"Hey!" Juliette squealed, bursting into the girls dorm. "Guess what we got!"

The Cliffhanger girls were in the midst of idly playing cards when Juliette bounded inside the girls dorm.

"A ticket out of here?" Shelby asked in a cynical monotone.

"No...!" Juliette replied, grinning from ear to ear. "Mail!"

"What good is that?" Shelby muttered to herself.

"Just because no one would bother to write you doesn't mean you have to try to spoil the fun for the people who actually get mail," Juliette replied.

"What fun?"

Juliette ignored the remark. "Erika," she said, tossing a sealed envelope to the blond girl, "One for you." Juliette dished the next piece of mail also. "Kat, you got a letter too."

A strange look came over Erika's face when she heard that she had received mail. But she gasped when she read who had sent it. "Oh my god."

Juliette turned to her. "What?"

"Oh my god," Erika repeated, putting a hand over her mouth. She dropped her playing cards, and fled from the dorm.

The Cliffhanger girls stared at one another in bewilderment.

"What's with her?" Shelby asked no one in particular. Her response was a simultaneous wave of shrugs.

"Look, I got one from my mom!" Juliette burst out, giddily. "Oh by the way, did I tell you guys I'm visiting home next week? Isn't that awesome?!"

"Yeah, it's only the millionth time you've mentioned it today," Shelby replied sarcastically.

"We know, Jules," Kat responded, a hint of irritation in her voice.

"I wonder what it says?" Juliette said aloud, marvelling at her letter from home and ignoring the comments she had received.

"Read it," urged Kat.

Juliette opened the envelope delicately, and removed the letter. She read it, smiling. The other girls resumed their card game as Juliette read. "Oh, it's from Mom," Juliette interrupted. "She says she can't wait to see me! Isn't that lovely?"

"Fantabulous," Shelby replied nonchalantly, irritated with Juliette's antics.

"Ahaha!! I'm coming home! I can't wait!" Juliette squealed.

Shelby rolled her eyes. "I can't believe we're going to have to sit through this until she's finally gone. Can you think of a more cruel torture?"

"Shelby just because I get a weekend in my own home, in civilization, doesn't mean you have to be so jealous," Juliette replied haughtily. "Get over it, Shelby."

"Why don't you get over yourself?" Shelby asked, turning towards her. "Everything's always about you with you. You actually think I'm jealous? Are you kidding me?! It would be heaven on earth the day that I don't have to wake up to your face."

"You're so mean."



"Peter."

Peter glanced up from his desk to find a certain blond student standing with her arms crossed defiantly, and a certain look in her eyes. "Yes, Erika?"

She stared at her headmaster with a formidable glare. "What the hell is going on?!" she demanded.

Peter tapped his fingers on his desk. "You want to tell me what you're talking about?"

"This," Erika said as she presented the handwritten letter from her father. "Mom forwarded it to me or something?" her tone was incredulous.

"Yes. I had her do that."

Erika was dumbfounded. "Why?"

"Because I didn't see the harm in it, and it was addressed to you," Peter replied.

There was a short pause before Erika responded. "Can I mail him a response?"

"I don't see why not."

The look in her eyes suggested that she wasn't buying his words, a hint of suspicion. She gave Peter a look. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Erika, profanity," Peter reminded her.

"No," Erika opposed. "I fucking deserve to know!"

"Know what?" Peter questioned.

"Why the fuck you're being nice to me!"

"Erika.." Peter began, exasperated. "I'm guessing you'd contact him whether you had my permission or not."

Erika shrugged.

"And he is your father, that you haven't had contact with him your entire life stumps me, to be honest. I don't know how your mom convinced the court to have full custody of you. Usually, when a child's father is in jail, the court still orders the child to visit him."

"My mom's fuckin messed up. Who knows what the fuck she told the court," Erika stated.

Peter blinked and awaited her reply.

"So I can really send him a reply?"

Peter nodded. "That's right."

Erika was at a loss for words. "Wow,"she managed, "Thanks, I guess."

"Head off," Peter instructed. "It's almost lights out."

Erika smirked. "Yeah, whatever."



Erika headed outside, but not towards the girl's dorm. It was dark, but the moonlight provided sufficient light. She sat down on a picnic table, and read the letter from her father over and over again, trying to make something of it.

After a few long minutes, she found that she had a visitor, who came and sat beside her on the picnic bench. None other than Adrian Garret.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him. "It's lights out."

"I know. But so do you, and you're here," he stated. "What are *you* doing here?"

"Reading," she replied vaguely.

"*What* are you reading?"

"A letter," she said finally. "From my dad."

"The one in jail?"

"It's not like I have any others."

"Oh."

