APRIL

In the morning, I'm confused as to how my bed got to be so comfortable over the course of one night. The sheets are fresher, the pillow softer, and the light comes from an entirely different side of the room. Someone's fingers dance over the bare skin of my back - which makes me wonder not only who they belong to, but why I'm sleeping shirtless. I normally wear a t-shirt to bed.

But then, as goosebumps wake me up, I remember where I am and who I'm with. I'm not in my own bed, but Jackson's. I'm shirtless and wearing a pair of his boxers that sit low on my waist, and his room gets much more sunlight. My eyelids flutter against it, opening to slits to find him already awake. "There you are," he says, voice raspy with sleep.

"Mmph," I say, shutting my eyes again while pressing my face into the pillow.

That doesn't deter him, though. He scoots closer and brushes hair off my face, off of my neck, so he can caress my skin. "So, you love me, huh?" he says.

I roll my eyes behind the eyelids, but my lips pull into an involuntary smirk. "I'd love you more if you let me sleep," I mutter.

"I already did," he whispers, moving his hand lower. Now, it's in the middle of my back near the dip of my spine. "I've laid here and stared at you for long enough."

"That's creepy," I say.

"Not when my girlfriend is this beautiful," he responds.

"Mm, I'd love to meet her. Maybe later, when I wake up."

"You are such a lazy-ass," he laughs. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"You figure that out while I take a nap."

He laughs again and I can't hide my smile, either. "So, how was your first night here?" he asks.

Yesterday was the day we reunited; all three of us. Seeing them made me happier than I'd been in a long time – once I accepted the fact that they both have a huge claim over my heart and stopped putting up a fight, things fell into place. After the cemetery, we went out to dinner and Athena asked me to spend the night - and because of that, there was no way I could say no. I didn't want to, anyway. The three of us watched a movie and after she went to sleep, Jackson and I had time for ourselves. "Good," I say.

"Sleep good?"

I nod and say, "But you snore."

"You hogged the covers," he says.

"Shut up," I say. "You loved it."

Surprising me, he cups my jaw and draws me closer until our lips are touching. And when we pull apart, I open my eyes right into his. "Finally," he says. "Those pretty eyes."

Even with a closed door, I don't feel totally secure knowing Athena could wake up at any minute. So, I kiss him before padding to the bathroom to get dressed and when I come out, I have on a pair of pajamas with my hair in a bun, teeth brushed. "You should do the same," I say, acknowledging him in his nearly-naked glory.

He's lying on the bed, hands behind his head. "What, you don't like it?" he jokes.

I pull him up and playfully shove him towards the bathroom. "Get dressed," I say, smacking him on the ass. I roll my eyes playfully. "I'm gonna go wake up your daughter."

"She'll get up on her own," he says. "You don't have to worry."

"I want to, though," I say. "I remember on Saturdays, my dad would wake me up and we'd make pancakes. You think we could do that today?"

"You are so fuckin' cute," he says, toothbrush in his mouth. "Sure."

"Okay," I say excitedly. "I'm gonna go get her, then." I cross the hall to Athena's room where the door is still shut. When I push it open, I see her just waking up, eyes still bleary and half in a dream. "Hi, beautiful," I say, a big smile on my face. I walk to her bed and climb in, crawling under the warm covers. "Mind if I snuggle with you for a little bit?"

She blinks slowly, rubbing her eyes with one fist. "Why?" she asks.

"I don't know," I say. "'Cause it's Saturday and we don't have anywhere to be."

"Okay," she says, inching closer.

I tickle her back and listen to her breath even out, having fallen back to sleep with me beside her. I kiss her forehead a few times, though, and she comes back. "Did you have good dreams?" I ask.

She slides an arm around my waist, pulling herself in. "I dreamed I lived inside a big, huge piano," she says. "I could see the strings moving when people played the keys."

"Oh wow," I say. "That sounds like it could be scary."

"It wasn't," she says, running the fabric of my t-shirt between her fingers. "Did you have a dream? And did you sleep with my daddy?"

"I did," I say. "And you know what?" She shakes her head. "He snores. So loud."

Her shoulders bounce as she giggles, then she presses her face against my chest. "He snores!" she says, her voice high-pitched and light.

"Like a train," I say, smiling. "And I might have dreamed something, but I can't remember now. Maybe it'll come later. But you know what? We're gonna make pancakes this morning."

"Pancakes?"

