't a big deal; I'd put up with it being damaged before, and I'd manage again 'til I could get it replaced.

Vito peered over my shoulder, rubbing his shark tooth with his thumb. "I'm sorry I threw it."

"It's okay, love. I should have realized you didn't understand technology."

He shrugged and rocked on his heels as I scrolled through my contacts list. "How's it s'posed to work?"

"You've really never used a phone, doll?"

"Not this kind. And it's always the girls that call me, not me calling them. I just know that when I give 'em some numbers, I get to hear their voice again."

I walked him through a few basic steps, then excused myself to use the bathroom. When I came back, Vito was chatting with Sydney on the back porch, and I couldn't find my phone at all. I didn't see it in his hands or his pockets. It wasn't resting by the sink. It hadn't been left in the bathroom. It wasn't hidden in my backpack. It wasn't anywhere. Finally, I took the landline and gave it a call. To my surprise, it lay on the desk right in front of me. Except… it had been wrapped up in white strips of gauze like a mummy and buried under a blue ice pack.

Oh, Vito. I don't know why I ever wondered how such a simple, brick-dumb boy could have stolen my heart. I just held the bandaged thing for a minute, my shoulders jerking every few seconds with something like a sob and something like a giggle. Zoey could have her awkward dork. I'd keep mine any day.

I joined them out back with the two phones and taught them both how to text, until after half an hour of giggles, Sydney held her nose and begged Vito to take a bath. He grabbed Mike's phone and bounded off with a groan and a kiss, so I went in for lunch. I was just pulling the Honeycomb out again when my phone vibrated against the counter. Dreading Zoey again, I swallowed what was in my throat and forced my trembling fingers to check.

Hi maria im upstairs

I typed back, Yes you are. as I let my breath escape.

I can talk to you from all the way up here

Sure can. And even when I go home to Maybrush I'll still get your messages.

Nice but i like it beter when i can here your voys call me

Or you could just come downstairs you goof.

Cant im takin shower now

Don't send pics or my aunt will bury me alive. I didn't fully process the situation for a few seconds, and then I grabbed my phone again. Don't get M's phone wet or you could break it.

Oops sorry. Then, I dried it its okay now see you when im done. A few seconds later he added, Love you, and then I heard him belt out the lyrics to "Surfing USA". I poured myself a bowl of cereal as I hummed along.

My phone signaled another message. I picked it up, fully expecting Vito to have sent me shower pictures anyway. Instead it was from Zoey. It said, flat-out, Mike doesn't ruin Vito's life the way V ruins his with his negligent habits and addictions. If one of them deserves to control w/o their trigger, Mike does.

"We're waxin' down our surfboards, can't wait 'til June… Tell the teacher we're surfin'. Surfin' USA."

My fingers twitched. I fired back, Mike's life? Its both their lives! Their equal! If this is a matter of who owns the bod then neither one of them should. Didn't Syd tell you about Spencer?

Spencer's dead. He left them his crown. Mike's worn it ever since G Chef Auto. There4 he is dominant. If they get their head hit again / fight it out / Vito manages to steal the crown from him, then I will totally back you all the way; you should have him whenever then and I'll be the one who only gets to see my bf one w/e a month. That would only be fair. But until then it's Mike's crown, Mike's life. He is dominant, he should control, and it's not your place to make things more difficult for him. Hasn't he had to put up with enough crap without your help?

I started to type one thing, then erased it. I did that four times. Finally, The crown is a metaphor Red. There is no taking turns as alpha bc there is no alpha position. They were split in = pieces. Matter can't be created or destroyed. They are still =. They will always still be =.

"If everybody had an ocean, across the USA, then everybody'd be surfin', like California…"

They don't seem to think it's a metaphor, read Zoey's next text.

Cam said subspace aint real and their delusional bc its a coping mechism.

Cam doesn't know everything.

Maybe you don't know everything. Your so infatuated with the M parts that you don't even want to take the time getting to know the other sides of him. The world aint so black/white. V is as much his own person as M is his.

Zoey said, *You're.

Three minutes later, she sent me an enormous paragraph outlining every one of Vito's flaws. I didn't read it. Instead, I sent her one of the selfies of him kissing my forehead on the back porch while we hugged each other so hard, neither of us was breathing right. Her response was, You look happy. I'm glad.

I left it at that.

Vito's singing trickled off. By the time I was rinsing out my cereal bowl, he came thumping down the stairs in checkered blue and white pajama pants, still tapping at Mike's phone. Something came through on mine, and he looked up at me and grinned.

"What did you do?" I asked, pulling open the dishwasher.

