Correction: I foundt more black people in the Glee extras on IMDB, so I can give Allie-Ann a FC and even a name. Probably gonna use most of those other extras for Book of Matthew, though. At any rate, I realize that I wasn't necessarily clear about the functions of this institution, so I'll try to naturally tell how it operates instead of hitting y'all with a huge description/explanation about how some of the things go.

I'd Sing It Softly in Your Ear

Chase decided to stay in the more private ward of the building, more afraid to have to see Stevie again after admitting to Dani and Cheerio the truth about how he wound up getting caught with Pendleton and facing sexual assault penalties (which ultimately the investigation decided that it was not a case of that, on his part). Pendleton's parents checked her out of the place and brought her elsewhere, threatening to sue (but ultimately never did.

Another doctor was sent in to assess those in the youth ward and assist with making some necessary changes to try to ensure that another incident like that one did not take place. Firstly, they decided to put in more cameras and hire someone to man them, at all times. Then, they would activate more alarms between corridors, so that only personnel with badges could go undetected. Next, they started a spreadsheet, that the staff could access from their phones and laptops in order to check off accounted for residents while doing their rounds. "It isn't that we feel like you dropped the ball. It's simply a stressful environment sometimes, with so many teenagers in one spot that it is not uncommon to let some of the least troubled slip between the cracks. Chase Madison had never had any type of disruption or attack. The most trouble related to him had been nervously crying whenever strangers came into the building for the holidays. It was easy to lose track of him, because he doesn't misbehave and whenever he feels threatened or worried, he retreats to his room and doesn't cause trouble. But, if we had someone mark on the spreadsheet that he was in his room during rounds, it would have been more difficult for him to end up in the corridor with the young lady." Dr. Rupert Campion said.

Surette folded his arms and sighed, "Are we going to separate the teenagers and the young adults in the common room?"

"I don't see a need to do so."

"Madison spent most of his time with the teenagers. I think that he probably saw them as peers and that's how he wasn't able to outline that he legally can't touch a teenage girl."

"Well, he legally can't touch any girl or woman, here," Dr. Pepper reminded them. "I speak to the teenagers about consent. We've spoken at length about what constitutes as such. I generally don't handle the young adult residents, but hopefully, they've gotten some lessons about this, as well." She glanced at Dr. McIntosh.

Dr. McIntosh said, "We don't speak about consent, in general - as this has never been an issue for any of the young adults. Even in this instance, we have already learned that the teenage girl made the advances at my patient, so excuse me, Dr. Pepper - perhaps your at lengths conversations are not well carried out."

Dr. Campion interrupted what was certainly about to become an argument to say, "The only change that they'll probably need to get used to is leaving the common room going in a different direction. With the new alarm systems in tact, unless someone is escorting them through that corridor, they won't be able to go through without setting it off."

"Will it be locked?" Bukowski asked.

"Absolutely not - fire safety hazard."

"So, we basically have to be prepared for probably weeks of them accidentally setting off the alarm and almost surely freaking themselves out when they do?" he asked as a follow up.

Dr. Campion smiled and shook his head, "I've considered that, Mr. Bukowski, and no. We'll have reminder signs that indicate that only staff should go through the doors. If they don't or can't read it, and they still go through and not deactivate the alarm with a badge (as all of the staff will be able to do), the alarm buzzes at the nurse's station and an available nurse or an orderly checks it out, to make sure it's just a little accident. At that point, gently remind the resident that this door has an alarm now, for their safety and to please take the alternate route next time. That's what you might have for a few weeks, but I would rather that any day than the call that a resident has possibly been sexually assaulted in one of our facilities."

One of the orderlies from the delinquency center wondered, "Will the cameras be inside of the rooms of the residents?"

Campion shook his head, "No, no. We don't want to impede on privacy in that way, but if we have any trouble from someone in particular, we may, for a time install surveillance on them, just until we can ensure safety for everyone."

