Warning: Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.


We Fall Between

Lauren makes her house as calm and comfortable as possible before Steve gets home. She knows her abilities and doesn't even attempt home cooked, going for takeout instead. She has it out of containers and on plates by the time Steve pulls into the driveway and even plays one of her dad's relaxation tapes—sounds of the ocean. Lauren doesn't get it, but Steve loves it.

"Lauren! We need to talk!"

"Okay, okay, but first, how about we eat?"

The blonde wears a hopefully smile as her father lays down his briefcase and loosens his tie. The dining room table is set and soothing sounds of crashing waves fill the room. Steve sighs, rubbing the back of his head, making strands stand on ends.

"Fine."

No one likes tension and that includes the Tanners, who make a big effort to ignore what's unsaid all dinner. Lauren picked out one of her father's favorite wines and periodically offers to pour him more. Maybe she can get him drunk to the point of forgetting the necessary punishment. Right now, anything but silence would be nice.

"So how was work, daddy?"

"Stressful."

Fuck. That cannot mean good things for her.

"That sucks," Lauren says quietly. "Why? What's going on?"

"They need me in Chicago." Steve stabs at a meatball with his fork and shoves it into his mouth. As he chews, Lauren stares at her plate, not hungry. There are few things she hates more than when work rips him away from her. "I'm supposed to leave on Thursday."

"That soon?"

Steve sets down his utensils and Lauren knows it's time. "Okay, I think it's time to talk. Now, when I found out about this business trip I felt bad because I know you don't like it when I leave you here alone, but with what happened this afternoon, I'm worried."

"If you have to go then you have to go," Lauren says. "It's fine, really. I'll be okay by myself."

"That's not what I mean, Lauren."

She reads his expression carefully. "You don't trust me to be here alone and not do something stupid." He nods and her face twitches from the sting. "Daddy, I know what happened today looked bad, but you weren't there! Alison dissed Emily and Miss Kmetko! You know me. I can't just sit there and take it. Her throwing the milk at me was the last straw."

"I thought we were over this, Lauren. The deal was that we'd both put more of an effort into it, that I'd make time for you and that you would stop pulling stunts like this."

"I am!"

"But it isn't showing, Lauren. After what happened with Morgan Webster I thought you learned your lesson, but apparently not. I honestly don't know what to do with you anymore…"

"I wasn't thinking. I admit that," Lauren says. "I'm sorry, daddy."

Steve clears his throat after a quiet moment spent reflecting. "This Chicago deal could change the entire face of the company and I need to be there to see it through. While I'm gone I think it'd be best if you stayed with one of your friends. I'll call Kim or Ronnie…"

"No," Lauren says. "This isn't fair! I've changed! Sure, it's been a slow process, but I'm trying. You've told me so, but one little thing comes up and you lose all faith in me?"

"One little thing? Lauren, you put worms in a poor girl's lunch!"

"I had nothing to do with that!" Lauren shouts. Steve leans over the table with a pointed, accusing look in his eyes. It makes her crumble. "Okay, so maybe I had something to do with it, but I didn't literally put it in her food."

"But it was your idea."

"The souls skaters, actually," she says. Steve doesn't seem to be budging at all. "Okay, so maybe I had some part in coming up with it, but Alison is just as guilty as I am—"

"But Alison isn't my daughter."

"Daddy, I promise you this is the last time. Matsui suspended me from cheerleading. Do you have any idea what this is doing to me? And on top of that, he's forcing me to do this stupid thing with the yearbook. If that isn't punishment enough, my own dad doesn't trust me."

Her eyes start to water and Steve crumbles just the same. Lauren does everything in her power to think before she says or does something to ruin this.

"I think we should sleep on it," Steve says. "Dinner was lovely. I'll see you in the morning."

Steve walks away, probably to his office or his room. Lauren sits a while longer, staring at the untouched food on her plate. Tossing her napkin onto the table, Lauren leaves it for the maids to clean and shuts off the ocean sounds. She goes to take a soothing bubble bath (that doesn't sooth her much) and straight to bed early.

The next day at school lifts her spirits only a little when she's met with smiles and congratulations from anyone who isn't a Royal. They're naming her the official Queen of the Rejects. It isn't the title Lauren would want for herself, but she'll take what she can.

Lunch comes quick and along with it is Lauren's first meeting with the yearbook committee.

"Hey, I've been looking for you!" Kaylie rushes up to Lauren, who pauses, carefully trying to read her. Kaylie never approaches Lauren during school. She must want something. "Where are you headed? Can we talk for a sec?"

"On my way to yearbook committee probation, but I can talk. It gives me an excuse to prolong the punishment. What's up? Are the other girls on the squad singing 'ding dong the witch is dead' or freaking out because they know you're all screwed without me?"

"I've been avoiding that all day. Still am, actually. Not what I want to talk about," Kaylie says. "So I hear your dad is going out of town…"

"No. My dad didn't really call Ronnie, did he?"

"Yep," Kaylie answers. "My guess is he wanted to go to Mrs. Keeler for parenting advice, but with Payson's dad home, he didn't want to intrude and Mrs. Kmetko has enough on her plate right now so he chose my mom by default, but this is perfect!"

"Perfect?"

"Well, my mom talked to me about it and I told her your dad should trust you, maybe see this as a test. My mom and I can drop in from time to time to make sure the place isn't a circus. I gave her the suggestion and she passed it along to your dad and he's thinking about it."

"And why are you helping me like this?"

"Because we're friends."

Lauren has to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes. "And?"

"And I sort of have a tiny favor to ask…"

"Knew it," Lauren thinks aloud. "What is it, Kay? Jeans-related, maybe?"

"Nope. That idea got shot down and I'm moving on. Anyways, as you know, the seniors have been throwing a party every weekend since New Years and want to throw one every weekend up until graduation…"

Lauren knows and hasn't been invited to a single one.

"Well, they're sort of out of a place to have this weekend's party and I know it's short notice, but it's been so long since you threw one and—"

"No."

"Lo." Kaylie groans, so brave as to grab onto Lauren's arm.

"I don't think you understand how pissed my dad is at me!" Lauren shoves Kaylie off her. "So what if he trusts me to stay home and sees it as a test? Then, apparently, I fail that test if I turn right around and throw a party right after he leaves."

"He never has to find out."

"Kaylie, I can't believe you're asking me to do this."

"Please? I already talked it out with everyone. They weren't ecstatic about my idea either, but I think we could all use this. It'll be like a, um, a party for peace! I know it's been killing you, being shut out like this, and I think this party is exactly what we all need to clear the air."

"If you haven't gotten the memo, Kay, I don't care about them and I sure as hell don't need their approval," Lauren says, slow and sure. "So if you have a plan B, right now would be the best time to pitch it."

