Warning: Hold onto your hearts, lovers, someone's must break.


We Fall Between

Why do things often fall apart without warning? Kaylie will never understand.

She didn't know she had some responsibility to alert Payson whenever Kelly Parker fucks up. That's not her job. She shouldn't have to babysit someone she doesn't know or like and Payson shouldn't either. It's already annoying to think Kelly Parker has the power to crack her relationship with Nicky, but her friendship with Payson too?

Nicky calls her the very next morning like he said he would, but Kaylie ignores it. After a good night's sleep, Kaylie is willing to admit she overreacted over I Never, but Nicky made things worse then left her at the party. She isn't ready to especially when the Cruz castle is chaotic.

Hours before the baptism Amelia wails for attention while AJ and Shauna are busy, trying to get dressed. Ronnie paces in heels, holding her phone to her ear, repeatedly dialing Alex just to be sent to voicemail every time. Leo runs around, trying to contain the madness. Meanwhile, Kaylie is preoccupied with thoughts on relationships and friendships.

Her phone buzzes. Nicky again. Kaylie ignores it and then texts him back:

Stay away from me. I'm with my family this weekend.

Once it's send, Kaylie shuts her phone off and leaves it on the corner of her bed. In strappy sandals, she leaves the safety of her room and embraces the insanity that is her family.

"Alright," Kaylie says. "I propose we turn off all our cell phones for the day!"

"Like that's going to happen. You have to surgically remove Ronnie's phone from her ear," AJ says. He's looking clean and crisp, wearing an Armani suit, pressed navy jacket with restrained saddle shoulders paired with brown trousers and a soft gray oxford. It's like he woke up, thinking he's a celebrity attending a movie premiere.

"It's mom. Aje, you're supposed to call her mom at least for the weekend," Leo scolds. His outfit is less showy than AJ's, an emphasis on how different they are. Leo goes classic, a plain white oxford with dark pants and his face shaved clean for the occasion.

"Okay, one of you boys needs to hold the Little Lamb because mommy needs to put her face on," Shauna says, handing Amelia to AJ. Blonde hair up in curlers, her face is bare, but still beautiful. The dress she's wearing is soft and drapey with a sexy sequined mesh back. Kaylie wants to ask where she bought it, but Shauna frantically races out of the room.

"Someone's looking a little idle," AJ says, shifting Amelia in his arms and inspecting her. "Maybe we should juice her with pixie sticks like they do on Toddlers and Tiaras."

"No, AJ!" Kaylie, Leo and even Shauna who pops her head into the room just in time shout together. AJ lifts Amelia up over his head, cooing until she gives him a little giggle.

"Dude, you watch that show?" Leon inquires. "It's practically child abuse."

"What? Shauna and I like to bet money on who takes home the Grand Supreme."

"Wow," Kaylie says, dumbstruck. "That's such an AJ answer. I am not surprised at all."

Twenty minutes later, Shauna comes back into the room, completely transformed. Her hair falls in perfect curls and her make up is light yet flattering, lips stained a sinful red. Shauna takes Amelia, who's still in AJ's favorite onesie, "I Pooped" written on it, and asks Kaylie for assistance. The girls go to the nursery where the furniture is all new, barely used, and the walls are painted with alternating pink and white horizontal stripes.

Shauna lets Amelia sit on a changing table and holds up the gown for Kaylie to see. It's tiny and all white lace with gorgeous floral patterns created by embroidered threads of pearl beading. Ronnie had it specially designed and made. There isn't another dress like it.

Watching Shauna get the kicking baby into her dress, Kaylie laughs. The sound in the silence catches Shauna's attention and she arches an eyebrow that's darker than her hair.

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Kaylie says, waving away Shauna's suspicion. "Just, if someone told me AJ was going to be a dad and you'd be the mom back when I was a freshman, I wouldn't have believed it. Now look at all of us…on our way to church."

"Hilarious, isn't it?" Shauna laughs. "I can't think of bigger sinners than AJ and me and now we're bringing our daughter to church to be welcomed into the Christian community and live a life of Christ? Pure comedy. This isn't how I pictured life after high school, that's for sure."

"UC Santa Barbra, right?" Kaylie asks. "That's where you were going before…"

"Yup. Feels like a whole other life," she says, trying to not lose her daughter in all the ruffles. "Sometimes I wonder what it could've been like, but I don't let it get to me. I have this beautiful baby girl," Shauna tickles Amelia who giggles, "and AJ is AJ. It could be worse."

"You're right. You could be trying to save a relationship with a guy who tells you he wants to be with you, but refuses to actually be with you." Kaylie doesn't know where that came from. She ignores her little slip and stares at her reflection in the full-length mirror, smoothing down her floral print mini dress, lost in the fuchsias and marigolds and white flowers against black rayon. "Sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"You're talking about the guy from the other day? Nicky?"

Shauna seems interested so Kaylie tells her. It isn't like Kaylie has anyone else to talk to about this. Ronnie is preoccupied and it would be weird anyways. It'd be even weirder to try to get her brothers to listen to her and they'd probably take it as permission to give Nicky a beating. As upset as she is, Kaylie wouldn't want that ever.

"Someone told me about one of his past hookups in front of all my friends and I might have freaked out."

"Were you together at the time?"

"No," Kaylie replies. "And I know it's stupid to think he didn't hook up with other girls before we started dating, but…it sucks finding out from other people and it scares me that he's afraid to be honest with me. Then there's this whole other issue about how every time we get close to, you know…sleeping together, he flips out and everything just falls apart."

"Did you ever ask why he flips out?"

"Talking about things that matter isn't exactly our strong point."

"Well, from what I saw, he seems pretty into you," Shauna reassures her. "You just need to talk. No matter how scary that might seem. There's no being in a relationship where you're both afraid to talk to each other. If that's the case, you might as well break it off now."

"Breaking up is the last thing I want, but what if he won't talk to me?" Kaylie asks. "Every time I try we end up fighting and I hate fighting with him, but I don't know how else..."

"Jason was always like that, keeping secrets with his friends," Shauna reminisces. "We'd get into fights every time I asked questions. Then it just got to the point where I stopped asking. I played good little girlfriend and smiled pretty and I know everyone thought I had it so easy in high school and I guess I did, but it doesn't mean I was happy."

"And how did that turn out for you?"

"Five minutes after we broke up I got really drunk, slept with your brother in his stupid car and ended up pregnant," Shauna says with a laugh, pushing a curl off her cheek. "If anything, Kaylie Cruz, learn from my sins."

Kaylie smiles. "I'll try."

"And the finishing touch." Shauna gently hands Amelia over to Kaylie to hold upright in her arms as Shauna gets her little white shoes on over her baby feet. Shauna then arranges Amelia's dark, wavy hair and clips a white bow on.

"She looks like a little angel," Kaylie says, cradling her niece in her arms.

"Looks can be deceiving. She is all Cruz," Shauna says, scowling, but in good humor. She then smiles at Amelia, tickling her tummy. "Isn't that right? Amelia, who am I?"

Amelia smiles with her mouth open and points to Shauna with both hands. "Mama!"

"That's my girl. Come on, baby, let's get you religious-ized."

Kaylie passes Amelia back over to her mother, who gives her a kiss on the cheek. The three start to make their way to the door.

"Hey, Shauna, do you, um…do you ever miss Jason?"

Pausing in the doorway, Shauna gives the question some thought. "Sometimes, but not in a sad way. I miss him like I miss high school, but at the same time I'm glad it's over." Seeing her pensive stare, Shauna touches Kaylie's shoulder and gives her a warm smile. "Trust me, the last thing you want to do is compare Jason and me to Nicky and you. Your boyfriend is much better looking."

Kaylie laughs, surprisingly comfortable. Shauna was the Regina George of Taft her senior year and led the freshmen hazing. Kaylie remembers being afraid of her. Now it's like she's family.

"Damn, look at my favorite girls ready for a night in the clubs." AJ holds his phone up for a picture. Shauna has one arm around Amelia and pulls Kaylie closer with the other. "Smile."

"Alexander, we're late as is," Shauna says through her smile. Kaylie sniggers every time she calls him that. Shauna does it like she's the only one who can and she sort of is.

Right when AJ snaps the photo, they hear: "THE CEREMONY STARTS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!"

"We're being summoned," Shauna says, taking one last look in the closest mirror. "Is your mom always like this?"

Kaylie and AJ exchange knowing smiles. AJ chuckles. "Welcome to the family, Shawnee."

