Mrs. Melrose Larimer stepped daintily out of her car, grabbing her briefcase and blazer in one fluid motion. Her heels clicked on the brick walk up to her front door, and her keys jingled as she twisted the keys in the lock.

Melrose's hair was brown and wavy, and few inches past her shoulders. She was an ethereal beauty, small, olive skin soft and clear. She was a loan officer for a bank in town, and worked the standard nine to five hours, yet still managed to bring home work everyday.

In the small front room of her almost suburban house, she pulled off her shoes. Sometimes she wished she lived in a real suburb, it seemed like those communities were more close knit, and everyone always looked so happy, mowing their front lawns, children riding bikes up and down the street. Buy she liked the uniquity of her neighborhood, how it had its own personality and character.

She paused the juggling of her things, and heard the voices coming through the closed door of the entrance into the main house.

She caught the end of her daughter's laugh, and then a male voice.

"Damn, that's delicious."

This was alarming to Melrose. She'd had her fair share of boys over at her house in her day, and had some idea of what could go on. Without any kind of warning, she burst through the door, to something she did not expect at all.

June sat at the kitchen table, next to a boy with a long face and dark eyes. They were eating ice cream cones, and smiling at eachother. Melrose let out her breath.

"Hi mom," Her daughter said with a welcoming smile. Before melrose could ask, June continued. "This is Cameron. His father disinherited him. He needs a place to stay."

Melrose blinked. "Really?"

"Yep," Said the boy called Cameron.

"Well...I suppose you can stay for a while. If you really need a place to stay." Melrose succumbed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Larimer." Cameron smiled. Melrose didn't think that he looked like a boy whose father had just disinherited him, but she shrugged it off and started to prepare dinner.

"Come on," Said June. "I'll show you the spare room."

c c c

The fight had been awful. June had been greeted with a "Who the hell are you?", and couldn't count how many times she thought either Cameron or Mr. Frye were close to taking swings at eachother. They screamed, June cowered. She hated loud noises and conflict. But she was there to support Cameron, and that's what she did.

It ended with her hurrying after Cameron as he stormed out, his father yelling insults after him. It was a ballsy move, what Cameron had done. She wondered if his excommunication would last, or if his father would come to his senses and let his son come home. Until then, she was happy to be able to spend time with Cameron.

They'd climbed into her truck, Cameron with a backpack full of amenities. He wiped his eyes discreetly as they drove away.

June lead him down the hallway, past her bedroom and attached bathroom to the guest suite. Cameron laid his backpack on a chair in the corner.

"Thanks again, June." He said. "This is really nice of you."

"Well, I couldn't leave you out on the street, now could I?" Cameron was convinced that if he stayed with Ferris, he'd end up accidentally driving another car off a cliff, but this time he'd still be in it.

"I'm gonna go do my homework," Said June. "If you need anything, my room's down the hall." She strolled out, and as soon as she was out of sight, her face broke out into an uncontrollable grin. She leaped over the threshold of her room, and crashed down on her bed in glee. Cameron had kissed her. He was at her house. She didn't like the circumstances that lead to that being a necessity, but she could at least enjoy spending time with him.

"Hmm," She said into her pillow. "I bet Roz would be surprised to hear about this turn of events."

c c c

Gerald "Jerry" Larimer returned home at six in the evening that day.

As his car door slammed, he noticed the slightly adjusted position of his truck, which in reality had been adopted by his daughter. He wondered momentarily what she would have needed it for on a weekday such as this one, but dismissed the thought. He didn't have to worry about his daughter doing reckless things, usually.

His front door was unlocked, as it always was when his wife beat him home. Melrose was scrupulous about her routines. Things were always the same as the day before, no confusion was involved on any of their parts. No unseen variables, usually.

He entered the front room, and heard the voices immediately. Or, the voice. It was June's. She sounded amused, but strained.

"Jesus, Cameron. Stop it! Careful."

Jerry paused. Not words he liked to hear from his teenaged daughter. Usually.

"Hmpf," He said, suspicious, and opened the door into the main house.

His daughter and boy he didn't recognize were spread out on the floor.

Playing Twister.

Oh, Jerry thought, and laughed inwardly. He had a quick sense of humor, never took anything to serious. Unless it was life threatening, of course.

"Hi, dad," June called. She was wrapped halfway around the boy's torso, reaching with her right hand for blue. Jerry wasn't sure how you could play Twister with only two people, someone had to call out where to put your limbs, right? But clearly, June and this boy were managing just fine. How odd.

Jerry didn't ask who the boy was. He knew he'd find out when the time came. He always did.