Author's Note: Sorry for another long wait, I guess I just lost track of time? Fortunately this time it was only school that stopped me from doing any writing. I am still aiming to have this finished by the end of the year, which I think is entirely possible considering there are only two more chapters and then an epilogue!

I would like to thank Just Mein, Sony89, Shiningheart of ThunderClan, Teenage Dream92, cartoon-watcher-4-eva, Kenrai, sheneverupdates, Hunny Spectrum, ToraHimeSama, Artemis of Luna, sanaa, Dragon Reverb, ayushi, imma-pink-buble, Peachesbunny, DayDreaming0f y0u, TwistedImaginings, Bara Shibenjin, , MePo, XxGoddess-Of-LovexX as well as somebody who didn't list a name for the reviews! It amazes me with every update that people are sticking with this story, you have no idea how much I appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Chapter Twelve: Rinse and Repeat

Hilary avoided eye contact with the guests mingling in her home. She merely saw them in her peripheral vision slowly leaving the area to just her and her Father, someone she did not have the desire to spend time with at the moment. She had heard him close the door and mumble something to himself, probably something that praised the absence of Tyson.

She figured her Father was waiting for her to turn around and be happy with his desire to exile Tyson from their home. He was often delirious to what Hilary actually wanted most of the time, too busy in his own clouded world.

"What was he doing back here?" Mr. Tatibana asked lowly, his voice trying to grasp onto his own temper. He figured there were still guests mingling in their home somewhere and he didn't want to raise his voice.

"He hadn't exactly left yet...," Hilary's voice flared in contrast. She hadn't been able to speak in Tyson's presence, too ashamed of what she had done to hurt him, but her voice hadn't betrayed her when it came to her Father. In fact, she found herself angry in his presence.

"Don't speak to me in that tone. When I tell someone to leave, they have to leave," Mr. Tatibana warned. "And look at me when I'm taking to you."

Hilary scowled before turning around and facing him. She was lingering on a wall for balance, still unimpressed with her shoes as much as she was with her Father. The brunette watched as his eyes flickered for a moment from where he was standing, his body still poised by the front door as if he was guarding it.

"You're crying...," Mr. Tatibana deduced, his expression crumbling in further anger. "He made you cry?"

She rolled her eyes blatantly this time, no longer caring for the onslaught of paternal jargon she was about to hear. "Yeah Dad, he made me cry," Hilary retorted sarcastically. She removed herself entirely from the wall and headed for the backyard, now finished with the conversation.

"Hilary Tatibana," her Father called, frustration clearly kicking in full gear for his daughter. "We're not done talking."

"I think we are," Hilary sighed, opening the back door of their home and escaping to the party being held. She couldn't believe she had just talked to her Father like that; without a doubt in her mind, she was going to be in trouble when the wedding ended.

Music now filled her backyard, the lights her Mom had set up giving the scene some ambiance. People were dancing with each other while others enjoyed their drinks and finger foods at their table. Hilary weaved her way through the crowds of people, her eyes set on the lonely corner of the party where she could sulk and watch other people enjoy themselves. It was also a place where she would be hidden, hopefully, from her parents as long as nobody pointed her out.

Making it to the vacant table, Hilary sat down with her arms folded on the top. She sat her chin on her arms and just took in the scene. So many people looked like they were having a fantastic time and she had just lost one of the most important people in her life. Hilary wished she could have blamed it on her Father's big mouth, but the fact of the matter was that it was unfortunately hereditary.

She watched her Father leave the house, hand woven through his hair in his usual frustrated posture. His eyes darted across the yard quickly in an attempt to find his daughter. Instead his eyes caught sight of his wife and he decided to approach her. Hilary frowned at this, knowing her Mother might now blame her for any state of the wedding.

Fortunately for Hilary, her Mother had not caught sight of her. She shrugged in the distant conversation, her attention stuck to the groom and bride as she waved off her husband. The brunette hazard a guess that she hadn't quite heard what her Father told her; the words, "Hilary... blah blah... Tyson... blah," most likely sifted through her ears.

Hilary was a bit relieved at this, knowing her Mother probably could have honed in on her much faster than her oblivious Father could. He quickly gave up talking to his wife, turning in the opposite side of the yard and walking away. Another stroke of luck for the girl, not that she revelled in it, considering the situation.