"We've been sending letters back and forth for a long time now. My mom had no idea until this baby," she began, pointing to the letter in her hand, "fell on her doorstep. Amazingly," she continued, as if still confounded, "she forwarded it to me."

"Hmm," Adrian responded.

"Peter convinced her to, I guess. I'm kind of amazed she didn't just dispose of it," Erika said, marvelling at the letter in her hands.

Adrian grinned. "Peter, the miracle worker."

"Yeah really," Erika agreed. "That he can get my mom to do anything, is a feat in itself."

"Yeah."

"I guess I have some explaining to do, explain to my dad why he has to write to me at a different address," Erika chuckled. "Now I have to figure out what I'm going to write back. Peter said he'd actually allow me to do it, too. Pretty crazy, huh?" She turned to Adrian. You know, you never told me what you were doing here."

"Take a wild guess," Adrian replied, grinning, the answer was so blatantly obvious. In his hands, was his handy sketchbook.

"Sketching," Erika guessed easily.

"You must be psychic."

"It's practically dark, though," she commented. "How can you even see what you're doing?"

"I can see enough with the moonlight. There's more light out here than in my dorm."

"Yeah. That's what I'm doing out here. I don't know what I'm going to say to Dad," Erika said.

"You want to know something?" Adrian said suddenly.

"Maybe."

He turned to her. "I'm amazed you even speak to your father."

"Why?" Erika asked, as though his words were inconceivable. "He's still my father."

"Yeah, but he committed a violent crime, right? Or rather, three."

"I don't give a fuck about that. He said he didn't do it," Erika replied fiercely. "Honestly Adrian, I don't know what to believe. I didn't even know he was in jail until a few months ago."

"Whoa. Your mom must have really kept you in the dark."

"Yup, not even in view of a speck of moonlight."

"Want me to help?" Adrian asked.

"You want to help?"

"Sure."

"Here," Erika said as she tossed the letter to him. "Read it."

"Let's see. 'Dear Erika, It's not what you think, kid.. It's not what you think. I know this has to be hard for you to understand, and I know it's weird coming from a man you haven't seen in what has seemed to me a lifetime, but it's even worse for me. My life the past few years have been the hardest of life in entirety. I'm sorry that you couldn't get to know me, the real me, and not just projections of what you must hear. I'm sorry for that. But thank you for writing. It means the world that you didn't forget about me, even though your mother has. She's not a bad woman, she just doesn't believe anymore. Write back soon. Signed Darryl Lavalier'

"Well first you have to tell him where you're at," Adrian opined.

"Yeah, I've got that much figured out."

"Here," he said, ripping out a paper from his sketchbook. "Just write what you feel and the words will come."

She looked at him like he was crazy. "I'll try."

Erika put pencil to the paper. She racked her brain, and began writing. *Dear Dad. You'll never guess what I've been up to the past few days. Mom shipped me off to this boarding school/summer camp that's more like bootcamp than anything. It's called Mount Horizon. I became too much for her to deal with. I guess we both know that it doesn't take long for her to lose faith in people. Rules are strict here, and I don't heed any of them. It's been interesting to say the least. So you gotta write me at the new address that's on the envelope.*

"Here, what do you think so far?" she asked, showing Adrian what she had written so far.

Adrian read it intently. "It's good," he replied. "But now you gotta respond to his words."

"I don't know what to say, or how to say what I want to say. I've never been very adept in writing."

"You don't need to be a professional author to dish out a reply."

"I wonder what he looks like," Erika wondered aloud, idly. "If I ever see him, I bet it'll be like staring into my own eyes. I know I don't have Mom's eyes. I don't look anything like Mom. I just have her hair."

"Your father must be very good looking if you inherited most of your features from him."

"Adrian. You say one more thing about my looks and you know what's coming."

It was his turn to look at her like she was crazy. "You're not like any girl I've ever met."

"See, *that's* a compliment. Shut up about my looks. I hate them," she dismissed, and tried in vain to continue her reply to her father's letter.

"Why?"

"Doesn't it piss you off when the only reason people like you, or look at you is because of your looks? I want people to respect me not because of my looks, but because of who I am. Do you understand that?" Erika asked him, not even bothering to conceal the irritation in her voice.

"So you really think your looks are a burden?"

"I just like to let people know there's more to me than my looks."

"I see."

"I still don't know what to say to my dad," Erika reminded Adrian.

"Well what do you feel?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to believe. I've never even met the guy, so how should I know if I should trust what he says? Maybe he *was* framed. And maybe he's just making flimsy excuses. How the fuck am I supposed to know?"

"You can't- it's impossible to know. Tell him what you told me."

"That I don't know whether to trust him or not?"

"He deserves to know the truth. It's better than you having absolutely no faith in him."

"I dunno." Erika's gaze crept over to Adrian's sketchbook, now opened. "Hey let's see your drawing."

