"Helena! I'm serious! Come on!" Myka was sitting on the couch in the family room while the images of Steve, Pete, and Claudia moved around in their little boxes in front of her, mostly discussing the fact that Pete was in desperate need of a haircut and that Claudia would really like to go to bed as it was nearing 2 a.m. in Switzerland.

"You all don't need me for whatever Pete wants to tell everyone! Go on without me."

"God, could you two stop yelling across the house? Some of the civilized human beings are trying to read."

"Tracy, you have a room. Also, you are reading a Buzzfeed article, not 'War and Peace.'"

"It's called a listicle." Tracy rolled her eyes

Pete whistled for her attention, and to wake Claudia back up as she had started dozing off. "Look, Mykes, whatever, you can ask her about it later, Claude's gonna climb through her screen and punch me if I don't get to it, so here it is. I was looking at Craigslist for a place to live next year." Myka smirked. Of course he hadn't done this on time and now, when they were only a month out from returning, Pete thought it time to research his living situation. "And I found this awesome house. It used to be a bed and breakfast or something, but the owner wants to rent out the whole thing. Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and if we split the cost between the five of us," Pete put the back of his hand up to his cheek and spoke out of a slit on the side of his mouth, "or six, if Steve asks Liam to move in too," both boys' eyebrows shot up in unison as Pete continued, "then it would actually be cheaper than living in the dorms."

Myka drew in a breath, preparing her response, and was quickly quelled by Pete standing and plunging his face toward the screen. "And before you ask your million questions Myka, I checked with my mom and if you haven't signed your housing agreement yet, you can still change your 'arrangements.'" After he concluded his air quotes, Pete clapped his hands together and stepped back, obviously eyeing all of his friends in their individual squares on his computer screen.

"So whadya think?"

Claudia's face was flat and unamused, but she was the first to answer, "I think you totally didn't need me to stay up until 2 a.m. to ask me that. I'm down, but I'm gonna need to see the place first. And I'm not sharing a bathroom with you."

One fist pump from Pete.

"I…" Steve leaned in, but tilted his head away, seemingly thinking a little longer about the offer. "... think that I'd be interested. But I, uh, don't think I'm there with Liam yet. Us living together, I mean."

Two fist pumps from Pete.

They all focused their attention on the one least likely to buy into Pete's idea.

"Well, you're right. I do have about a million questions. E-mail me some actual information and I'll talk to Helena about it and… if our scholarships cover off-campus housing… then…" she grinned "Maybe."

Three fist pumps and a yelp of excitement from Pete.

"I said maybe, Pete." He was way too excited for just a maybe.

"I know maybe means yes. Cause you guys love me. Ha, HA!" He laughed into the screen and then began a victory dance of the running man variety.

"And with that, I'm out. Next time, we're doing this on my schedule." Claudia abruptly hung up on the others who were laughing at Pete dance.

After they talked through a list of concerns Myka compiled in her head immediately after hearing Pete's suggestion (including her insistence that it would not, could not, turn into the off-campus party house), she began to wonder why Helena had still not come out of her room. She hung up after saying goodbye and skipped down the hall, on the balls of her feet, hoping to sneak up on the girl. When she opened the door at the end of the hallway, she saw a flurry of quick movement on the floor behind the guest bed and a rustling of paper before Helena stood, leaning on one foot and shoving her hands in her back pockets with a toss of her hair. Flustered was not a color usually rendered on Helena.

"Smooth. Very smooth." Myka leaped onto the bed and leaned forward to examin the floor on the other side, but there was nothing there. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Well you were doing a lot of something for doing nothing." Myka raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer. Helena was doing something, and, since it was Helena, chances were it was interesting. Especially if she didn't want to tell Myka what it was. Mystery. Intrigue. It was all too much to resist.

Helena's hand traveled up to her hair absentmindedly. Myka's eyes flicked to the movement, and when Helena noticed her noticing her, the hand retreated. "Oh, do stop it."

"You're cute."

"You're annoying."

