Seth had once asked her, "So, is 'More Than A Feeling' like, a really momentous song for you now? Does it makes you cry? Like how everyone has that really cheesy Clapton song about looking wonderful tonight as their wedding song and it's so lame and they cry and buy it on vinyl and digitally remastered greatest hits and everything. Is that what it's like for you? Do you close your eyes and slip away? Hide in your music, forget the day? Cause, you know, so many people have come and gone. The faces fade as the years go by. As clear as the sun in the summer sky?" He had shrugged as she laughed.

"You know way too many of the lyrics."

"It's more than a feeling, Mom, what can I say?"

"It's hard to have a special place in your heart for Boston, sweetie, but, yeah. It's a lost cause. I kind of have to at least appreciate it." Seth offered another shrug.

"They're still the tenth best-selling album of all time. Could be worse."

"Not much," she replied, grinning. She was thinking about it now as she sat in her room watching the single light still on in the pool house. The moment he arrived at her door with his stoned accompaniment she knew that he was both the most romantic and twisted person she would ever meet. She loved him to death for this.

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He left early for work, really early, and she sat dismally in front of a cup of coffee. Plans for a future model home were spread out across the table to distract her front the fact that Sandy wasn't tromping in with his surfboard or sometimes some stolen flowers from the Cooper's garden or a really good latte. Always with some endearing Brady Bunch greeting that made her feel like the most loved person alive. She still hadn't been able to disprove this theory—that she was, in fact, loved more than anyone else on earth. Sandy was pretty damn fond of her. Well, that was safe to have said yesterday. Now she wasn't so sure. She stood up with a sigh and got her car keys. This was way too depressing.

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Her father greeted her with a cocky,

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed!" She smiled tightly and pointlessly arranged some papers.

"Why do you say that?"

"You look tired. You're grumpy when you're tired."

"I'm neither right now, actually."

"Full eight hours?"

"For me it's always been a full four. And I am not grumpy when I'm tired." She hated that she sounded about eight years old. Caleb grinned.

"I know my little girl too well, huh? What's going on, Kiki? Trouble with the Sandman?"

"No, it's fine," she replied a little too quickly.

"Aha!" He planted himself in the chair across from her. "Another woman?"

"No, Dad."

"Oh, dear God, I knew it all along...another man?" She rolled her eyes.

"There isn't another anything."

"So the Sandinator isn't satisfying you in the—"

"Oh, my god, please don't finish that sentence. Ever." He laughed dismissively.

"I'm going to if you don't tell me what's bothering you." She sighed.

"Rough week, Dad. I'm fine."

"The little delinquent left, didn't he?" As though she needed reminding.

"Yes. Yesterday. Don't call him that."

"I don't see why you're so upset, Kiki. The kid was no prize. I'd be happy to have him off of my hands."

"That was...an unbelievably insensitive thing to say," she replied, her voice soft but obviously quite angry.

"Come on, Kirsten. He was, at the very least, a disgrace to this family. You know that as well as I do." She stood up, furious.

"He's a good kid, and he's a member of this family."

"Kirsten, he's a criminal!"

"He's a child!" she said. "And he's already a hell of a lot better man than you've ever been." He looked as stunned as she felt.

"Go home, Kirsten," he said gruffly. "You're clearly not ready to be back here."

"I'm sorry, Dad," she apologized frantically. "I don't mean that. It's just...a rough week, like I said. I'm worried about Seth and I just—I'm sorry. This is affecting me a lot more than I thought. I've just got a lot on my mind. I'm so sorry." He walked around her desk and gave her an uncharacteristic hug, smoothing her hair.

"Day off, Kiki. Early dismissal. Go on. Vamanos. Before I decide to fire you." She smiled at his distorted attempt at a joke.

"Thank you, Dad."

"I'll see you tomorrow," he kissed her head. "Bright and early."

All right...after reading over this I realize that my attempts at witty banter might be misinterpreted as my pitching Boston. As a good band. Um, yeah. No. I'm afraid not. I hope that was not how it sounded. I learned the best-seller trivia in Spin. And the lyrics, well...it's just a fucking catchy song. So that's all I'll say. ;) Review anyways, even though I'm such a loser?

xoxo, Claire