They drive like mad with Leo behind the wheel and Ronnie beside him, complaining about Alex's absence. The chapel is the same one they'd attend when they were the type of family that went to mass every Sunday. It has a beautiful, white stone exterior with stain glass windows. Kaylie has memories of her first confession and communion, all under this roof. She knows it's silly, but as a little girl, Kaylie always imagined getting married in this exact chapel.

Inside, other families are waiting patiently. The other couples are much older and less dressed up. Darby, designated godmother, is there when they arrive. It's strange to see her dancing on a table and advocating underage drinking one night and preparing to guide Amelia on a path to God mere hours later. What were Shauna and AJ thinking when they chose her?

The priest, Father Jack, had been close to Alex when he was living in Boulder and insists they wait for him, stalling the ceremony. Ronnie is having a meltdown despite her happy smile and Kaylie and AJ do their best to reach him, keeping a lookout and trying his phone again.

Alone with AJ, Kaylie has to asks, "What were you thinking making Darby the godmother of your child?"

"It was Shauna's call," AJ says, quick to pass off the blame. "If it was up to me, it'd be Lo."

Confusion and shock tears through Kaylie as she whips her head in her brother's direction. "Lo? My Lo? Lauren Tanner? Do you even know what it means to be a godparent?"

"Her and Leo. They both helped me out big the summer Shauna got pregnant and they both helped out again when we found out Shauna kept her. It only makes sense to me, but Darby is like a sister to Shauna. Dar walked her through things when she first thought she was pregnant and sent her money and stuff when she was first starting out."

"Thank God she did."

Kaylie's extreme relief draws AJ's attention away from his phone. "I thought you and Lo are cool again?"

"For now." Kaylie hates always expecting another fight, but it's become second nature. "Things aren't looking too great between me and Payson at the moment."

"Payson?"

"I know. Hard to believe, right?"

"You chicks are so high school and Payson isn't even in high school." AJ lifts his sunglasses to rest in his hair and focuses back on his phone. "No worries, Kales. You'll work it out."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're my baby sister and the other three are your kid friends running around the castle all crazy. I've seen you together. You won't stay apart long," AJ says, so sure of himself and his logic that isn't exactly logical. "For now, we got family shit to deal with so keep that chin up, huh?"

Kaylie stares wearily. "Was that a pep talk?"

"Sure? Call it what you like, Kales."

Suddenly, Ronnie comes out of the church, panicking, and ruins the brother-sister moment.

"Where is your father? All the other families are here and we're waiting for him! This is unbelievable and so typical Alex! The entire ceremony is put on pause and everyone is wondering why and, oh, it's because of the Cruz circus!"

"Mom, you need to calm down," Kaylie says. "If dad said he's going to be here then he will."

"He should at least call to tell us where he is or what's taking him so long."

"You know he doesn't just to piss you off," AJ points out.

"And you know AJ would say something like that just to piss you off even more," Kaylie adds, shooting her brother a look that tells him to back off. "Don't listen to him, mom."

"I'm going to try his cell again…"

Ronnie curses when she's sent straight to voicemail and leaves her ex-husband a lengthy message, using words inappropriate so close to a place of worship. Meanwhile, Kaylie watches the stairs and zones out, imagining Nicky running towards her, dressed for the occasion. Even though she firmly told him to stay away, there's that part of her that wants to think he'll fight for her. He'll show up and defy her because he knows she needs him.

"I'll always show up for you, Princess."

As much as she wants to think one romantic gesture after the other can get them out of this slump, Kaylie's hope is dwindling. Life isn't a fairytale. The quicker she realizes this the quicker she'll adapt to disappointment.

It isn't Nicky who comes running up the stairs, but Alex, taking the stairs two by two, his tie flapping with every leap. He apologizes and wipes the sweat from his brows. AJ excitedly greets him with a handshake that turns into a hug and when he whispers, "Nena," Kaylie is in his arms. The greetings don't last long before Ronnie ushers them into the chapel.

After Alex has a quick, friendly word with Father Jack, they begin. It's a lovely ceremony from the moment the priest pours water over Amelia's head to when Leo lights the candle and him and Darby make their godparent vows. Being in church for the first time since Barcelona leaves Kaylie feeling rather strange. She lost touch with religion following the divorce and since the summer, but this baptism has sparked her interest once again.

Once they take at least a million pictures in front of the altar, the Cruz caravan makes its way to a local eatery for brunch. Instead of a little intimate family gathering like Kaylie imagined, Ronnie apparently invited a couple of her friends and their families. The Cruz family sits on one end of the long table and the other end is Ronnie's entourage. Amelia nods off the second they reach the restaurant and spends majority of the celebration in her stroller, asleep.

"So did anyone catch my latest game?" Alex asks.

"Baseball," Ronnie murmurs under her breath. "I should've known." Losing interest, she turns in the opposite direction and engages in a conversation about work and how crazy it's been.

"Rodrigo getting scratched from the lineup because of that thumb injury really hurt your game last Friday," Leo says. "It should've been a blow out, but they made you work for that W."

"Just goes to show, life will throw you curveballs, but if you've got the right attitude it won't stop you from taking home a win," Alex says. His kids exchange looks before they start booing him and loudly.

Kaylie laughs. "That might be the cheesiest thing I've ever heard you say."

"Yeah, save it for the Little League community service pep talks," AJ says.

"Tough crowd." Alex laughs at himself. "So, Kaylie, where's the boyfriend?"

She shrugs and sips her ice tea. "This is a family function."

"Though it seems mother didn't get the memo." AJ looks over to Ronnie's friends on the other end of the table, schmoozing. It seems Ronnie has disappeared completely, currently on her phone. Surprisingly, she doesn't seem as stressed as she normally is.

Reading Kaylie's apprehension, Leo asks, "What did he do? Nicky."

"Do we need a reason to beat the kid down?" AJ makes a fist and slams it against the open palm of his other hand. "Kaylie's face says it all. He lives in Denver, right?"

"No, Alexander, you're not going to touch him," Shauna says sternly. "They'll work it out themselves. Right now I think we should be talking about Beckman. When we were watching the latest game I thought there was a Toddler and Tiara on the mount. Mr. Cruz, you need to tell your pitcher to cool it on the spray tan."

"You two watch a lot of Toddlers and Tiaras in Palm Springs, don't you?" Kaylie asks.

They all laugh and the conversation weaves between baseball and child abuse—safer topics. They take turns picking on each other, questioning Leo's workaholic ways and trying to definite AJ and Shauna's relationship. The important thing is that Nicky never comes up again, which is good because Kaylie wouldn't know what to say if they asked.

The rest of the day is a quiet one spent at home by the fire. AJ and Shauna try to find the best skydiving service, serious about going through with it while Leo makes comments from behind his laptop and Kaylie keeps telling them it's a horrible idea. Alex encourages them to do it, always there to push AJ. Ronnie is nowhere to be found.

When Amelia finally wakes up, crazy hour begins. She crawls and tries to walk and screams her head off. There's something about watching Alex chase Amelia around the house that makes Kaylie really happy. If Alex was the same way with her when she was a child, there's no question why she's a daddy's girl and even moreso since Barcelona.

Late into the evening, Amelia's wind down hour finally arrives. The trick is to put on Sesame Street and the girl is hooked. She sits in Kaylie's lap on the couch, eyes glued to the television, barely even blinking. The word of the episode is galoshes—rain boots—and Kaylie feels like an idiot because she had no idea what that was when she first heard Elmo say it.

There's giggling in the kitchen and Kaylie tilts forward, curious. If it's her parents, she doesn't even know how to react. Contrary to her fears, Kaylie catches glimpses of AJ whispering in Shauna's ear and the tall blonde giggling and pushing him away. They're cute in a totally unexpected way and Kaylie approves. She likes Shauna and she likes Shauna for AJ. Hopefully that whole thing with Lauren was just a phase that they're both over.

Alex comes over and sits with the girls, his jacket off and tie loosened. Distracted by the shift of the couch, Amelia sees her grandpa and crawls over to him, pressing her tiny hand to his cheek. Alex smiles and pulls her into his arms, softly whispering to her in Spanish.

"She likes you," Kaylie says.

Alex chuckles and shoots his daughter a grin. "That's so surprising because?"

"I don't know. It just is. Can you blame me?"

"I'm good with kids. You should have seen when you were little. All three of you. Your mom would get so upset when you'd ask for me instead of her at bedtime. Even AJ hated being separated from me and AJ was a finger-biter who never liked anyone."