"I work with the criminals," he said. "We have trouble from everybody in particular."

"Well, from my records, that division is more abundantly staffed and there is more security and order…" He faced the others, "That is not to say that the non-threatening division is too lax. We simply… tend to seem to have a few more issues coming out of this end right now than we do with the delinquents."

Surette complained, "We have at least two violent criminals in the teenager ward, right now, and not to be a whiner, I do often feel like my associates don't take it seriously enough."

Bukowski said back, "Just because we don't roughhouse the residents like you do?"

"Because some of us get a little to friendly with the residents, instead of just making sure that they're doing what they're supposed to."

"But, which of us has gotten more complaints?"

"Complaints aren't indicative of a bad job!"

"Yours are. You shoved the Robinson girl and she almost pressed charges on you!" Bukowski fussed.

"You hug people. It's fucking weird!" Surette snapped, right back.

"Calm down, please. Let me just say this - in no way, shape, or form should our staff be allowed to touch the residents, unless we have to move them for their own safety, or they are not capable of it for whatever reason, or something of that nature. Shoving and hugging, in my professional opinion, are both completely inappropriate. Especially considering that you both work with teenagers," Campion scolded.

"Teenagers and young adults," Surette and Bukowski said at the same time.

Bukowski added on, "And they are huggy people. A lot of them have been hurt or harmed and they now feel comfortable enough to reach out and offer affection. I'm not gonna shut them down, if they've made such progress. Nobody is going to hug the person that grabs them by the arm and forces them out of their room because the schedule says it's time to eat." He glared at Surette.

Campion said, "I want to speak with both of you at the closing of this meeting," then changed the subject back to the changes that he expected to see in the building.

Before leaving, Dr. Pepper said, "My kids insisted that I ask you this - because the one person who was responsible for getting CD privileges has left the facility, will they be allowed to have CDs again?"

Dr. Campion chuckled, "I am going to say let's see how they handle some of the other changes first.

.

"The new doctor is super cute!" Cheerio observed.

"I don't think he's new. I think he's their boss or something and has to stop in because of the shitstorm," Dani said.

"Ain't he kinda late?" Stevie asked.

"Everything here happens slowly. It's a very poorly run establishment," Dani said, then told Myron, "No offense."

"None taken. It isn't my uncle's fault this place is this way. Their budget sucks, the board is only ever concerned if there is a scandal, and many of the practices that they have set in place are outdated, but the same old dudes keep deciding that it still works. He does his best with what he has to work with."

"Some offense, he's bad at hiring people," Stevie said.

"Everything that you say is offensive, so you don't even have to give a disclaimer," Myron said. "But, I can see how you would feel that way. Most of your interactions are with orderlies, because you can't control your temper."

"Bukowski said that they would have a couple more, so that they could cover more ground," Cheerio said.

"Why are you always talking to him?" Stevie asked.

"He's the one that talks to us. You can't ask Surette anything without him getting pissy, and the nurses take their jobs too seriously to ever be straight up. Bukowski is the weakest link."

Dr. Campion, Surette, Bukowski and the two new orderlies were walking around, using their phones and talking (well, Campion was instructing the others) about the protocol. They passed by the four teenagers, leaning against the wall and Surette asked, "Why are you four not in the common room?"

"Why are you always harassing folks?" Cheerio asked.

Dr. Campion paused, smiled and reached out to shake her hand, "Hi. I am Dr. Rupert Campion. I represent the board and I am here to make things better and easier for you to prevent conditions that we recently realized that we might have dropped the ball about." She shook his hand and asked, "Are you being condescending, or are you actually going to fix the problems with this place?"

"I wouldn't dare condescend to the people that keep me employed. My job is to make sure that this environment works in your favor, and your favor, and your favor, and… yours… Myron?"

"Hi, Dr. Campion," Myron said.

"I didn't realize that you were here," Campion said.

"That is a terrible start," Dani snickered. "He's one of the residents that you work for?" She held out her hands.

