The next few days felt like a return to normalcy, or at least some semblance of it. I had hired Robin to build me a coop, and with some of my leftover money, managed to buy myself a chicken. In true, unoriginal style, I named her Chicken. I was on a roll with bestowing names upon animals.

Summer was not so unlike spring in that I began my days tending to my crops and now my chicken, while the remainder of the day was spent doing a variety of things. Regardless of what I was doing that day, I made sure to work in a visit to Sebastian, and I couldn't ignore the excitement that each of these meetings brought me. It didn't matter that most of these visits were short, I was just glad to have someone to talk to who didn't just focus on my profession. Neither of us mentioned that conversation we'd had that first Friday of summer.

Part of me still marvelled over how the days blended together out here. There were discrete times of day, but overall, I had trouble remembering how Mondays were different from Wednesdays and Thursdays. Maybe that was the nature of summer – warm, sultry caresses that blurred nights into days into cloudless skies and endless tapestries of constellations.

It was the day before the Luau when I awoke from a vivid dream. In it I had been walking around downtown Zuzu City. The streets had been empty, without any signs of life, though I had known that Sebastian was here somewhere. Skyscrapers stood around me, their windows as dark as the shadows they cast. At once I knew he was just a block away, but as I turned, I sensed him to be gone, another street or two over. Throughout, I could hear Sam's laughter in all of its loud, pestiferous glory. I couldn't tell if he was with Sebastian or not, but he felt like a connecting piece of the puzzle. No matter what I did, I was always too many steps behind until I ran out of breath and the sidewalk swallowed me whole. It hadn't been a nightmare per se, but I was shaken regardless, and woke up covered in sweat.

I slipped out of bed and padded to the front door. I opened it with a creak and stepped out onto the front porch. Dog was already outside, sniffing at the melons I would be harvesting today. I wanted to celebrate the fact that my melons had actually turned out, but I couldn't muster enough cheer for that. My thoughts were still stuck in the Zuzu City of my dreams.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed that the flag was up on my mailbox. I stepped down and over to retrieve my mail.

The first was a reminder letter from Lewis about the Luau tomorrow. I chucked it into the shipping bin without reading it. A letter from my mother, and another from my father rounded out the rest of my mail.

The letter from my father brought a small smile to my face:

Hey kiddo,

I read an article about you in the local paper! I'm so impressed with your progress on the farm! Keep this up and dear old Dad might be retiring in a Fern islands luxury bungalow after all ;)

P.S. Your mother insisted on writing her own letter. She's quite upset that it's been more than a full season and you haven't come back to visit. Sorry.

Love,

Dad

Guilt wracked me. It hadn't occurred to me why there hadn't been any letters from my mom lately. Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned by her only child.

With trembling fingers, I opened my mother's letter:

Hey you bucko,

Remember me? I'm the lady who gave birth to you. I just wanted to drop you a line to see how you are. Dad told me about the article in the paper about you; it sounds like you're doing just dandy without us out there in the valley. I'm at once proud and mournful. You're no longer a child, but an independent adult making a name for yourself. I'm also a little ticked off.

When are you coming by for a visit? Spring's over now and before you know it, summer's going to be gone, too! Are you eating enough? Have you been making friends? Have you seen any bats out there? There's just so much that can't be stuffed into a letter. I understand that you're busy, but would it kill you to come by for a day or (even better) a weekend? I guess I'm a little more than a little ticked off. It's not the same without you here.

I just don't want you to forget about us.

We love you so much,

Mom

My heart sank as I slid her letter back into its envelope. A dark mood took hold of me, and my blood boiled in a flash of anger before leaving me numb, empty. It was unfair. I was just starting to get back into the groove of things here, and then this letter brought the whirlwind of confusion back to the forefront of my mind.

What stopped me from going back at least for a visit? I knew the normal, standard answers: transportation, cost, and time. But those didn't take my heart or soul into account. Was I even ready to go back? I tried to think about my life just two seasons ago, but struggled to get past the longing I felt. I missed sitting in cafés during my lunch breaks, I missed people-watching at the park on weekends, and I missed my parents, who accepted and loved me unconditionally.

As much as the city had hurt me, I could not shake my loyalty to it. Ultimately, Zuzu City was my home still. Forever, it would be the place where I grew up, where I was born. Nothing could change that. That part of my history was set in stone, and I knew that there was some good in the city. Had my decision to give it all up been made too hastily?

