Thanks for the positive feedback:) I hope I have you all interested now! This chapter came out differently than I had hoped, but I couldn't seem to rewrite it any differently, so I promise it'll get better from here on in. And don't you worry you Spinelli fans, I promise he'll have his proper place in this story.

June

Lulu

I was watching my Grey's Anatomy DVD's when Tracy came barging into my room. She stumbled slightly, hiccupped, then stood in front of my TV with her hands on her hips. It was the middle of the afternoon, but she smelled like scotch.

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm watching here."

"I can see that. In my house."

Tracy and I had been getting along reasonably well for months. But she didn't look pleased with me, and I didn't have the energy to fight with her. I had spent all morning at Sonny's coffee shop, where I was training to be their new barista. I had started at five-thirty- believe me, I was just as shocked to find out that it came twice a day- and my back hurt. I had hoped to have an afternoon with McDreamy, McSteamy, and possibly a bowl of McIce Cream. No McTracy. Okay, so maybe it was time to stop watching. But that didn't change the fact that I didn't feel like dealing with Tracy.

"It's not your house. Besides, I live here."

"I've noticed. And eat here. And have your friend- Spaghetti? Spumoni? Stratelli? No, wait, Spinelli. . . Spinelli? You have him over."

I sighed and gave up on my show. "What do you want Tracy?"

"Nothing. I don't want anything from you. Or from you father."

"What does he have to do with this?"

"I just hope you're very happy that your mother has once again managed to come between me and my husband."

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing. I'm not saying anything. I just don't want you to cause me any more trouble while he's gone."

Gone? He was gone again? He left, without even saying goodbye to me? I resisted the urge to get emotional and pretended I knew all about it.

"Don't worry Tracy, I won't be causing any more trouble for you." I wasn't holding up as well as I thought I would, so I quickly cut out of the room and charged out of the house.

He was going again. And he didn't tell me.

Again.

I didn't have any plan for what I wanted to do after I left. My head was spinning. I felt like everything had broken apart at once, even though it was nothing new or surprising. I took off running from the Quartermaine's house, then slowed down to a jog by the time I made it to Kelly's. I looked in and found Georgie talking and laughing with Dillon. I didn't want to face any of them. I didn't want to deal with anyone. Eventually, I found myself on the Pier where I had to rest with my hands on my knees to try and catch my breath. This was definitely not my best idea. I needed a bottle of water. Or a hot fudge sundae. Probably the hot fudge sundae more though.

"Hell of a time to go for a run, Princess."

I looked up, shocked. My dad was walking towards me, a smile creeping across his face.

"Dad? Tracy said-"

"You didn't think I'd actually leave without saying goodbye to my little girl, did you?"

I faked a smile. "Of course not. I just didn't expect to see you, that's all." We looked at each other, neither really having anything to say to one another. "So. . . you're really leaving again?"

He nodded, his smile fading. "I'm sorry Princess, I need to."

"Why this time?"

He sighed. "The ruling came out on your mother's guardianship this morning."

"Don't tell me Scott Baldwin got it."

"No, no, no judge would be that stupid. But I didn't get it either. I just need some time to. . . regroup."

I nodded, faking sympathy. "Of course."

"I'm sorry to just leave you like this."

"Don't worry about me dad. I'll be fine."

He smiled. "I know you will." He kissed the top of my head and held onto my shoulder. "You take care of yourself, Lesley Lu. I'll be home soon."

And then it came, the moment in which my dad looked the most like the dad I had known my entire life. He walked away.

I felt sick, and my legs were giving out on me. I struggled to sit down on the docks, now that my muscles were starting to tighten up. I was going to be sore as hell when it came time to finally go home, but I didn't care.

Home. Ha.

Where the fuck was that supposed to be?