Campion simply smiled, "Well, I certainly hope that I do better along the way. Miss Robinson, correct? I couldn't help but to notice that you had a complaint with Mr. Surette."

"Could you notice how rude he asked us why we're not in the common room?"

"I hadn't, but now that you've pointed it out, I'm certainly going to see if we can't do something about his people interaction skills. Do you trust me to handle that?"

"You look pretty trustworthy. But, it might be a ruse. You've got great teeth and obviously have had to have at least some type of training in building rapport. I'll allow it. I trust you to handle it. Don't let me down."

"I'll do my best. Now that we've tackled that portion of the problem, do you think that you could maybe tell me why you young people are posted out here?" He asked, smiling.

Cheerio shrugged her shoulders, "We were curious and nervous about some of the changes. You see… Chase was our friend. We don't get to really see him anymore, and we were worried that what happened with him was going to change how much we're able to see friends and stuff."

"Well, I can assure you, whatever changes we make are going to be our best efforts of improving things. I would really appreciate it if you all could report either to the common room, cafeteria, or one of your rooms, with the door open, of course."

"We can hang out in our rooms, now?" Dani asked, "I mean… legally. We definitely were already doing it, but we're not gonna get wrangled out by Manhandle McGee over here?"

Campion hid his displeasure of yet another reference to Surette being aggressive with the residents and told them, "Let this be a verbal contract between us, okay? You can definitely hang out in your rooms, granted the door is open and that you aren't doing anything against policy when rounds are made." He said under his breath, "How it should have been in the first place…"

Cheerio squealed and hopped up and down. "My room! My room! My room!" She, Dani and Myron rushed off.

Campion said, "Steven Evans. How are you fitting in at this facility?"

"Not well," Stevie said. "But, most of them seem to be doing their best." He cut his eyes towards Bukowski and dropped them to the floor. Surette and Campion both noticed the look, but only Surette looked at Bukowski to read his reaction to it.

Campion simply didn't lose step, "And how do you feel about your best? Are you doing it?"

"I was put here because I killed somebody. I haven't killed anybody since, so I'd say that I'm at the very least not at my worst."

"Not at your worst is a pretty good start. Hopefully we can raise those goals."

"Being at a 'good start' a year in seems like a bad start, but if you have hope, who am I to crush it?" Stevie asked.

"Well, maybe you need a restart. Some of us require more than others. I'll talk to you soon, see if we can't get some bearings on that," he continued with his walk with the orderlies and Stevie turned to see Cheerio and the others waiting for him, curiously.

He met up with them, "Y'all know that nobody seriously lets the murderer just wander around without question, right? Expect spontaneous interrogations whenever you're with me. They're probably tryin' to figure out if they shouldn't throw my ass in juvie ward."

"They would have done it by now," Myron confidently said. "The sole purpose of Dr. Campion's presence is damage control and public relations. He hasn't had an actual official patient in years."

"He mentioned talking to me," Stevie said.

Myron paused and covered his heart with his hands, "As a doctor?"

"I don't know. Sounded like it."

"You are far less excited about this than you should be!" Myron told him.

"You're too excited, for somebody that's probably about to be dealt with as a conflict of interest. You did notice the slight dip in his eyebrows when he realized that you were a patient here, right?" Stevie asked.

"The slight dip in… No, I did not."

"It's his only tell, I think. He's super good at not reacting to things. Years in institutions, I guess. But, he had no idea that the Director of this building had a relative residing here and he probably doesn't like that."

Now, Myron covered his heart for a completely different reason, "Do you think that he'll make me leave? Or worst… make my uncle leave?"

Stevie shrugged his shoulders and flopped down on Cheerio's bed, glanced around and saw her leaving the room. Where the hell was she going?

Cheerio had been waiting for this day. And without access to a computer for personal use, she had to write each thing down twice, whenever she ran into an issue. This Dr. Campion could have one of those recordings. She went to find him and he smiled, when she approached, "Now, Miss Robinson. You told me that you would relax in your room."