Now that I was here, I was afraid that if I went back now, I'd never leave. Somehow that seemed worse than the idea of never going back, even to visit. To leave permanently would be failing my grandpa, and letting myself down. I had had so much to prove to myself coming out here, and I was somehow thriving. I enjoyed farming, now that I had developed a cadence and gotten past the trials and tribulations of experimentation.

I enjoyed my freedom – I never felt chained to any particular activity here. The valley lay before and around me, available in a way I had never expected it to. On top of that, there was a certain tranquility that I was able to achieve out here that had not existed in the frenetic city. And yet the city called to me, hoping to lure me back into its clutches with its siren song. If I moved back to the city, would the valley sing to me then, as well?

I could not stop the small voice within me that also noted that returning to the city meant leaving Sebastian out here. Not that he didn't have any other friends, but I knew now that I meant something to him. I refused to read into what that something might be, but it was there and it lay heavy on my heart.

For the rest of the day, my feet were like lead. My mother's letter had left me deflated, and the remaining hours of sunlight I spent hidden underground in the mine, away from prying eyes. By the time I stumbled out into the fresh air, the sun had just about set, and I forced myself to drop by and visit Sebastian for my daily, requisite visit.

"Hey, I'm sorry I'm coming by so late," I said as I stepped into his room. He was at his gaming computer, in the middle of a game it seemed, but he paused it as I came towards him.

He nodded, pulling off his headphones. "It's okay. I appreciate you coming over." He rubbed the back of his neck, "You know, if you're ever bored, you can hang out here in my room." He tried to sound nonchalant, but I detected some nervousness.

"Thanks," I gave him a lop-sided smile. "I wish I was bored more often."

He breathed a light sigh of relief and I tried to pretend that I hadn't heard it.

"Well, what did you do today that was so exciting?" he asked.

"Mining. Oh yeah, I have to show you this thing I found in the caves. Maybe you can tell me what it is." I groped around in my backpack until my fingers stumbled upon a smooth, glassy material. I held it out for him to take.

He was intrigued, and when he recognized what was now held in his hands, his face lit up. "This is a frozen tear."

I was skeptical. "What does that even mean?"

He rolled his eyes, but grinned. "It's a tear that's frozen."

I gave him my most unimpressed look.

"Okay, fine. It's supposedly the frozen tear of a yeti."

"Oh, neat," I said without enthusiasm. I chewed the inside of my lip and watched him turn the thing over in his hands. There was such wonderment in his face, so child-like and innocent. I knew that his mask was off, and this was the true Sebastian I was seeing now. Who else had seen this aspect of him? Despite my sad state, I warmed to him, unable to resist the light of his fascination. "You know what? You should have it."

"What?" he yelped and almost dropped the thing.

"You heard me, you should have it. I have no use for it." I shrugged.

"I can't possibly take it."

"Okay, well," I took it from him and then held it out away from my body. "I'm going to drop it and let it shatter on the floor."

He was stricken. "You wouldn't."

"Sure, I would. Now, if you would just take my damn gift, this frozen tear thingy doesn't have to experience shattering into a million itty bitty pieces."

He sighed and held out a hand to take it back.

"Good. I had a feeling you would come around."

He continued to marvel at the glassy droplet as I placed it in his palm. He looked up at me, his eyes wide. "I really love this, how did you know?"

"I had a feeling that my 'secretly an expert on rocks' friend would appreciate this. It was a gamble though, I must say."

He rolled his eyes once more, but the remnants of his smile would not leave his lips. "I'm not secretly an expert on rocks."

"Uh-huh," I narrowed my eyes, "sure, tell that to the sad yeti that cried this frozen yogurt blob I found."

"It's a frozen tear," he corrected me quietly, unable to stop himself.

"Sure," I yawned, "whatever you say."

"Are you tired?" He cradled the frozen tear in his hands, but a wave of concern furrowed his brow.

"Kind of," I admitted, and stifled another yawn.

"What time did you wake up this morning?"

"6am," I shrugged. "Same as always."

He stared at me, his eyes troubled. "But you're out late almost every day."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How do you know that?"

"When I'm out smoking by the lake, sometimes I see you just entering or leaving the caves." He looked a bit sheepish, and a ruddy tint coloured his cheeks. "No wonder you're exhausted. It seems like you're working all the time."

"That's not true." I didn't sound as confident as I wanted to and my poor spirits did little to bolster my words.

"So what do you do when you aren't working?" I knew he was trying to prove a point, but there was a genuine curiosity behind his query.

