Kyle awoke to a twinge of pain in his left shoulder. He clasped at it, remembering that one of the wooden planks had fallen on it yesterday while he was constructing the new and improved greenhouse. Slowly he pulled himself up into a sitting position in his bed. It was a large bed – a queen size – and too big for one person. It would have been his father's bed – had he ever actually lived in the apartment with Kyle. But he didn't, and Kyle soon realized that Rob wasn't coming back. So he saw no harm in taking it as his own.

Kyle thought again about how big the bed was. He wondered what it would be like to share it with someone else.

He thought of Sloan – strangely enough. They'd done it in her room afternoons after school, with the bedroom door locked and the music on her IPod turned up as high as they could make it. They'd done it in his room some evenings, door merely shut, because his father was never at home and Zola always left promptly at six. They rolled around together in each other's beds, but they never slept together – in the literal sense. They never even cuddled in bed together. Sloan always said it was because her parents and their help were always at her house and she feared they would catch them, and she always complained that Kyle's bed was too small. Of course, Kyle now realized Sloan's reluctance was, in part, her well-concealed disgust with him. She was with him because of the stature it gave her in Buckston – nothing else. Kyle couldn't believe he'd never been able to see it until now.

When Lindy came back, he wondered if she'd be willing to move into his room.

When he was dressed and came downstairs for breakfast, he could hear Zola's laughing voice, chattering about her plans for when her children arrived. He could see her as he approached the kitchen, and he assumed that she was talking to Will.

Zola heard his approach, and turned to smile at him. "Good morning. Look who's home."

Kyle peered into the kitchen and found Lindy leaning against the counter, a coffee mug in her hands. She smiled shyly when she saw him. She looked tired, worn down by her responsibilities. Eyes dark and shiny with exhaustion. Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, her shirt and jeans wrinkled. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Without a word, he crossed the room and engulfed her in a hug. Her arms came up slowly, clasping his neck and shoulders. He felt the ache from his injury where she was touching him, but he didn't care. Lindy was in his arms; that's all that mattered.

"Fun time's over, lovebirds," Will called out as he joined them in the kitchen. He looked taken aback when he saw Lindy. "Lindy! For some reason, I always pegged you as a redhead."

Lindy and Kyle looked at each other with a smile. "Congrats on getting your sight back, Will. And it's funny – I always wanted red hair," she told him.

"Maybe in your next life," Will replied. "Anyway, as I said, fun time's over. We have a lot of work to do, and very little time to do it. Kyle, fill the tank and then meet us in the living room." Without waiting for an answer, the tutor left his students in the kitchen.

"Crack that whip," Lindy joked to Kyle. "It's what we need, though."

He nodded. "I know. He's been too easy on me for too long." He cupped his love's chin in his hand. "I'm glad you're home. I missed you."

Lindy smiled and touched his hand. "I missed you too. But go on, eat some breakfast. It's going to be a long day."

Will wasn't exaggerating. The moment Lindy and Kyle sat down, he walked them through the requirements of the GED, the five sections they would be tested on and the amount of time they'd be given for each one. The best thing to do, Will decided, was to give the two of them a full sample test to assess their skills.

It took them the whole day to take the test: 8 hours, not counting the hour they took for lunch and two 15 minute breaks that Will allowed them. Kyle had never been pushed so hard intellectually his whole life. As he slowly wove his way through the test, working to edit professional letters and resumes, balancing chemical equations, and guessing as to when the Battle of Gettysburg occurred, among others, he realized how far he'd gotten in his life based on being the rich, popular, good-looking son of a famous news anchor. Not only did he have his socially-challenged classmates falling over themselves to do the difficult assignments for him, but many of his teachers as well.

The old cliché was accurate: he really had done himself a disservice having the work always done for him.

When the test was finally done, the two of them were exhausted. Will brought them over some dinner that Zola cooked, and told them he'd evaluate their tests and have their results later in the evening. Kyle felt like most of the energy had been drained out of them, but nonetheless he tore into his food like he hadn't eaten in days. He and Lindy found themselves going to bed not too long after that, both mutually amazed by how little energy they had after that.

Will wasn't any more merciful after that first day. His assessments of Kyle and Lindy's tests were brutal; Lindy's skills in math and science needed work, while Kyle needed work all over.

