When I wake, sunlight is already streaming through the windows. That's odd. Dad never usually lets me sleep this late. I lay in bed for a moment, listening for the sounds of Dad making breakfast, but I hear only the birds outside my window and the silence of the apartment. That's when I remember.

I take a deep breath and sit up. My phone tells me that it's almost 10:30. After a few moments, I get up and go shower. I stand under the hot water for a long time just thinking about things. Chase. Dad. Oakville. Before I come to any conclusions, I get out of the shower and get dressed. I rummage through the cabinets looking for something to eat, but nothing I find seems appetizing.

I look up and all I can see is the door at the top of the stairs. It's standing ajar and the light is shining through the crack like something from a horror movie. Suddenly, I find myself walking toward it, pushing the door open. There are several drops of red on the carpet surrounding a bigger spot in the place where the shelf hit his leg. Panicking, I back out of the room and sit down on the floor, suddenly dizzy.

I've never been particularly queasy at the sight of blood, so it takes me a few minutes to figure out why I'm freaking out. When I do, I realize it's because I don't know what I would do if I lost Dad. Ever since Mom died when I was five, Dad has been my sun, moon, and stars. He's the only one who keeps me together, even with Ryan and my friends. At the end of the day, it's me and Dad in our little apartment, taking on the world. If Dad were to die, I would be completely screwed. They would ship me off to like with Aunt Mona, Uncle Davis, and their nine kids, who, as much as I love them, I would still not be able to deal with 24/7, or Grandma Blake, who is almost nuttier than peanut brittle, God love her. I need Dad.

As I'm going through all of this in my head, almost to the point of hyperventilation, when there is a knock at the door. "It's open," I whimper as loudly as I can.

Somehow, he manages to hear it, and Chase peeks his head around the door. "Are you okay?" he asks, seeing me curled up on the floor.

I nod, wiping my face. When did I start crying?

He pulls me up off the floor. "Do you want to go visit your dad? I can take you."

I hesitate, but only for a moment. "Yes, please."

We head out to Chase's car. He awkwardly tries to make conversation. Talking about the weather and random gossip about band kids I haven't met yet, tourist attractions and random minor landmarks we pass on the way to the hospital. I just stare out the window, occasionally nodding or acknowledging that he's talking.

"Look," he says as we pulls into the parking lot. "I know that this is rough for you, but it would be great to have an actual conversation. I feel like I'm talking to myself."

"I'm sorry," I say, turning to him for the first time in the whole car ride as he pulls into a spot. "I want to talk to you, and I want to know you. There's just so much stuff that is getting in the way."

Chase nods and opens his car door. He runs around to my side and opens the door for me. We walk toward the hospital silently. Suddenly, my phone rings. Already knowing who it is, I answer it and press it to my ear. "Ryan, what do you want?"

"Hey, baby. What's crackalackin?"

"I'm at the hospital visiting my dad."

"Oh, well, best of luck with that!" He quickly gets off the phone.

I sigh and shove my phone back into my pocket.

"And how is Loverboy today?" Chase laughs.

"Oh, the usual. He's being a pain in the ass."

He turns to me very seriously, "Then why do you stay with him?"

I stop walking and glare at him. "Chase. I love him."

He raises his eyebrows and keeps walking. He spins to look at me and keeps walking backwards as he says, "Do you really love him or do you just not remember how to be without him?"

"I. Love. Him." I say slowly, clearly so as to make myself as clear as possible.

Chase shrugs and spins on his heel, walking four steps ahead of me now. Shaking my head in pure annoyance, I follow him to the elevator. He taps his foot impatiently as he jabs the button, waiting for me so that he can let the doors close. When they finally do, he turns to me again. "I'm sorry if I crossed any lines by saying that. I just have experienced relationships that go on for the wrong reasons, and I know that all they do is hurt everyone involved."

I feel like I've been punched in the chest. My breath catches in my throat. What does this random guy know about my relationship? He barely even knows me, and he thinks he has the authority to give me life advice? I let out a heavy breath and sneak a sideways glance at him. He rocks back on his heels, hands pushed deep into his vest pockets. For the first time, I wonder why he's wearing a vest in this summer heat. I must've wondered it out loud, for he replies, "I like it. That's why." The doors open. He pops his collar with a snapping motion and strolls out of the elevator. Silently fuming, I follow.