"You'll have to read it, tanny-heart. It's gotta be written. It doesn't work if I say it out loud."

I rolled my eyes and picked up another plate. "Then I guess I'll save it for later, and you might have ta wait a long time if you want ta see my reaction. You wanna help me do the dishes, sugarcube? Sydney's so busy, it's the least I can do as thanks for lettin' me stay here."

When I glanced at him again, he had his back to the wall, his arms around his chest and an unsteady look in his eyes. "Sorry, love to help you out, but can't," he said. "Mike'll trigger if I come too close. He's trying to claw his way up now, actually."

"Why does he want out so bad?" Switching off the water, I came over to wrap him in a hug. "Are you feeling stressed again? I told ya, babe, just relax."

He shook his head. "Don't worry 'bout me, Maria. I'm a junebug. Mike just likes to clean stuff. He feels safer when it's clean 'cuz he thinks he won't get yelled at. I really don't know why he ever bothered, though. We always got yelled at."

"Do you want to go back out to the living room 'til I'm done, hon? Or I can stop, if that makes it better."

He shook his head. "As long as I don't let my guard down, I'm fine. You're makin' him happy, anyway. He feels real guilty he ain't helpin' you, but he's starting to calm down with every dish you put up." A devilish smirk curled over his face. "And 'sides that, I'm enjoyin' the view."

I flipped my hair and struck a pose for him. That was how it went. Always just when we were getting to the heart-thrumming thick of things, Mike would spring up with a yelp and pull one of those 'Monkey see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil' poses, backing away as he stared at me until he ran into some wall or chair or potted plant or - once - a giant plush shark. Then I'd have to coax him to let go of reality one way or the other, more often than not by chasing him around the house banging doors and picking locks until he surrendered and fell calm, but one time we played Uno and I managed to stuff a shirt over his head and tear it back off as he kicked and hollered for Sydney, who had sworn off interference after the second long talk the two of them had had.

Yeah, of course I felt guilty sometimes for forcing him under when he stared up at me with those deep brown eyes like Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. We're all suckers for puppy eyes deep down behind the barred doors of our shriveled black hearts. But the shoulder devil leaning against my ear kept pointing out that Zoey could have twenty-nine days with her boyfriend if she really wanted to make it work, and I was allowed only one. So I gritted my teeth and pulled every dirty trick to swap him out for Vito. I could do it so long as I looked away from his scrunched eyebrows.

Dinner was spaghetti blanketed over chicken and dunked in soft red sauce. As I brushed my teeth that night, I glanced at my phone to find the text Vito had sent me from the stairs. I'd forgotten about it until then.

A

Nice

Nayber

Even when

Mike

Arrives

Randimly

I love you

Always

He'd spelled my name right. Even though I hadn't fixed it on Mike's phone, he'd still remembered it had an E.

I wanted to send him an acrostic of his own, but I couldn't think of a lot of words that began with V, except for 'vacuum' and 'vomit'. Since the best response I could scrape together after five minutes was 'Very Interested Together Olways', I gave up.

Back in the living room, Vito got down to his knees and picked the night's movie carefully, shuffling through the cupboard and saying, "This one will trigger Lana and this one'll bring up Manny," until he finally found a black and white gangster video of some sort that I missed the title of and he couldn't remember.

I cuddled in his lap as we watched, but we both started getting fidgety midway through, so we paused and went for snacks- intending to come back, except in mutual agreement that we wouldn't. Partially because we then discovered an enormous collection of bubble blowers behind the Halloween candy in the pantry, and that alone kept us entertained for half an hour. I had a lovely rest of the night, and we were only interrupted once when Manitoba decided he'd had enough of sitting on the sidelines and lurched up to say hi in person again. On a completely unrelated sidenote, he plays a vicious game of Clue for someone who struggles to read.

We were still tangled up when the hall clock chimed three in the morning, and against the sight of him with his head lying along my shoulder, blinking slow and content dark blinks, I forced myself to call it quits. Vito knelt beside me the whole four minutes I took to say my little prayers, then pulled the quilt up to my shoulders when I climbed onto the couch. He said, "I hope y'had a good weekend so far."

"Mmhm. I enjoyed every second with you."

"Sorry 'bout Manny."

"No sweat, sugar. I figured he'd show up for a little fun sooner or later."

He grumbled, "Don't see why he couldn't've waited 'til we weren't busy doing our thing."

"At least he was polite." I kissed my fingertips and placed them against Vito's elbow. They slid down and intertwined with his as he pulled away.