"Yes! I am heading back. I just wanted you to have this. I am not so naive or gullible as to think that you will address every single line, or so ignorant that I don't realize that you already have your own list of priorities… But, also - you don't live here, and I do. I have for almost two years, now. That is a ridiculous amount of time to be in a place like this, made even more ridiculous by some of the things that I have recorded on these pages. I have another copy, for myself, but this one was for the first person who seemed to actually care that this place isn't too great."

He accepted the notepad from her with Where This Place Got It All Wrong written on the front. He smiled and nodded, "Thank you. Now, where are you heading?"

"Straight to my room, with the door open and gonna not break rules."

"Thank you."

When she left, Surette said, "She's pushy, but she's a good kid," at almost the same time that Bukowski said, "She is such a brat."

"She is a resident, and entitled to our fair and decent treatment," Dr. Campion told them.

.

This year, for Christmas, Dr. Pepper wanted the youth to do a Christmas presentation as their art therapy assignment. Cheerio designed and sent out an order for a Christmas cheer costume, with her name embellished in bling. It basically looked like one of those "Sexy Clause" costumes, with Cheerio across the back and she called her alter-ego "Christmas Cheer." She made cards for everyone and went passing them out, dressed up like that, to "spread Christmas cheer." Stevie wanted soooooo fucking badly to make fun of her, but her previous Christmas was hard and he couldn't abide tearing her down for trying to distract herself from the fact that her parents had been throwing money at her this entire stay, but she had not heard their voices nor seen their faces.

Dani organized a Christmas carol choir. They were awful, but she roped Stevie into singing a few songs, so at least they would have him and her able to sing.

Myron made protest signs that he would not be forced into celebrating Christmas. Dr. Pepper told him that he could do something Hanukkah related, but he said, "Protesting anti-semitism is a huge part of my culture and I want to focus on that tradition this holiday season."

Stevie refused to even do that. "I don't believe in God, Christ, Christmas, holidays, or presentations. Art therapy is supposed to allow us to express ourselves artistically. I can't do that if the theme is Christmas."

Dr. Pepper sighed, "You can do Saturnalia, if you want."

"I ain't pagan, either. I don't believe in none of that."

"You can do something that speaks about the falseness of it that you seem to be so passionately about."

"I didn't mean to seem passionate. I'm not. It's a bastardized holiday that was stolen during imperialism and has since been marketed for mass capitalization. It's fucked up, but I'm not passionate."

"What about doing something that shows how your family celebrates it, even though you don't?"

"No! None of this would be me expressing myself. If you just want an art project, I'll put on an impromptu puppet show about how you fuckin' insisted I create some bullshit, even though we aren't graded on this and it can't possibly affect my real life!" SO, she left it at that.

Whenever the families came on Christmas and saw their presentations, it was a beautiful gift to all of them. Stevie sat with his family and handed them all apology letters for how harsh he had been last time. That was the extent of his "presentation."

Dani and Myron were posted at the door, waving Myron's signs while a nurse stayed nearby to softly explain, "This is their artistic expression."

Cheerio had gotten her wax two days prior, and her costume was adorable, sexy, flirty, fun and full of cheer. Still, she just wanted to cry. She had been going around 'spreading Christmas cheer' and handing out tokens of appreciation. All that her parents had sent was this costume she asked for. She didn't even get a gift basket from them. She had made her face up and was clean and prettied… But, she felt so sad and lonely. Stevie didn't trust his family around her, because the few minutes that she was with them on Thanksgiving, she'd said too much and now she felt responsible for tension with them. She honestly didn't want to make it any worse, or even worse than that… have to be a part of it. So, she spent her time in her room, with the door open, pretending that she didn't see Nurse Sandy passing by casually (way more often than the rounds dictated), probably to make sure she wasn't in there trying to kill herself.

