Peyton sat staring at the walls of her classroom. The last bell had long since rung. She had taught two classes that morning, although probably not that well. Her mind had been elsewhere, miles away from her classroom, that was for sure. The kids had been able to tell as well. Finally, she let them draw free hand, whatever they wanted, without a grade. She tapped her pencil idly as the minutes ticked into hours.

Her phone rang and she dug in her bag for it. Great! No Caller ID.

"Mr. Langdon, whatever it is Jenny did this time…"

"Peyton…um, hi. This isn't Mr. Langdon."

Peyton narrowed his eyes. It certainly wasn't.

"Who is this?"

There was a sigh and then a long pause from the other end.

"It's Ellie."

Peyton cringed. Of all days, the last thing she needed was to hear the voice of the woman who had given her birth then abandoned her.

"How'd you get this number?"

"I just wanted to talk to you. I was worried."

"Don't call me anymore. What part of I never want to speak to you again, don't you get?"

Ellie sighed.

"I know you're angry, Peyton, and that's your right. I understand it. Maybe we can't be friends and you're not ready for a relationship but this whole thing with you hating me…well, it really sucks."

Peyton rolled her eyes.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Ellie but your feelings aren't upper most on my list of priorities right now. Good bye…"

"Peyton, wait! Please. I won't bother you anymore but I just wanted to know you're alright. I was talking to your dad and…"

Peyton laughed out loud.

"You were talking to my dad? Just great, Ellie. You two discussing what to do with your unruly little girl? Give me a fucking break! It's a little too late to try to be a parent now…or at least be honest about it."

"I'm sorry. I just…"

"Look, I can't deal with you now. Why can't you understand that? I am not interested in striking up a relationship, being your friend or even talking to you. I don't want to hear your excuses or your apologies. All I want is for you to leave me alone! I don't see what the big deal is, you did it for over 20 years! Why stop now? So don't try to see me or write me or call me again!"

With that, Peyton hung up the phone and tossed it in her person. She grabbed her head as it began to pound. She hadn't noticed the person standing at her doorway.

"Peyton, are you okay?" came a small voice.

Peyton looked up. It was Amanda Marshall from her freshman class.

"I'm fine", the teacher winced and sighed. "Um, come in. What can I do for you?"

Amanda hesitantly approached the room

"Uh…you told me I should stay after one day and show you my portfolio. I brought some stuff in but I guess this is a bad time. I'll come back…"

"No. No, it's okay. Um, have a seat. Please."

The girl did and flipped open the album.

"Are you sure you're okay? I could get you something…"

"No. It's alright. I just get these stupid headaches every once in a while. There's nothing you can really take for it. They kind of have to pass on their own."

"You mean like Migraines?"

"Yeah but worse."

"I used to get those, too a lot, especially when I was little. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. The pain is already starting to pass over."

"I guess it didn't help whoever was on that phone."

"Excuse me?" Peyton looked up.

Amanda brushed and looked away.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't eavesdropping or trying to be nosey but I heard you on the phone. You sounded pretty upset. I know that can bring the headaches on."

Peyton sighed.

"No. It's okay. I'm just going through some things."

"You have a husband?"

"Yeah but that wasn't him."

"You have kids?"

"I have a stepdaughter. Her name is Jenny. She's almost 12."

"You don't look old enough."

Peyton smiled.

"My husband started young. Um, we've been together for years now and he used to have custody when she was a baby, then her mom took her. We just recently got her back."

"That's cool."

"What does your husband do?"

"He's a sports trainer for the Miami Hest."

Amanda's eyes grew wide.

"You mean like Shaq and Dwayne Wade and Alonzo Mourning and Nathan Scott?"

"Yeah. You know your basketball players. You a big fan?"

She shrugged.

"I watch it on TV. It just seems kind of cool. Have you met them?"

"Yeah. They're nice guys. Actually, Jake and I grew up with Nathan."

"Wow. That's really cool. I knew that Mrs. Scott was supposedly his wife."

"Yeah. I've known them since our North Carolina days. They're good people."

"It must be nice, you know to have lifelong friends like that."

"It is. What about you? Did you grow up in this area? You must have a lot of friends around here."

Amanda sighed.

"I kind of grew up everywhere. My parents died when I was little. I don't have any other family. I've been in foster care ever since."

Peyton closed her eyes. Amanda was such a beautiful and sweet girl. And smart too. It was a sad story.

"What about your foster parents now?"

"They're okay, I guess. Arlene and Steve. They have a bunch of other foster kids. It gets kind of crowded sometimes. I guess I can't complain. I've been in worse places, that's for sure."

"Are they nice to you?"

"Sometimes", she said softly. "The kids are okay and Steve is nice. Arlene is too, she just has a temper. Like lots of things get on her nerves and she'll just have this dramatic blow up ever so often. You kind of get used to it."

"Maybe things will change. Maybe they'll get better. Who knows, you might even find a nice family to adopt you."

Amanda laughed out loud.

"Like that will ever happen. Most families only want newborns or infants. They aren't exactly looking for 14 year olds like me."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'll deal. I have all these years. You just suck it up and go on. Besides, it beats another one of those group homes."

"Sorry. I, um, I hope it all works out for you."

"Thanks…so, uh, my drawings", Amanda tried to change the subject. "What do you think?"

"I think they are very, very good."

"Thank you. Not as good as yours though."

"I don't know. We all have our own style, I guess. You ever taken a class before mine?"

"No", Amanda shook her head.

"I'll tell you what", Peyton said as she leafed through the portfolio. "The University offers courses to high school students. It's a really good program. You get to work with professional artists and tour museums and overall just enhance your observation skills. If you don't mind, I'd like to submit your name."

Amanda smiled.

"Really? You think I'll get in?"

"Maybe. We won't know until we try."

"You…you think I'm good enough?"

"Yes, I do", Peyton smiled.

"Wow. That sounds really cool. Um, I don't know if Arlene and Steve would be able to drop me off and pick me up and stuff. We only have one car now and it's so many people."

"Not a problem. This is a wonderful opportunity. Let's just get you signed up and if they accept you, then leave the details to me. How does that sound?"

Amanda grinned and hugged her teacher.

"Thank you. I mean it, Peyton. That's really cool of you. No one's ever offered to help me out like that. It means a lot."

"You just keep working hard and applying yourself. Everything else will fall into place."

Amanda nodded as she looked at the clock.

"I have to go now. I can't miss my bus…"

"Okay. Um, I'll see you tomorrow bright and early in class. Don't be late."

"I won't", Amanda beamed as she grabbed her things and made her exit.

Such a nice girl, Peyton thought. Everybody had a story it seemed like. She sighed and began to gather her own belongings. In a world where so many things were going wrong, it was nice to know there was still one person she could touch. It was one bright spot amidst the many growing clouds.