"I don't get it," Will said, looking at Kyle's results. "Your dad gave me copies of your grade reports when he hired me so I'd know what skill level you were on. I mean, I know you haven't really studied in a year, but…"

Kyle felt the blood drain from his face. Lindy was looking at him. He cursed Will in his head for saying it in front of her – even if it were the truth.

Will pressed. "What is it, Kyle?"

"Well…when your father is famous, everyone is willing to…cut you some breaks. Not just the other kids, but your teachers, and the administrators…" he trailed off.

Will looked at the results again sympathetically. "Well, we'll work on it. You two need to brush up on your skills, but you're not a lost cause. Go on, get some rest. We'll take this up again in the morning."

Kyle followed Lindy as she made her way down the hall to her room. "Lindy!" he called out. She turned around.

"Lindy…about what I told you and Will. I want you to know that-that I'm not proud of my dad letting me get away with stuff."

She nodded. "I know, Kyle."

He looked away, at the bare walls of the hallway that should have been decorated with the photos of a happy family and friends, but weren't. "It's weird, you know. Up until last year, I thought I was living the life that people would kill to have. I basked in it, threw it in people's faces. And now…I'm ashamed of that life. I wish I could just…erase it."

Lindy leaned against the wall, the pale light of the ceiling lamp softening her already delicate features. "I think we're all ashamed of things in our lives. Some things we did to ourselves – and then there are some that just happened to us. But that's not what matters."

"Then what does?"

"What matters is what we do afterwards."

He wanted to tell her to move out of the attic bedroom, to bring herself and all of her things into his room and they'd make it their room. He wanted to tell her how he ached for her.

But he missed his chance. She'd said good night, and was climbing the stairs.


One afternoon, during one of their breaks, Kyle wandered up to the greenhouse. He hadn't seen where Lindy went, and thought she might be up there. By now the greenhouse was fully rebuilt and full of roses. It made him smile to see them again, all of the different colors. He couldn't believe he'd ever torn it down.

"Oww!"

Kyle quickly ducked into the greenhouse, finding Lindy hopping on one foot, coming to lean on the iron sitting table.

"What did you do?" he asked, putting an arm around her.

She sucked in her breath. "I think I got some thorns in my foot." She laughed wryly. "Walking barefoot up here – just goes to show my brain's been fried by all this studying."

"All right, come on. Let's go downstairs and get them out." Kyle effortlessly lifted her into his arms.

"Oh, you don't need to carry me," Lindy protested.

"How else are you going to get down to your room?" Kyle argued.

Lindy clung to his neck as he climbed down the steep ladder to her bedroom and whimpered. Kyle chuckled. "We'll be fine. I've done this before."

"With who?" Lindy asked in disbelief.

He smiled at her. "You, dummy. Don't you remember when we stayed up until dawn? You fell asleep in the greenhouse. I carried you to bed. How do you think you got down here?"

She blushed and looked away. He set her down on the bed and went to the closet one floor down to get the first aid kit. He pulled a chair in front of her and sat down in it, pulling her foot into his lap. He cleaned the excess dirt off of her foot with a damp cloth first, so he could more easily see where the thorns had embedded themselves in her skin. As the cloth touched the wounds, Lindy inhaled sharply.

Kyle looked at her guiltily. "Sorry," he said.

She shook her head. "Has to be done." She looked at her foot in his hands. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yep."

She gestured to her face. "When you had the-the scars, did they hurt?"

Kyle paused what he was doing and looked at her. Her question came as a surprise to him; she'd never seemed curious before. "No," he told her. Her foot now clean, he reached down into the first aid kit and found a pair of tweezers.

She winced again as the first thorn came out. "Why me?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, you were there when Victor threatened us and you made a deal with my dad to take me. But why? We barely knew each other. There had to have been a bunch of other girls you knew better."

Kyle chuckled lightly under his breath. "I'd been following you for a couple of days before the Victor thing." When he saw her confusion, he continued his explanation. "I spent the summer after Kendra worked her voodoo on me, just hating life. The first time I left the house was for Halloween, figuring that the slash-face would blend in at the Buckston party. Kendra told me to find someone who could see better than I can, and…I found you."

Lindy smiled, then flinched as Kyle removed the second thorn. "You were the one I talked to about the death of romance." And the shot of life, she thought to herself.

"You made me smile that night. I hadn't smiled in five months."

"It must have been strange. You know, hearing people talk about you as if you were someone else." Lindy remembered the conversation they later had in that same room – about the handsome guy from her old school that she didn't fall for.