"Yep," I say. "And they're gonna be the best pancakes you ever tasted."

…

After we've eaten and our bellies are beyond full, Athena and I sit at the piano while Jackson works on the couch behind us. "I need a new song," she says. "All the ones I play are too easy."

"Okay…" I say, mentally flipping through the classical pieces I know by heart. "Well, let's see. I have one that might work. It's by Rachmaninoff, and it's called Prelude in G, Op.32, Number 5. Alright?" Athena nods and I take a deep breath, prepared to play the quick, quiet song. My fingers dance over the keys as I concentrate on perfection, and once I finish, she's nodding.

"I can do that," she says, then does it perfectly.

"I don't think I'll ever get over it," Jackson says from behind us, and I shake my head in disbelief.

"I want another one!" Athena says excitedly. "That one was easy. I learned it fast, it was too short."

I pinch my lips and move them to one side, stumped. "Well…" I say, trailing off. "I don't know how much I can help, baby. Learning new songs will take me a while."

"Oh," she says, frowning as she slumps. "Why?"

"Because most people aren't like you, genius," I say, tapping her on the shoulder. "We have to take time to learn music. Your brain is so quick and smart, we can't keep up."

"Oh."

We're quiet for a bit as she stares at the keys and I look at her profile. "Have you done any thinking about what I suggested?" I ask. "About taking lessons from a professional; someone who would challenge you?" She turns to look at me, interest piqued as she listens. "If you took lessons from someone who's trained, they wouldn't let you get bored," I say. "You would learn new pieces all the time. You could learn from someone better than me."

She leans over and hugs my arm with both of hers. "No one's better than you," she pouts.

"Well, I just mean with the piano," I say. "They would know more than I do. I'm stuck in my ways and I don't have much more to teach you. You're already ahead of me, just like I said you would be. I want you to keep getting better; I want you to be better than me."

With her head resting against my upper arm, she sighs as she thinks. "But…" she begins. "If I took lessons from someone else, would you still play songs with me?"

"Of course," I say, squeezing her. "I'm never gonna stop doing that, are you crazy?" She tips her head up and smiles. "And maybe," I say, eyes wide. "You could start teaching me the things that you learn. Then I could be the student."

"I could teach you," she says eagerly. "I would be a good teacher for you, I think."

"I think so, too," I say.

"Daddy," Athena says, swiveling around to look at him. "I wanna take lessons from a genius like me."

…

I stay at the Avery house for the rest of the weekend, doing nothing and loving every second. We spend Saturday in our pajamas, watching movies, baking and researching piano teachers. On Sunday, we go to the farmers market to buy fresh fruit and vegetables, and Athena picks out beautiful flowers for Myla's grave. We head to the cemetery after and she lays them herself, claiming they'll make it pretty as the stone takes a while to fix.

On Monday, she insists I take her to school. We have to walk since Jackson uses the car to get to work, but we make it fun. Unlike before, she doesn't fight every step of the way. It's a walk we're familiar with, but now, it looks different. Brighter. Happier. Made new.

"Bye-bye, April!" Athena calls from the top of the school steps. "My daddy is gonna pick me up, right?"

"Right," I say, leaning on the railing. "But you'll see me tonight. Remember?"

She gasps theatrically. "We're coming to see you sing!" she enthuses.

"That's right," I say, then catch her before she turns to walk inside. "Hey!" I say. "I didn't get to hug you." She trots down the steps quickly, shiny Mary-Janes clicking along the way. When she reaches the bottom, she jumps into my arms and wraps her legs around my waist, squeezing tight. "Have a great day," I say, kissing her cheek as she lifts her head.

She giggles and kisses mine back. "I love you," she says, looking into my eyes.

"I love you," I say, tapping the tip of her nose. I set her down and then call after her: "See you tonight!"

…

I barely got any sleep this weekend, so what I'm looking forward to as I unlock the front door to my apartment is taking a long, heavy nap. I'm not on shift at Uncommon Ground today - something that isn't great for my wallet, but good for my morale. I tell myself to worry about it later.

But I'm surprised when I walk inside because, counteracting the silence I thought I'd encounter, I hear noises coming from Steph's room. At first, I'm on edge, wondering if someone might have broken in during the long weekend I was gone. But my nerves are soon calmed as she comes into view, peering cautiously around the corner like she thought I might be an intruder as well. "Oh," she says, relieved. "Just you."