"Do it for me," Kaylie says. Everything about Kaylie is pleading and she is too good at that pout. "I really want this and I'd readily volunteer my house if my mom was out of town. Please, Lo. It would mean the world to me."

"Fine," Lauren gives in, "but we don't know what my dad'll decided so don't go around telling your little friends that they can have their stupid party at my house."

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Kaylie jumps in place and hugs Lauren tight. Though she doesn't return it, the smile on Lauren's face is undeniable. "I love you, Lo."

"It's funny how you only love me when I'm doing you favors," Lauren says. Kaylie just ignores that and hugs her tighter, swaying from side to side. "Okay, okay. I'm late as is."

"Okay, and you'll text me tonight, right? About what your dad says?"

"Sure."

After Kaylie gives her one last squeeze, she leaves Lauren to think about how they so easily act like friends and not friends five minutes later. She doesn't know what's going on with her friendship with Kaylie, but sometimes it's easier to just ride it out than to think about it.

Nice Mac desktops line the newsroom. In the far corner is a video camera where they film the morning announcements. The camera is focused on a desk with a backdrop of the Taft High logo, their school mascot and it's a rooster as in Hey, them Taft kids are giant cocks! Kids from rival schools can be such assholes.

"You're late." The first two words Max Spencer ever says to her. Lauren has always found him attractive. Something about his smile, how laidback and low-key he is. It's incredibly appealing, but the tone he takes with her, like he's superior, knocks him back in her book. "You're the parolee, right?"

"That obvious?"

"After yesterday." Max laughs, leaving his desk and walking to her. "Lauren Tanner, right?"

"Do you even need to ask?"

"I'd appreciate it if you checked the attitude at the door," Max says, pointing just behind her for emphasis. "You think I wanted this? All we wanted was a little equal funding and respect since it's pretty obvious the art department has been neglected in favor of athletics. We went to the school board, filed a formal complaint and won. Now Matsui is upset and gets back at us by giving us all of his castoff detention kids who cause more trouble than they're worth."

"Well, that doesn't have to be me," Lauren says, her devious (slightly flirty) tone surfacing. "As long as you give Matsui glowing remarks about me then I can get out of your way and let you do your thing. Sounds like a win-win to me."

Before Lauren can walk out the door, practically tasting freedom, Max stops her. She should have known it sounded too good to be that easy.

"As much as I don't like it, I don't believe in giving free passes." Max picks up a camera from the large paper-covered desk in the middle of the room. "How are you with a camera?"

"I rock the inverted Facebook pics pose," Lauren brags, demonstrating by holding one hand out in front of her face as if to hold the camera a little away from her and arching her body just right. "I center every time."

Max laughs even though Lauren was totally serious. "Not what I meant." He hands her the camera. It must be old with how bulky it is, gray and black with a long, protruding adjustable lens. "Do you know how to use one of these?"

"It's a camera," Lauren says, a little annoyed that he's treating her like she's a dumb blonde. "You point and shoot. Ta-da! You have a picture." Max laughs quietly, sounding genuinely entertained and Lauren is confused by how she isn't offended. Flexing her fingers against the smooth plastic of the camera, Lauren takes a closer look. "Crap. This thing is a dinosaur."

"Great, isn't it? That's the one great thing about the lack of funding," Max says. "This baby is one of the first Nikon digital cameras in existence, dating back to the early 90s, maybe the late 80s. At the beginning of the digital age it was prohibited to transmit pictures without certification so showing off the advantages of an electronic camera was so valuable back then and now anyone can just, as you demonstrated, point and click."

Lauren looks at the camera and sees a heavy, ugly ass piece of junk, but Max sees a relic to be worshipped. When he runs his fingertips along the bulky pieces, his fingers accidentally brush hers. When her body reacts to his touch, it makes Lauren uncomfortable, but Max is still fully focused on the camera. He sees something she can't and misses what she notices.

"How informative," Lauren says dryly. The last thing she expected was a history lesson on cameras from the Stone Age. Before Max can share any more potentially Jeopardy factoids, the bell rings and lunch is over. "Well, it looks like I have to get to class…"

"You two should get acquainted." Max motions to the camera. "I'm thinking of putting you in charge of the candid section in the yearbook, with my approval, of course. Maybe tomorrow if you come on time I'll show you how to use this dinosaur."

Lauren loathes the idea of having to lug the camera around, but then again she can just make Ike carry it. She's about to head to her next class when Max stops her, swinging the strap of his knapsack over his shoulder. "Listen, I know you have issues with my friends and my girlfriend, but I like to keep things professional when I'm in here. This—newspaper and yearbook—it's important to me."

"I can tell," Lauren says. Oddly enough, she means it. "Since I'm stuck here we might as well try to get through it in the least painful way possible so, fine, consider the 'tude checked at the door."

Max smiles and damn does the boy have a nice smile. Lauren can't help, but notice. "See you tomorrow, parolee, and don't break the camera."

Lauren watches him go, about to head to Chemistry (gross) but as she's putting the camera in her bag, she sees a new text on her phone. Everything slips away when she sees it's from AJ Cruz. Two words:

I'm back.

Mark Keeler hasn't ever met Sasha Belov, but today he does.

The Keelers get to the Rock earlier than usual to discuss the future of Payson's career and the business of signing with a sports management executive. Having little experience with the sports management industry, they thought it best to seek someone who's dealt with these people firsthand. Enter Sasha Belov.

"He keeps his actual Olympic gold medal in this office?" Mark asks. His wife and daughter are sitting in the chairs lined up in front of Sasha's desk, patiently waiting. Mark can't keep still for more than a few seconds and walks up to the glass case that holds framed pictures, memorabilia and coveted Olympic gold metals. There's a dinky lock on the sliding door, but anyone with a bobby pin could pick it. "There isn't even a security system in this place."

"It's much safer in here rather than the airstream," Payson says.

Mark points to his daughter. "True."

"Mark, sit down," Kim calls to him. "And stop touching everything."

He smirks. "Pay, do you hear the way your mother talks to me? Like I'm a child or Becca."

"Only when you act like a child," Kim shoots back. "Or Becca."

They share a smile that makes Payson smile herself. She's never seen her mom as happy as when she's reunited with her husband.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting," Sasha says, coming into the room. He's tired, looking like he hasn't slept in days. There's something weighing on his mind, but he's Sasha so of course he'd rather keep it to himself.

"Not at all." Payson being Payson, she'd never ask him to tell her something he didn't want to. "Whenever we go anywhere, my parents make it a point to get there fifteen minutes early. No exceptions."

"That's a fair rule to live by." Sasha nods and smiles, turning on that natural charm. "If only my own parents instilled that same mentality in me during my younger years. Alas, I live right outside and you still beat me here."

"If you're looking for a place to stay," Mark says, "you know, without wheels, I can get you the name and number of a realtor friend of mine. He knows Boulder better than most. I'm sure he can set you up with something a little more permanent."

