Pausing in their trek up the stairs, a scream left Everly's lips, startling Kit when a soccer ball went whizzing past them and crashed into the lamp on the table near the couch.

"Uh-oh…" Kit said, watching fury color her mother's youthful face.

"BLAKE!" Everly screeched, fists clenched at her side.

"Did you see that-" Blake coughed into his fist, cutting off his joyous laughter. He steadied Indigo with his free hand, keeping her from barreling straight into his legs.

Having recovered, he held up his hands in surrender, "Darling, I can explain…"

Indigo pointed at her father, "He did it."

Kit snickered, but quickly covered it up with a cough, like her father, when Everly sent a dark stare her way.

"If it makes you feel better," Blake interjected quickly, "I had the video camera rolling and this is going to make a great home video."

"And the lamp's not even broken," Indigo added. She picked it up and placed it back on the table, "See? Just the light bulb cracked."

"No soccer in the house, Indigo," Everly said firmly, "Do I make myself clear?"

Indigo bobbed her head up and down obediently, "Yes, ma'am."

Everly moved her glare to her husband, "Blake! What were you thinking? You can't wait until we take her to lessons?"

Blake looked offended, "What? I can't give her a few pointers?"

The fury seemed to dissipate from Everly's face and she sighed, "Honey…" there was nothing but pity in her eyes and she shook her head, "You-you—no, you can't play soccer."

"He really can't…" Indigo sighed, shaking her head.

"Shhhhh," Blake pressed his hand over Indigo's face, awkwardly patting it, "Daddy's winning."

"You're not," Kit mumbled.

A frown creased Indigo's face and she removed Blake's hand, "I think he hit a squirrel-

"All right, all right!" Blake interrupted loudly, though the girl's laughter, "No soccer in the house and I'll avoid squirrels."

"If you want to help, maybe you can watch soccer on TV," Kit suggested, "Or look something up online."

"Ooh, TV," Indigo pulled on Blake's hand, "I want to watch a soccer game, an all girls one!"

Kit smiled fondly as Indigo dragged a reluctant Blake to the couch and she continued her way upstairs, being the first to enter her parents' bedroom.

"Soccer?" she chuckled lightly, turning her head. She made a face, "Can you believe it?"

"No," Everly smiled, "No one's ever asked to do sports. We're not an athletic family, not at all. But it's what she wants to do…" she trailed off with a shrug.

"If she likes it, then we'll have to learn the rules," Kit said, not at all bothered, "She'll want to play with us."

She flopped down on the large mattress, narrowly missing the scattered envelopes. She scrunched up her nose as she propped herself up on her elbows, gesturing towards it.

"Bills?" she asked worriedly.

Everly was quick to pick up the mess, shuffling them all together and placing them on the dresser.

"Mhm," she hummed, going to join her daughter on the other side of the bed, "We're behind on some."

Kit's heart sunk. They always were.

"I thought moving here would be cheaper?" she asked quietly.

"It is!" Everly insisted, "Trust me, Kit Kat, it's a lot cheaper, but being an artist isn't easy. Especially when you freelance like I do."

A little worried, Kit bit her lip, "But it makes you happy, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Everly agreed with a fond smile, "It does…"

Kit sensed something else in her mother's tone and she pressed her lips together.

"Unfortunately," Everly continued, "The harsh reality of being an adult is: that's not always good enough."

Kit nodded. It had been sometime since she and her mother had had one of these conversations. While they tried to find the positive in every situation, there were times when they simply needed to sit and be serious.

"Well, you know," she started, "Willa asked me to play for her at her auditions," when Everly hummed in acknowledgment, she continued, "Maybe the scouts will put in a good word for me…I'm old enough to get a job, now. I've been looking and then I'll be able to help with rent and stuff."

"Oh, Kit Kat, save your money," Everly told her. She scooted closer, "Save it for your passion. You could buy new art supplies or some sheet music."

"Would you let me help, though?" Kit asked, "If I really wanted to?"

"I'd talk to your father about it, first," Everly decided, "You don't need to worry, honey. Money's tight, but we're not in the danger zone. I promise. I'm going to visit a few more galleries this week and I'm entering some contests. Plus, your dad took that job at your school. The prom photographer."