She merely sighed at her position, her heart continuing to sink and finding new lows. The fact that everyone continued to have fun was starting to bother her, not that she could do anything. Now was definitely not the right time for that.

"Where's scrawny at?" Hilary knew her luck wouldn't last as, despite her best efforts, someone noticed her. That someone ended up being her Grandfather, Thomas. He limped over to the table with the usual sour look on his face; she noticed his cane was having about as much luck as her heels on the grass.

"Tyson's not here," Hilary stated matter-of-factly. She knew her voice came off more annoyed than she meant, the overall sting of events thriving in her system.

Thomas was not impressed with her obvious remark. "The boy can't handle a little teasing or does he have the bladder of a toddler?" Hilary could hear the taunting smirk in his voice without even looking and she desperately wanted to recoil in anger.

"He left," the brunette sent him a look of offense, "Dad made him."

"About time," Thomas praised, hitting one of Hilary's chair legs with his cane lightly. "First smart thing my son's done in a while."

"There's nothing wrong with Tyson," Hilary snapped, making the older man scoff at her attitude.

"You don't need boys like that hanging around. You need genuine, well-behaved men that work hard and can accomplish things," Thomas lectured, his rough personality taking hold. "The only thing that kid had accomplished is being an embarrassment."

"You don't know a single thing about Tyson; you didn't even give him a chance before starting to pick him apart," Hilary scowled. "And what exactly have you accomplished tonight that makes you better than him?"

Her Grandfather stared at her for a few moments, a look of surprise etched on his face briefly before it vanished into one of anger. "This is a great example of what boys like him do to young impressionable girls," Thomas stated matter-of-factly, "Just wait until your parents hear about this attitude change of yours, he'll be out of your life for good."

With that, her Grandfather walked away in annoyance; she watched him stumble along with his cane, not bothering to comment that Tyson had just left her on his own. Hilary was not even worried about her parents' reaction knowing she was already in trouble; she assumed the amount could not change by that much. Her parents should know by now that her Father's side always had her on edge.

Hilary laid her chin in her hand again as she leaned on the table. She stared once more at the crowd of people that had overtaken her yard tonight; more people had gathered in celebration, blocking her view from where her parents had remained last.

"Ahem... um," Hilary turned her attention to the next relative that had noticed her alone, her new Uncle Greg. He smiled wanly at the teenager, giving a meek wave from a safe distance away; she gathered by his behaviour that he had met some of her cousins first. "You're Hilary... right? All these names are kind of scrambling together in my head, so if I'm wrong, I'm sorry..."

Hilary pulled a smile for the groom, knowing her Aunt Veronica was often a difficult person to deal with. "No, you're right. I'm Hilary. Cue cards did you well this time."

Uncle Greg smiled back, clearly relieved. He approached his new niece with his gathered confidence. "That's good. Trying my best to put faces to names," he continued on, studying the young girl, "Are you okay, you look kind of down? If there is something wrong with the wedding, please tell me instead of Veronica."

The brunette leaned back in her chair, dropping her arms so that they laid flat on the table. She couldn't help but crack a smile at his worried tone, as always, Aunt Veronica had this effect on men. "The wedding's fine," Hilary calmed the groom once again as he let out a deep breath. "I'm having Dad problems... Sort of."

"Oh," Uncle Greg nodded, acting as if he knew all about the problems girls had with their Fathers. He scratched his head awkwardly, his fingers brushing against his overly gelled hair that his new wife demanded he get done for the wedding. "Weren't you with a boy earlier?"

"Tyson," Hilary acknowledged. She had noticed the sudden change in topics, but decided to let it drop. "Part of my Dad problems, he made Tyson leave."

"Oh," Uncle Greg repeated, managing to walk into the same conversation despite his attempt to make small talk. He nodded a few times before he was hit with a sudden realization. "Wait... it's not because of what happened during the wedding, is it? He didn't have to leave, I mean... I'm happy things are out there now... Well, maybe happy isn't the right word..."

"Not exactly," the brunette interrupted his trail of thought, making him nod a few more times. "My Dad overreacted about some other stuff..."

