In an almost blind rage, I storm to my room and shove whatever I deem necessary into my backpack. Phone, charger, wallet, hoodie, deodorant and my musical note necklace. I fling the strap around my shoulder and make my way towards the front door. Just as my hand touches the knob, I hear the sound of the creaking floor once again. I close my eyes, breathe a sigh and turn around, ready to have my head chewed off by my mother. I'm flushed with relief when I see that it's Stan, but I still end up gulping from the anxiety. "Y... You're not going to tell mom... right?" Why do I even bother to ask this? Of course, he's going to tell mom. He's at her every beckon call 24/7 and practically worships the ground she walks on. But then... why would he tell me where to find the other letters? Maybe he was just trying to get on my good side and never thought I would actually do anything with it. If that were the case then, he's stupider than I give him credit for.

He stares at me for a long time with a tired and apathetic look on his face. I stare right back at him, trying desperately to read his mind. He finally breaks his concentration by glancing down the hallway but then goes right back to me. "Tell your mom what, exactly?" He says in the quietest of whispers and with the smallest of smiles. In this instant, I have the utmost respect for this man. I smirk, solute him, and walk out the door.

I don't have a plan. I don't know how I'm going to get there, or how I'll manage to even convince my dad to let me stay, but I'll be damned if I don't try. I pull out my phone and start to look up Carter's name, but I stop myself. The events that took place last night made me realize that he doesn't give a shit about me. I was merely his toy. He was bound to break me... and he did. So, boyfriend's out of the equation, what now? I could take one of the cars. We do have five of them for no apparent reason. How in the world does Stan make so much money making tubes of toothpaste? Whatever. I hop in the Wrangler, open the visor for the extra set of keys and begin my journey.

17 and a half hours gives you a lot of time to think. My father and I haven't seen each other in 11 years. We're both completely different people than we were back then. How do I expect this to go? He could very well have a whole other family. A new wife, a couple of kids, maybe a dog or a cat running around. I mean sure, I'm his first daughter and of course, he would want to keep in contact with me, but how naive is it of me to think he hasn't moved on? In my eyes, he was everything a good husband should be. Surely, some other woman has snatched him up. On one hand, I would love nothing more than for my father to be happily re-married. He deserves for someone to love and respect him in the way my mother never did. But, on the other hand, I hope he hasn't moved on. I want to show up at his door step and be the only thing on his mind. No other distractions. Just him and me against the world.

What am I even going to do when I get there? Obviously, the first thing on my list is to see my dad. But what then? If things go well, should I seek out Dez, Trish and Austin? Is it also naive of me to think that they're still there and are all still friends? I know things won't go back to how they were in Kindergarten, but wouldn't that be neat if they did? If everything was just as I left it? If I could jump back in and hit the play button? Perhaps it's all wishful thinking...

And my mom. Holy crap. If my mom does the opposite of what I expect her to do and she actually care... What'll happen then? Will she go all the way to Miami and demand I come back with her? Will she hide me away and lock me in a tower until I'm 34? Okay, maybe she won't do that... But... I wouldn't put it past her, either.

I've been going off of adrenaline for 6 hours. I need sleep. I pull off, get the hoodie out of my backpack and recline my seat as far as it'll go. I have slept in my car before, so it's nothing new. However, it is a little bit harder to shut your brain off when you're in a sketchy gas station parking lot in Ardmore, Tennessee at 4 in the morning...

4 hours later and I'm back on the road. I'm getting so anxious now. My thoughts are starting to turn from positive to negative. What if my dad gets one good look at me and then pushes me away? What if he doesn't actually want me? I've struggled with the feeling of rejection almost my entire life. If it didn't come from my mother, it came from my classmates, and my music teacher and my boyfriend. They all expected me to be one thing. And when I proved to be something... someone different, they tried to change me or just walked away from me entirely. I don't think I'll be able to take it if my own father rejects me.

After passing the Florida state line, I take one last look at the address he wrote down in the top left corner of the envelope. It's my old address. He never moved. And for some strange reason, that makes me happy. Just one more thing that ties me back to my happy place. When I finally turn onto his street, I'm taken aback. Everything looks the same but simultaneously different. I guess that's what age does. I remember these surrounding houses to be so much bigger than they actually are. I thought we lived in a neighborhood full of mansions.