"Yeah, you scared me, too," I say, one hand to my heart.

"Sorry."

"No, it's fine," I say. "You live here. You're allowed to be here."

"Right," she says. "Just… sorry for scaring you, I mean."

"Oh," I say. "Yeah. Right. Sorry for scaring you, too."

"Well, you live here, too."

I chuckle nervously, awkwardly. "Yeah. Right."

"It was cold in here when I came in," she says. "Radiators must not be on yet."

I roll my eyes. "I'll call the landlord. Not like she'll do anything, but…" She laughs and I smile - it's good to see her. The familiarity of her face makes my chest warm, like sitting next to a fire on a really, really cold day. She's always had that ability; the ability to make me feel like I'm home. I stand in the hall for a long, drawn-out moment, wringing my hands as my mouth opens and closes like a fish. She watches and waits, though, patient as ever, until I finally find the words. "I miss you," I say, and feel lighter instantly afterwards.

Her shoulders deflate immediately, muscles losing all tension and rigidity. I walk down the hall and linger in the doorway of her room, eyes on her, unsure of how close to get. "I miss you, too," she admits, shaking her head. "I've been having a really, really shitty time. And the only person I wanted to talk to about it was you. The one person who I couldn't talk to."

My chin quivers - of course, I'll cry. There's no question about it. "Can I hug you?" I ask.

"You don't have to ask," she says.

So, right away, I wrap my arms around her. Tight, too. I squeeze her shoulders and press my forehead against the front of one of them, sniffling while trying to hold back my tears. "You can always talk to me," I say, voice muffled by her shirt. "No matter if we're pissed at each other, a thousand miles apart, or… or whatever. We're best friends, Nor."

"I felt like I couldn't, though," she says. "When I yelled at you, the look on your face…" We pull apart and she wipes the moisture off her cheeks, blinking towards the ceiling to stop her tears. "It was awful. I felt like such an awful person."

"I never thought that," I say.

"You could've," she says.

"I was confused above anything," I say. "I just wanted to talk it over with you."

"I felt too weird to talk about it," she says, avoiding my eyes. "Honestly, it still feels weird."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because… don't you feel weird? Knowing what I feel and like, being here? Hugging me?"

I shake my head, eyebrows furrowed. "No," I say.

"I don't know how you don't."

"Because I know you," I say. "And your feelings aren't creepy."

She blinks and a few tears fall to make streams down her cheeks, creating shiny rivulets on her skin. She frowns, shakes her head and says, "It just all came out of nowhere. Like, I didn't always feel this way about you. I don't want you to think that… I was like, grooming you or some shit. Or stalking you and waiting for you to be single so I could, like, pounce… or something."

"Steph," I say. "I would never think like that."

"Okay," she says forlornly. "I just wanted to make sure."

"No," I say softly, taking her wrist. "I couldn't think of you like that."

"It's just that…" she begins. "I've had all these shitty relationships with guys. They all fuck me over or turn out to be complete losers, and I'm just so tired of it. You know?" She sighs. "When I'm with a guy, I feel like they don't see me for who I really am. I don't feel like anyone does - no one except for you. And I think that's why these feelings started developing, because you make me feel safe."

I nod slowly, listening to what she's saying. "I know what you mean," I say. "You make me feel safe, too. You always have. When I moved here and met you from that random ass ad you tacked up in Starbucks."

"I could've been a killer for all you knew, you fucking freak," she whimpers, but it makes us both laugh.

"But I get it," I say. "That safe feeling. When I left my dad and came here, I thought I was gonna be friendless forever. But you showed me otherwise. I've never had a friend like you. Not ever, in my whole entire life. You just get me. And you call me out on my bullshit when I need it." I take a deep breath. "I should've been there for you; I should've known something was wrong. I shouldn't have kept secrets about Jackson, and I'm sorry. I know that hurt you."

She shrugs. "I overreacted," she says. "It's because I was feeling all those things and… I don't know. It felt like you were kicking me to the side for him."

"I'm sorry," I say. "I really wasn't trying to do that. But I promise, I won't do it again."

"I make you feel safe, too, just like you do for me," she says, recalling what I said. "But… you don't feel the same kind of way about…"

"No," I say gently.

"Just making sure," she says.

"Do you think you might be bi?" I ask, treading lightly. Discovering my sexuality was tough for me, and I did it all on my own until Izzie came about. I still have no clear idea of what I'm doing, so I'm not sure how much of a help I'll be to Steph, but the least I can do is be a listening ear.