Kaylie laughs at the mental image. "That I can believe."

Alex stretches his arm out across the back of the couch and Kaylie shifts closer towards him and Amelia. "So, how has your mom been?"

"Are you still ignoring each other?"

"We're civil enough, as you saw today," Alex explains, playing with a curl of Amelia's brown hair, "but I can barely get a word in with how she's always with her friends or answering her phone. Is she like this all the time?"

"Yeah, but it's not so bad. It's a lot better than it used to be."

"Well, I'm all yours for the next twenty-four hours. What do you want to do?" Alex asks. He actually sounds excited to be spending time with her and that in turn makes Kaylie less concerned about the problems in her life. "Want to join your brother and his…um, and Shauna on their skydiving adventure?"

"Yeah, I'm not doing that. No way."

Alex laughs. "It could be fun?"

Kaylie looks back at the television screen and sees a bunch of different animal puppets parading around and how fixated Amelia is.

"How about we take Little Lamb to the park? We can go on a picnic like we used to."

"Sounds perfect, nena."

Her family may be dysfunctional, but they're all there for each other and that's what matters.

One missed call. And it's from Henley Sheppard.

Emily has to read it twice to make sure. She blinks and taps the glass of the phone, thinking it's on the fritz. Henley never attempts to contact her. They aren't even Facebook friends. Why would Henley call? Henley hates talking to people on the phone. Henley hates people.

It isn't until homeroom that Emily notices the missed call. She has both her phones resting in her lap under the desk. One is her crappy silver flip phone that she's had since seventh grade and the other is sleek and black, the one Mr. Red Beanie gave her. The second one buzzes almost every ten minutes, a different Royal with a longstanding drug dependency.

The night after the party, Emily gets stuck between Lauren, who's passed out, and Payson, who murmurs in her sleep. Unable to sleep, Emily's mind is on her moral compass. Yes, she needs the money just as much as Ike and Rodge. It's an opportunity and she'd be stupid not to take it. Then again, she's working with drug dealers, which is also stupid.

Before the morning news starts, Marcus takes attendance. He looks around the room, a hopeful shine in his eye. "Roger Fields?"

"It's Rodge, actually. I go by Rodge. Roger sounds, well, gay."

Someone would probably comment on how that's offensive, but everyone is shocked.

"Rodge." Marcus makes a note on his attendance sheet. "Okay. Got it. Looks like everyone showed up to homeroom."

Shane raises his hand. "We should throw a pizza party!"

Dressed in his usual doorman's jacket and red beanie, Rodge takes the last desk in the back corner. The chatter starts up again and everyone loses interest except Emily. She turns in her chair, having the urge to reach out and touch him just to make sure he's really there.

"Did you eat breakfast?" he asks.

"Huh?"

"Breakfast," Rodge says. "First meal of the day, arguably the most important. Did you?"

"Yeah, with my friends. I had a bagel." Emily finds it a strange way to start a conversation, but Rodge is rather odd. "What about you?"

"Stale Fruit Loops. Dry. I would've liked some milk, but it expired months ago. No one even bothers to take the carton out of the fridge. That's just kind of how it is around my place."

"We live off leftovers from my mom's diner job," Emily says. "Laguna Problems."

Rodge laughs and it actually sounds genuine.

"As interesting as this is, what are you doing here?" Emily asks. "Or maybe I should ask where you've been all semester? You know homeroom isn't optional, right? It's every morning."

"You take school too seriously. High school is the government's way of keeping us in one place and supposedly out of trouble until we turn eighteen and they can lock us up for real."

Emily finds it frightening how that makes sense.

"At the risk of sounding like a stalker, I actually showed up for you, Emily Kmetko."

Her heart thumps hard, unexpectedly. "Me?"

Rodge leans forward on his elbows and Emily leans away. "I don't like to start anything long-term with strangers."

"And you think homeroom is the perfect time to get to know me?"

"You eat bagels. I eat stale Fruit Loops. I think we're off to a good start." Rodge smiles at her and Emily thinks it's a first. His teeth are white and clean, but not perfect. He has a bit of an overbite. Braces must not have been an option.

When the morning announcements begin, Emily faces forward and her attention goes to the TV screen in the corner. Losing interest in the little skit they put on to promote the Valentine's Day dance, Emily texts Razor beneath the desk.

I have a missed call from Henley. Weird, huh? Know what that's about?

Send.

The morning routine goes on. Mr. Matsui comes on to remind them that "sexual acts of any kind" are forbidden on school property and also littering. Glen, stands and gives a bow. Half the room claps and laughs while Marcus grabs Glen and shoves him back into his seat. Maeve closes out the announcements and seeing her onscreen reminds Emily of the party. Everything is cool between the three, but maybe not the Four.

"Go forth and learn things!" Marcus shouts, once the bell rings.

Emily rushes off, hoping to avoid Rodge, and it surprises her when he doesn't try to follow. Sitting in Economics, waiting for Lauren, Emily finds a reply from Razor on her phone.

No clue. Hen's been acting weird tho. Cause for worry?

Emily doesn't know. Henley is the type that'll get upset if Razor starts snooping and Emily doesn't want to be the reason they start fighting, especially over nothing. Maybe she pocket dialed on accident? That's what Emily tells Razor anyways.

The rest of the day goes by as usual until English. Emily is at her desk with Lauren to her left and an empty seat in front of her reserved for Kaylie. Marcus is their teacher, sitting at his desk, reading Tolkien to pass the time. When Emily points this out, Lauren replies, "I knew he's a sci-fi fantasy nerd beneath the hot. They always are."

Rodge walks in and Emily shrinks down in her seat. It's stupid because she's one of the taller girls in their class and isn't exactly invisible, especially when it comes to him. He tries to take Kaylie's seat and Lauren is quick to correct him.

"Sit there and die, beanie boy!"

Rodge looks between the blonde and the empty chair, appraising the situation. "It's reserved for me. Don't you see 'reserved for reject' right there?" Both girls look at the chair and think he's crazy. "Hmm, guess it doesn't." Rodge pulls a sharpie out of his pocket and uncaps it with his teeth, ready to write right on the back of the chair.

"What's going on?" Kaylie asks, coming up behind them. "That's my seat."

"I just told him that," Lauren sneers.

"You told me sit there and die. There's a distinct difference," Rodge says, the pen cap still in his mouth. He recaps it and tucks the sharpie behind his ear. "Okay, I can take a hint."

"You'd know that's Kaylie's seat if you actually showed up for class," Emily says. Rodge doesn't comment, just walks to the back of the room and takes a seat.

The bell rings and Marcus marks his page with a pack of sauce from Taco Bell.

"Okay!" Marcus shouts. "Cell phones, iPods, iPads, laptops, Teen Vogue, Sports Illustrated, hentai, put it all away! Class is starting. Lucky you, it's finally time to discuss one of my favorite books of all times: the Great Gatsby."

Marcus is a strange teacher probably because he's a strange person. Every lecture is more like a performance, like they're his audience and he's fighting to keep them interested. He gives a brief background of F. Scott Fitzpatrick and his tendency to let his life influence his writing. When their attention starts to dwindle, Marcus attempts to liven up the room.

"Okay, you all must have read it by now. You had all summer and all fall." Marcus pushes himself up to sit on his desk. "Let's hear it. Opinions?"

"It was boring as fuck," Shane says, high-fiving Glen right after.

"One man's opinion. And next time I'm betting you can find a better descriptive word than fuck," Marcus says. The room laughs. Profanity is one way to get teenagers to trust you. "Anyone else? Come on, if there wasn't a single person in here who enjoy the book—one of my favorites—I might literally cry right here in front of you."

As cheerleader and gossip queen, Theresa, expresses her, like, confusion, like, over the book, Lauren swiftly delivers a folded piece of paper to Emily. It reads:

Give me something to say. Make me look smart!

They spent all Sunday with Lauren inquiring about college and what it takes to get in. Grades and good teacher recommendation letters would be a start. The success of her friends is as important to Emily as her own so she scribbles something down and passes the note back to Lauren. It almost makes Emily giggle, a throwback to when they were in Mrs. Sherman's third grade class and Lauren would boast about being the best note passer in all of Boulder.

Lauren unfolds the note and reads it over, promptly raising her hand. Marcus spots her. "Lauren Tanner. Yes, you can go to the ladies' room, but you have to say Ms. Roy, the librarian, let you. It's karma for stealing my parking every morning for the past two weeks."