"I might be Mike in the morning," he said. "I'll keep my shirt off, so maybe I won't be. But he's dominant, so he dreams, and there's no way to really know. Just depends. And if I am…" He shrugged. "Well, you know."

"Love you too, babe."

He marched off, flushing bright enough that I could see it in the dark. I was left alone with my thoughts. If Zoey had stayed the night, would she and Mike have passed the weekend in the same way? Would Vito have leapt up to steal her kisses? Would Svetlana have gotten to have her painted toenails? What would her mom say if she'd been there when Chester had come storming down the stairs, ordering Sydney to her room?

My phone rattled. Groggily, I picked it up and checked my messages.

I'm sorry, Zoey said.

Another bubble popped up. What I said today was immature.

I put down my phone without responding. I'd won, but I didn't feel much happier.

Maybe my argument with her was the reason I couldn't sleep. Maybe it wasn't. For about an hour I tossed and turned, twisting my blanket so tight that I cocooned myself and fell off the couch. After inchworming out of it, I went into the kitchen for a drink. Mike's chemistry book was still on the table with his vocabulary packet and essay prompt. I thumbed through a few pages. Oh, no problem. He was working on valence electrons. I turned on some David Bowie, drew the laptop onto my knees, and started to type.

When I was done forty-five minutes later, I clicked Print. I couldn't find any staplers around, but I did snoop out one of Svetlana's ribbons in the bathroom. Bows were my specialty, so I figured I may as well make this pretty as I tied it up. There were green stickynotes by the calendar. I ripped one from the pad, scribbled Thanks for trying so hard doll - You rock! :) - AM, and left it and the report on the table with his vocabulary list. Somehow, it was easier to sleep after that was done.

Vito shook me awake in the morning. I groaned and plopped my face back into my pillow. "What time is it?"

"Half hour to sunrise. Does it matter?" He started tickling my feet, which probably would have been more effective if I'd been in a perkier mood. "Ayo. C'mon, peaches. Manitoba told me a shortcut to this hidden place up the mountain to make up for his jumping me last night. If we leave now, we'll get there just when the sun paints the whole valley in pink and purple as it comes up behind us."

"That sounds cliché," I mumbled back without getting up. "I don't wanna go. I can Google a sunrise. You can go and text me a pic of the sunrise. It's still a flipping sunrise."

Vito scooped me into his arms and carried me into the kitchen and out into the garage. Since he was obviously so excited about it, I let him. Besides, heroic knight toting you around bridal style as you rub the sleep from your eyes, I mean, why would you not?

The lights flicked on and the garage door rumbled open. Through my yawn I said, "Vito, I'm functioning on about half an hour of sleep right now. I'm not sure I'm up for this."

"Then let me drive." He winked as he cleared the four steps down in a single jump. "My treat, doll."

Sydney's car turned out to be a green sedan with smeared windows, a crooked fender, and mud caked in the wheels, but when I looked up into his face, I could tell he loved that little car like it was his a dream come true. Vito set me on my feet beside the passenger door and I said, "I don't suppose you've gotten a license since July?"

He stuck his right fist on his hip and splayed his left fingers against his chest. "Nope, and that's all Mike's fault, but I'm a born expert. We'll just dart up the canyon and down again. Leave you a great parting memory before you leave me for a month. You really gotta see Auburn County from up there- Manny says it's really somethin' special, and he doesn't even like bein' up too high."

At first I was uneasy. I mean, boy with multiple personalities who's never taken driver's ed: Hello, this was clearly going to go so wrong. But Vito was right. Driving turned out to be as instinctive for him as throwing a punch. He adjusted the mirrors to his level, watched over his shoulder as he backed into the cul-de-sac, dimmed the brights when another car approached us, checked his blind spots as he shifted lanes on the freeway, always remembered to flip his blinkers on and off, didn't speed over the limit enough to get us noticed by the cops, and did all this with just one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my knuckles. We sang along to Bertles songs and Taylie Swift from the mix disc that Zoey had apparently left in there. Finally, he pulled the car to a stop in a thin strip of parking lot somewhere halfway up the peak.

"See? Wasn't that worth coming up here for?"

"I'd rather be sleeping," I grunted, pushing back a fluff of curls. I felt in my pockets for my hairspray. I found none. I must have left it in the kitchen beside the laptop.

Vito laughed and put his arm around my shoulders. Turning me around so my back was to the cliff, he held out Mike's smartphone. "Say cheesie."

I put my fingers to my temples, then took them away again and placed my hand against his chest. "All right, all right, you've won me over, sugar. Cheesie."