"Sasha," Kim intervenes, "this is my husband, Mark."

"Nice to finally meet. Sasha Belov." He extends a hand and they shake. Payson knows her dad is big on handshakes. He says he can tell a lot about a man by the way he shakes hands. The Keeler women tell him it's silly, but it's one of Mark's rules to live by.

"Don't mind my husband, Sasha," Kim says, slapping Mark's arm when he's back in the seat next to her. "He's always trying to fix things even when they aren't broken."

"Thank you for the offer. I'll consider it," Sasha says with a nod. The handshake must have sufficed because Mark gives the coach a civil, friendly nod. "For now, let's talk about Payson."

"Who's ready to get this over with so she can start training," Payson adds. She never saw the point in how much weighs on the political side of the sport. She thinks they should be judged on skill and performance alone, but apparently it isn't a universal thought. Appearance and reputation mean everything in this world.

"I'll try to make this quick," Sasha assures her. "Sports managers spend their time coordinating all business-related concerns for the athletes that employ them. A good manager will do anything and everything to build a reputation for their athlete, negotiating deals with sponsors, creating an image the public can believe and essentially fall in love with. A major asset in the gymnastics world."

"Just what we're looking for." Mark rubs his palms together. "Now that Payson is on the gymnastics world radar we've been approached by different people with different offers and we just want to get an expert opinion so we aren't going into this blindly."

"This Sheila Baboyon woman left gift baskets on our hood," Kim says. Sasha nods. He saw them too. "I didn't even know mango was in season. Where did she get that?"

Mark snorts, not impressed. "Payson is the World Champion and National Champion and all she has to offer is fruit? We should have new convertibles in the driveway with big red bows."

"Mark." Kim slaps his arm again. Turning to Sasha, she assures him, "he's teasing."

"It's true," Mark says innocently. "We could always use another pair of wheels, right, Pay?"

Payson loves her dad, but he can be so embarrassing in that way only dads can.

"Sasha," Kim says, leaning forward in her chair, ready to get down to the real reason they're here. "What have you heard about this Sheila Baboyon woman?"

"Well, she is persistent." Sasha scratches his fingers down his scruffy cheeks. "I've gotten many calls and messages from her asking about Payson specifically and if she could possibly set up a meeting. I haven't gotten back to her yet, but if you're open to it—"

"No," Payson says quickly, severing the conversation. "She isn't an option."

"Payson."

"Mom."

They turn to stare each other down. Both recall the morning when Kelly Parker was in their kitchen and, as her friend, advised Payson to steer clear of Sheila Baboyon. Kim watched as Payson threw the business card away. She should have seen this one coming.

"We should at least hear what this woman has to offer," Kim says logically. "Pay, you know I love Kelly, I do, but she's also your competition. You're just going to take her word on this?"

"I trust my friends," Payson says. "It's my decision and I say no."

They stare a moment longer and Kim finally relents, "Alright."

"Sasha, who do you suggest?" Mark asks.

"Well, there is one person." Sasha pulls open his desk drawer, evidentially searching for something specific. "I've known her for quite some time now. MJ Martin. When we first met I was just starting out and she was still in college. We're still good friends, get together when our paths happen to cross. I wouldn't expect new cars or gift baskets, but if you're asking my opinion, MJ is fair, levelheaded and perfectly professional."

Sasha pulls out a business card and hands it to Mark.

"I can talk to her if you want and set up a meeting," Sasha suggests, sitting back in his leather chair. "If you do and it doesn't feel right then we can go over your other options."

"Sounds great," Mark says, handing the card to his daughter. "Payson, what do you say?"

"If Sasha trusts her," Payson says, "then it couldn't hurt to meet her."

"Excellent," Sasha says. "I'll get to it as soon as possible."

"Well, this was easy enough," Mark says, standing from his seat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a job hunt to get back to. Sasha, it was good meeting you."

"It was a pleasure," the coach replies.

"I've never heard anything but adoration from the women of the house and now I see why."

Payson groans. "Dad."

"What? If I wanted to be embarrassing, I would have added Payson especially but I did not…as true as that might be," Mark says, just to be extra embarrassing. It's clear why he took to Faith so easily. They share a sick love for making the ones they care about uncomfortable.

"Let's get you out of here before you make things worse." Kim grabs Mark by the sleeve and he wraps his arm around her. "Come on, troublemaker. I'll walk you out."

"Your parents are great," Sasha says once the Keelers disappear out the door.

"Not the word I'd use," Payson replies.

Sasha gives her a slight smile as he sits back down at his desk, finally able to give his cup of coffee a little love. As easy as that meeting had been, Sasha is still stressed, rubbing his face. Before she leaves, Payson asks, "Something wrong, Sasha?"

He notices the way Payson watches him, feeding off of his nervous tension. Sasha relaxes if only a little and swivels his swivel chair, swinging from side to side. "Payson, what do you think about a friendly meet with Boston?"

"Here or are we going to Boston?"

"Here. They've volunteered to fly down. After Tricia Skilken didn't do as well as expected at Worlds, her coach is willing to fight heaven and hell to send a message to the NGO and to everyone that Tricia Skilken is still relevant. What better way than to challenge the current World Champion?"

Once again the political side of the sport rears its ugly head.

"Well," Payson says slowly, "we have one more year until the Olympics. Competition season doesn't start until August. I think we could use all the practice we can get. I'm not intimidated by Tricia Skilken."

"And I'm not worried about you specifically," Sasha says, "but the other elite girls is another matter entirely. They need a leader. I know we've never been clear on a team captain, but it's time for someone to step up."

Payson is floored. She has to be sure. "And you think that someone is me?"

Sasha nods. "I'll make the announcement once everyone gets here."

"I won't disappoint you, Sasha," Payson says very seriously. She walks to the door and almost runs into the glass wall, giving Sasha a big, humiliated smile before continuing on her way out. She's so giddy she can barely contain herself.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Austin asks, coming up beside her.

Payson's smile is yet to fade. "Sasha made me captain of the team. Officially."

"That's awesome!" Austin's so happy for her, so proud and Payson doesn't think about who's watching when her arms hook around his neck. Austin gets carried away himself, spinning her in a circle. Payson has never feels this girly and enjoys it more than she expected.

A throat clears behind them and when Payson panics, thinking its Sasha, instead she finds her dad. This is far from how she imagined introducing Mark to Austin.

"Dad," Payson says, caught off guard. Austin instinctively takes a giant step away from her and Payson's glad. "Um, this is Austin. Austin, this is my dad."

Her voice makes it seem like she has something to hide.

"Yes. Austin Tucker. That's me." Austin's the first to extend a hand and Payson takes note of how Mark eyes Austin's muscular, tattooed arms. The moment of truth. The handshake. "It's nice to finally put a face to the name, Mr. Keeler. I've only heard great things."