Marcus receives even more sniggers. Even Emily almost laughs and Kaylie totally does.

"Actually," Lauren says, "I wanted to comment on the eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg." Marcus expression turns thoughtful and he tells her to go on. "I was just thinking about how the eyes painted over the billboard could maybe represent, I don't know, God."

A laugh comes from the back of the room. It's Rodge. Everyone turns in their seats to stare at him, but Rodge sets his eyes on Lauren. "Let me guess. SparkNotes?"

The room hoots, picking up the burn. Lauren is pissed; more so, Emily, who gave her the talking point.

"It's a valid observation," Emily says defensively, for Lauren and herself. "Ominous eyes overlooking corruption? It's a perfect analogy for God and people and the world."

"Okay, you two, time out," Marcus intervenes. "Rodge, I didn't even realize you were in this class or supposed to be. Two, it's a comfort to know some of you actually read and thought about it. Why don't we let Lauren finish then you each can have your turn. Lauren?"

The blonde flips her hair, eyes like daggers on Rodge. "All I have to say is it takes one to know one."

"I don't use SparkNotes," Rodge says in return. "I actually have a brain."

"And no Internet where he's from," Shane loudly whispers.

"Or laptops," Glen adds.

"Unless they're boosted," Alison says, rounding out the rich kid commentary.

The way they talk bothers Emily and so she has to change the subject.

"Then why don't you ever show up to class?" Emily asks, turning to look at Rodge.

"I do. You've just never noticed," he replies, giving Emily this specific look that makes her uncomfortable. "Homeroom, on the other hand, that shit's a waste of time."

"No, that doesn't hurt at all." Marcus mutters as loud as Shane whispers.

"If you're so smart then why don't you tell us something about Gatsby? Something you wouldn't find on SparkNotes." Emily sets forth a challenge.

"You want me to teach the class?" Rodge asks.

"Please," Lauren hisses, waving an arm out at Marcus to silence him.

Rodge straightens his beanie at the back of his head and hops up to sit on his desk. This might be the most attention he's gotten from anyone in his entire life. "The Great Gatsby is the Great American novel because it's filled with bullshit and America is built on bullshit."

"Okay," Marcus cuts in, "Rodge, nice attempt, but why don't you—"

"The epitaph," Rodge continues, "in the beginning of the book about the gold-hatted lover, supposedly written by some poet, F. Scott made it up. It's as fake as all the characters. And we can't forget the gold all throughout. He has a real thing for it. Daisy is an example herself. Her name is literally a white flower with a yellow center. She plays dumb, that way nobody has expectations of her."

Rodge glances over at a group of cheerleaders a glance.

"My favorite thing about the book is that it's set in the Jazz Age, but it's true even today. Everyone—the Bucanans, Narrator guy, random party people—all crazy rich, but none of them did it by living the American Dream. Royals act like they have it all, but Tom is cheating on Daisy who wants her daughter to be an airhead because she thinks that's all you need to get through life. Richest of the rich, and guess what? No one's happy. No one's real. All bullshit."

At the end of his bitter spiel, Rodge jumps off the table and lands loudly on his feet. The entire room is silence. Rodge sits back down in his chair with a cool slouch.

"So you think you're better off being a Reject?" Alison asks.

"If you actually read it, you'd remember the part where Daisy tells the story about her butler," Rodge says. "He worked as a silver-polisher for some fancy ass family in New York, but eventually he had to quit because the cancer-causing chemicals and shit ruined his nose."

Rodge allows for a moment of silence, waiting for them to catch on.

When no one else steps up, Emily breaks it down for everyone. "He's saying—well, the whole novel, actually—is about wealth consuming the rich and Daisy's anecdote points out that wealth consumes the poor too."

Before the discussion can continue, the bell sounds and everyone starts to leave, shoving books in bags, anxious to get to the door.

"Alright!" Marcus shouts, trying to get everyone's attention. "Now that we've heard a few of your classmate's opinions, I want to know what you think. Specifically, how F. Scott portrays the rich and the American Dream both then and now? I want at least a page, typed and printed, and be prepared to discuss it in small groups next class!"

"Extra credit!" Rodge shouts. Some turn to listen while others, mostly Royals, keep walking and don't care. "If Lauren Tanner is right and the doc's eyes represent God then what does everyone think about the eyes all over Boulder?"

Everyone else keeps filing out, but Emily is stuck in her chair, thinking. The eyes all over Boulder overlook their own corruption. Emily can't help, but wonder if Rodge found this parallel between a fictitious world and their own or if he's responsible for it.

"Was that something enough for you?" Rodge asks as he passes Emily's desk.

"Sure. A little condescending and biased…"

He groans in dramatized frustration. "Nothing pleases you, does it?"

"I think you really added to the class," Emily says, honestly. "You probably pissed off a lot of our classmates, my best friend included, but I guess you can't please everyone."

"I'd agree," Marcus says, walking up. "You did it with a few more expletives than the school board would like, but you made more than a few interesting points. You should come to class more often."

Rodge backs away, towards the door. "Sorry to disappoint Book Club, but if I'm not thrown out I'm dropping out. Just for you though, I'll give it some serious consideration."

Marcus shakes his head, disappointed. Emily gives him a sad smile before she follows Rodge out the door. "Marcus is just trying to be a teacher who actually gives a damn about us and you're kind of a jerk to him."

"I basically taught his class," Rodge counters. "How is that being a jerk?"

"Well, you're kind of a jerk to me."

The boy with a million arguments is about to speak, but stops himself. Then starts over. "Okay. Ike gave me this whole lecture about the party and I'm sorry. You can walk away and I won't be a jerk about it, but if you stay, the cash is pretty sweet and you have both Ike and me watching your back. You know you can trust him and I can try to be a none jerk."

"Why am I having a hard time believing that?"

"I can prove it," Rodge says, determined. "Let's hang out after school. We can bike home."

Emily hugs her binder tight to her chest as they continue down the hall and she turns the idea over in her head. She planned on going straight home anyways. What's the difference if he rides home along side her, right?

"Okay," Emily agrees even though she looks seconds away from retracting it.

"Cool. I'll meet you at your locker after school."

Once Rodge walks away, Emily hurries to catch up with Lauren and Kaylie, who had been pretending not to eavesdrop, but secretly were.

"Emily has a bike date. Emily has a bike date," Kaylie teases, linking their arms.

"No," Emily says. "More like…the buddy system? It's a good thing where I come from."

"Whatever. Can you please clue me in," Lauren says, on the other side of Kaylie. "Is nerd debating the new nerd flirting? I had no idea what either of you were talking about, but I'll admit, even though I think he's a total tool, watching you get all worked up was pretty hot."

Kaylie playfully shoves Lauren and Emily smiles at the two being friendly. It's so rare that Emily hates to break it up with her next question.

"So, Kay, I guess you're meeting up Maeve now, aren't you?"

"Well, actually, I thought we could hang out, just the three of us. I'm sorry I bailed after the party, but between fighting with Nicky and then Payson, I was freaking out and just had to leave. Unless having me tag along interrupts your daily routine or something…"

"Sounds perfect!" Lauren agrees, surprisingly civil. "Em doesn't have any idiots to tutor today and I'm not going to the yearbook meeting thing. This way overdue if you ask me."

The three make their way to a quiet corner of the school, talk about classes and laugh about Mr. Matsui's awkward announcement. Kaylie tells them about her family weekend and shows them pictures. Lauren mumbles a few offhanded comments about Shauna just for Kaylie to defend the mother of her niece and Emily breaks the tension, pointing out how cute Amelia is.

Emily's last class goes by quicker than anticipated and before she knows it, she's riding home with Rodge. She usually takes the main roads, but Rodge shows her a different route, a shortcut through the lowest of the low-income houses. He's fearless as he pedals around heaps of garbage left carelessly in the street and Emily does her best to keep up.

"So if you're into books then why don't you come to class more often?" Emily asks once they finally slow down a block away from their apartment complex.

"Because before Gatsby, the assigned reading was the Tempest and Shakespeare makes shit sense to me. I hate having to look back and forth between the text and the footnotes and it doesn't help anyways. It makes me feel stupid."

"Which you clearly aren't," Emily says. To which he replies, "Thanks." They wheel into the parking lot in front of their building and Emily's spirits fall when she spots Bruce's clunker parked out front. Rodge notices and asks what's wrong.

"Remember my mom's boyfriend? He's here uninvited. Again." Emily squeezes the handlebars, weighing her options. Her options: go upstairs and start another confrontation or flee, go to the library and wait it out. Frankly, both suck.