He brought the phone back and looked at it for a moment, puzzled. Then he gave it to me. "Ayo. I don't think it's working."

Through my yawn, I exited the Messages app and brought it back to Camera. Apparently, Vito still had a long way to go before he grasped the concept. We snapped another selfie, and a few more, and by that point I was getting really anxious about standing so near the lip of the cliff, so I dragged him to the car again. He popped open the trunk and tossed me a bag of grapes and an apple juicebox. We sat together on the car's roof, eating our little picnic breakfast and cock-a-doodling at hawks and making up stories about the lives of the little people moving like ants down in the city. We took a short walk along the hiking trail. Vito found a dead sparrow and plucked its feathers as we walked, weaving them into a sort of crown for me with tree sap and grass and flower stems. It's… it's the thought that counts, and that's all I'm saying here.

When it was maybe about eight, we loaded back in the sedan. "Well," Vito said, turning the key.

"Well," I said, turning up the music. "Thanks for wanting to spend your one August weekend with me."

"Thanks for making the effort to come up. Is it real far from here to your house?"

"A whole seven hours, so I think I'll snag a quick nap at your place before I get behind the wheel. But it's worth if for you, doll, 'specially since I only have to make the trip once a month."

He pursed his lips a little as he nodded, not taking his eyes off the road as we eased down the canyon. I wondered if time meant much of anything to someone who might black out after breakfast one minute and in an instant wake up again on his way home from school, or what have you. He'd probably never been on a long drive in his life.

I took out my phone, scrolled past the videos of B and his robots, and stopped short when I ran across messages from Cameron without any context on the other side. "Zoey deleted all those angry posts on her Tumblr."

"What's a Tumblr?"

"Just this… This message thing we all use to stay connected. Us from the island. We talk about our lives and share pictures and memes and stuff. Never mind." I put my fingertips to my forehead as we bounced down the main roads and Vito pointed us towards the freeway. "It's just… It stings a li'l, y'know? She's always talking 'bout Mike. Mike this, Mike that. That's what most of her blog is, except for sewing stuff and homemade recipes and crafts and comforting advice she gives to everyone but me."

He glanced sideways as we paused at a stop light. "Yeah, but she ain't the one who got to have this hot potato last night."

"That's true," I admitted, patting his hand. "It just hurts some, doll. She loves her Mike, and she claims it's okay by her if I have you, but then she goes on these rants behind my back and says these things, and she doesn't even have the courage ta keep 'em up for everyone to see."

For a few minutes more I bristled, and then as he revved it up the freeway ramp, I couldn't keep my lip bitten anymore. I kneed the dashboard. "If either of us are the two-timin' whore, it's her! She ain't so pure and clean or whatever! Last night, Manitoba told me all about what he's done to her in the past, and how she likes it 'cuz she thinks his accent's cute and he tells her Mike won't find out. But when it's me, who turns him down and keeps my hands off her precious Mike, does anyone care? Not a stinkin' fleck! They don't even believe me! And Staci goes spreading lies, and all of a sudden she and Zoey and Dakota have everyone against me and I'm the one who's been around the block with three or four of ya. I'm the one who showed up uninvited when I supposedly knew we'd swapped weekends. I don't remember being given a message like that! I'm the one who tried to steal her man on the show, despite the fact that I kissed you well before she hooked up with Mike. But I get to be the one who takes the fans' fire. I'm the intruder, I'm the liar, I'm the double-timer, I'm the homewrecker, I'm fake and shallow and I just can't stand her when she starts acting like a total snobby bi-"

"Whoa!" Vito jolted his hands from the wheel. The car slowed from 70 to 50. "Babe?" I yelled, and with a gasp he slammed his heel on the brakes. A squeal of tires. We swerved left across two lanes of traffic, clipping a silver Prius on the back bumper. I grabbed his arm, my nails sinking so deep in his skin I touched blood. Half a second later, we plowed into the guard rail. Air bags exploded. My head smacked against the back of the seat.

Vito slid his trembling hands over his face and started to shatter. "I didn't know! I didn't know!"

"Mike?"

The tears dripped down his nose as he started to rock forward and back in his seat. "Y-you were saying bad things about Z-Zoey. I-I-I wanted to tell you to stop. I didn't know we were driving! I just- I just- I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I jumped. Oh my gosh, I'm a bad person."

I sat, numb. Mike drew his knees up to his chin and continued to sob.

"P-please don't say bad things about Zoey. She's my angel. Sh-she saved me when I was breaking. I can't lose her. I can't lose her."