She only left the room so that Sandy could rest. She stopped at the protest and glitterbombed Dani and Myron. "Paraphernalia! Paraphernalia!" Dani howled.

Cheerio laughed and kept going. Stevie looked extremely uncomfortable and his family was kind of quiet. She went to the table, took a deep breath, readied her pageant smile and her cheery voice and cheered, with a giggle, "Merry Christmas Evans Family!"

Stacie's eyes went wide and she got up to hug her, "Oh my Lord, you are ADORABLE! This is so cute! And your pretty face. You are something else, girl. Did you do this yourself?"

"Kidding? They don't let me touch hot glue, or anything sewing related. I had to order it, but I did design it." She smiled brightly, feeling better with Susie Q's compliments.

"I brought you a gift," she said and handed her a gift basket of beautifully holiday decorated chocolate covered strawberries. "I was told it is definitely a thing that you would eat!" Stacie said, worried at Cheerio's pause. She had been craving them, but didn't want to ask for any, because she had asked for a lot in the past few weeks, she felt like and just wanted to write general stuff to her folks, instead of continuously asking them for stuff. So, she was gonna do without them.

"Got tired of your whining," Stevie said, hiding a smirk.

Cheerio shook her head, leaned over to him, put her mistletoe bracelet above their heads and gave him a lipstick print on the cheek. He turned so red that it almost blended in (wrong shade, though). "Thank you, Susie Q.I was really sad and this honestly made my day…"

"Cheerio!" Sandy sang out. She turned around and headed for the nurse.

She gave her some news that caused her to shriek, jump up and down and rush to the nurses' station. Stevie watched as they handed her an extravagant gift basket that he was pretty sure must have come from her folks, from her reaction. She could hardly carry it, so he said, "Be right back," and rushed over to try to help her.

Stacie looked at her own gift and said, "I guess he can give it to her, later."

"This from your parents?" Stevie asked, hoisting the basket up.

"Yes! I honestly thought that it would be like last year, where they did nothing and told me on the anniversary of me being here that they were trying to give me a year without them to find myself." He frowned. She gasped and suddenly remembered his gift. She rushed to go grab it, thanked Stacie again, and brought it to her room with the rest. She wanted to dive into it, but she remembered how down Stevie looked before she came to the table, so she went back with him to gather with his family. Stacie took a lot of photos and promised to send her copies of them. Stevie was extremely quiet, but at least seemed content.

Every Evans definitely noticed that he was much more grounded and relaxed after his gal was there than he had been earlier, and than he had been for their past visits. "Maybe your little darlin' should sit in on the visits every time," Dwight suggested.

Stevie scoffed, "She don't wanna do that shit." I don't even wanna do it half the time.

Cheerio smacked her teeth, "What are you talking about? This party was trash before I arrived!"

"This ain't no party," he reminded her. "It's a supervised parents day in the cafeteria, like we're in elementary school."

"You got your family. I got a freakin' basket."

"You got caviar for Thanksgiving. I can't even imagine what's in your Christmas basket."

"Caviar? Wait… Are you rich, Girl?" Stacie asked.

Cheerio laughed and cleared her throat, "My parents have a little money."

Stevie stole Dani's words, "You know that BIIIIIIG white house with all the different pink flowers all around it looking like in Alice in Wonderland when they paint?"

"Those were RED!" Cheerio and Stacie both said at the same time. "Thank you!" Cheerio said. "There's 16 different pink flowers growing there, if they've had the gardener keep up with them."

"I know that mansion," Dwight said. "The Robinson Estate, right?" She nodded. "So… You're not just rich, you're…" He nodded his head and raised his eyebrows. "Not to be a wet blanket…"

"Oh my God, please don't say nothing else," Stevie said.

"Just… Wonderin' what your parents think of Stevie," Dwight said. Stevie glared at him. The exact opposite of not sayin' nothin' else. "I mean… Your family is one of those families that can make or break this place, right? My son comes from a humble background and we're simple people."