"We can hang out at my place until your mom shows or maybe he leaves?" Rodge suggests. "We can do homework. I should warn you though, my place is a shithole."

"Have you noticed where we live? What isn't?" Emily laughs bitterly. "That sounds great."

Rodge shows her to his apartment that's falling apart just as much as hers. The same water stains on the ceiling and dull-colored carpet. It smells of mildew, mothballs and meagerness. The one difference is that here the walls are bare. No family photos whatsoever.

"So where are your parents?" Emily asks.

"My dad is probably drunk somewhere, maybe with his girlfriend, if not passed out in his pick-up. My mom, well, your guess is as good as mine. She freaked out a couple years back, shaved her head and left town. I haven't heard from her since."

"Must've been hard," Emily says, though Rodge doesn't seem to have an opinion. "Are you an only child?"

"Living here, yeah, thank God. I don't know how Ike does it with two younger siblings. I cannot. When my dad's girlfriend brings her colicky baby over." Rodge rubs his head as if a migraine can come from a memory. "I supposedly have an older half-brother living out in the boonies somewhere, but hell if I know. You have a brother, right? The wheelchair kid?"

"Brian," Emily says with a bite to her voice. "Not the wheelchair kid."

Rodge nods, apologetic. "Brian. Right."

"I don't have to worry about him. Brian already has people approaching him, telling him he can skip high school because his test scores are in the top percentile in the entire country. Not to mention he loves Shakespeare. He quotes Shakespeare."

Rodge laughs. "Right when I was starting to like him."

Emily sits at the kitchen table across from Rodge and sets down her heavy backpack. His appears much lighter. "Did you bring any schoolbooks home with you?"

"Nope. Not a single one. I have something better." Reaching into the front pocket, Rodge pulls out a metal thermos, undoes the top and out slides a baggie of white powder. In an instant, Emily feels the hairs on her arms stand and a heavy, sick feeling swallows her whole. "Ike bitches about not mixing dealing with using, but fuck it."

"You know, I, um, I just remembered that I have to return these library books because they're, um, due today so I'm just going to…go. It was cool riding home together. Maybe we can do it some other time. I'll, um, see you tomorrow hopefully in homeroom."

Emily takes her bag and her bike and gets out as quickly as she can. Rodge shouts something after her, but Emily shuts the front door behind her. Her thoughts are racing and her hands shaking. She had had her suspicions that time she saw him in the library with Ike, but he's a dealer. He deals drugs. For a second, she let herself believe it stopped there. Rodge is a junkie. He's just like everyone else in this stupid neighborhood.

As she wheels her bike to the elevator, Emily tells herself she should know not to expect anything from anyone anymore. In the end, she always finds herself disappointed. Though she made up the part about the due books, Emily still intends to go to the library. That way, everything she said to Rodge will hopefully feel like less of a lie.

Never underestimate the power of human stupidity. –Robert A. Heinlein / Have fun with this one, Lo. ;-)

The only thing more fucking stupid than Valentine's Day is a Valentine's Day Dance. The one thing more fucking stupid than both those things is the idiot who walks up to Lauren and suggests she go to the Valentine's Day dance, assuming that since she's standing next to Ike that he is even an option as her man candy. Oh, hell no.

"You did not just try to push these stupid tickets for your stupid dance on me and assume I'd go with stupid Ike. Are you stupid?" Lauren rips through the poor girl. "Walk away. Now."

The girl does as she's told—her first smart move.

"What happened to making an effort to be a nicer person?" Ike asks.

"It's hard when I'm surrounded by stupid people," Lauren says, stretching her neck to look over at the girl who tried to sell her tickets. When the girl catches Lauren glaring at her she quickly scurries away. "Plus, I am a nicer person. I let Royal idiots trash my house."

Ike adds, "And I'm a nicer person for helping you clean up the day after."

"Sure. Whatever."

Lauren is actually glad Ike decides to be a good friend and help clean because she was too hungover to do it alone. Emily and Payson were also there to lend a hand and Payson roped her boys into disposing of all the empty bottles and crushed cans. Even Darby delegated orders to a horde of zombie-like Boozers. By the afternoon they were sitting around, watching Food Network and ordering Thai takeout.

"Did your dad say anything?"

"He didn't notice a thing," Lauren says. "Then he started going on and on about how I'm really starting to mature and how proud he is. Guilt tripping me without even realizing."

"Another successful LoTan and Ikey B scheme!" Ike holds his fist out for a pound, but Lauren denies him of it.

Across the hall is the boy with the red beanie, the one she vaguely remembers from her party. He was hanging around Emily then and is now. Both staring at a banner that says, "Love-Struck: V-Day Dance. Get your tickets today!" The beanie kid rubs his chins, gears turning. Lauren has a sixth sense for these things.

"Who is that guy?" Lauren asks.

"Rodge. A friend of mine."

"And what's your friend's interest in my Emily?"

"Currently unknown," Ike replies. "I wish I knew. Cool guy, but not the best to get involved with. I will say in the years I've known him I've never seen him show an interest in a girl like he does with Emily and I don't even think they've had a real conversation."

"You should have seen English," Lauren says. "He was practically fanning his intellectual feathers like a peacock, looking to mate in the references section of the library."

Ike stares at her with a dumb expression on his face. "What now?"

"Forget it," she says. "Just do me a favor and find out."

"On it."

Lauren didn't even know the boy in the beanie existed until recently. She's convinced he started showing off in class to impress Emily. Lauren invites herself over and takes her rightful place at Emily's side.

"Thinking of getting your dance on, Tutor Girl?" Lauren asks. "And with Ike's friend?"

"No," Rodge replies, not even having to think about the question. "I'm too distracted by how this poster is the sorriest ass thing I've ever seen. It's begging for a makeover."

"What does that even mean?" Emily asks.

She won't ever admit it, but Lauren knows Emily is slightly impressed by what he pulled in English. Oh, Em. Why this guy? Why not Conrad Cooper, who actually looks like he showers and has both kinds of six-pack? Lauren doesn't understand.

Rodge pulls out a black Sharpie and tells them to keep a look out. He reaches up and draws a big F over the s and t in "Love-Struck," crosses out the "Day" in "V-Day" and instead writes "card." Lastly, he draws an X through "Get your tickets" and writes "Lose yours."

"Love-Fuck," Rodge reads, "V-Card dance. Lose yours today. Hmm, I wonder who did that…"

"It's a mystery," Lauren says sarcastically.

Ike grins at her. "Any more incentive to go to the dance?"

"More than before, but it's still the stupidest thing ever," Lauren says. "That's a no."

"Ditto," Emily agrees.

"So are we getting out of here?" Rodge asks. His expectant gaze moves to Emily and Lauren's attention follows, along with Ike's, putting the dark-haired girl on the spot.

"Someone sure works fast," Lauren murmurs.

"We live together," Emily says. "I mean, in the same building. He's my neighbor."

"No work today?" Lauren asks. "Not that I'd blame you for skipping out."

"Nope. And I plan on making the most of it," Emily says. "I have homework to do and reading…unless you want to track down Kaylie and listen to her vent about your abandonment of the cheerleaders and about her and Nicky and how she's overwhelmed by life in general?"

"Tempting, but I think I'll pass," Lauren says. It's a nice alternative to what she really wants to say. Lauren pulls a slip of pink paper out of her back pocket and holds it up for Emily to see. "The Cameraman demands to see me."

"I hope Max knows this should be considered overtime," Emily says.

"If he doesn't, you can bet I'm telling him," Lauren says. "I knew I should have talked Matsui into making it by the hour. That would have made this thing go by so much faster."

"But you made the bed," Emily starts.

"I know, I know. I made the bed and now I need to fuck in it…or something like that." Lauren winks. She assembles her defenses and points threateningly at Rodge. "No funny stuff. If anything happens to her I will back you over with my car. Got it?"

Lauren is significantly shorter than the boy with the red beanie, but she doesn't back down. She goes at him with the same intensity she had when ripping on the ticket salesgirl. Rodge gives her a boyish smile and says, "got it," before Emily and him walk off.

"So does that mean you approve of Rodge courting Miss Emily?"

"He's a greaser and definitely trouble, but a little male attention from a bad boy will be good for her, I hope." Lauren snaps a picture of the banner with her phone. "Yes, I'm tweeting it first."

"I only would have said something if you didn't."