Over the past year, something had been happening to me. Something good, I think. Or something that's supposed to be good. I stopped keeping things inside so much. And instead of going and doing something totally self-destructive like getting drunk or trying to hurt someone else, I thought about it and what was bothering me. I cried sometimes. But it hurt too much to do that when it came to my dad. I couldn't deal with him being gone every time I turned around, when I needed him. My mom was gone, but my dad could have been with me. He just chose not to.

And as the sun started to go down over the pier, so did my mood. The anger that I had been feeling was starting to dissipate, leaving just sadness behind. I sat in the sun for what probably was hours. My butt went numb, and my muscles tightened as the temperature dropped and the breeze blew in, but I didn't move. And in what seemed like an instant, the anger was gone, and only I was left behind. Crying. I wouldn't allow myself to move or make a sound, but I needed to let the tears fall.

"Lulu?" a male voice asked from behind me. The runner that I had heard behind me had stopped. I pretended that I was pulling my hair back and tried to wipe my eyes.

"Milo, hi." There he was, all 6'2 of him, flushed and sweaty from his run, slightly out of breath, and with his iPod strapped to his arm. He quickly pulled his ear phones out and crouched down beside me.

"What's going on?" he asked softly.

I couldn't look at him. The tears that I had so carefully and casually tried to wipe away were back, and I didn't want him to see. "Milo, I'm sorry, I know I told you that I would make my decision about which of you I wanted to be with soon but I can't think about it now. I'm sorry." I was rambling and didn't make sense. I really didn't care. I didn't want to deal with them and their crushes, not now.

He stood up, stretched his legs slightly, then sat down beside me, just close enough for our shoulders to touch. "Forget about that for now. It's not important. What's going on with you?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing. I'm fine." Again, I smiled a pretend smile. "Go enjoy your run." I turned back to the water.

Instead of leaving, he slowly tucked the hair that kept falling into my face behind my ear. "Lulu. . ." he whispered.

"My dad left again." I turned to him to see his reaction. I couldn't read what was going through his mind. "I know. . ." my voice cracked, the tears starting again. "I know I'm supposed to be grown up and I should be used to this, I mean, he's been doing this my entire life but. . ." I broke off, sobbing silently.

Milo put his arms around me awkwardly, since we were still sitting beside each other, and I lowered my head to his shoulder. I tried to calm down, but him being so nice about it just made me want to cry harder. He brought one hand up to stroke my shoulder, allowing me to bury myself deeper into him, then pressed his lips against my forehead. "Just because you should be used to it doesn't make it any easier."

I pulled myself together and pulled back from him, just far enough that I could look at him. I had never noticed how soft his eyes were before.

"I'm sorry. . . I just lost it on you there."

"It's okay." He slowly stood up, groaned, then offered me his hand to pull me up. I let him and I groaned louder, my muscles having stiffened. I just stood there watching him.

"Come on," he finally said.

"Where?" I asked, never taking my eyes away from his.

"You look like you're in serious need some ice cream."

"How did you know?" I asked as he took a seat on the same couch as me as passed me a bowl of ice cream. It was a deep bowl, not the little wimpy diet kind that most people were so fond of. He had filled it with big round scoops, chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, melted peanut butter, strawberries, and dark chocolate chips. The boy knew how to do ice cream right. I took a bite and grinned.

"Know what?" he asked, taking a massive bite and swallowing it immediately. He quickly grimaced. Ice cream headache.

"That this was what I needed?"

"You mean other than your love of the triple chocolate lattés and brownies at the coffee shop?"

I laughed. "Okay, I guess that would give it away." I put my bowl down and tried to cross my legs. They refused. "I guess impromptu runs in the middle of the afternoon without stretching aren't such a good idea, huh?" I pivoted and brought them up onto the couch so I could turn to face him.

"Well, running in flip-flops at any time isn't such a good idea. Here." He slid his hand underneath my right calf to bring it towards him. He stopped suddenly and looked at me in horror.

"Is this okay?" he asked tensely.

I laughed again. "It's fine. Just. . . what are you doing?"