I pull up into the driveway, beginning to freak out. I don't think I've ever been more nervous than I am right now, nor have I ever been so vulnerable. I take a giant gulp, throw the backpack over my shoulder once again and reach for the handle of the Jeep. It's now or never, Ally. My mouth starts to get dry and I hear my heart beat louder and faster with each step I take towards the door. Beads of sweat start to form at the top of my forehead and my stomach ties itself in knots. My clammy hand makes a fist, shaking its way up to the door. 3 knocks. 20 seconds. My heart now drops to my stomach, watching the door knob shake as he unlocks it. The hinges screech out, letting everyone in the neighborhood know that Lester Dawson is out of WD-40. He and I make eye contact for the first time in eleven years. Tears begin to flood my vision. I open my mouth in an attempt to tell him who I am, but I begin to get too overwhelmed. I'm in way over my head. Why the hell am I even here? Why am I forcing myself back into this man's life?

Before another thought has the opportunity to enter my brain, I'm engulfed in... probably the most loving and meaningful hug I have ever experienced. "Ally." He says just before kissing the top of my head.

A smile emerges onto my face as my arms fly around him. "Hi, dad." A sense of relief and calmness washes over me. This is everything I hoped it would be.

He finally breaks our hug and grabs the tops of my shoulders. "What on earth are you doing here? How did you get here? W-"

"I can explain everything."

And so, that's what I did. He opened up his door, offered me his famous pb&j sandwich and listened. Actually listened. Not just halfway heard the words that were coming out of my mouth, but took to heart everything that was being said. I told him how much mom distanced herself from me once we moved. I told him how people would make fun of me for not knowing what snow was. I told him about Stan and how mom is essentially just a gold-digger. I told him how I started to do anything for attention. I even told him about the other night. About stealing and running from the cops and getting arrested. I word vomited. And I've never felt so good.

He's quiet. He looks heartbroken. I'm sure it's a lot to take in from your estranged daughter. I'm sure he feels almost helpless. "A-Ally, sweetheart... I'm so sorry I was never there for you." He scoots closer to me on the couch and takes my hand in his. "I wish... I wish I had the chance to take it all back and right my wrong."

Right his wrong? "Dad... What exactly happened? Why did you and mom get a divorce?" Part of me doesn't want to know. Part of me believes that if I find out the truth, the reason mom took me away, then I'll lose that little sliver of hope I have. The hope that there is actually some good that runs through my veins. The hope that at least one of my parents cares about me. I'm terrified that if he tells me what really went down, I won't be able to look at him with the same admiration I do now.

He closes his eyes while he takes in a deep breath. I can tell he's pretty scared to tell me, too. "I had a gambling problem, Ally." His eyes flutter back open and stare straight at his now twiddling thumbs. "It started back in high school. A group of guys and I would meet in my buddy's basement every Friday night for poker. It started out innocent, with just the chips and some of our snacks here and there. But as time went on, we got bored with that and went to betting actual cash. Granted, we didn't have a lot of it since we were only Sophomores." He chuckles ever so slightly, remembering back to, what I would guess, how he was able to get all the money he did. "Anyway..." He interrupts his pause. "Your mom gave me an ultimatum when we started dating. I either keep her and quit while I'm ahead, or lose her and have my parents find out, which would in turn put me in Military school. So, I gave it up. And I was happy. Your mom was... she was absolutely wonderful. In every sense of the word. However, things started to change fast. I think I got way too overwhelmed with life and gambling was a good distraction. Not to mention some income if you're good at it. We had just bought the house, I was in between jobs and you were on the way."

And that's when it hit me. It's my fault. I'm the reason my dad was pushed over the edge. I haven't even heard the rest of the story and I already know the ending. I try my best to hide the anxiety that's welling up inside of me, but I obviously don't do such a great job. My dad quickly takes my hand, looks me straight in the eye and assures me that it wasn't my fault.

"Ally, it was bound to happen. It's an addiction and I was already in too deep. You were the reason I stopped again. You were the reason I never picked it back up." I feel an overwhelming amount of comfort. Not only in my dad's words, but in his voice and his actions. Gosh, why wasn't he the parent that raised me? Why was I deprived of such a loving human being? "Your mom wasn't aware that I got back into it. She thought I was off job hunting... I hate myself for lying to her, Ally. I lied to her for four months straight. It all hit the fan one night, though. I lost. $500.069. That's when reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I was practically throwing my life out the window. I had to change. I had to be a dad worthy of my baby girl's love. The thought of looking into your eyes the day you were born and you seeing the man I had become killed me. So, I made a vow and I stuck to it. Your mom found out a couple weeks later when we received a statement from the bank. We had a huge fight and she ended up staying at your aunt Sophia's for a couple of days. But, Ally, you changed everything. The moment you were born, something clicked in us. We both promised that we would do whatever it takes to keep our marriage strong so that you could have something to look up to."