"Likewise. Well, the first part at least," Mark says, returning the handshake. His expression is unreadable. "Payson, you left your bag in the car." Mark hands her the duffle and she quietly thanks him. "So what's so exciting?"

Her answer is exactly what'll make the awkward air evaporate. "Sasha just made me captain!"

A smile crosses Mark's face and it wipes away ever trace of suspicion. Payson walks into his awaiting arms, hugging him tight as he repeatedly pats her back. "That's great, kiddo!"

"And I have some exciting info of my own," Austin says, reminding the father and daughter that he's still standing there with them. "Payson, have you checked your phone lately?"

"No. I left it in here during the meeting with Sasha." Ignoring the way her dad is back to eyeing Austin like any protective father would, Payson digs around her bag. She checks her phone and has a new text message as if Austin is psychic or something. When she opens the message, Payson's face goes blank. Mark is worried, but Austin smirks knowingly.

I got FELT UP by the airport security lady and she took my jar of Nutella! Je n'aime pas! xoxo

Only Faith Giancana would.

Payson smiles. A text from Faith means her phone is activated, which means she must be back in the country.

"She text you about the TSA woman?" Austin asks.

"Yep," Payson answers and Austin's smile grows. "What's je n'aime pas…?"

"I don't like," Mark answers. "French. It's nice to know she picked up more than postcards."

"I love her postcards," Austin says. Mark is back to sizing him up. "Anyways, after I got her text, besides assuring her we'll sic KP on the TSA woman, I asked her if she was going to come out here and rejoin the family. This is what she said." Austin holds up his cell phone for the Keelers to see.

You bet your sweet gymnast ass. Gym Camp Fam for life yo. ;) xoxo -Pretty

Is she using Lauren by doing what she's about to do?

Kaylie and Lauren have steel bond that dates back to the uterus and yet most days it feels fake. Kaylie wants to fight with Lauren, push her until they break the veil and get to the core issues that are causing them to drift. However, the Royals need a decision and with some prompting from Maeve, Kaylie offers the olive branch.

That afternoon, at cheer practice, the other girls freak out when Kaylie confirms the rumor about Lauren being suspended from the squad. As co-captains, Kaylie comes up with the choreography and comforts the girls while Lauren executes, barks orders and keeps everyone on point.

After listening to their grievances and not getting anywhere, they called it a day and Maeve decides she needs a pick-me-up so they hang out at Groovy Smoothie for a bit. Maeve lets her vent about cheerleading and Lauren and even Nicky. Maeve is always willing to listen and always takes her side, Kaylie's definition of a good friend.

Once Kaylie gets home, Ronnie's car is missing from the driveway. Either she's working late in Denver or taking more cooking classes. Kaylie doesn't think much of it. She should really do homework or find a rational solution for the cheer dilemma, but Ronnie leaves issues of US Weekly around and it's so much more appealing than Shakespeare or balance of trade.

Tossing her schoolbag aside, Kaylie snatches the magazine from off the coffee table and flips through the thin pages, fashion advice here and celebrity relationship updates there. She starts to doze off, lounging on the leather sofa, when her phone buzzes, jolting her awake. After all this time just seeing Nicky's name flash across the screen still makes her flustered.

"Hey, you," Kaylie says, once she answers.

"Hey, I didn't leave my AP Calc textbook at your place, did I?"

Kaylie looks around her surroundings and does a mental sweep of her room that she keeps tidy (and if she doesn't, the maids tidy for her). "Not that I know…"

"Damn."

Hearing the stress in his voice, Kaylie sits up. She hates when Nicky's in an emotionally shaky state and doesn't know how to fix it. "Is there no one else you could borrow from?"

"No."

Even more, Kaylie hates when she accidentally makes things worse. She knows Nicky doesn't play well with others unless he's known them all his life. Nicky has acquaintances who he sits with at lunch and partners with on projects, but no one to just hang out with outside of school. Sometimes Kaylie can't help but think she stole it from him or stole him from it.

Things have changed ever since Hector moved to Albany. Nicky's cousin, Mandy, is pregnant and her husband, Matt, is starting his own contracting business. Hector decided to move there to help the newlyweds, working for Matt and going to school at ITT Tech, chasing the American dream. They're happy for him, but also miss him, Nicky especially.

"It's cool," Nicky says. "I'll just go to school early tomorrow. If it isn't in my locker then I can probably borrow a copy from the library."

"Okay. I'll keep an eye out for it," Kaylie says. "So how was your?"

"Fine. Um, Kaylie, I need to go. My dad just walked through the door and we're, uh, going out to dinner. I'll tell you about it later."

Kaylie cringes at the memory of meeting Dr. Donovan Russo. They went out to dinner for Nicky's birthday back in September and it was the most excruciating experience of her life. Parents love Kaylie. She's polite and charming and knows how to carry a conversation. Regardless, dinner was a disaster from the start. It all went wrong when Dr. Russo's opening line was "Where's Kelly?" followed by a "Who's this?"

"Okay," Kaylie says. "Talk to you later. Bye, babe." She lazily lets her phone roll away from her and turns her attention back to the magazine in her lap.

Nicky tells her that his dad has been around more, but only because it's Nicky's senior year and time to choose a college. Her boyfriend, who can be uptight to begin with, is constantly stressed and whenever his dad is on his case Nicky's more distant than usual. At least, Kaylie likes to assume it's because his dad.

At one point Kaylie really does fall asleep and the next thing she knows it's an hour later and something heavy plopping onto her, waking her up. Kaylie's eyes shoot open and she finds a miniature human with a round, tan face, chipmunk cheeks and dark, wavy hair. Her eyes are large and brown with the longest envy-worthy eyelashes and her lips are pouty (a signature Cruz trait), stained purple (knowing AJ, he probably fed her candy).

"Amelia," Kaylie says sleepily. Her hands immediately go to the baby's waist, holding her in place as she sits up against the arm of the couch. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Surprise, Aunty Kaylie!" AJ shouts from behind the couch.

Amelia squeals with delight, mimicking him the best she can and throwing her arms in the air.

It's been a few months since they've seen each other. While Amelia constantly surprises her, AJ never changes. He still dresses like he vacations in the Hamptons, crisp dress shirt, dark slack, custom leather shoes and an expensive watch. Underneath the classy, expensive exterior, it's still AJ.

Cradling Amelia against her chest, Kaylie scoots over to make room for her brother. Smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt, AJ leans over to kiss his sister atop her head and sits beside her. Kaylie smiles at Amelia and tickles her till she giggles.

"How's life under the Ronnie microscope, Kales?" AJ asks with a smirk Kaylie never thought she'd miss, but did. "Really. I'm curious. How's chance twenty-seven?"

"Weird," Kaylie says. Honesty at its finest. "She cooks me breakfast."