"I don't know," she sighs. "I don't know if it's just like… a "you" thing, or a "girls in general" thing. It's confusing."

"Yeah," I say. "It is."

"You figured it out with Izzie, right?" she says, and I nod. "Yeah, I don't know. I might be… but I don't really want to put a label on it, if that makes sense? It just feels weird."

"You don't have to do anything you don't wanna do," I say. "It's your business, not anyone else's."

"I wish this wasn't happening to me," she says. "Everything was easier before."

I laugh a little. "Life is messy. That's how it works."

"Yeah, but feelings for your best friend messy?" she asks. "You must feel so weird being around me."

"Steph, I really don't," I say. "Do you feel weird being around me?"

Her eyes dart everywhere, unable to land. "No," she says. "Not necessarily. Just… I don't know. It doesn't feel like it used to."

I frown, concerned. "Does that mean you want to stop being friends?" I ask.

"No," she answers instantly. "No, no, I don't want that."

"Good," I say. "Because that would really wreck me."

"No," she says. "I just… I don't really know how we're… I'm… gonna navigate this. The feelings will probably just fade with time. Maybe I'll meet someone else. I'm just gonna try to not think about it and hope it all goes away."

"Or you can talk to me about it," I suggest.

She takes a deep breath, indecisive. "I don't know if that's the smartest choice," she says.

"Right," I say, pressing my lips together.

"I just need time to figure it out," she says. "And I don't wanna take a break from our friendship or anything, I want to still hang out, but…" She sighs. "I think I need to move."

In that moment, my stomach drops to my feet and I lose my breath, unable to think of anything to say for a few beats. "You…" I stammer. "Really?'

"It'll make things easier," she says. "I promise, I don't want us to be distant. I just think it's the right choice for where I'm at right now. I don't wanna lose you, April, but I need to figure myself out."

No one understands that more than I do, so I don't have an argument against it. My heart breaks at the prospect of not living with her anymore, though - I've grown so used to it, I'm not sure how I'll fare without her. But that's my problem, not hers. We can't be so codependent where she makes choices depending on what's best for me. She has to think about herself and her mental wellbeing, and her heart as well. If this is the best option for her, then she should do it. I can't help but worry about money, but as long as she finds a subletter, it shouldn't be a problem. I can figure this out. Just because she's moving out doesn't mean I'm losing her; she said so herself. "Okay," I say. "I understand."

"You do?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say. "I want what's best for you and what's best for our friendship, so yeah. If that's what you gotta do… you should do it."

"You aren't mad?" she asks.

I shake my head and say, "Steph, no."

"Good," she says. "I was worried." She pauses then shifts her weight, looking at me with a curious expression. "Where were you all weekend, by the way?" she asks. "I've been here since Friday night."

"Oh," I say, chewing the inside of my cheek. I told myself that I don't want to hide things from her anymore, so the next step is to lay everything out in the open and hope she doesn't judge me. "Um… I was at Jackson's."

"Jackson… as in, your boss?" she asks, and I can tell she's trying to approach the subject with an open mind.

"Not anymore, no," I say. "Um, I quit working for him."

"You quit nannying?" she asks. "Why?"

I run one hand through my hair and feel my face heat up. "Because I fell in love with him," I say. "And Athena, too, but… the problematic part was that he and I fell in love. Um… we're seeing each other now. It's serious."

"Damn," Steph says, an incredulous smile working its way onto her face. "Damn."

"I know, it's weird," I say. "But there's so much to the story that you can't see from the surface. Like, Athena is a piano prodigy. Seriously. Any song I play, she'll hear it once and be able to mirror it perfectly. I've never seen anything like it. She's amazing. And she lost her mother - you know that. We had a hard time for a while, but I think we've really started to bond over our similarities now. It's almost comforting, I think, for the both of us. And Jackson, well… Jackson." I can't help but smile - so wide it hurts my face. "I'm not gonna go on and on and on because that's annoying, but he's just really great." I meet her eyes. "You would like him, I think."

"I'd like to meet him," she says, surprising me.

"You would?" I ask, eyebrows up.

"Yeah," she says. "If they're important to you, they're important to me."