Now my emotions are turning into resentment. For both of them. They made such a selfless decision because they cared about how I grew up. At what point in time did I become a burden rather than a priority? When did they stop fighting for me? Why couldn't they keep their own damn promise? I want to interject. I want to yell. I want throw a tantrum to show just how much they screwed me over. How I can never get back the amount of time I lost being shoved to the sidelines by my own mother. The amount of times I got jealous of all the kids in my class that had both their parents. The amount of times I wished I was never born. But I'm compelled to stay silent. Why should I ruin the small relationship I've already built with my dad? He listened to me. The least I could do is listen to him.

"I was finally able to find steady work while your mom stayed home with you. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to support the three of us, considering I wiped out a good portion of our savings. So, when you were about 6 months old, we put you in daycare and your mom got a job. She began to be the one with the steady income. My company ended up closing and laid everyone off. While I was in search of another job, I would do yard work for the neighbors every once in a while. It wasn't much but it did pay for your 4th birthday present."

I giggle as the image of a pink Barbie bike is pulled from the back of my memory. That, aside from the moment my dad gave me my necklace, was one of my favorite childhood memories. I squealed as loud as I possibly could and hugged it in pure joy. Dad smiled as he picked me up and started to show me how to ride it. For hours, all he did was chase me up and down our street.

"Anyway, to make an already long story a bit shorter... I couldn't hold down a job for more than 2 months. Your mom was amazing. She got a second job and still managed to do laundry and spend time with you. Your dad... I was a dead beat. I guess I had lost faith in myself. That's the only way I know how to put it. Your mom hit a breaking point when she saw $1000 had been withdrawn from our account. Our debit card had been hacked but she wouldn't believe me. And I couldn't blame her. I lied to her before. I could easily do it again. She lost what little trust she had in me."

I stand to my feet out of frustration. "But, you said you hadn't picked it up since before I was born! What happened to that promise?"

"Circumstances change, Ally. But the heart behind that promise didn't. Your mom didn't see me fit to help raise you. And, again, I couldn't blame her. I wasn't even capable of being able to afford a bag of frozen chicken nuggets. Sure, your mother's reasons for taking you away were different than mine, but I agreed with her. I wasn't worthy of you. I thought your mother could give you a better life than I ever could. I was weighing down your mother and, in turn, weighing you down."

I feel like my heart is being stabbed in 15 different places. What about the day she took me? What happened then? Did he know? Did he not even want to see me? Did he fight for me? The hot tears start to burn my eyes. "Why didn't you say goodbye?"

"Believe me, honey, I wanted to. More than anything. You were the only light in my life and you were being taken away from me. But... the evidence was too much in your mom's favor and they granted her full custody. I guess she took that as absolutely no contact. I didn't even know you two were gone until a couple hours after you had left. I broke down the moment I walked into your room and noticed you weren't there. You weren't sleeping soundly under your Blue's Clues sheets. You were gone. I have never felt more empty than I did that day. And... as horrible as that day was for me, it changed me. I got my act together. I started a job at this music company, saved my money and worked my way up. I tried for years to get in contact with your mom. I tried to explain how ready I was to be in your life again. But she refused and eventually blocked my number completely. My only other hope was to try to send you those letters." He looks into my eyes, beginning with the sincerest of smiles, but then slowly fades into a gloomy frown. "I do wish things had been different. I wish I knew she was going to keep them from you. I wish I knew how she turned on you. Gosh, Ally. I would have given my life to keep you if I knew all that."

Part of me wishes I never asked. But the other part? It's happy. Proud even. If my dad can live through what he did and end up redeeming himself, why can't I do the same? Why do I choose to roll in self pity, trying to get myself in trouble to feel any type of attention? I take one good look at my dad before I hug him as tight as my arms will allow. Yeah, I'm proud. I release the hug and wipe away the tear on my cheek. "So, do you still work for that music company?"

He smirks and tells me to get in the car. "Do I still work for that music company? Ally, I own that music company."