"And you're still alive?" AJ asks, briefly pressing the back of his hand to his sister's forehead. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Just wait," Kaylie says. "Come tomorrow morning she'll have a feast prepared."

"Jesus, I'm probably better off eating three meals a day at the Pizza Shack," AJ jokes. He uncurls Amelia's tiny fingers and when his daughter looks at him, AJ's smirk softens. "Dad called me the other day. I asked him why this is so important and he lectured me about getting Amelia baptized before demons crawl out from hell and eat her soul."

"Stop," Kaylie says. "It's what Abuela wants and her and Abuelo can't make the trip so the least we can do is have the ceremony and take a lot of pictures for them." Bouncing Amelia on her knee, Kaylie looks from left to right. "So where's her mommy?"

"Mama," Amelia says. When she looks around for Shauna and doesn't find her, AJ frowns and ruffles her hair, trying to draw her attention.

"Oh, mommy's probably grinding on whatever horny old bastard will tip her," AJ grumbles. "Kales, the mother of my child struts around half-naked for a living. Does she look good strutting around half-naked? You can bet your ass she does, but my point is I keep telling her that she doesn't have to, I'm already helping her out with the money, but Shawnee is stubborn, drives me nuts."

"Did you somehow manage to offend her when you made this suggestion?"

"Offensive? AJ? Kaylie, he practically demanded she drop the 'stripper act' and let him take care of her so she can audition for the next season of Real Housewives Palm Springs." A hand clamps over Kaylie's eyes and it comes as a surprise, but from a gentle touch. Kaylie pushes the hand away and tilts her head back to find Leo grinning down at her.

"Leo!" Kaylie cries, handing Amelia over to AJ so she can stand and hug her oldest brother. He came home for Christmas and stayed until New Years, but it always makes Kaylie happy when he visits. After all, when her parents were absent and AJ was being a jerk, Kaylie always had Leo. Even when he was busy at school, Leo always made time for her.

"Oh, so the favorite brother gets you fan-squealing his name like he invented stilettos and a hug?" AJ complains. He fixes his daughter on his knee and affectionately kisses her cheek. "And so what if I said that? Shauna watches that Housewives show all the time. I thought she'd love the opportunity to be head bitch on it."

"And the only one under a hundred and two," Leo says, squeezing his way between AJ and Kaylie on the couch. "Palm Springs is a giant old folk's home."

"Hater." AJ coughs into his fist. Very mature. "Anyways, she's got her dancer gig and the waitressing job so she doesn't fly in till later this week. When Shawnee gets in, we're going skydiving." Both Kaylie and Leo laugh, upsetting AJ who in turn asks, "What's so funny?"

"Aje," Kaylie sputters, "you hate heights."

"Remember the time you got stuck in that tree?" Leo says, obviously finding joy in the memory. "Dad was making us go to church and you hated going to church so much you ran out of the car and climbed that tree, but ended up getting stuck and crying because you were afraid and didn't know how to get down."

"Yeah, when I was ten and Ronnie used to make us wear those embarrassing shorts and bowties." AJ scowls, as if his currently outfit isn't just as ridiculous. "It's been a long time. Fear be gone."

"Still, what would ever possess you to want to do that?" Kaylie asks.

"Shauna dared me," AJ explains. "We're doing it together. Girl is an adrenaline junkie and she doesn't think I've got the balls so of course I gotta do it. Consider this an open invitation. You two can even bring your boyfriends if you want."

"I think I'll pass," Kaylie declines. "I don't see Nicky jumping out of a plane any time soon."

"What about you, Leo?" AJ asks. "You can bring your boy, Carter. Money can't buy that priceless moment, seeing white boy's face when I push him out."

Leo shakes his head, a firm no way in hell. "Only in your most disturbed dreams, brother."

"God, I forgot how loud you guys are," Kaylie says. To the Cruz men, there's no distinction between inside and outside voices. "Why are you here anyways? I didn't think you were getting in this early."

"Well, testing ended ahead of schedule," Leo explains, "and AJ doesn't have a real job."

"Hey!" AJ jabs his older brother in the arm. "I'm a stay at home dad! Miss Little Lamb right here is getting the hang of walking and ahead of most kids her age because I work with her everyday. If not, she's crawling around like a maniac. Chasing her around, feeding her and changing diapers. Did I mention she's a diva just like Shauna? Oh, and the foundation is getting an office. An office. Fuck yeah. This black sheep is getting shaved!"

"Sheep are sheared, actually," Leo says smartly.

"Go fuck a dog, Leo."

"Watch it," Kaylie says, holding both her palms over Amelia's ears. "AJ, right when I thought you were starting to grow up."

"Growing into an awesomer human being, yes." AJ holds up a finger. "Being a grown up, that's debatable."

Leo points over his shoulder, towards the front door. "We have a good ten pounds of illegal fireworks in the trunk."

"My little Lia loves fireworks," AJ explains. "Not as much as daddy, but genetics say it'll happen." He scoops Amelia up and twirls her in a circle, making the little girl giggle. "Say dada. C'mon."

Amelia just giggles and babbles, but she's so cute AJ doesn't mind and hugs her tight.

"Technically, she said dada before mama, but she was just babbling and actually knows that Shauna is mama. Trying to be funny—which she isn't—Shauna tries to get Melia to call me AJ. Can you believe that?"

Leo and Kaylie just stare at him, wondering if he realizes how genuinely excited he looks every time he talks about Amelia and Shauna.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" AJ stomps his feet. "Let's go shoot fireworks!"

Leo is less enthusiastic about their plans, stretching out his legs to rest on the edge of the coffee table and extending his arms. "AJ, we just got here. I kind of wanted to take it easy."

"Come on, Uncle Leo," AJ whines.

"Lee's right," Kaylie says. "I have homework."

"Kaylie, we're supposed to be living like every day is our last," AJ says. "I don't know about you, but saying that you did homework on the day before the world ended, that is lame. You know you wanna. I made sure to get some pretty pink fireworks just for you."

"How sweet, Aje," Kaylie says sarcastically. "Leo, what do you think?"

Leo does his best to look like he's contemplating when both Kaylie and AJ know he's going to give in. He sighs loudly and starts to sit up, breathing life into AJ's elation. Right when AJ starts to stand, Kaylie grabs Leo's shoulder and forces him back down on the couch.

"And you'll help me with Algebra II?"

Knowingly, Leo counters, "If by 'help' you mean do your homework for you then no."

"I change my mind," Kaylie says quickly. "AJ is the favorite brother."

"Alright!" AJ lifts Amelia's short, chubby arm in celebration. "Aw, Leo, don't be mad, bro. Amelia, let's give Uncle Lame-o kisses!" AJ brings his daughter towards Leo who has no other choice but to open his arms to her. AJ then wraps his arms around the both of them.

Leo laughs, amused. "What did fatherhood do to my brother?"