He was slowly rubbing circles over my calf, heat radiating from his hands, making me feel all tingly. "When you exercise, your muscles produce lactic acid. When you're done, you stretch to try and distribute the acid instead of letting it build up, which is what makes you sore. So I'm trying to heat up your muscles so that you can stretch it out.

I found this gesture even more thoughtful than the ice cream. "How do you know all this?"

"I have my undergraduate degree in human kinetics."

"Really? Where did you go?"

"Nowhere important."

"Where?"

He blushed. Actually blushed. "Columbia."

I felt my jaw drop. "Wow. Do. . . I don't want to come off as bitchy or condescending or anything but. . . do you mind if I ask why you're just working for Sonny?"

He smiled. "That's the wrong question."

"What?"

"Everyone, and with good reason, believes that I work for Sonny out of necessity. Most of the people who know me figure it's because I didn't get into med school."

"But?"

"But they're wrong on both counts. I graduated top 10 in my class and got into med school. But I figured out that I didn't really want to be there. My mom had wanted me to stay away from Max and his job and all of that, and I had tried to go in another direction. But I realized that I wanted the life that Max had. I mean, I could have been a doctor but. . . I want a life, I want steady hours. I want to be able to get married and have kids." He had stopped rubbing my leg and was just looking at me now. I shivered.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just cold."

"Sorry, there's something wrong with the air conditioning, it's always freezing in here. And hot in the winter." He got up and leaned over me to try and pull a sweater out from under the pillow I was leaning against. Before he had a change, I pulled him in by his shirt and kissed him.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" I asked Milo hours later after he had offered me his bed instead of going home. I was happy to accept, especially since I didn't know where I was supposed to call home now. It was a little late for him to back out now that I was wearing his clothes, but I wanted to give him the option.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he told me, a smile slowly creeping over his face.

"What?" I asked.

"You just. . . nothing."

"No, tell me."

"You look really good in my sweater,"

I smiled and looked down at the sweater that hung too loosely around me. I would have had to roll up the sleeves to use my hands, but I was so cold that I kept them covered. "Thanks."

"So, um. . . why don't you take the bed, and I'll take the couch?"

"Milo, no, that's not fair. I can sleep on the couch. I can't take your bed."

"I insist."

I bit my lip. The bed looked warm and incredibly comfortable. I just wanted to curl up in it. "Is there anything I can get you?" he asked.

I shook my head and smiled. "I've got everything, thanks." He smiled, then carefully stepped forward to kiss me goodnight.

"I, um, I broke the light this morning. The one beside the bed I mean. This is the only one that works. I'll turn it off when you get into bed."

I smiled and leaned forward to kiss him again. I forced myself to pull back and made my way over to the bed. I climbed under the covers and lay down, only to feel empty.

"Goodnight," Milo whispered from the doorway, turning out the lights. He didn't move. I started to cry again. He couldn't see me or hear me, so I wasn't afraid of him finding out. I just suddenly felt really alone.

"Milo?" I asked the shadow at the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Would you. . . I know this is going to sound weird and I. . . don't feel obligated. . . I just. . . do you. . . could you stay with me tonight?" I sat up in the dark.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"If you want to. I. . . I don't want to be alone tonight."

Wordlessly, he made his way over to the bed and climbed in beside me. He carefully stayed away from the centre of the double bed, probably for my benefit. I rolled over to him though, and put my head down on his chest. Hesitantly, he brought his hand to my head and started stroking my hair.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

I nodded. I felt like the weight had been lifted, the loneliness had passed. I knew that in the morning, there would be Tracy to answer to, home to deal with, life would continue. But for the moment, as far as I was concerned, we were the only two people alive. "Milo?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

I turned my head up to face him, even though I could barely make out his silhouette in the darkness. "For not seeing what was right in front of me all along."

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. He smelled like sandalwood and espresso. I brought my lips to his one more time for another completely intoxicating, dizzying, breath-taking kiss that only the first few kisses can be. "Goodnight."