"Oh, crap! You don't have a license!" I scrambled over the seats, searching the pockets of my jacket. They came up, empty. My own car had been left in the driveway.

Mike started to make whining noises and scraped his fingernails up and down his arm. "I don't want to be here anymore, but they won't let me come back in."

I took his chin and turned his face down to mine. "Mike. I'm gonna lay it out for you straight here. You can't keep hidin' behind your alternate personalities every time you come across somethin' that you don't like."

He stared back at me, blinking through a sheet of wetness. Glory, that kid's got tear ducts like a crocodile. He whimpered, "I don't want to keep this memory. I'm in big trouble. The police are going to find out I triggered myself on purpose. Ohhh my gosh, I smashed Mom's car. Vito never smashes it. She'll know it was me and I'll have to be punished for that. She's going to be so mad. I'm a bad person. Oh no. W-what if they take me back to juvie? I can't go back to juvie! I've only been out a year!" He pressed his hands to the sides of his skull as his eyes rolled a little back. "Let me in, guys! Please, let me in! Manny, you have to help me! Wake up, Svetlana! Wake up! I n-need you!"

"Mike." I forced myself not to ask the half-dozen other questions on my tongue and instead continued looking him directly in the face. "Who was driving this car?"

"I was. I'm sorry. Hic. I'm so sorry."

"Guess again, sweetums."

He rubbed his nose with the underside of his wrist. "V-Vito was driving. I told you, I'm sorry I jumped over him."

"Close, but no spray tan. It was me, pum'kin. I was driving, remember? Don't ya dare lie ta the police and say I wasn't."

Mike's eyes went wide, and his shudders wracked his thin body a little harder. "Oh, no. Anne Maria, no. Don't- you can't! Please, please don't take the blame for me. You'll get punished. That's not fair. I crashed it, I d-deserve whatever's coming next. It's okay, I've taken worse when I was protecting S-Spencer. If one of us has to prot-t-tect the other, let it be me. I know how to take it. I deserve it anyway, for being so bad. I-I'll be o-okay."

"'Scuse me, dollface?" I made a show of twisting my pinky in my ear, clearing out imaginary wax. "Which one of us has a license here? Do you want ta get arrested tonight?"

"… No. No, of course not, b-but I deser-"

"Yeah, that's what I thought, sugarcube. Here." I ripped off my jacket and shoved it into his hands. "Throw this piece on before someone tries tah give ya lip for public indecency or somethin' stupid like that."

We went outside the car and stood there until the police pulled over to check us out. "My bad, doll," I explained when they asked. "Left my license in my other car. I'll bring it when I come into court."

"The lights," he whispered, reaching out for me. He squeezed his eyes shut. "They're blue and red."

I slid my arms between Mike's and wrapped them around his waist. "Shh, shh, it's okay, baby. You're okay."

"Hic- My s-snot's getting in your hair. I'm s-s-sorry."

"You kiddin', beanpole? Ain't nothin' sticks in my poof. It'll wash out."

He crossed his arms behind my back, pressing me close to his chest. Gradually, as his face worked its way into my hair, his sobs grew more muffled until I could hardly hear them at all. I squeezed him a little tighter. "You're okay. Sweetheart, you're okay. It wasn't your fault. Everything's gonna be peachy in the end. You'll see. I love you."

"Snif- snif- sniffle. You love V-Vito."

"Yes, I do. But you're my friend too, Mike."

He was having a hard time standing. He leaned his weight on me, starting to sink towards the ground. I closed my eyes and kept rubbing his back as he whimpered his endless little river of apologies. Zoey's a saint. I'm not at all ashamed to admit it. You could say she has the… Golden touch.

That was a bad joke. I'm sorry.

Hmm. Although…

Without releasing Mike more than I absolutely had to, I slid my hand into my pocket and drew out my phone. Very carefully so he wouldn't see, I snapped a selfie of us in front of the crash, me cradling her broken little boyfriend, and sent it to Zoey. I'm a pro at typing with only one thumb.

Vs w/e is officially over. I said. Plz call M in 5 min. Not b4! Cops still here and hell say 2 much in state hes in. He needs some1 he loves tell him hes good boy but he wont listen 2 me.

About half a second passed before I got her response: WHAT HAPPENED?!

M jumped V on freeway.

OH MY GOSH! R u ok?

No caslties hon :) Just hit rail. Little shaken but were fine.

I could feel her trembling hands from three hundred miles away as she typed back, Please give Mike plenty of hugs for me. He's terrified of police officers. His dad was a police officer.

No worrys Zo. I got his back. We told cops I was driving. Its going 2 be ok.