Kit nodded in reply, glancing back at her mother when she spoke.

"Are you excited to play at Willa's auditions?"

"I think so," Kit said, "Really nervous. I'll have to make sure Nero is tuned and everything."

"I know. You've been needing a new violin for years," Everly said a little guiltily.

Kit bit her lip. Nero was a simple laminate spruce top with laminate maple back and sides—a "starter" violin. He had been purchased used from someone in the church, with scuff marks and scratches galore. At first, he hadn't sounded right, but her grandmother had adjusted it herself and Nero had his fair share of accidents over Kit's younger years. Especially when Indigo started getting into Kit's things.

But new violins were expensive and while she sometimes felt it was hard to improve her intermediate skill level on him, she understood having to work with what you got and she was extremely grateful and perfectly content with Nero. He had character.

"It's fine," Kit promised, "I really don't need a new one. Besides, I've been putting off finding a new teacher, anyway."

Everly nodded slowly, "You've been putting off a lot since we've moved here."

Kit frowned in disagreement, "No, not a lot."

"Enough," Everly said. She sat up, "Talk to me, Kit. You said you were okay with moving here."

"I was—am!" Kit insisted. She dropped her gaze to the fuzzy dark red comforter, "I really am okay with being here. I guess…I really didn't think I would miss New Hampshire that much. The other day, I was telling Emmett about the church and our birthdays and…" tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, "I miss grandma."

Shocked at Kit's sudden reaction, Everly moved to hug her daughter tightly as the teenager burst into tears, kissing the top of her head, "Oh, Kit. I know you do, honey. So do I, so does Blake, Indigo…we all miss her."

"And we just left her there all by herself, and I feel awful!" Kit wailed, covering her face with her hands.

"We still have the house!" Everly reminded frantically, "We still have the house. Her piano's there, some of her things. Do you remember Vanessa?"

Sniffling, Kit lifted her head and frowned, "What?" she said in a tone, implying that her mother was crazy. Her breath hitched as she tried to control her crying, "Yes, of course I do!"

"She still checks up on the house and my mother," Everly swallowed thickly, tears in her own eyes, "You didn't think I was going to leave without making arrangements, did you?"

"I guess not," Kit blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes, though more tears welled up, "Y-you still talk to Vanessa?"

"Yes, at least twice a week," Everly smiled sadly, "And Shelly," she tickled Kit's side, "She misses you, you know."

Kit exhaled. Vanessa was the very intense church choir director and Shelly was Vanessa's daughter, having been the youngest in the group until Kit came along.

She wasn't sure if they had actually been friends, but they had grown up in the church together and played a few times. Shelly had been invited for a play date for Kit's birthday and they had gotten their nails done, then went out for ice cream. They had drifted apart as they aged, as they attended different schools, more so when Kit's grandmother died and the Algrens stopped attending church.

"I think about her sometimes, and I miss her a little bit," Kit finally responded, "But it's been so long since we've talked and Vanessa always talked about you. Grandma said she was a busybody."

With a light laugh Everly nodded firmly,"Yes, she was!" she laughed again, wiping her tears, "And she and your grandma always clashed. They both had loud personalities…but," she held up a finger when Kit opened her mouth to protest, "Underneath all of that, they were the best of friends even with the huge age gap."

Kit let that information digest and she felt a little envious. She hadn't known that Vanessa and her grandmother had spent so much time together. It kind of bothered her.

"Well, are we going to go back?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice steady, "This summer or something? To Hampton?"

Everly's gaze flicked over to the brunette and she patted Kit's arm again, "That's four plane tickets, round trip…" she shook her head, clearly upset, "Maybe next year. Your grandma will understand."

Kit couldn't even look at her mother and she stood up, "Okay."

Everly sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "Kit, don't be mad. We'll still do something special for her. We always do."

"I'm not," Kit said. She chewed on her lip, "I promise, I'm not mad and I know she'll understand."

"Then why are you leaving?" Everly whined, patting the spot Kit abandoned, "Come sit with me."

"I have stuff to work on," Kit said flatly, "I told you, I'm playing for Willa's auditions and it needs to be perfect. I might meld two pieces together—do a mashup or something," she shrugged, "We're still working out the details."

