Jeez, when I first started 'Is Forever Enough?', I didn't think that I'd even post a second chapter. And now it's time for a sequel.

I named this 'How Strong Are You Now?' after the Rascal Flatts song. It's going to end up relating to this fic a lot. I also chose it because I like to keep in the pattern of titles that are also questions.

Every chapter in this is going to be named after a song because every idea for this story came from a song. This is going to probably be a lot longer and a lot more emotional and serious than 'Is Forever Enough?' but I promise, I'll still make you laugh.

A lot is going to go down so I hope you can all stick with me for the millions of chapters it's going to take to get it all down.

This is rated 'T' for now but it might get bumped up to 'M' in the future. So, if you're a big-kid, you'll be fine.

Oh, one more technical thing. I Googled average summer weather temperatures in Seattle and it turns out, it isn't that hot. But in future chapters, the heat is significant to the plot. Maybe I'll make it some sort of odd Global-Warming-related heat wave. If not, let's just allow me to have some artistic justice and pretend Seattle is hot in the summer.

To prevent myself from rambling on too much, I'll end this intro here. Enjoy!


It took a lot longer than I thought it would to convince my father to let me stay with my sister during summer vacation. He was still pretty pissed at me for spending spring break with her. I argued that he wouldn't have to see her anyway so he shouldn't care. He seemed to think my mind was going to somehow be corrupted if I stayed with her again. Luckily, my mother acted as a voice of reason and managed to persuade him into letting me go, probably pointing out that I wouldn't be home to annoy him. He had no argument against that.

Originally, I thought that it would've been a cool idea for them to drive me up to Seattle instead of flying out so I could bring my bike with me. The idea was quickly shot down for many reasons, two of which being the fact that my dad didn't want to see Callie and that my mother didn't want to hear my father whine about having to see Callie. My mother seemed to be strangely less involved with whole disowning Callie thing but refused to talk to me about it so I wasn't completely sure. Eventually it was decided that I would just bring my skateboard. I didn't complain because it didn't really matter to me whether I brought my skateboard or my bike. They both have wheels and they both move. A skateboard could be packed in a duffel bag, though, which made it slightly easier.

Another dilemma was what I was going to do with my turtle. Both of my parents didn't like the fact that I even still had the turtle, claiming it was juvenile. They said that a 'young adult' shouldn't still have a pet that they got when they were seven. I reminded them that turtles live for a long time and having a turtle is not in the slightest bit childish. Still, I figured that if I left my pet home, I'd come back to find him either dead from them not feeding him or suddenly belonging to our nine-year-old neighbor. So my faithful pet would be making the trip with me.

This time, the plane ride seemed longer. I guess it was because this time I couldn't fall asleep. I had my turtle's cage in the seat next to me, something was normally disallowed. My father had paid the pilot two hundred bucks to let me do it. My dad's main method of getting anything done in life was paying someone off to make it easier. I should've been appreciative but instead I was just annoyed that my father waved his money around like a magic wand. I blamed him for why my older sister Gina was so spoiled. I pushed these thoughts out of my mind, though, and focused on the fact that I only had to sit for five or so hours until I could begin the summer with the sister that I actually liked.

When I saw Callie at the airport waiting for me, I breathed a sigh of relief; summer had officially started. Guitar case on my back and turtle cage in my hand, I figured I looked like a tourist, a very strange tourist, at that.

"Catalina Torres." Callie said to me as I approached her. "Did you get shorter?" She laughed at her own joke and hugged me, way less hesitantly as opposed to our visit two months prior. This made me think that she actually had missed me. There was a lot more luggage that had to be carried to the car this time around and it took four trips to get it all. But once the car was all packed, we headed to Callie's house. I was glad to be going back. The entire ride home consisted of Callie catching me up on all the Seattle Grace drama I had missed. Apparently Cristina was dating some Army dude, Izzie had cancer and Meredith and Derek were getting married (mind you, I only knew who Izzie was out of that list of drama, but I just nodded along, pretending I understood it.)

As soon as we arrived home (I liked calling Callie's house 'home' more than I liked calling my own house in Florida 'home'), we started to unpack.

"I didn't know you played guitar." Callie added as I leaned my guitar case against the couch. "I thought you played drums."

"I do. I play both." I said. "But you'd be pretty pissed if I set up a drum set in your house, now, wouldn't you?"

"Good point." She answered. I saw her staring at the turtle cage that I had sitting on the floor. "So, where are you going to put the turtle?"

"His name is Needles." I corrected. She laughed at me.

"You named your turtle 'Needles'?" She smirked. "You're gayer than me and I've got a girlfriend."

"Oh, you're hilarious." I said, rolling my eyes. "Speaking of which, where is Miss Robbins? Does she know that I'm making my Seattle comeback?"

"Yeah, she knows you're spending the summer." Callie answered. "But she didn't know you were coming this week. She's coming over tonight. I figured you'd want to tell her yourself." She was still staring at the cage Needles was in. "Seriously, though, what are you going to do with him?" I shrugged, leaning my back against the couch.