"This is the new, improved me. Get use to it." AJ winks. "Now let's go pop firework!"

"Fine. Let's get this over with," Leo says, repositioning Amelia in his arms. As reluctant as she is, fireworks with her brothers does sound better than doing homework. "Kaylie, you can check out AJ's new car. Remember his red convertible? Traded it in for a Suburban. #1 in the top ten family cars for 2011."

"Shut up!" AJ glares at Leo, like he'd be beating him if he weren't holding Amelia. "My Suburban is a beast. Seats up to nine, plenty of cargo space. It's not like I got a mini-van."

"So since you have a beast of a Suburban what about giving me your car in the garage?" Kaylie asks. Not even trading looks to confirm it, Leo and AJ laugh. Kaylie frowns, not getting the joke.

"Kaylie, are you kidding?" AJ asks, clearly questioning her sanity. "No way am I letting you take that car. Do you know what it is?"

"A car," Kaylie answers dumbly. "The black car's yours, right?"

"Aw, Aunty Kaylie is so silly," Leo coos to Amelia as he rocks her from side to side. The little girl with the doe eyes giggles, such a soft, happy sound.

"Kaylie, that car is a second-gen Camaro. You've seen Transformers, right? When Bumblebee goes from looking like a junker to a badass? My car is that badass, just in all black and sexy. Dad bought that for me for my sixteenth birthday if I promised to call Ronnie 'mom' to her face. My first car. My daughter was conceived in the backseat—"

"Okay!" she shouts, holding up a hand. "I definitely don't want it anymore."

"If you got your permit and took driver's Ed before your sweet sixteen dad would have hooked you up," Leo reminds her. He always seems to do that, remind her that she made the decision when she gets into an unfavorable situation.

"It's a little too late for that. I'd ask him about going car shopping this weekend, but he's stressed as is," Kaylie explains. It seems everyone is these days. "Amelia is one lucky girl and she isn't even going to remember it."

"Yeah, yeah, my kid is cute. First good thing I've ever done. Right. It's getting dark. I want to pop fireworks." AJ has one hand on Leo's shoulder and the other on Kaylie's, practically pushing his siblings out the front door.

The amount of fireworks in the back of AJ's Suburban is enough to make Kaylie nervous. AJ tries to sooth her worries in his typical AJ way by telling her that they'll probably get fined at the worst. When AJ has it in his head that he's doing something there's little anyone can do to stop him.

They drive out to the mountains and Kaylie sits with Amelia in the backseat, holding hands, while Leo tortures AJ upfront for getting rid of all of his usual classic rock and heavy medal, instead playing Disney lullabies and the musical styling of Barney. AJ is defensive, of course, and says it's the only thing that gets Amelia to sleep.

"So, Kales, how's the pet nerd?" AJ asks.

"Good," she answers quickly. "A little stressed, waiting to hear from colleges."

"Yikes. Tough times," Leo says sympathetically.

AJ scoffs. "Like you had any doubts about getting into college."

"Of course I had doubts," Leo says. "Everyone does. You never know what colleges want or how they make their decisions when it comes to admissions. Nicky is impressively smart, though. I'm sure he won't have a problem getting into his first choice. Which is…?"

"NYU. I helped him fill out his applications."

AJ shakes his head. "Start detaching, Kales. I knew that kid was too good to be true. He'll tell you you're gonna do the long distance thing and then he's gonna go off, slowly stop calling you and when he comes home for Christmas break, he'll be wearing skinny jeans, showing off his hacky sack skills and stupid tattoos, addicted to caffeine."

"He's two for four so far," Kaylie corrects. When it comes to Nicky, her brothers can't help, but tease him. Leo and AJ do it so often Kaylie has found there's no point in being defensive.

Leo turns in his seat so he can look at his sister with a gentle smile. "Do you looove him?"

"Really, Leo?" Kaylie and AJ say at the same time.

The oldest sibling laughs, seeing Kaylie's reddening cheeks. "Wow, she actually is."

"What are you talking about?" Kaylie laughs nervously and stares out the window, trying to pretend her brother isn't being so invasive. "Calling it love might be rushing into it a little, but I haven't felt this way about anyone else ever. Honestly, I haven't been so afraid to lose someone in my life."

AJ clears his throat, obviously not enjoying what he's hearing. "Don't set yourself up to get hurt. Kales, you of all people should know better by now."

"Could you be any more cynical?" Leo asks. "Don't listen to him, Kaylie. He's AJ. He's in love with a stripper. Take it from someone who's been there. Sure, life happens. People date and break up. That's the way things are. Don't be entirely shocked if it happens, but don't let the fear of the future stop you from falling in love."

Kaylie thinks over both her brothers' words as AJ starts arguing that he isn't in love ("Leo, only in your most disturbing dreams") and they playfully bicker. The Suburban crawls down a dirt path that AJ says he's been down a million times, but doesn't disclose why. The sun is setting and the sky is a light blue transitioning into purple, an orange glow outlining the horizon with splashes of pink. Once AJ and Leo get all the fireworks out from the back, Kaylie sits there with Amelia in her lap, the two wrapped in blankets to keep warm.

Kaylie watches as her brothers take the fireworks and go a little ways from the car. The first they light up makes a loud whistling noise as it shoots into the air and bursts, exploding with white lights. Amelia jumps and Kaylie wraps her arms around the youngster who's frightened yet mesmerized. Leo and AJ laugh and high-five before firing off the next.

Some time after, when they've lit at least a dozen and still have tons to go, Kaylie realizes how hard she's smiling. Kaylie doesn't feel as lonely anymore and that's so much better than doing homework.

Brian Kmetko is smarter than most kids his ages. So much so that he goes to a fancy institute for only the most gifted youth. He was offered a scholarship after winning an academic decathlon. He has chess club meetings twice a week so he misses carpool and Emily rides her bike down to meet him once she gets out.

Emily texts Brian once she gets to his school and sits out front, pulling out her History textbook as she waits. Unlike Marcus, Mrs. March isn't very enthusiastic and talks really slowly, which is understandable considering she's so old she can practically taste retirement. Though Emily sees how dates of wars and battles are important ("they shaped our nation, don't ya know?"), but she's more interested in who had how many mistresses. Basically if historical text read like gossip magazines she'd be so much more into it.

"Emily, when is the last time you did something for you?"

At the sound of her little brother's voice (she's still getting use to how much deeper it's gotten) Emily closes her textbook. Conversation with Brian always trumps reading about the Great Depression.

"Hmm, that's tough." Emily swings her legs, the toes of her worn sneakers grazing the dirt beneath her. "Just last week I treated myself to frozen yogurt."

"That you bought with money you got from collecting all the recycles and empty beer bottles in the apartment and wheeling it down to the recycle center on your bike," Brian says. Emily nods. That's also true. "You do too much. You aren't Superman, you know?"