Myka laughed and reached out, grabbing Helena by the waist and leaning back so that Helena was forced to tumble onto the bed after her, keeping her arms crossed in protest until she could no longer fight it, bracing her body for the fall. She landed on top of Myka, who was giving her the best lop-sided Myka grin she could muster, trying to charm the truth out of her. Giving her nose a quick peck, Helena rolled over, completing the full rotation and laying flat next to Myka, who perched herself up on her elbow to stare at the girl, brow stubbornly knit.

"Fine. You don't have to tell me. But I'll figure it out. I won't rest until I do."

Helena's eyes flashed with a sadness reminiscent of months ago, making Myka's stomach lurch. She covered it quickly and turned toward Myka, "So, what, exactly, was Pete so anxious about?"

Oh no.

Oh God.

The situation now before Myka was one that she had completely forgotten to consider when she had agreed that, yes, of course, she and her girlfriend should spend the summer in the place where she grew up. The place where every other college student would be coming home to for the summer. She and her cavelier, hyper-intelligent, even-further-hyper-attractive, British girlfriend would, of course, never run into anyone with whom she went to school. Never. Of course not.

Except of course.

And since when were Sam Martino and Kurt Smoller friends?

And why were they in the bookstore?

The questions rushing to Myka's mind left her standing, arms full of books, in the middle of the doorway to the back office.

"Hey Mr. B!" Sam greeted Warren with a familiarity that was probably overreaching for a boy who had only met him a handful of times. "What are the chances that you've got the new X-Men comic?"

Warren sighed heavily. "Don't have comic books here, Sam."

The boy knocked on the counter, "Ah, didn't think so, but the closest comic book store is like twenty minutes away. Figured I'd try." He turned back toward the front door of the shop.

"But I've got plenty of other books, you should look around."

"Oh, no thanks, I've got a Kindle." Warren and Myka wore matching scowls when they heard him say that.

"Myka?" Her name awoke her from her stupor and there was Kurt Smoller standing right there, having wandered off to look around on his own - huge, imposing frame, now blocking her view of the register. "I didn't know you were home this summer."

Myka could hear Helena pushing the chair she occupied back from the desk in the office. Myka generally loved Helena's curious spirit, but at the moment, she wanted to dampen it out with a snuffer. She wondered if they had spent enough time together that telepathy would work. Don't come in here, please. Just let them go happily on their way.

But before she could respond to Kurt, Helena was out of the office and past her. Well, it had been worth a shot.

"Hullo…" Helena's eyes shot back and forth between the two boys that she was now standing in front of, mentally sizing them up. They seemed to be doing the same, but while she was completely at ease, they both seemed... less so. Myka had witnessed guys encounter Helena for the first time on many occasions. She was used to this scenario. There was always the slight widening of the eyes, the quick adjustment of the body position to appear more at ease which always actually gave away their lack of comfort. It was annoying, but she couldn't blame them. Then again, she never expected it to be these guys - the two people most likely to be associated with her past "romantic interests," though Myka was fairly certain she couldn't actually call it that. "Are you some of Myka's friends from high school? I was wondering where she was keeping you."

"Uh…" Kurt put the book he had picked up back on the shelf haphazardly, inadvertently knocking over a couple others. When he didn't go to pick them up, Myka did it herself, rolling her eyes and grumbling something to the effect of "Well, this is perfect."

Kurt put out his hand to shake. "I'm Kurt. Uh, Myka," he referenced back to where she had been standing, though she was on the floor now, cleaning up his mess, "used to tutor me in math."

"And I'm Sam!" the sandy blonde boy trotted over. "Myka and I were friends in high school, yeah," he grinned. Looking at him, Myka remembered why she had been so comfortable spending time with him. He was so unassuming, so pleasant to be around, so easy. She had liked that, for as long as it had lasted. She had needed that when she was still at home. A break from the tension that made stay in her body and mind during high school. He had grown bored of her disinterest in "doing" anything, as he had put it, not unlike most seventeen-year old boys, and so there hadn't been much time together in the long run. And their dates had been in complete and total opposition to the flood of emotion Helena had, only months later, splayed upon her. The contrast was dazzling. Especially actually looking at the two standing next to one another.