"Let's see," I thought for a moment, absently rubbing my arms with my hands. "I read."

"What do you read?" He pressed me further.

"Fantasy books, comic books."

"Oh yeah?" He sat up straighter. "Well, did you read the new 'Cave Saga X'? I won't spoil it for you, but oh man…" He trailed off into a grin, and his whole face lit up once more. I had never seen him so excited.

"Hey, man, no spoilers!" I glared at him. "I'll have to get my parents to send me a copy." The sharp reminder of my mother's letter made me wince.

"I didn't spoil anything," he protested.

"Sure, but you're so excited, I know something good happened."

"It depends on what your idea of good is," he smirked.

"You're killing me. Truly." I was unable to relay my enthusiasm, and my statement unintentionally dripped with false sarcasm. I shook my head with a frown. "I'm sorry, that sounded sarcastic when I didn't mean for it to. It's getting late, I should head home."

He nodded. "Thanks for coming by. And if your parents don't send the latest Cave Saga to you, you can borrow mine."

"That sounds good." As much as I had enjoyed my conversation with Sebastian, I was feeling the drag and pull of my earlier distress. Nothing had changed: my mother was still upset with me, and today had been another day not spent back in the city. My life here was very full, but my heart was empty.

"Are you okay?" His brow furrowed as he studied my face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, doing my best to give him a smile. I managed to bite my lip and bare some teeth.

He was amused, but concerned. I appreciated that. "If you need to talk, I can listen," he said softly.

I nodded. "Thanks." I pressed my lips together.

Warily accepting my refusal, he gave me an encouraging smile that was somehow able to jolt my heart into temporary palpitations. "I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow at the Luau."

I blushed and smiled in earnest. "Okay," I paused. "Me too. See you tomorrow."

As I exited the shop, I felt an imperceptible shift. The bad mood fell back into place and I sighed. I took my time walking home, letting the darkness swallow me. It reflected too many of my fears back at me such that I was unable to contain my tears. What was I doing with my life? Had my choices been worth it?

Not even the thump of Dog's tail when I entered my house consoled me. I could take him with me if I moved back to the city. My mom would just have to deal with her allergies.

Gosh, even in theoretical situations, I was a shitty, selfish brat.

I sat in front of the fireplace until sleep took me, and I slept dreamlessly.

The day of the Luau dawned, bright and obnoxious. I dawdled while I completed my morning chores. The Luau was another one of those events that I was going in blind for – no expectations meant no disappointment, or so I'd taught myself.

"See you later, Dog," I said and patted him on the head. He panted and stared up at me with such hope in his eyes that only made my leaving for the Luau even harder.

It was nearly 11am when I finally made my way onto the beach. Everyone else was already there, milling about, partaking in the festivities. I saw an area that was dedicated to dancing and made sure to stay away from there. Like the Flower Dance, a number of decorations had been put up. I looked closer at some of the tiki totems that had been placed around as area dividers. I was impressed. Four tables laden with food surrounded a large barrel tended by Marnie. The barrel contained some sort of brew that smelled delicious. In the southeast corner of the beach, Linus oversaw some meat on a spit. The townsfolk had captured the feel of a luau quite well.

"Farmer!" Someone called and I turned towards the voice.

It was the mayor. He gestured over for me to join him. Beside Lewis stood a portly gentleman, likely in his sixties. He wore a purple cloak and bowler hat. I thought I recognized him from news segments on the TV back when I lived with my parents, but could not quite recall his name.

"Mayor Lewis," I nodded at the mayor.

"I wanted you to meet the governor," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. The governor extended a pudgy hand and I shook it.

"A pleasure! It's always such a treat coming out to the valley to enjoy the spoils of your bountiful harvests. The air is so fresh in the valley," the governor inhaled deeply. "Perhaps the missus and I should purchase a summer home here."

I bowed my head slightly. "I'm from the city myself. It's lovely here in the valley, that is undeniable."

"Have you brought something for the soup?" Mayor Lewis asked, and he tugged at his shirt collar. "You would be the best person to showcase the great quality produce we have out here."

I tried not to glare at him. I still had one of the melons I had harvested yesterday in my backpack. This would be my contribution, I decided. I didn't care how awful the concoction would taste. "I've got a little something-something."

Lewis wiped at his brow in relief. "Well, I think we're all looking forward to tasting it. Please let me know when you've added it and we can get to feasting."