"Thank you, Aunt May," Emily says, shoving her book back into her bag. "Ready?"

"Just about…but wait!" Brian pulls out a deck of cards and skillfully shuffles them. He then fans them out and tells his sister, "Pick a card, any card." Shouldering her backpacking, Emily decides to entertain him and plucks out a card from the middle of the deck. "Now put it back." Emily does just that. Moving the cards back into a neat pile, Brian does a couple tricks with his hands and then finally picks up the first card on top. "Three of clubs?"

"Go fish," Emily says. "Queen of hearts."

"Damn it."

"You know you're supposed to do more than wave your hands and shuffle the cards around, right?" Emily laughs and starts wheeling her bike as Brian puts the deck of cards away and wheels beside her. "I'm no expert magician, but I think you're actually supposed to do something to make sure that the card I pull and the card you pull are the same one."

"Nah, I assumed if I wave my hands around, looking cool, it'd just magically happen on its own," Brian says with such a happy-go-lucky smile.

"So where did this interest in card tricks come from?" Emily asks as they start to walk home. Brian shrugs. "Catch an episode of Criss Angel maybe?"

"Do you see any guyliner on these eyelids? Nope. Clean. Trust me, Em. You'd know it if I did," he tells her. "I don't know. Just something I've been playing around with during class."

"During class?"

Brian shrugs his shoulders, but Emily makes it clear that isn't a good enough answer. "I get bored easy," he says, "you know that. Advanced placement isn't so advanced and placed me incorrectly. All they want us to do is memorize and spit it back at them."

"That's pretty much what school is."

"But not what it's should to be," he counters. "I want to learn things I'll actually care about."

"And that's what college is for," Emily says, "but to get there you need to save the card tricks for lunch and after school and pay attention in class."

Emily continues at her leisurely pace, but Brian stops with a question that makes Emily worry. "Realistically speaking, you think college is even an option for us?"

The poverty line isn't only apparent at school, but everywhere. Everyone knows Laguna constitutes the scum of Boulder. That fact alone makes Emily want to work even harder to break out. It breaks her heart that Brian even has to question that.

"You wait. Come your senior year, probably your junior year, the Ivies are going to be fighting over you," Emily says with such certainty. "I'd place money I don't have on it."

That gets a smile out of him. It's a little strange how the roles have reversed. Usually it's Brian radiating optimism and giving Emily pep talks. This is new and different and makes Emily afraid to find out where Brian's doubt is coming from.

"And what about you?" he asks.

"I probably won't have Harvard or Princeton throwing full rides at me, but hopefully I can get some financial aid and I've started saving," Emily says. "Maybe I'll do a year at the community college, save even more and transfer to university. Don't worry about me. I have options and I have another year to come up with a plan C and even plan Z if I need it."

"It's going to suck without you here."

"I won't be going anywhere anytime soon," Emily assures him, ruffling his dark hair. "Now pick up the pace, Bry. We still have a long way to walk."

The Meadows is one of the most sketchy apartment complexes in Laguna, but they have the benefit of knowing most of the building. There's the Meadows Flasher who hangs out in the lobby from 12 A.M. to 3 A.M. and sometimes in the afternoons, wearing a trench coat and flashing anyone with eyes. Across the hall there's the couple that violently argue and then have loud makeup sex right after. So maybe they don't really know their neighbors, but they know enough to play Which of These Things Is Not Like the Other.

Emily can pick Bruce's rust bucket of a car out of the front parking lot almost too easily. It's a mystery how the car even runs when there's so much wrong with it. On the worst days it doesn't budge, the windows don't roll down and there's a big gaping hole in the bottom covered by duct tape and a rubber mat. It has a (probably bogus) New Mexico license plate and missing hubcaps. Emily would rather die than go anywhere near that deathtrap.

"Em, maybe we should go to the library for a bit or, uh, I don't know, hang out down here?"

"Brian, it's freezing out."

"Emily, we can't go inside."

"Why not?"

"Bruce's car is out front," Brian says.

"And mom's car isn't, which means he shouldn't even be in there," Emily says strongly. "We could call the cops right now—"

"Sh," Brian hushes her, wheeling closer. "You know what the c-word does around here."

Like a full moon to crazies or so the myth goes.

"I'm sorry, but it's true," Emily says as calmly and softly as she can. "Bry, we can't just let Bruce think he can walk all over us. This is our home. It was our home before he came around and it's going to be our home when he leaves." Emily winces, seeing Brian flinch the way he does. It may have been harsh, but deep in her heart, Emily is sure that's the path they're taking. "You stay here or go to the library if you want, but I'm going upstairs."

Emily kicks at the door, trying to get it open and her bike through. She's doing a miserable job until the doors swish open automatically. Brian pushed the button. That's the one worthwhile thing Bruce did. He complained to management about how the building's lack of handicap-accessible necessities. The problem was fixed within the week. No one messes with Bruce. That is, except Emily. More and more every day, Bruce tests Emily's patience. He pushes and pushes and Chloe and Brian let him. Emily can't. If she does she might burst.

After a painfully slow elevator ride, the two get out and Emily marches to their front door.

"Wait! Let me at least call mom first before you go in," Brian says. Emily leans against the side of the wall and stares into the eye painted on the neighbor's door. They didn't even bother to clean it off. God forbid taking the time to paint over it.

"Hey, mom, did you know Bruce was over? No, I'm not calling him dad because he isn't. I don't have a dad."

Emily lets her hand fall on her brother's shoulder, sympathy and rage having an internal struggle for her attention. She knows this is hard for him. Bruce isn't a father figure, but he is Brian's flesh and blood. No matter how awful he is, they're biologically bound for life.

Her back pressed to their front door, Emily hears a crash from inside, strong enough to send shockwaves through the floor and shake the door. Emily can't wait any longer, pulls out her house keys and unlocks the door.

"Em, mom's parking the car right now. Maybe we should—"

Cutting off Brian's sentence is the squeal of the front door when Emily pushes it open with her shoulder. She walks in, completely forgetting her bike. Emily charges down the short hallway to see a bunch of middle age men lounging around their living room. Emily walks into a cloud of smoke that burns her throat when she accidentally breathes in. They're all laughing and drinking in the afternoon, one on the ground in a pile of wood that was once a chair.

"Hey!" Bruce shouts. Emily has done a good job at evading him ever since the hallway incident the other morning. Now there's no chance of dodging a confrontation. "The hell d'you think you're doing here?"

"This is my house. What are you doing here?" She speaks through clenched teeth. Emily Kmetko isn't usually loud or angry, but when it comes to Bruce she feels it surface and spiral out of control. "Get out! All of you!" They stare at her, hardly intimidated and so Emily pulls out her cell phone. "Fine. I'm sure the police will make you leave."