Kyle didn't answer. He was searching her foot, looking for any remaining thorns. His fingers traced the pads of her toes, running down the soft instep to circle her heel, again and again and again. Lindy was surprised to find that he didn't make her ticklish. Normally her feet were so sensitive that even she could barely touch them. But Kyle was different somehow. His fingers were warm, probing. She didn't want him to stop; she wanted more.

Uncomfortable with the silence, Lindy decided to ask him another question. "Did you ever want to tell me who you really were? Before you actually changed back?"

By now, Kyle had found the third and last thorn and he pulled it out of Lindy's foot quickly. It hurt the most of the three and she stifled a cry.

"No," Kyle said simply.

"No?" Lindy asked incredulously. "Why?"

He smiled bitterly. "The 'why' changed over time. First, I didn't want to tell you because I hated what I looked like after the curse. I was too ashamed. And then…after I'd fallen in love with you, I didn't want to tell you because…I could see who I'd been. And I hated it."

He was still holding her foot in his hands. She could have pulled it away, but she wasn't sure she wanted to. He balanced her foot in one hand while the other ran itself over the smoothness of the calf of her leg.

Lindy swallowed, her heart racing. "S-s-so…what were you going to do when I broke the spell and I saw it was you?"

Kyle's other hand left her foot and also skimmed its way up the front of her leg, caressing her shin. "I think…there was always a part of me that thought it wasn't going to happen. It hurt, but somehow…it made me feel better too."

"It…made you feel better? To think that I'd never love you?" Lindy whispered in disbelief.

His hands were on her knee now. He scooted the chair a little closer, so her leg rested against his hip. "Can I ask you a question now?" he said softly.

"Yep."

"Do you ever wish I was still him?"

He knew about her doubt. Of course he did; he could see her as well as she could see him. Why wasn't she surprised? She had to show him that she wasn't afraid.

"But you are him." Lindy moved a little closer to the edge of the bed, causing Kyle's hands to move from her knee to her thigh. His fingertips were just under the hem of her shorts. "Aren't you?"

They were coming towards each other, their lips seeking each other out. And just before they touched, a voice called out, "Hey Romeo and Juliet! These quadratic equations aren't going to solve themselves!"

They bent their heads in mutual frustration. "I really hate that guy," Kyle told her.

"He's just trying to help us. And we need it," Lindy pointed out.

Kyle nodded grudgingly, and the two of them abandoned their frustrations and made their way downstairs.

They spent the rest of the day working with Will. Since Lindy needed help on math and science and Kyle needed help all over, Will geared the lessons towards these subjects, touching on mitosis and meiosis and linking it with the math subjects of probability and statistics.

By seven that evening he could see he was losing them, and finally called it a day. Zola started dinner and gratefully accepted Lindy's offer to help cook. Two hours later, the four of them were sitting around the dining room table, the meal successfully eaten and enjoyed.

It was the feeling of family, of togetherness, that struck Kyle as he sat there. These three people weren't blood related to him – in fact, they'd only been part of his life for a year – but he felt more of a connection to them than to anything or anyone else that had passed through his life before. He loved them; he was lucky to have them.

His eyes met Lindy's as she wiped off one of the serving dishes and replaced it in the sideboard. He didn't realize it, but his gaze must have been intense because she blushed and turned away with a smile.

The calm was broken by the ring of the doorbell. Will and Kyle looked at each other in surprise. No one ever came to their apartment.

"I'll get it!" Lindy piped up when no one else seemed to be ready to answer it.

She opened the door, a dish towel still in her hands. The handsome face of Kyle's father met hers.

She recognized him immediately. "Oh! Mr. Kingson!" she exclaimed, caught off-guard.

He smiled charitably at her. "Good evening. May I come in?"

"Of course." She stood aside so he could come in.

He gave her a cursory glance as he walked into the foyer. "I wasn't aware that Zola left. When did you start?"

Lindy's mouth dropped open at Rob's mistake. She sputtered, trying to find an answer.

"Dad!" Kyle's appearance from the dining room saved her from further embarrassment. His arm immediately came to wrap around Lindy. "What are you doing here?"

Rob noticed Kyle's gesture of affection towards the girl and cleared his throat. "I just came to see how you're doing. You're…still looking well."

Kyle's face darkened. His father had remembered what he'd said about his condition possibly being chronic. He came out of curiosity, to find out if his son was still worth his time, or had reverted back to the scarred, freakish burden he needed to conceal.

