Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything from Joan of Arcadia. Just me having fun and passing the time.

Summary: Two jobs, summer vacation and a new boyfriend… How can one girl cope?

Author's Note: Alright. After a long hiatus, I have returned. I'm determined to get this story done for you guys. Here's the next chapter. Just to give a bit of a background. This does jump from person to person to show what is going on in each person's day, but it doesn't go together in time. It's all in the same day, but different times. If it's too confusing, I'll edit it for you guys. Just let me know. Thanks!!

Chapter Nine

Joan slammed the front door and dropped her bag down on the floor in the entryway, reaching up to shove her hair out of her face. She was glad that her shift was over, shaking her head in disbelief at all that happened in the few hours that she worked at the home.

"Hey, Joan… How'd your day go with the old folks?" Kevin wheeled into the room from the kitchen, a bag of chips and a can of cola resting in his lap. He tugged on the wheels, bringing his chair to a stop in front of his young sister. He could tell by her expression that it couldn't have been a good day, and he waited for her to erupt. He arched a brow when all she did was heave a huge sigh and storm from the room. "Must have been that bad…" Not wanting to push her and have her snap at him, he shrugged his shoulders and continued on towards the television. He grabbed up the remote and turned the T.V. over to a basketball game, quickly becoming engrossed.

Joan made her way into the kitchen that Kevin just vacated and peeked her head into the fridge. Since her mom left, the cupboards were emptying out at a rapid pace and no one was replacing the food. She made a face at the meager fair as she grabbed a can of soda and went to sit at the kitchen table and sulk. She lifted her head up where she had it rested against her open palm when her younger brother walked in, watching him dig around the cupboards for food. She watched him putter around before he finally looked up and realize that someone was in the room with him.

"Oh… Hey. How'd work go?"

"It sucked… I had to have a talk with Mrs. Johanon."

"Did she fire you?"

"No! She didn't fire me. She told me what my job duties entailed, and reminded me that although this time it turned out alright, I could have offended someone by my actions. How was I supposed to know that Phyllis was blind? I'm not supposed to know everyone's health problems. She just looked like she would have enjoyed participating. I mean, she was just shoved over in a corner by herself."

"Hey! I'm on your side.."

"Sorry… I just don't get what the big deal was. It's not as if I went out of my way to be disobedient or anything. It was a group activity… So, how are your plans going?"

"Things are going good… Too good. I'm wondering what is going to go wrong. It can't go off without a problem."

"It isn't going off without a problem. You have a problem, and the problem's name is Grace. You don't think she's just going to admit to being head-over-heels in love with you, do you? This is Grace we're talking about. At the most, she'll probably admit that she doesn't detest the sight of you…"

"Yeah, yeah…"

"Did –um… Did Adam call?"

"Not while I was here. You could ask Kevin."

"Yeah, thanks." Joan sighed, slumping back down in her seat, laying her chin on her hand. Twenty plus days left before the group was back from NY. It was the longest month that Joan ever had to endure, blocking out the time that Adam wasn't talking to her. She knew she could handle it better if she could have at least talked to him. She jumped up when the phone rang, pushing her brother out of the way to reach the phone before the second ring. She grabbed up the receiver, calling out a breathless hello.

"Hey, Girardi. Is Nerd Boy there?"

"Oh… Yeah. Just a minute."

"You okay? You sound a bit deflated."

"I just thought you'd be Adam." Joan gave a forced laugh. "Not that I expect him to call or anything."

"Haven't heard from him, yet?"

"No… You?"

"Naw, why would Rove call me?"

"I don't know… Here's Luke." Joan thrust the phone at her brother and then exited out of the kitchen to go upstairs to her room to sulk. She couldn't wait for school to begin.

"Hey, Grace. Are we still on for tonight?"

"Like I have a choice? It's either this or having you come over and make nice with the Rabbi." Grace grumbled into the phone, making it apparent that she wasn't looking forward to meeting up with Luke at all. In reality, Grace couldn't fathom why her heart was racing at the sound of Luke's voice, or why she was dragging out the conversation instead of getting him off the phone as quick as possible. She couldn't like him, could she? That wasn't her… Or was it. Whatever it was, she didn't like being confused and emotional.

"Sorry… But it was the only way I could get you to talk to me."

"Yeah. Well, don't forget your promise. I'll see you at seven. Later." Grace hung up before he could say anymore, wishing that her heart rate would go back to normal. She sat in her chair and stared at the phone with a perplexed look on her face. She wondered what she was getting herself into. She sighed and got up, going over to her closet to figure out what she was going to wear to this get-together. She had no idea what he had planned, but she had a feeling she wasn't going to like it.

Adam leaned up against the headboard to the hotel bed and stared down at the receiver listening to the busy signal. He sighed and hung up, knocking his head lightly against the flimsy wood in frustration. He was trying all day and evening unsuccessfully to get Joan, but either no one answered or it was busy. His eyes wandered the room and finally landed on the music box that he had got with Joan in mind. Inside it played her favorite song My Favorite Things and had a ballerina twirling in front of a small mirror. Unlike most music boxes found in the souvenier shops, it was well-constructed and had a soft, cream and pink lining – Joan's favorite color.

He smiled down at the gift, his thoughts centered on his girlfriend and all the little things that she did to make her the way she was. The smile slowly gave way to a frown of misery as he felt the loss of her. Things weren't the same without her around. She saw things differently than most people. She saw the things that he saw, and he loved that about her. She was his other, better half, and he liked to think that he was the same to her. He hoped that she missed him as much as he did her. This was one long month, and he couldn't wait until it was all over, despite the trip being such a good success and a great experience for any struggling, young artist. He should count himself lucky, and for the most part he did, but it was at odd times when he had to fight the urge to turn to tell Joan something and realizing that she wasn't there to hear it.

His thoughts ultimately drifted towards Iris, an uneasy feeling making his stomach clench. He had no idea why he felt uncomfortable when he thought about her, but something wasn't right. She seemed to accept that they weren't going to be together, but she seemed to take it too well. It made him wonder if she had something going on… He knew that when he was with Iris, Joan was more than interested in him. But although she didn't directly influence him in breaking up with Iris, it was because he knew that she cared as much as he cared about her that gave him the courage to break up with Iris. He hoped that Iris wasn't out to try to break him and Joan up. If it worked, then he would be devastated. If it wasn't for Joan, he wouldn't be the person he was – he was more alive than at any point in his life since his mother had passed away. Joan was his everything – his friend, his confidant, and the love of his life.

With those troubled thoughts in mind, he rolled over and closed his eyes, drifting into an uneasy sleep. He dreamt dark things that had him gasping for air – images of Joan running towards him only to be snatched away just as they were getting ready to touch hands. In the middle of the night, he sat up clutching his chest with sweat pouring off of him. Was that a premonition of things to come?