She puts her phone on speaker and loudly dials 9-1-1, pausing before she hits the send button. They all trade looks as if to ask whether they should call her bluff or not. Emily is so enraged it isn't a bluff at all. The men start to leave and Bruce can't believe what he's seeing.

"Fellas, don't listen to her," Bruce tells them. "She won't do it."

"Give me a call when you aren't babysitting, huh, Bruce?" one guy says before walking out with the rest. When the last of his friends leaves, Bruce pops the cap off of another beer bottle. Even when the room clears out, Brian still waits in the hall as if he needs permission to enter his own home.

Emily snaps her flip phone closed and tucks it into the pocket of her cargo pants. Tugging on the voice she uses to scold the kids she tutors, Emily asks, "What's going on here?"

"You ruining things is what," he replies. "Mind your own damn business next time."

Emily firmly puts her foot down. "Get out."

Bruce laughs, plopping down in the faded reclining chair. "What'd yah say, girl?"

"I—I—"

"You what?" His voice too easily stomps out hers. "You wanna finish what you started the other morning?"

"I want you out," Emily says, jittery either from her nerves or her fear. It's too late to back out now. "Ever since you came into our lives everything has been hell! You don't care about my mom or Brian or anything but being a freeloader and a jerk! You don't even have a job. You're a pathetic excuse for a human being."

Bruce snaps and overturns the coffee table with one swoop of his bear paw of a hand. All the chips and beer fly off and rain back down, ending up in crumbles and shattered glass on the ground. Emily flinches away. Who wouldn't? Bruce moves in like a shadow, dark and looming. Emily tries to stand her ground and hide the way she's trembling.

"And you think you're so much better, huh? Why don't you just get the hell gone then?" Bruce spits, literally spits in her face. "Always running yo mouth about yr rich daddy out west. If you hate it so much why don't you just go? You know where the door is."

"I ask myself the same thing every day."

Bruce gets even closer and Emily feels like a helpless child who's fallen into a lion den at the zoo except she didn't accidently fall in. Bruce pushes and Emily pushes back.

"Stop it!" Brian shouts, finally wheeling his way closer. "Both of you!" He only stops when he's somewhat between his sister and father. "If mom walks in and sees you fighting like this—"

"Let her!" Emily shouts. "There's a lot I can take, but not this. Not anymore. My income from my job goes towards our groceries and our bills and you eat everything and you always waste the electricity and the water! You aren't good for anything!"

Bruce slams his half-full beer bottle down against the overturned table's leg. It shatters, the broken neck still in his hand, beer foaming and soaking his thick fingers. He squeezes his hand around the neck until it cracks again, the glass edges cutting through his skin and making him bleed. You wouldn't tell from looking at Bruce, a mask of fury for a face. Brian's hand pulls on Emily's elbow, begging her to back down. She knows she should, but then everything will go back to the way it always is and there is nothing she hates more.

The door clicks open and in the silence it's as loud as thunder. "Brian, we were on the phone! Why did you just hang up on me like that?" Chloe appears in the doorway and gasps at what she sees. "What the heck is going on here?"

Bruce angrily shoves off to the kitchen and throws what's left of his bottle into the sink. Catching a glimpse of the blood, Chloe rushes over to him. "Honey, you're bleeding."

"That's not what's important, Chloe," he glowers and even Chloe looks ready to shield her face. "What pisses me off is yr daughter not knowing how to control 'er mouth! I will not be disrespected in my own house!"

"This isn't your house!" Emily shouts.

"Em."

Bruce is so angry the vein in his neck is ready to break skin. Instead of saying any more, Bruce just grabs his pack of cigarettes from off the end table and stomps to the door.

"Bruce, where are you going?" Chloe shouts after him.

"Out!"

The door slams. Chloe pushes her fake, acrylic nails up through her hairline and looks at the broken furniture, crushed food and empty and broken bottles. "Look at this mess," she mutters, getting down to start cleaning.

Seeing her on her hands and knees cleaning up Bruce's mess makes Emily sick with disappointment. "Mom," Emily says, hoping it will snap Chloe out of whatever mind control Bruce has her under. "You should have seen this place earlier. Bruce and a bunch of his creepy friends drinking and getting high. Mom, don't you smell that? It's him and I finally called him out for it. I'm the only one who calls him out for anything and he flipped. Bruce is a psycho!"

"Emily…"

"Don't. Don't look at me like I'm the problem," she says, starting to feel the tears burn her eyes. "It's Bruce."

Chloe climbs to her feet with a hand of glass pieces that she then takes to the trashcan. She won't make eye contact, but Emily doesn't know why Chloe holds back, why she insists on giving this guy reign over their lives. "I just don't understand why you provoke him, Emily."

"Mom, are we looking at the same person?" Emily yells. She cares little if the neighbors hear and with the volume of her voice, they probably do. "Bruce makes all of us miserable!"

"That's no way to talk about your brother's daddy," Chloe insists. "I'm sure if you tried, you and Bruce could learn to get along. Emily, I know he isn't Davy—"

"No! This has nothing to do with dad!" Emily shouts. At this point it's like yelling at stone statues. "Oh, my God, mom. Bruce doesn't even notice Brian half the time! Brian doesn't even like him! My brain cannot begin to comprehend what you see in him."

"Emily, how can you even say that?" Chloe appears exhausted, almost sickly, far from their fun loving, carefree mom.

"Em," Brian whispers. "Back off."

Ready to explode, Emily can't take anymore, especially when her brother won't even back her up. "I can't do this," Emily says, softer, tired of fighting a losing battle. "You can live in denial all you want, but I can't." Emily heads towards the door.

"And where do you think you're going, Emily?"

"Em!" Brian shouts after her.

Not even bothering to give them an explanation, Emily figures she can go to the library for an hour or two to cool off. Surprisingly, her bike is right where she left it outside their apartment. As childish as it may be Emily slams the front door as hard as she can, sending one last message. She's ready to take off when a jolt passes through her. The boy in the red beanie is outside his own front door, watching her.

Emily knows she's a mess and he could hear why through the paper-thin, crumbling walls. She wants to say something, ashamed of what he probably overheard. Before she can, Mr. Red Beanie twists the doorknob to his own apartment, pushes it open enough for Emily to hear a child wailing inside while a man and woman engage in a back and forth screaming match.

That's the thing about the people of Laguna. The rest of Boulder knows it as the place where drug dealers and lowlifes congregate and that's true, but there's more to it. The thing about living in Laguna is that the people around you understand what you're going through because they're going through the exact same thing.

They haven't spoken a single word and already Emily feels like he gets her.

...


Authors' Note: Hey, everyone! Now, we getting to see Max through Lauren's lens, make contact with Faith, find out that Mark and Kim have matching awesome and the Cruz familia is slowly starting to reunite while the Kmetko household slowly falls apart.

Review.

#WeFaB #LLD2 #LLDforever