"We're kids!" Stevie reminded him, "Nobody needs this what are your intentions bullshit, like we're gettin' married or something."

"We're just friends," Cheerio said, cheerfully. "Cornflake and I are friends until we get out, basically."

"Just friends," Stacie repeated, not convinced or impressed.

Cheerio explained, "Well, I'm the kind that wants to have a huge fancy wedding and children and a yard to sunbathe and dance in. Stevie wants no marriage, no kids, and to make movies. We're not even gonna date on our standards, alone."

Dwight furrowed his eyebrows and said, "You're back to talking about making movies?"

"I don't have a reason to go into real estate or property management, seeing as how I no longer am a puppet. And, I'm definitely not getting a baseball scholarship now, so I don't really have a reason or means to go to college. Might as well do something that I'll love and will probably be good at."

"He's an amazing script writer, and I've seen him make some pretty impressive puppet shows out of them." His family looked disappointed, so she kept babbling, "I think that he should write a book. I mean, just the ideas that he jots down for possible pitches are better than most of the novels I read."

"You read YA… That's not even a compliment," Stevie said.

"YA is one of the most top selling genres in the nation!" She defended. He rolled his eyes. She sighed and said, "Hey - they just wanna see you do well. And honestly, why not do some real estate ish? You know that's an industry that there's usually work in." She shrugged her shoulders, "My parents dabble in it."

"Is there anything that they don't dabble in?" Dwight wondered.

"Her life," Stevie said.

"Whoa!" Stacie snapped.

Cheerio bit her lip and stood up, "I think I've worn out my welcome. Merry Christmas, everyone." She gave Stevie a sad look and left the table.

"What is wrong with you? Wasn't the whole point of inviting her so that she wouldn't feel bad about her parents not being around?" Stacie asked.

"I honestly have no idea why I said that. There is seriously something wrong with me. I can't just BE nice to her. I have to cut her down every now and again, and I have no idea why."

"It's what you're used to doing," Sam said. "You're so accustomed to being hard and cold with certain people that it just naturally comes out of you sometimes. It'll go away once you're… better."

Stevie sighed, "I don't want to be this to her." Sam squeezed his shoulder. "When y'all started talking about her parents and I know that they would never EVER let her even sit at the same table with me, if they were around; I just got I don't know… Defensive, offensive, all of it. Why can't y'all just talk about benign shit."

"Well, things that might be benign can really impact people like y'all," Dwight said. "Son, you're fallin' in love with a girl whose parents would have a bodyguard tackle you if you got too close to their yard. I think it's worth thinkin' about the future."

"There's no future. You heard her."

Mercedes wondered, "Did that upset you? That she didn't even consider the future with you?"

"Yeah, I mean… She was telling the truth, but I guess I wanted her to have to think about it, at least. She dismissed it like I've seen her dismiss clothes that she thought were unstylish. Like, I'm some damn phase or something."

"Okay, but if you tell her that y'all are just friends, what is she supposed to do, pine after you? I swear, Stevie, if I was that girl, I'd tell everyone it's a hard pass, too! You run her around in circles! You cheated on her for MONTHS!" Stacie fussed. Stevie sighed. He was ready for them to leave. He was ready to go lay down.

Mercedes asked, "Stevie, what is it that you think makes it so hard for you not to be able to commit, one way or another?"

He glanced at Sam and then Dwight, then looked at the table. Stacie asked, "Hey… Daddy, Sammy.. Think y'all can start getting all these leftovers and stuff into the truck?" Dwight smiled tightly and started. Sam poked his lip out, wanting to be part of the gabbing with the girls, but pouted his way right behind his dad. "They're gone now, so…"

"I always feel like I have to perform some type of manhood in front of them."

"Why?" Mercedes asked.