"I could put him whatever." I answered. "He's not going to complain. I figured I'd just put him in the kitchen." Callie seemed disgusted at this idea. "I'll put a towel on the counter first. It's a turtle, not a raccoon I found in the dumpster, Cal." It was clear to me that Callie was not an animal-lover, or at least a turtle-lover.

It took an hour or so to unpack everything. I hadn't set up the guestroom yet but I was tired and said I'd do it later. I threw myself onto the couch and turned on the Stanley Cup recap from the night before (my dad was ranting about me staying with Callie again and managed to completely drown out the entire game).

"Hey," Callie said from behind me. When I glanced back, I saw her holding one of my bags. "You know you have like a thousand dollars in cash here right?"

"Yep."

"What's it for?"

"Dad gave it to me. I think it's for food or something." I thought about this for a moment. I remembered my dad giving me the money before I got on the plane. "Actually, I have no idea what it's for. Dad was explaining it to me in Spanish. I don't think he realizes yet that after sixteen years of life, I still can't speak Spanish. For all I know, he could've given me that money for hookers and iTunes."

"Oh, that reminds me." Callie said. I was curious to see how I reminded her of something with 'hookers and iTunes'. She went and retrieved something that was in her bedroom, then threw it at me. "Happy late birthday." My sixteenth birthday was in May, a couple weeks after my spring-break trip. I tore through the wrapping paper as all kids do when receiving a gift. It was a PSP game. "I don't know if you have it or not but I couldn't think of what else you'd want."

"Patapon 2" I read off the cover. "Lead your troops using the new Patapon hero." I had no idea what it meant but the cover art was colorful and had lots of positive words on it. "Sounds cool, thanks." Callie just smiled, then glanced up at the clock.

"Arizona should be here in a half hour." Callie said looking down at me. "Try not to make a mess before she gets here."

"I don't plan on leaving this couch." I said, resettling myself in my seat and turning my attention to the game. "I've got a Stanley Cup game to watch."

"Keep me posted."

I spent the next thirty minutes on the couch, yelling the play-by-play to Callie who was getting ready in the bathroom. A few seconds after the third period began, the doorbell rang. I peeked out the front window to see my favorite perky blonde doctor. I threw open the door to greet Arizona.

"Hey, Dimples." I exclaimed. "Did you miss me?"

"Catalina Torres!" She replied, throwing me into a hug. "When did you get back in Seattle?"

"Earlier today." I faced the hallway. "Yo, Callie," I yelled. "Arizona's here." Callie emerged from the bathroom pretty quickly. I'm pretty sure Callie said something and then kissed Arizona but I was already slung over the couch with my eyes glued to the TV again. I heard the puck ring off the goal post, a sound that immediately caught my attention. Damn that Sidney Crosby. I think Callie might've said something to me before her and Arizona left the room but I wasn't listening to her at all.

-x-x-x-

I was angry that Detroit had won the hockey game so I channeled my energy into making the guestroom a little more decorative. I took down Callie's Matchbox Twenty poster and replaced it with a Tampa Bay Lightning poster. I set up my guitar stand and propped it up against the wall with my guitar in place. I had my laptop, PSP and satellite radio all set up on the computer desk, making me feel high-tech (though it took me a half hour to figure out how to set up the satellite radio which made me feel like a moron). I put my clothes in the closet, though was lazy and left some in my bags and told myself I'd 'do it later' (I wouldn't, of course). Needles was set up on the kitchen counter and the guestroom was now looking more like home. Only after I had finished all this, however, I realized that the guestroom was blazing hot. Why? There was no cold air coming out of the air-conditioner.

I dragged my pillow to Callie's room. I knocked on her door and didn't wait for an answer before opening it, hopeful that Arizona had already left. Luckily, she had, and Callie was sitting up in bed watching TV.

"What up?" She called to me, glancing at me.

"The AC in the guestroom doesn't work." I stated.

"Oh right." She said. Her expression showed that she had just remembered this fact. "That sucks."

"Yeah. It does suck." I replied, tossing my pillow on her bed and laying down. She just stared at me.

"Uh."

"It's a king-size bed, Callie." I told her. "We can both sleep here. I'll sleep in the guestroom when the AC is fixed and it's not two hundred degrees." She probably could've argued it and/or physically removed me from her bed, but instead she just shrugged.

"Whatever." She answered. She clicked off the TV, then the lights and laid down beside me, making sure she had the blankets that she wanted on her side of the bed. "Good night, Catalina. Welcome home." The word 'home' again rang in my mind. I liked it. I liked being here.

I woke up sometime during the night to Callie trying to climb over me.

"Dude, get your knee out of my kidney." I groaned, trying to push her off of me. "What are you doing?"

"I have to pee." She mumbled.

"Wouldn't it have been smarter to get out of bed on your side, then walk around?"

"I thought this would be faster."

"You thought wrong."

I must've fallen asleep before she returned from the bathroom because I was reawakened by her climbing over me a second time.

"Dude, didn't we just discuss this?"

"This still seems faster." She said, then laid down again. "Go to sleep."

It felt good to be home.


Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows.
Just a place to run, when my working day is through.
They say home is where the heart is.
If the exception proves the rule, I guess that's true.