Remembering the girl on his arm, he conjured up a smile and said, "Dad, this is Lindy."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kingson," Lindy said, holding out her hand.

Rob paused for a moment, seeming to ponder the hand being held out to him, then eventually shook it. "Likewise," he said. He turned to his son. "Kyle, could we speak somewhere in private?"

Reluctantly, Kyle nodded and directed his father into the living room, having no choice but to leave Lindy behind. He saw Will's and Zola's surprised faces as they passed by the dining room.

As Kyle shut the door behind them, Rob looked around the room. "It's nice. You look like you've been doing well."

"As well as can be expected," Kyle replied diplomatically. He didn't want to feel anger or bitterness – not when things were finally coming together for him.

"So…she's your…girlfriend?" Rob pointed to the closed door.

More than that, much more. More than you could ever understand, Kyle thought to himself. But for simplicity's sake, he simply replied, "She is."

"And…does she go to school as well?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. He knew his father didn't come all this way to make small talk. "She's getting her GED with me."

Rob's face darkened slightly. "Oh. So it was her idea for you to quit Buckston and do this instead."

Kyle crossed his arms. "What is it you came to talk to me about?"

"I came to see how you are, Kyle. I was worried about you."

"It just occurred to you after a year to come and see me? Come on, Dad. What is it really?"

"I know I haven't been around, but I want to make it up to you. The network is having a banquet on the 12th. Since you came to see me, everyone's been asking about you. I'd like you to attend with me."

Kyle scoffed. "You've been going to these things all my life without me. Why do you want me to go now?"

Rob held up his hands. "Like I said, to make it up to you. Everyone, including the bigwigs, know that I have a smart, handsome son. I want to show you off. What's the shame in that? It's a family-themed event. They want to see happy families. That's the way the network is going. There's a new talk show that I might have a shot at, and—"

"Ah, there it is," Kyle interrupted with a smile. "I'm promotion-bait for you. Well, I wish you the best of luck with that, Dad, but I'm not going to the thing with you."

"But, Kyle, this is a great opportunity for you too! A good-looking guy like you – you might be able to score a modeling position, or a job for a commercial or something. There's good money to be made. And there's more to life than this shabby apartment, or that little test you want to take."

"There's more to life than making money, or being beautiful. I've learned that the hard way. So, thanks, but no thanks."

Rob's eyes narrowed. "It's her, isn't it? She's the one who's poisoned your mind." He walked up to the door and hit it lightly with his fingers, as if it were the person he was speaking about. "Little Miss Food Stamps with her thrift store clothes and messy hair." He turned to look at his son. "She's beneath you, you know that? Where ever did you dig her up?"

Kyle's fists clenched. He tucked them behind his back to control himself. "She's a beautiful person, and I love her. You have no right to say a word about her."

"Oh, Kyle, don't get me wrong – she's a hot little piece, good for a fling, but certainly not worth throwing away everything you've got."

Kyle stormed out of the living room, straight to the foyer and opened the front door, sparing no looks for words for his father. "It's time for you to go," he said to Rob through clenched teeth.

Rob sighed. "Fine. You'll come to your senses on your own." He began to walk through the door, then turned back. "Consider going to the banquet with me. I think it'll open your eyes." And with that, he left.

Kyle slammed the door after him as hard as he could. His heart was racing in his chest, and he was trembling – literally trembling – with fury. He managed to catch his breath in spite of his anger, and slowly made his way into the dining room. But Will and Zola weren't there. The table was cleaned up quickly, hastily, the kitchen tidy but looking thrown together. They must have tried to get everything in order and then quickly leave the scene before it got nasty between Kyle and his father. His friends had always been intuitive.

It was quiet, so quiet in the house. As quiet as it was when Kyle first was banished to the apartment and refused to do anything but stew in his own juices. In those days you could hear a pin drop, and the curse had enhanced his hearing, anyway. Making him not only ugly, but beastly too.

If he was still cursed, he'd still have that advanced hearing. He would have known, even with the living room door closed, that Lindy had been sitting on the stairs outside of the room, hearing the conversation between him and his father. He would have heard her slowly climb the stairs to her room afterwards.

And later, when Kyle went up to Lindy's room, hoping to find her awake, hoping that he'd finally get to ask her to move into his room with him, he would have known that even though she was lying still in bed, covered with a blanket, the sound of her breathing would tell him that she wasn't asleep. He'd be able to detect the sobs in her breathing, without seeing the tears that had dripped onto her pillow.