"Because, he used to have to. Sammy and Daddy were both very… demanding of how Stevie expressed himself. But, I wanna know this too, because I HAVE to know why my twin is sabotaging himself when his option is this beautiful, sweet girl who has smarts and talents and seems to think the complete and utter world of you. What is it that's making it hard for you to commit?"

"It's a cocktail, Stace. It's portions of different things. What she said earlier was true. She wants a family. I think I have enough of that with y'all. I don't ever want to start my own. Then, I have to figure out for sure, for sure, that I HAVE a future, okay? Cheerio's started doing toe touches again!"

Mercedes looked confused, so Stacie explained, "A knee injury was the cause of her breakdown. Fix the knee, fix the life."

"She's headed out of here, and probably soon. She gets recognized for her growth all of the time. I'm… in more shit here than I was when I got here."

"How so?" Mercedes asked.

"I don't wanna get into that, but it's another barrier. Not to mention her money. Not to mention her race. Not to mention our personalities. Like… there is not one good reason for me to commit to this."

"So, why don't you just leave her alone and actually just be her friend, then?" Mercedes asked.

Stacie said, sympathetically, "Because, he can't stop himself from being in love with her." Stevie looked embarrassed at the table. Stacie offered, "Stevie, there's nothing wrong with admitting how you feel. Even if it's complete confusion. But, there's something wrong with lashing out at somebody that you care about because you're confused. She didn't deserve that and you don't deserve to ruin things for yourself."

"I know I would be wasting her time."

"Maybe not. Maybe things will change," Stacie said. "I thought you loved her when I first met her, and I know that you do, now."

"I will never confirm that," he said.

"You can't hide it from me, Boy. Who do you think I am?" Stacie asked. "What happened on Thanksgiving? When I caught you crying?"

He dropped his head to the table. "I did one of the most fucked up things to somebody that I was supposed to be friends with… She found out whenever she went to visit him for the holiday. She just wanted me to answer one question, How could you do that? I thought you cared about him, I thought he was your friend… I KNOW what she really wanted to know is if she could expect me to do something equally as awful to her, one day. I cried, I swore on everything, on Mama's grave that I never would… But," he picked his head up, "I probably might." He shook his head, "She forgave me for doing what I did, something I'm too embarrassed to even tell y'all, and I still talked to her the way that I did a little while ago. I am… one of the worst people…"

Mercedes said, "I don't think so. Stevie, when I met you, you called me an animal, was rude, said and did stuff to try to upset and hurt me… But, you also let me open up to you and whenever you got here, you automatically tried not to be the same person to me that you were when we met. You always seem to be battling that person that you think is so bad. That's how you know that you can't be that bad. If you were, you'd let that person win. You'd let that person rule. You try to silence that person, because you know that you could and should be better. To me, you're a good kid that's not doing as well with his second chance as he would like to, but you've got time, okay?" He reached for her hand and squeezed it.

.

Cheerio was still in that silly ass outfit, going through her parents' gift basket when Stevie knocked. She didn't even turn his way. She knew it was him. She knew that he was there to apologize and she knew that the same thing would happen later. She just skipped all of that and went right to hug him and squeeze him and said, "Don't say anything." It was simply too tiring to argue and run in circles with him. They were friends. Friends forgave. And he held her like she mattered, so even if he might talk to her mean for no obvious reason, she rationalized that it didn't matter, as long as he came back, willing to try to make it right, it would be.

"Wanna see the stuff I got?" she asked. He nodded, grateful that he didn't have to grovel, but also guilty that she just allowed him to be back in her good graces. I HAVE to do better. I have to BE better… for her… She was already on her tangent about all of the fancy stuff there and it's significance. She paused and stared curiously at him. "What?"

"I love seeing you happy," he said and shrugged his shoulders.

She smiled brightly and went to sit on his lap. "I love seeing you, whatever it is that I get from you that day."

"I'm trying to be better at being… consistent."

"I see that you're trying," she said.

"You know, you're not just my best friend… You're the best friend that I've ever had," Stevie admitted.

She hugged him, "That's mutual."