"And I still want you to get him alone and interrogate him," Lauren says. "Treat it like Emily is your sister and your friend is a green-haired boy trying to get her pregnant and stuck in Laguna. That should do the trick."

"Emily told you?"

"We tell each other everything. Get used to it. For the record, your sister has a right to be pissed at you. If I had a brother who tried to pull that I'd be on a bitch rampage."

"I couldn't just stand by and do nothing."

"Ike, if she wants to have sex she's going to have sex and thinking you can change that is, well, do I need to point it out? Stupid. End of story."

"I'm not listening." Ike holds his hands over his ears. He smiles and Lauren gives him an eighth of a smile in return. Suddenly her phone starts to vibrate and when she looks at the screen, a full smile stretches across her face.

"Did you just find out you won the lottery?" Ike asks.

"No. Yet another stupid question."

"Then what's with the smile?"

"Texting a friend," Lauren says, starting to walk down the hall.

Ike hurries after her. "You mean Razor?"

Lauren stops, pressing the screen of her phone to her chest incase Ike is looking over her shoulder. "How do you know about Razor?"

He smirks, not quite one of AJ's signature up-to-no-good smirks, but Ike definitely thinks he has an ace up his sleeve. "Emily and I talk too."

"Okay, creepy," Lauren says. "Why are you staring at me like that? Creepy—er."

"Tell me something, Lauren. Why is it when a quote/unquote 'hot guy' Edward Cullen type stares at a girl it's considered 'alluring' and 'sexy,' but when a plain-looking Harry Potter type stares at a girl it's considered stalking?"

"You actually think you look like Harry Potter? The rat guy, maybe."

"That's not what I'm saying…"

"And you just referenced Twilight. So two years ago." Lauren would give him a playful shove, but that would mean touching Ike and that jacket he's always wearing (probably never washes) and Lauren doesn't know if it's worth the risk. "You're being extra weird today and this has been fun, but I have to go meet Cameraman in…five minutes ago. Damn it."

When Lauren starts walking again, Ike speeds up with her. "Want me to wait for you?"

"I think your time will be better spent with homework or something that doesn't come in a pill or a powder."

Lauren starts walking again and this time Ike doesn't follow. Instead, he loudly shouts after her, "So is that a 'no' to going to the V-Card Dance together?"

She turns to face him and disregards all the staring, nameless faces, itching for new drama.

"For me to give you an answer you'd have to ask me, which you didn't." Lauren turns on her heels and goes to the newsroom. As expected, Max is already there, but when is he not?

When Max notices her, he stops what he's doing on the computer. "Hey, you didn't show up to the lunch meeting."

"I got your note saying to meet you after school," Lauren says, holding it up.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can ditch our regular meetings."

"I don't do overtime," Lauren says. "So what's up?"

"You have your camera?"

"I don't go anywhere without it." Lauren rummages through the leather bag hanging on her shoulder and hands the camera over to Max who connects it to the computer.

"I sneaked a peek at your party…"

"What were you doing in my room?"

"Your friend, the blonde one, way too serious and kind of awkward, hangs out with Austin Tucker? She can explain." Max drums his fingers against the table, waiting as it loads.

"Did you do something to Payson?" Lauren asks protectively. The atmosphere changes with Lauren's question and when Max picks up on it, he twists in his chair and faces her.

"You really care about your friends, don't you?"

"Well, I don't have brainless Royals begging to be my friend, not that I'd want that anyways. I actually work to keep my friends and they're actual friends that I know have my back."

Max quirks both brows. "Same goes for Kaylie?"

Her demeanor darkens even though for once she isn't the one fighting with Kaylie. The fact that they're civil doesn't make their friendship a topic she wants to discuss with him. "I didn't come here to talk about Kaylie. I don't need you taking what I tell you back to your girlfriend for her to twist around and use as an excuse to start drama."

"We aren't on a reality TV show, but I get it," Max says gently. "Now, about these pictures…"

"Are you going to tell me they look like crap again?"

"I actually like them," Max says. "I was just as surprised and a little drunk so I wanted you to come in here so we can look them over. Cool?"

Max pulls up one of the empty swivel chairs and pats the seat for Lauren to sit. He then starts clicking through the set Lauren took over the course of the last week. She finds herself a little on edge, waiting for what he has to say. Despite the lessons Max has given her, Lauren still doesn't know what she's doing. She just takes pictures and deletes the ones she doesn't like.

"This isn't one of my favorites," Max says. He points around the photo as he explains, "the composition is a bit of a mess. There's too much to look at so it takes work to figure out what it is you want us to see."

He clicks to the next and Lauren almost forgot she took it. In the picture, Payson and Emily are on the balcony at her house, sharing a lounger and laughing together, unaware Lauren and her camera were spying on them. The setting sun is their backdrop. The sky is a brilliant mix of orange and gold, so striking, as if a bomb has just gone off, which seems scarily appropriate considering everything that happened at the party later that night.

"This one's fantastic," Max says. "Your use of natural lighting and the color tones. How real and happy your friends are, not posing or trying to give the camera what they hope they look like, just what they are. It's a great picture."

"Really?"

Max tears his eyes from the screen, intrigued by the doubt in her voice. Lauren hears it herself and wishes she hadn't. She prides herself on being strong and consistently self-assured. When it comes to being out of her element, not so much.

"Sure," Max says. "What? Lauren Tanner isn't used to compliments?"

"As you pointed out, I spend more time on the opposite side of the camera," Lauren says, refusing to meet his eyes. "I usually just stick to what I'm good at and I never thought photography would be one of those things."

"I don't know if you should renovate your basement into a darkroom…even if that's what I did, but, you have an interesting eye for things, beauty especially. There are a dozen others here that are just…beautiful. What were you thinking when you took this one?"

"I don't know."

"There must have been something."

Realizing that they're the only two in the room, Lauren explains, "I'm not like Payson or Emily. They're my friends and, yeah, include me in, but sometimes I don't get why. We're so different. Most times I think I'm the 'bad one' and proud. Pay and Em don't have to be bitches to like themselves. It's like, I'm apart of it, but I wish I could feel apart of it?" Max stares at her, searching for something Lauren doesn't want him to find. "And you totally don't care."

"No," Max says softly. "I know the feeling."

"Why do I find that hard to believe, Mr. Perfect?"

"Mr. Perfect? Right. This whole Royals vs. Rejects is bull." Max minimizes the window on the desktop and pulls up another. He brings up a photo from homecoming where Maeve won queen and subsequently Max won king. "I'm not this king of the school guy. I'm a yearbook-slash-newspaper geek. Do you see how genuinely happy Maeve is?"

"She looks so happy she could cry. Like, literally."

"Exactly, and I thought it was the stupidest thing to be happy about," Max confesses. "I would have rather been the guy taking the picture and making fun of the 'Royals' or at home in my darkroom, but all this comes with dating the most popular girl in school. So, yeah, I know how it feels. I'm a 'Royal' but I don't feel it."

When the words run out, Lauren realizes this entire time she's been staring straight into his eyes, dark brown, gentle and unblinking. When she first got forced into this, Lauren didn't expect compassion and understanding from Max Spencer.

When their stare stretches too long and becomes far too intimate, Lauren mercilessly searches for any change of topic. "So, you have a darkroom at your house?" Lauren asks. It's lame and when the lameness registers, the spell finally breaks.

"Um, yeah," Max says, a little caught off guard by the shift. His lips tug to one side in a way that can only be described as dangerous. "Maybe I'll show you sometime."

"Maybe." Lauren inwardly grimaces when the word slips and it sounds like flirting. She knows not to go there. To even push that boundary without actually crossing the line would be stupid. "So are we done here?"

Max is confused by the sudden cold shoulder, but doesn't address it. "Sure. Just don't miss another lunch meeting, okay? If you do I might have to report you."

Lauren agrees and leaves once she grabs her camera. She goes back to texting Razor, something familiar and safe. Did she seriously entertain the idea of flirting with Maeve Benson's boyfriend? It must be all the Valentine's Day nonsense melting her brain.

As she walks an empty hallway, Lauren rips down one of posters for the Valentine's Day dance and leaves it on the floor, a tear straight through a glitter heart.

Wednesday is Awesome Cuddly Animals Day, arguably one of the best days of the week.

Practice at the Rock ends early on Wednesdays and while most of the gymnasts go home to work on their home schooling assignments, Payson, Conrad and Becca go to the local humane society. Kim has friends who run it and thinks community service will keep the girls well-rounded individuals. Conrad tags along because he loves animals.