And then there was Kurt. Oh Kurt. What had she been thinking? He was pretty to look at, she supposed. And he had always been kind to her, even when his friends were not. Maybe it was that he resembled those dashing men of her favorite Regency novels? Whatever it had been, Myka couldn't recall her reasoning, which was just as well. She didn't want to have any flashbacks to high school. And yet, here they were. Standing in front of her.

She eventually met Helena's eyes and the girl looked at her curiously. One look was enough to know what was happening in Myka's mind.

"Yes, well, it's nice to meet both of you. Myka and I met this year at college and I'm so glad you all shared her with the rest of the world. I must admit, she quickly dazzled me. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

The boys exchanged looks, complete with dopey smiles, and even Warren looked up from behind the counter at that. Myka Bering? Dazzling?

"Well, of course, she's smarter than anyone I've ever met, save myself, naturally. I'm quite certain that there isn't a problem or puzzle she couldn't master. And her understanding of the written word is staggering." Helena shot a look at Warren, who caught her eyes and then looked back down. "Brave. Infinitely more compassionate than most. That compassion has, on a number of occasions, saved my life, I think. Oh, I could go on, but it's all to say I have honestly never met anyone quite as wondrous as Myka Bering." Helena turned toward Warren once again and Myka followed, swiveling her head. He was standing taller than he had when the boys entered, a look of pride across his face.

By the time Myka looked back, Helena had pulled the boys closer and put her head close to theirs, whispering.

"And she is, by far, the greatest shag I've ever had."

Myka wouldn't have been surprised if there were suddenly six eyes lying on the floor for the way all three of the listeners were gaping at Helena, herself included. "HELENA!" Myka whisper-yelled. She shot a look back at her father to see if he had heard. He hadn't. But that didn't stop the pounding of the blood running through her veins in utter terror.

"I'm sorry, should I not have told them that? Oh, well," she tilted her head and clicked her tongue against her teeth, her lips turning up, "I've said it now."

There was some awkward laughter from the boys, though she tried not to look at them, for fear of the looks she'd see on their faces after they'd completely processed what Helena said.

"No, yeah, I mean, that's cool." was all Kurt had to say and Myka swore she heard Sam say, to himself, "That explains it!" She would have happily argued him on that idea, because, no, that did not explain it. She had in fact chosen not to pursue a physical relationship with him because she hadn't been interested in one and that was not because he happened to be a boy... but it seemed an awkward time to further the conversation of sex. What with her father still only being fifteen. feet. away.

She had to get them out of there. She grabbed both of the boys around their biceps and turned them toward the door. "Well, anyway, I'm sure you've got lots to do today, what with tracking down this new X-Men, so, we'll see you later, have a good day, bye!" and out they went.

"Well that wasn't a very nice way to treat customers, Myka." Helena was at the back of the room, leaning on the doorframe, smirking like a wildwoman.

"Do not even start, Helena." She pointed her finger and followed it with the rest of her body, an arrow released from the tight string of its bow.

Her father cleared his throat and the arrow dropped in mid-flight. "That was, uh, that was nice, Helena. What you said." He kept his focus down.

"All true, Mr. Bering. All so very true." She winked at Myka and turned back into the office.

Myka sighed and shook her head. Helena Wells, always up to something.

Helena tiptoed into Myka's room well after midnight, just to be safe, to find that the girl had already turned out her light. All that was visible was the giant mass of messy curls. Helena could tell she was awake though, because, though she often fell asleep on her side, she never stayed asleep on her side. Helena crawled in the bed behind her and hugged her close.

"Are you going to give me the silent treatment forever?"

No answer.

"Come on, everything I said was true, you can't possibly fault me for it."

No answer.

"Mykaaaaaa." When she drew out her name in that way that Pete sometimes did when he was whining, she flopped over. "There we are."

