Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Quickly written and not beta'd, so all faults are mine.

I said "Thank you." I knew it wasn't enough, but it was all I could manage.

I wanted to say "You're the best people I've ever known."

I wanted to tell them about the dream I had last week. It was graduation, and I saw them waving from the bleachers as I got my diploma. We had a party in the backyard. We took pictures in our caps and gowns. Seth fell in the pool.

I wanted to tell them that I had been researching Berkeley on the Internet. That I was thinking of applying for a scholarship.

I didn't want to walk in the kitchen with my bags packed. I wanted to walk in the kitchen and ask where Kirsten had ordered takeout from.

I wanted to ask Sandy to take me to the driving range.

God help me, some part of me even wanted to go to a stupid Newport charity function.

I wanted to tell them I felt safe here. That every morning I woke up, the first thing I thought of was having coffee and cereal in this kitchen.

She offered to learn to cook, for me. As if everything that she had already done wasn't enough.

When she hugged me, I didn't want to let go.

I said "I think we'll manage."

In that moment he was just like Kirsten. Offering to do more, when, in the first three days I had known him, he had done more for me than anyone had done for me my whole life.

I wanted to tell him to call Summer and Marissa, tell them we would all ditch school tomorrow. Tell him to grab some sandwiches and I would steal a bottle of wine from the rack. We could sail to Catalina and lay in the sun all day, be back by dinner.

All I ever wanted to do was protect him. I would throw myself in front of a train if it meant that he would be safe. Because he deserved it. He was earnest, and passionate, and smart. He shouldn't have to deal with the things that I've had to deal with. Am dealing with.

After all he had given me, all I offered him was that map.

I wanted to give him that map so he could be free of it all. My drama, the Newport drama. Take Summer to Tahiti like he had always dreamed.

But he threw it on the table, and he wouldn't look at me.

He wouldn't even fucking look at me.

I wanted to rip the headphones out of his ears, throw the iPod out the window. Anything to get him to look at me.

I wanted to say, "Let's plan that trip to Europe." I'd even agree to Vespas, if it meant he'd look at me.

But he wouldn't, and all I said was, "See you then."