"Oh," I say, blushing for a new reason now. That wasn't what I expected at all - for her to approve. My heart feels fluttery, like a sense of hope renewed. "Okay. Um... well, they're gonna come to The Whistler and see me sing tonight. I-I hope that's okay. If you wanna come… um, to sing, of course, you should. But, um… maybe to meet them, too? That would be really cool."

"You can stop stuttering," she says, punching me lightly in the arm. "I'll be there."

…

I'm used to singing on stage. Before I go up on normal nights, I'm calm, cool and collected. It's not typical of me to get nervous, but this is not a typical night. Tonight, Steph, Jackson and Athena are in the audience, waiting for me. They're sitting together at a small, round table, and I can see them from where I'm standing. Athena is facing forward, presumably watching for me, but Jackson and Steph are having light conversation. I'm dying to know what they're talking about and it's making my hands sweat. If I don't calm down, I'm going to make a fool of myself out there. And last time was mortifying enough. I'm not doing that again.

So, before I step onto the stage, I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. Then, I do something that I've been preaching but haven't actually done myself in a while. "Hi, Mama," I whisper, barely moving my lips. I know she can hear me, though; she always can. "I need you to be with me for this one. I'm so nervous and I don't wanna mess up. Just tell me it'll be okay, and I'll feel better."

Of course, no one talks back. But I know it isn't my imagination when warmth washes over my shoulders like a wool blanket, encompassing me like a hug on a winter's day. I know it's her. I don't need any other validation.

"Please welcome, our very own April Skye!"

My knees wobble as I head out, but I strengthen once I'm under the lights. My smile is uncontrollable, knowing who's watching, and my grip on the mic is confident. "Hey, everyone," I say, looking around. "I'm April Skye, as you probably know. And I'm gonna be singing Our House." I flash one more grin and cue the music, then let it overcome my senses as I build my voice to sing. "I'll light the fire, you place the flowers in the vase that you bought today... Starin' at the fire for hours and hours while I listen to you play our love songs all night long for me, only for me... Come to me now, rest your head for just five minutes... Everything is good... Such a cozy room, windows are illuminated by the evenin' sun shines through them, fiery gems for you, only for you... Our house… is a very, very, very fine house. With two cats in the yard, life used to be so hard... Now, everything is easy 'cause of you."

There are tears in my eyes once I finish and I think I know why.

…

"So, are you gonna tell me what you and Steph talked about earlier?" I ask Jackson as we're lying in bed that night.

He's lying on his side, spooning me from behind. I'm facing the window, tracing the veins on his hand while listening to his breathing deepen as he gets closer to the rest I won't let him take. "Hmmm…" he murmurs, already half-gone. "April, what?"

"You heard me," I say, playing with his fingers. "I want to know what you and Steph talked about."

"I was just sleeping."

"You wake me up in the morning, I wake you up at night," I say. "It's fair."

"It's not fair," he grunts. "I wake you up with kisses and you wake me up with questions. Nowhere near the same thing."

"Just answer."

He sighs deeply and I smile to myself, amused. Before responding, he tightens his arm around my waist and I arch my back, deliberately pressing myself against him. "Don't," he warns.

"Answer," I say. "I'm nosy."

"And a night owl, too, apparently," he says, then concedes. "We didn't talk about much. She told me a little about herself, where she's from and all that. How you guys met. I told her about me, had an awkward conversation about how me and you turned into what we are and… yeah. That was basically it. Then, we watched you sing. I already told you that you sounded beautiful. Can I sleep now?"

"You're so old," I gripe playfully, tucking a foot between his ankles. "But yes. Go to sleep, grouchy."

I close my eyes as his body slackens, growing heavier around mine as sleep takes him. I feel restful but not tired as I lie there and let the day pass through my head benignly. Before long, though, just as I'm about to succumb, I hear soft footsteps in the doorway - socks padding on the carpet heading towards my side of the bed.

I prop myself up on an elbow, instinctively nervous. "Athena," I hiss, whispering through the darkness. I see her little shape in the inky room, clutching her favorite bunny - whose name I learned just the other day is George. She walks closer, and as she passes the window her face lights up with light from the moon. It's clear she's barely conscious. I'm not sure she even knows where she is. "Thena, honey," I say, touching her arm to avoid a confrontation like last time. "I'm not Mommy."

"I know," she murmurs, her voice as tiny as she is. She crawls into bed slowly, one knee at a time, and folds herself against my body. With only George between us, she sighs deeply and relaxes, whispering one last thing before falling asleep. "I wanted you."