Myka still didn't speak and stared at the ceiling. "Myka, I didn't mean to make you feel ashamed or angry or whatever it is you are right now. You looked…" she turned the girl's head so she would actually look at her, "unhappy when they came in. I saw it. I saw that girl from the beginning of the year again. I liked that girl very, very much. But I love the girl I know now." She stroked her face, taking in the whole plane of it. "And so I got protective and insolent and wanted to show those boys who my Myka is."

Myka finally broke her silence, "I was still a good person before I met you."

"I know."

"And you've made me better, but I could have grown on my own. I would have grown on my own."

"I know."

"All right. Good. I'm glad we've got that cleared up. And," she raised herself above Helena, "just so we're clear, as I am the only 'shag' you've ever had, I'm also, aside from being the best 'shag' you've ever had, the worst 'shag' you've ever had. So it's not actually a very high compliment."

"I… Well, I suppose technically that's true, but I'd rather emphasize the positive. And, frankly, I don't think I've had the worst anything with you. It's all been rather glorious, at least when it comes to the 'us' of it. We are quick studies in every sense of the word, aren't we?" While she was talking, Helena had lifted her hands and both had fingertips inching under the waistband of Myka's sleep shorts.

"I suppose I shouldn't make a liar of you, right?" Myka finally smiled down at her, "Especially since everyone I went to high school with is going to know about us within the next two days."

"Wouldn't want to disappoint." Helena spoke the words against Myka's neck before trailing her tongue along the hollow she found there.

"Never."

Myka heard people out front on the street beginning to raise their voices and, though she imagined that they might be her family, she was too engrossed in watching Professor Nielsen edit the abstract she had written up in real time, his cursor dashing to and fro, leaving her notes and questions and even sternly worded commendations. Was it nerdy to find the editing process thrilling? Yes. Did Myka love it anyway? Oh so much.

When the door to her room swung open and an overtly sobbing Tracy entered and rushed toward her, though, she pushed her computer back.

Her younger sister slumped over onto the bed, face down, and reached her hand out blindly to find Myka. Myka was so surprised that, initially she just stared at the searching palm. But before too long, rather than just taking her hand, she pulled the girl up and into her side. Her face was a pluvial storm of tears, her hair sticking to the wet places and hiding her eyes.

Myka didn't say anything, she just let Tracy cry. She mostly didn't know what to say - she had never seen Tracy like this. She had seen her cry, of course, but Tracy was the kind to storm out of the room and slam her door, not the kind to seek out the comfort of her older sister. Because Berings did not share pain, they suffered through it alone. It was one of the few things they all had in common.

"I'm…. never…" hiccup, "driving…" sob, "again."

Myka pulled back to look the girl over for any injuries or physical damage, "Oh my God, Trace, are you all right?"

"He's…" wracking breath in, "gonna… kill me."

Myka hugged her close again. "No, no he's not, you're going to be fine." She laid a kiss to the top of her sister's head and gently began to sway her body back and forth, a faint memory of doing the same thing when Tracy was only a baby, wanting to calm her when she cried. Her mother would always create a human barrier around the girls, just in case. Though Myka would never have been anything but scrupulous with the baby, because, even then, Myka was never anything but scrupulous with the things she cared about.

Helena appeared in the doorway and Myka mouthed the words "Find out what happened," over her sister's head, to which Helena nodded and disappeared again.

Myka began taking deep breaths, encouraging Tracy to join her and after many minutes of practicing the relaxation, Tracy's brays turned into whimpers turned into normal exhalations.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Do you wanna tell me what happened?"

"No."

"Okay."

Minutes went by again, neither of them moving, and the next time Tracy spoke, Myka heard the familiar tightness in her throat, "Why'd you go so far away, Myka?"

"I had to, Trace."

"Why didn't you ever call me? Why didn't you tell me about Helena?"