Payson smoothes her red volunteer shirt down her stomach, the logo over her heart. She grabs her bag and heads outside the locker room to where Conrad, wearing an identical shirt, is waiting with Austin. Conrad bashfully stares at his feet, which can only mean Austin is teasing him about something.

"Austin, shut up, man."

"Pay!" Austin shouts, waving a CD case. "Connie made your friend, Emily, a mixtape."

"It's a burnt CD of songs!" Conrad says defensively.

"Which is the definition of mixtape." Austin hands the CD to Payson.

"We were talking about music at the party and I said I'd make her a totally platonic list of the best songs country music has to offer," Conrad explains. "Pay, can you please give it to her?"

"Sure, Con." Payson tucks the CD into her bag and turns to Austin. "So, are you sure you can't volunteer with us? Austin Tucker photographed with cute, cuddly puppies. It'd be great for your image."

"One word: al-ler-gic," Austin says. He's said it a million times over and over again, but Payson always likes to bring it up. "And since when does Payson Keeler care about image?"

"Since she became Gymnastics' It-Girl," Conrad announces. He forms a box with his thumbs and index fingers, framing Payson in the center. "An image of a winner." Conrad then shifts to frame Austin. "And you, Aus, wear an image of destruction and womanizing."

"Hey, not all of those stories are true!"

"Sure, Mr. Cobalt," Payson says.

In Rio, Austin played up his Bad Boy front, arms around different Cobalt models, whispering in their ears, wearing more-expensive-to-buy-than-make Cobalt sunglasses. Underneath her focused face, Payson was bothered, seeing him flirt with nameless faces by the pool. Kelly and Faith were ready to kill him in front of the cameras, but Payson held them back.

She knows better than to get upset and punish him for something he has no choice but to do. It's an act for his sponsors, cultivating this "image" to meet public expectation. Payson is strong and secure and doesn't panic over his showboating. Now she understands what Kelly meant, saying gymnastics is one part skill, one part image and one part acting.

"Jeez, guys, you know there's nothing I'd love more than to do community service, getting down and dirty with you and cuddly animals and make sure Connie doesn't try anything funny." Austin playfully elbows his friend. "But there's a little thing called allergies."

Payson shakes her head, ponytail swinging. "Excuses."

"No, he actually has allergies." Conrad backs up his boy like always. "You know Lady, the pregnant husky, yeah, I brought her home so I could keep an eye on her overnight and Austin got all puffy and sneezing. We had to call in a service to disinfect the entire lake house."

Knowing the giant dumpsite their lake house can be, Payson says, "I hope you tipped well."

"Very," Austin assures her. "Alright, while you play with puppies, I have a Skype date with my sister, where she'll probably complain about my parents and how difficult and/or boring her life is and how I don't understand what she goes through because I'm a boy and/or stupid."

"Hot Wednesday night!" Conrad shouts. "I'm a little sad to be missing it. Skype with Rapunzel is always interesting. Well, except the part where she tries to get Austin and me to make out. To be honest, I'd much rather make out with her. No offense, Aus."

"Offense taken," Austin says firmly.

Payson laughs. "Well, I'd be a little worried if he wanted to make out with you more than your sister."

"His hot sister," Conrad says with a teasing smile.

Austin isn't serious very often, but when he is, most of the time it has something to do with his sister. "Con, if you don't shut up about Ava, I'm telling Becca about the mixtape for Emily and the KP Knockoffs and the girl you've got in Kentucky. Who's womanizing now?"

"Please don't," Payson says. She's gotten past the part where it's fun to tease Becca about it. Now it's annoying. "She's spending some quality time with the mirror as we speak and just for you, Con. You know that she has the biggest crush on you, right?"

"Yeah. I ain't blind or stupid," Conrad says. "All I know is when I was her age and I had a crush on Hilary Duff I would have killed to be around her or just have an autographed poster."

"Taylor Swift, Hilary Duff and Kelly?" Payson asks.

"And Jackie Nevada, chick that'll trick you with the sweet southern accent and steal all your cash playing cards," Austin adds. There's a story there, one that makes Conrad grin. Austin remembers their initial topic and says, "Hmm, which of these things is not like the others?"

"I reserve the right to not be judged by Coupleland." Conrad holds his hand up as if taking an oath.

"Hey, guys!" Becca bounces up to them. She obviously put effort into her appearance, every dirty blonde hair in place. Her shirt matches Payson and Conrad. "What are we talking about?"

"About how we're all waiting for you. Now, come on, let's go." Payson hurries her along. Becca narrows her eyes, telling Payson that she's being embarrassing and Payson begins to understand why her parents get such a kick out of it. "Bye, Austin."

"Bye, Pay," he says in return. "And, Connie, I expect my car back in one piece!"

"After the girls and I go off-roading, we'll see. Say hi to Little Tuck for me."

Conrad whirls the keys around his finger and Austin goes over to wrestle them away. It's Conrad's turn to play keep away, stretching his long arm above his head. Austin lightly jabs Conrad in abdomen, making him double over. Payson ushers Becca to Austin's car, not even trying to stop the boys and their horseplay.

Out of nowhere, a woman approaches the Keeler girls the way a shark would approach its lunch. She's older, short and stout, and practically has dollar signs in her eyes. "Hello! You're Payson Keeler, are you not?"

"Who's asking?" Becca snaps, the spunky little bodyguard she is.

The woman regards Becca like she isn't a threat, something like cute on the tip of her tongue. "Sheila Buboyan, sports manager extraordinaire or so I'm told."

That's not what Payson's heard at all.

"Sheila?" Conrad shouts after them. Payson watches Sheila's face when her attention moves to her former client. The iciness of Sheila's stare is familiar for some reason even though Payson has never met this woman before in her life. A hand on Becca's arm, Payson pulls her younger sister back as if she's afraid the woman might sprout fangs and attack.

"As I was saying," Sheila continues, ignoring Conrad, "did you happen to receive the gift baskets I had delivered? I hope they were to your liking. I didn't actually have a list of possible allergies so I ball parked. I hope we can get to know each other better in the future."

"Um, it was really nice of you," Payson says politely. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," Sheila says. "So I was wondering why I haven't heard from you."

"Oh, well, my parents and I discussed it and we decided to go in a different direction, but thank you for your interest and the baskets. My mom really enjoyed the mango."

Sheila's enthusiasm washes away like throwing a glass of water at a watercolor painting and watching as it all bleeds together and slips away. "There must be some mistake."

"You heard her." Conrad steps in, protective of the two girls. "We should get going. We don't wanna be late."

"You said something, didn't you?" Sheila hisses at him. The way she's quick to attack is familiar too, but Payson's preoccupied, worrying about their safety. "Not only do you ditch me like I'm some clingy groupie, but you're trying to take away future clientele?"

"Conrad had nothing to do with it." Becca sticks up for him. Sheila towers over Becca in the way Ursula towers over everything in the showdown scene of Disney's the Little Mermaid.

"Becca, get in the car," Payson orders.

"It's not like I'm leaving you for a different manager, Sheila," Conrad argues.

"No, but you are throwing away your future, a bright one we could have both benefited from!"

"That's one opinion, but not mine. Nice seeing you, ma'am, but we best be on our way." Conrad would probably politely tip his hat to her if he were wearing one. The three quickly walk the rest of the way to Austin's car and pile in. "I, for one, am glad I got away from that crazy bitch when I did."

"I think we both lucked out. Not going with her might have been my smartest career move so far," Payson says, making a mental note to thank Kelly for the heads-up.

"And me signing with her might have been my dumbest. Should've listened to my parents on that one." Conrad fiddles with the stations at a stoplight, happy when he finds a Christian rock station. "Austin hates when I mess up all his radio stations so of course I gotta."

The Boulder Humane Society is right on the edge of the city limits, a cute and quaint little animal sanctuary. Mostly, the volunteers walk and feed the animals, clean kennels, assist people through adoptions or viewings and whatever asked of them. It's chilly yet sunny and once they arrive, the girls button up their coats and get to work.

Payson sweeps up the cement walkway when Conrad comes running at her, full speed. He's wrapped in plastic, complete with latex gloves and Conrad's special level of excitement.

"Payson! Lady's giving birth!" Conrad grabs her and drags her straight to the clinic. He urges her get up close and personal, but she chooses to watch from afar.

Conrad is down on his knees, assisting the veterinarian the entire time. Truthfully, Payson finds the entire thing kind of gross, but she does learn that Conrad really does love animals and knows what he's doing. Afterwards, Payson takes a closer look at the newborn puppies and Becca launches her grand scheme to somehow get their parents to let them adopt one.