He handed her the sketchbook. "Here."

"It's gorgeous," Erika assessed. "How'd you learn to do that?"

"Practice."

"Yeah?"

"Tons of it. Draw is all I do. If I don't, I go insane."

"I guess it's amazing where passion can take you. I still have yet to find mine."

"What?" Adrian asked, wondering if he had heard correctly.

"You know, something I'm really passionate about, something I can't live without."

"I'm just lucky I found mine early on," Adrian replied.

Erika stared out into the distance. "I can't stop thinking about my dad. I would kill to go see him."

"So would I. I'd kill to see my dad, too. Except it's totally impossible since he's dead."

"You've never even seen pictures of him?" Erika asked.

"I have this picture of him in my stuff. It's a small picture, with him and my mom together. That was true love. You can tell what they feel for eachother just by the looks on their faces. It's kind of hard to look at honestly, especially since they're both dead. But I guess they're together now."

"Yeah, they must be. I don't even know what my dad looks like. I've always felt there was something missing in my life," Erika sighed. "It's so depressing to miss something you never even had."

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

"It's times like these that I wish I really was numb, that I couldn't feel all the emotions inside. I guess I never really was numb, but drugs made me feel like I was."

"You were a user?" Adrian asked.

"Yeah. I reached a point in my life where I just didn't care anymore, about anything," Erika explained.

"How? How can you give up in a world as beautiful as this?"

"It's easy. Life sucks sometimes, that's all there is to it."

"Listen, Erika. You know what I think of life? I'm thankful for everyday of it. Life is a gift, but you'd prefer to live it numb?" He sounded confounded, and bewildered.

"You didn't have to live through what I did, Adrian," Erika said. "Don't pretend that you know me, Adrian, or my situation. You don't, nobody does, and nobody ever will."

"Why? Why do you have to keep it all bottled up?"

"It's called pride, Adrian. What the hell do you care anyways?"

"Maybe I care about you."

"You barely know me, let alone care about me."

Erika fled from the scene, with Adrian glancing after her, trying to discern her form in the darkness.



Erika reached the girl's dorm. She put her hand to the doorknob, to walk inside, when it flung open unexpectedly.

"Shelby," Erika confronted, seeing that she had planned to escape from the dorm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Outside," Shelby answered. Sarcastically, she added, "Where do you think, Sherlock?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Erika added her own cynicism in her words, "I mean, it's not like you sneak out every single night."

"And where were you?" Shelby asked.

Erika replied in the same mocking tone that Shelby had. "Outside, Sherlock."

"Get out of my way, Erika."

"I hope you get caught."

"Hope all you want, get out of my way before I make you."

"Chill," Erika said. "Get your temper under control, girl."

"You're trying to lecture *me* about *my* temper," Shelby's tone was incredulous. "Right. That's a great one coming from the queen of temper tantrums."

"You don't know me," Erika stated.

"Don't pretend like you know me."

"Who's pretending?"

Shelby rolled her eyes with irritation. "Get out of my way."





Shelby smiled as she approached the docks. Scott was already there. She could discern that brooding form from a mile away.

"Hey beautiful," he greeted her with a smile, taking her in his arms.

"Hey handsome," she responded, smiling. His smile was infectious.

"How are you doing?"

"Mm, better now."

"Good."

They leaned towards one another in a passionate kiss, that ended with Shelby stroking Scott's face.

"What did I do to deserve you, Scott?"

Scott was momentarily taken aback by her words. "What?"

"Are you for real?"

"Shel.." he said, holding her in his arms. "What are you going on about?"

"I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

"Nah," Scott replied, smiling. "I'm the one who's lucky."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. Course. You don't think I'm lucky, Shel? To have you?"

"I never thought anyone would ever understand, you know, about my past," Shelby began. "And then you came into the picture. And that night of the morp, you could have gone on with your life but you came back. To me. I am the luckiest girl in the world Scott."

"Hey Shel, it's okay. I never thought anyone would ever understand my issues, either you know. I just thought I'd keep it all inside and no one would ever know. But then you came along and turned my world upside down."

"But in a good way, right?"

Scott grinned. "Yeah. Course, Shel."

"I love you, Scott, so much."

"I love you too, baby."

Their lips met, and it was a nice pause before Shelby turned to Scott with a certain look in her eyes. "Do you ever wonder what'll become of us?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean like, we're graduating in a few months."

"I'm not losing you Shel."

"Good, because I'm not letting go of you."

"That's fine by me."

"So what do you think?"

"About what?"

"When horizon comes to an end for us, and we have to go out in the real world. The real world, Scott."

"We'll worry about that when we get there, Shel. I couldn't leave without you the first time, and I don't intend to leave without you when our graduation comes."