She stopped swaying. Why hadn't she? It was a fair question. She guessed that she assumed that the information would be passed along. And, yes, maybe she had wanted to keep it to herself for a while. But that didn't excuse never talking to Tracy about it at all. "I didn't know you'd want to know."

Tracy pulled away and sat up, looking like she was about to burst into tears again.

"That's just stupid. Of course I'd want to know. I know we're not super close, but that still doesn't mean I wanted to find out that you were dating some girl from overhearing Mom and Dad arguing in the kitchen." She stood up, starting to pace anxiously around the bed. "No one talks to me. No one talks to each other in this family." She stopped suddenly. "We live above a bookstore, Myka. We're surrounded by them. And the sole purpose of books is to communicate something. But we don't communicate anything."

Myka scooted up, trying to reach for her sister, but Tracy backed away, "And you've got this person who already seems to know you better than any of us ever have and you're always giving each other these looks like there's some big secret that no one else gets to know and I'm really happy for you, I just…" she didn't know how to put it into words. "It just sucks."

She had no idea that these thoughts were plaguing her sister. She had always seemed unphased by the rest of them, confident by nature and not by sheer force of will like Myka had had to be. She was popular and smart and well-liked, how could she possibly feel this lost. Myka knew that she, of all people, should have realized they all had the capacity to feel alone. And she had left her alone in the pursuit of her own self-actualization. Myka had run away, not knowing that Tracy needed her. She had abandoned her.

Myka stood up and hugged her sister, who left her arms dangling at her sides. "So let's be better. I promise I'll be better. Ask me anything you want."

Tracy pulled back, "I don't want to ask you anything, I just want to be able to talk to you."

"You can! You always can."

"I don't feel like it."

"Well, start feeling like it. Because I'm here. You're my kid sister. You've got me forever, okay?"

The tears still lined the edges of Tracy's eyes, making them glisten against the light. Her cheeks started to quiver, but she wasn't about to cry. "Promise?"

"I swear. On Dad's first edition of David Copperfield."

"Well, then he would kill you." Each let their laughs ease the tension and they stepped back from one another.

They heard the bell of the front door ring and, since the store was closed, there were only three people it could be. They were both hoping it was Helena.

"Tracy? Where are you?" Their father's words got louder as he moved closer to the stairs.

Tracy's eyes flicked to Myka who squeezed her hand, "I'm up here, Dad."

They heard him bang up the stairs, more quickly than usual, and neither moved from their positions in the middle of Myka's floor. When Warren appeared at the door, he looked each girl up and down, his eyes looked panicked, and they braced themselves for his verbal lashing.

"Are you okay?" He was out of breath.

They shared a look once more. Why isn't he yelling?

"I'm fine, Dad. I'm so sorry about the car, I didn't…"

He cut her off, crossing the space between the two of them, and putting his arms around his younger daughter. "Don't worry about the car."

"It was just hard to see with the rain and I was trying to be careful. I didn't even know that that sign…"

He was more firm now, the growl edging back into his voice. "I said don't worry about it. I'm just glad that you're all right."

"But I…"

"Trace!" Myka interrupted, shaking her head. There was no reason to make their dad angry if he wasn't already. She should just accept the easy win in this case and move on. She walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Obviously Tracy could handle it from here. Helena was standing in the hallway, waiting.

"Is it bad?" Myka asked, nodding her head downstairs toward the street.

"The car? Not too bad. Drivable. Based on your sister's hysterics, I assumed it was much worse."

"I think that was about more than just the car."

"Ah." Helena understood.

Myka pressed her back firm against the wall and slid down. "Helena, I had no idea. I thought she was fine. She's always seemed fine."

Helena smiled tiredly, "Don't we all until we don't anymore?"

Myka returned the smile. "We do." They each had their own little private aching miseries. Every one of them.

Including her dad. Her dad, who just showed them that he has the capacity for actually and actively caring for his children. Or Tracy, at least.

"Myka? You know when you asked me what I was doing last week and I wouldn't tell you?"

"I do."

Helena took a deep breath, "I think I should probably show you something."