At the end of the day, Payson notices everyone giving Conrad hugs. At first she writes it off as them showing their gratitude over him helping deliver the puppies and just because Conrad really likes hugs, but she hears someone says, "we're really going to miss you," and Payson knows there's something going on.

"So." Payson approaches Conrad while they wait for Becca in the bathroom, making herself presentable. "Your ex-manager thinks you're throwing away your future and everyone is saying they're going to miss you. Where exactly are you going and why don't I know about it? Are you changing gyms again?"

"Pay, do I look like a gym slut?" Conrad asks humorously. "Man, I was wondering when you were going to ask…" He sits on a picnic table and pats the spot next to him. Payson promptly fills it. "Payson, I'm joining the army."

A beat.

She lifts her eyebrows in question. "Okay, where are you really going?"

"I took the ASVAB, the test recruits have to take to enlist, and I feel good about how I did. I still have to take the physical exam and sit down with a counselor, sign contracts, get sworn in and all that. For basic training I've requested Fort Knox in Kentucky, but I'll end up wherever they got room. My recruiter said not to expect anything, but it didn't hurt to ask."

Conrad's explanation is one she hadn't been expecting. It robs her of all ability to communicate. It becomes so quiet between them you can hear the rustling blades of grass with passing breezes and the way Conrad nervously cracks his knuckles.

"Jesus Christ, I'm gonna have to cut my hair."

"There isn't that much to cut," Payson says flatly. Conrad throws his head back with a laugh while the blonde gymnast stares at him, blank. She keeps waiting for her mind to put everything together, but that isn't happening. "Why? I mean, not the haircut, but why enlist? Not that I think either is a bad thing, but…why?"

"Because I want to."

"But gymnastics…"

"Payson, I love gymnastics," Conrad says, drumming his feet against the bench. "I love it…but I don't feel like I'm doing anything, you know? Like I could be doing something, really doing something, mattering, but instead I'm doing photo shoots and in the gym from before the sun comes up to after it's down. I just…I'm searching and maybe this is it."

"The army, though?" Payson frowns, but only because she cares that much.

"My grandpa was a drill instructor and he'd tell me stories. I remember thinking, damn; he mattered in the best way. All my life my parents pushed me to gymnastics and to follow them to the Olympics. It got to be too much. We made a deal that if I got to this point and still wasn't feelin' it then I could stop without judgment or shame. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad my parents pushed me and I love gymnastics, but I think it's time for something else."

That's the difference between Payson and Conrad. He's searching for something greater than gold, while Payson can't imagine anything but. She isn't searching, but honed in on what she has to do. The way she sees it, if Conrad wants to wander then he should. No one should be judged for having a different dream.

Payson sighs, but smiles. "As long as you're sure you want this…"

"Sasha said the same thing. He also said I'm making the stupidest, most asinine mistake he's ever seen. I'm sure you share the sentiment even if you won't say it." Conrad winks at her and Payson laughs because he knows her well. "Maybe I am a fool, but at least I can be happy, knowing I made the decision for me. How many kids in our business can say that?"

"I never really thought of that." Suddenly, Payson's eyes widen and she grabs onto Conrad's arm, her face tinted with alarm. "Con, what is Austin going to do without you?"

He relaxes, mirth in his eyes. "I ain't worried about Tuck. He's got you."

Conrad is always so sweet and he doesn't even realize it.

"Yeah, but I'm not the one who willingly sits around with him for hours, killing zombies or whatever it is you do. Not to mention, the ninja training obstacle course you two were building behind the lake house. How's Austin handling this? You did tell him, right?"

"Like I could keep something like this from Austin." Conrad scoffs at the thought. "I asked him not to tell anyone, though. I don't want everyone at the gym making a big deal about it. Plus, I'm pretty sure Aus is in denial. He'll probably throw a tantrum about it when the days start counting down. I did promise to finish up the ninja training obstacle course before I ship out."

"The Rock isn't going to be the same without you."

"Aw, Pay, you gonna miss me?"

"Coop, it's ridiculous to think I wouldn't."

"Good because it would have been awkward if I said I was gonna miss you and you didn't feel it back. It would have been a long drive back to your house."

Conrad extends his arm and Payson scoots closer until she's up against his side. She feels his muscles tighten around her and Payson brings both arms around him. She takes a moment to memorize everything about him from his scent to the bristly feeling of the invisible hairs on his chin against her cheek. Payson makes it a point to look into his eyes that are so blue they're practically clear. She's sure Conrad is cataloging this moment along with her.

"You know this is going to crush Becca, right?"

"I'll promise to write?" Conrad says, but it won't be enough. "I guess that's why they call it a crush. Just like me when Kelly Parker shot me down…five times. Or when Lizzie McGuire went off air or when Taylor Swift got cozy with John Mayer. Joe Jonas I could take, but John Mayer? He sings and breaks hearts. The hell am I supposed to compete with that?"

Payson curls her fingers into the sleeve of the shirt he's wearing, keeping his arm around her. They stay like that, hoping this moment will be enough to hold on to when he's gone.

"What about the girl Austin mentioned, whose name sounds like a drink at a Texan bar?"

Conrad smiles, probably thinking about her. "Jackie Nevada, the one that stole my heart and kept it. Nah, I'd have to classify that one as a little more than a crush."

"Have you told her?" Payson asks. Conrad just hugs her tighter. "Conrad…"

"Hey, what's going on?" Becca walks over, filled with suspicion at the sight of her sister and her crush clinging to each other like two shadow-monster-fearing children in a cave.

They manage to dodge Becca's ridiculous suspicion until they arrive home. Payson goes inside while Conrad breaks the news to Becca. She wants to stand by and watch, but knows they deserve some privacy. She walks inside, already trying to come up with a plan to ease Becca's inevitable heartache. She's momentarily distracted by the fantastic smell that fills the house.

"Mark, you're overreacting," Kim says from the kitchen. "Stop it. Payson wouldn't like this."

"Thank you, Aunt Kim!"

That voice makes Payson doubt whether she's awake or if this entire day has been a dream.

"I don't know, Uncle Mark, sometimes a hug is just a hug, but what do I know? In Paris, I almost cried my eyes out when I turned on the TV and I couldn't understand anything they were saying. Seriously, I had to watch TV and make up my own storylines to go with it!"

"Nu-uh. Your fast talking trickery doesn't work on me, Faith Giancana," Mark says. "No changing the subject. I know what I saw. That Austin Tucker thug with his tattoos and his charm and his wandering hands! When they were hugging, his hands were all over her—"

Payson loudly shoves past the swinging door, ignoring the thousand warning signals saying she's walking in on something embarrassing. All she knows is she couldn't stand to eavesdrop anymore and had to know if this was real or all in her head.

Kim and Mark stand at the kitchen island. She's tossing a salad as he hovers over a tray of salmon. Payson stares at the girl in front of the oven with mitts on her hands and an apron wrapped around her petite figure. No longer a strawberry blonde, her hair is dyed a dark auburn with bangs that sweep across her forehead. Confirmation comes in the form of it deep blue eyes and a giant smile that would look goofy if she weren't so damn pretty.

"Faith?"

"Pace!" Faith squeals, almost dropping the pie she just pulled from the oven. "Oh, my gosh! I wanted to be waiting for you wearing only this apron, but then I figured, inappropriate, right?"

Payson drops her bag as Faith slides the pie onto the counter and they meet in the middle of the kitchen. Payson and Faith hug and stay that way with literally no space between them. Faith smells sickeningly sweet, her signature vanilla, but Payson isn't bothered by it, too excited and showing it with a smile of her own.

Faith Giancana is back in Colorado. Something tells Payson nothing after this will be the same.


Author's note: Honestly, it makes us a little sad to hear a few of you aren't digging the way we're writing Kaylie. It only makes sense because we see the bigger picture and already know what's going to happen. We can assure you that Kaylie's journey is a heartbreaker (much like the other three) and her transformation (that you're only starting to see) feels right. You can be the judge of that later.

Q: "Are Kaylicky ever going to be like the way they were in Barcelona?"

A: Straight up: no. Relationships (at least, in our joint experience) are live and constantly changing. We learn new things every day that shape the way we interact with the people around us. There are so many different things that affect us individually and consequentially our relationship. It's a real and raw and something our characters will experience.

Review.

(If you must flame, you must. As long as it's your honest opinion, go for it.)

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