I shrugged. "Sure." Taking this as an indication of dismissal, I bowed to the governor. "It's a pleasure meeting you, sir."

He was tickled by my gesture, but I didn't stick around to hear what sorts of sweet nothings he'd throw my way.

I exchanged greetings with a few of the people I passed as I made my way up to the soup barrel. The sand here was covered by a mat of palm leaves. Another nice touch. There were a few steps that led up to the pot, and I gingerly took them. They were narrow and somewhat rickety, as though they had been used many, many times in the past.

"Aloha, farmer," Marnie said, grinning broadly.

"Hello, Marnie," I said and peered into the depths of the soup.

"What have you got to throw in?"

I reached into my backpack and produced the melon.

Marnie tried not to stare. Her smile dimmed some.

"What do you think?" I asked her, studying her expression.

She continued to smile. "If that's what you've got, we should toss it in." I liked her spirit – laissez-faire!

I held the melon in my hands over the soup. Here goes nothing, I thought, and dropped the melon into the broth with a splash. Stepping back down onto the blanket of leaves, I signalled to Lewis.

"Alright, everyone," he called and gestured for everyone to gather closer. "It's time for the governor's tasting." He rubbed his hands together and I saw beads of sweat slide down his face.

The governor stepped forward and Marnie filled her ladle with soup. She brought it down for him to have a taste. The town collectively held their breaths awaiting the governor's remarks.

He swallowed noisily and contemplated the taste before letting a slow smile spread across his face. "Ahh," he began, "that's a very pleasant soup. The produce from this valley never disappoints!"

A chorus of cheers burst forth and the governor filled his bowl. As most of the townsfolk stepped forward, I espied Sebastian hanging back. I made my way over to him.

"Don't you want some of this fabulous soup I helped create?"

He smiled as he turned to face me. He had been looking out toward the water. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Abigail stood on the docks, vaguely in that direction. I hadn't predicted the surge of jealousy that struck me.

"Oh, I do. I'll just wait until everyone else is done." He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at me. "What about you?"

I shrugged. "I'll wait with you. I don't feel like joining the feeding frenzy quite yet."

The folks who had tried the soup first murmured amongst themselves, but we could catch threads of it. An unexpected bubble of pride erupted within me.

"Who added the melon?" Pam hollered, a dribble of soup sliding down her chin. She looked angry, but then again, that was her usual expression.

Sebastian gave me a significant look. So he had seen me add it.

"I did," I said, stepping forward cautiously. I offered myself on a platter to these hungry wolves. Perhaps the governor had had a taste without any melon in it. It had never occurred to me to eat any of the melons I had grown, they had always gone straight into the shipping container. Was I about to get cussed out by Pam for tossing in the massive fruit?

Her first response was an unwavering stare, then she nodded approvingly, her brow smoothing. "It's delicious. Did you grow it yourself?" From the crowd came a murmur of agreement and a wave of nods.

"Yes." I felt myself blush.

"You're doing good things out there on your grandpappy's farm," Pam said, and returned to downing her soup.

As the crowd around the soup barrel dispersed, Sebastian gestured for me to follow him and we stepped up to the pot. The liquid gurgled merrily as Marnie handed me a bowl and ladled a heaping spoonful of soup into it. I waited for Sebastian's bowl to be filled and for Marnie to hand us our spoons.

Sebastian and I looked at each other and a strange, unspoken communication occurred. My heart leapt to my throat, and it was a struggle to swallow and force it back down. Together, we filled our spoons and had our first mouthfuls of soup.

The taste was mildly spicy with the heartiness of homemade broth. Somehow the melon had broken down and a chunk of it had made it into my mouth. It added a nice crispy texture without affecting the overall flavour. Suddenly, I was glad to have come here without expectations.

"This is good," Sebastian said finally. He had finished half his bowl of soup.

I nodded in agreement. "Surprisingly so."

"This is loads better than it's been at a lot of past luaus. One year, Sam put a pound of anchovies into the soup," Sebastian grinned in remembrance.

I gaped at him in horror. "No way. That must've been awful-tasting!"

Sebastian smirked. "Ever wonder why Sam leads the town in community service hours?"

Unable to control myself, I let out a snort of laughter.

"Hey," Sam's voice cut in from the other side of the beach. I watched him trot over to us, eyes bright. "Did I just hear you guys talking about me?"

Sebastian and I exchanged a glance before we both burst out laughing. A trickle of warmth seeped into my heart, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like I belonged.