"You don't want to talk about it," he concluded, relieved yet again. He didn't exactly want to talk about it either as he had no wishes of stepping over any brother-in-law boundaries. "But honestly, I'm glad I found out about the Kyles beforehand... Not that it was really in advance, I was at the altar..."

"You're welcome?" Hilary gave a half smile, finding that she liked this Uncle. Too bad he wasn't going to last long.

"So about those other Kyles...?"

"Gregory!"

Hilary watched as the poor guy jumped at the sound of his wife's booming voice. Both of them turned their attention to Veronica storming toward them as she hefted her dress along by grabbing two different areas at the front and holding them in such a way to make walking easier.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Veronica zoned in on her husband, annoyance written on her face. "You're supposed to be introducing yourself to people; I haven't seen you in minutes!"

Greg stammered, "I am. I was talking to your niece, Hilary."

Veronica looked passed her husband to Hilary, giving her a blank stare. "We've discussed this Gregory, strict time limit. There's simply too many people here to just bum around," the bride lectured, "You introduce yourself, say something witty, ask if they're enjoying themselves, compliment how beautiful I am, then move onto the next person."

"But," Greg continued to stammer.

Veronica rolled her eyes, attention switching back to Hilary in a flash. "Did he do this?"

"To a T," Hilary evaluated. She felt bad for lying given her current situation with Tyson, but seeing the stress deflate from within her new Uncle was almost worth it.

"Good," Veronica waved Greg off, "Go find someone else then. Rinse and repeat."

The groom sighed, once again defeated. He waved to Hilary gratefully, "It was very nice to meet you." The brunette merely returned the gesture as she noticed her Aunt had not budged.

"Where'd that boy go?" Veronica narrowed her eyes suspiciously, just noticing her niece's date had not been present. "Off bothering other people?"

Hilary let out a sigh, seeing a constant theme in her relative's conversations. "Dad made him leave," she said simply, hoping her Aunt wouldn't dig for details.

"And why is that...?" Aunt Veronica quirked an eyebrow with interest. Hilary should have known better than to assume her Aunt wasn't always searching for new gossip to spread. The brunette studied her Aunt's face, watching as it displayed faux concern and intrigue. "Don't tell me my brother actually punished the kid for destroying my wedding?"

Hilary thought destroying was a strong word for the previous incident, but decided on stifling her opinions for her own good. "No," she answered, her Aunt's face crinkling at the news.

"Of course not." Veronica rolled her eyes, "What the hooligan do then?"

"Nothing," Hilary spat, "And his name is Tyson."

Her Aunt stared at her unimpressed once again, much like most of her family's facial expression that night when speaking with her for a long duration of time. "I do believe it is my wedding and not yours, so hold off on the attitude," the bride frowned, "Besides, it's not my fault your boyfriend didn't make the cut."

The brunette groaned, "He didn't do anything."

"Right... That's why he got the kick," her Aunt sighed dramatically. She placed a hand on her niece's shoulder, empathy the last emotion in her gaze. "You could do a lot better than him honestly; it looked like you just picked him up off the street. Let me give you some boy advice..."

"I think you're the last person to be giving boy advice." Hilary froze as soon as she realized those words had not just remained in her thoughts, but had escaped into the real world. The brunette quickly bit her lip to keep more thoughts from tumbling out and her eyes slowly raised to look at her Aunt.

Coldly drawing her hand back, Aunt Veronica stood in silence for a few moments, her brain sizzling in anger. Slowly she puffed up from the insult, almost as if the woman forgot how to breathe, as she shook slightly back and forth. "Wait until your parents hear about this," the bride finally threatened, her words breaking through grinding teeth.

Hilary let out a quiet sigh of relief when her Aunt rampaged off to enjoy the other guests' company. She lowered her head into her hands on the table top in an attempt to block the whole night out. It was, of course, unsuccessful. The world around her would continue and every sound of happiness would have an underlying condescending tone just for her.

The people around her would continue to be disappointed; mad at her choice of words, or worse, her decision in boyfriends. Poor boys that don't even know what they are walking into, but end up being burned in the worst way.

Hilary didn't care if her Father thought she was disrespectful, if her Grandfather thought she was ruining her life, or if her Aunt thought she was selfish. Tyson hated her entirely; couldn't even stand looking at her. And at that moment, that was what mattered.

She had never felt worse.