"Okay," Everly said with a sad smile, "I'll be here then."

"I'll come back," Kit promised.

She couldn't get out of her parents' bedroom fast enough and she walked quickly to her room, shutting the door and clicking the lock into place. Tears immediately spilled down her cheeks as her face crumpled and she gasped in short pants, trying to remain quiet to avoid being overheard.

It felt like her heart was breaking and she briefly recalled the five stages of grief and loss, something she had heard about and read about constantly when her grandmother had died. They had never made any sense to her and they still failed to—she didn't think she'd ever stop grieving the loss of her grandmother.

Her hand came up to rub her locket and she could feel the engravings of the rose flower against her hand, the texture a little rough from rust that had started to appear at the very edges.

After staying pressed against her door and managing to calm herself, she furiously wiped her tears and went forward, closing the curtains on her window and locking it. She wanted to be alone.

Still sniffling, she gently picked up her violin case from the corner of her room and a large bundle of sheet music, placing them both on the bed and taking a seat. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat, reaching for the water bottle on her bedside table.

She took a long drink from it, then placed it back where it belonged, unlatching the metal catches on her violin case, flipping it open.

"Okay," she said to herself, gazing at the string instrument, "It's time to focus."

She took one of her fingers and rubbed at one of the visible scratches on the violin as if it would disappear. Despite the appearance, the scratch was smooth and shiny, having been buffed out.

Turning her attention to the sheet music, she began to shuffle through the books and papers and music she had written out. She really did need to find a new teacher and recently had begun to work on more advanced pieces. Specifically, Praeludium and Allegro. She had been having a lot of trouble with the double stops, fast notes and different bow strokes.

Heaving out a loud sigh, she raked a hand through her hair, wincing when her fingers got caught on a tangle. She pulled it apart and lowered it back down to her lip, eyeing her violin for a moment.

She was about to take her bow out if its case, but stopped when there was a small knock on her door that was the entrance to her and Indigo's shared bathroom.

"Come in, sweetheart," she called.

Indigo poked her head through the door, then walked into the room, holding a few pieces of clothing.

"What's up?" Kit asked, she closed her violin case and pushed her sheet music aside. She patted the spot next to her, "Come sit."

Indigo hopped up on the bed, dropping the clothing in Kit's lap. She opened her mouth to say something, then got a good look at Kit's face, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Kit insisted, "I'm fine, just working on stuff. What up?" she asked again.

Indigo eyed her sister, then nodded, "Okay, well, you know how you always recycle your clothes?"

"Upcycle," Kit corrected, "Yes, what about it?"

"Well, can you do it with mine, please?" Indigo asked, "I wanted to wear these," she held out the first item of clothing, which was a pair of cotton candy pink jeans with a lace trim over the pockets.

The knees were frayed as well as the bottoms. There were stains all over them and Kit frowned deeply at the condition, placing them down to look at the other clothing.

There was a dress with a dark denim bodice with a lace pink floral pocket and a lace coral pink skirt with a floral pattern.

"There's buttons missing," Indigo pointed to the bodice, "Two of them and there's a hole somewhere."

"You get new clothes all the time," Kit reminded her, "You and mommy went shopping a couple weeks ago. Why are these so dirty?"

"I played in the sandbox at recess," Indigo explained, gesturing to the jeans. She picked up a long-sleeved white shirt plastered with daisies, "And I got this dirty with spaghetti sauce. Mommy told me to throw it away, but I only got to wear it once."

"Okay…" Kit drawled out. Her eyes bugged out at the next item of clothing, "Indi, this is brand new! There's still a tag on it."

It was a button-up sesame colored short-sleeved safari dress with a matching sash belt tied into a bow and a rounded collar.

"Why haven't you ever worn this?" Kit demanded. The dress was smooth and soft in her hands, "It's so pretty!"

"It's boring," Indigo whined, "But mommy says I need a nice dress. Can't you make it better with the old clothes? You do them with yours."

Kit tilted her head to the side, observing the garment. She understood Indigo's request, but all of Kit's clothes were old. They had been her mom's or her grandmother's. Even as a child she had worn their clothes. She had no choice but to fix them or risk walking around with holes that would have showed off her underwear or something.

"Well, mommy's right," she started, "You do need a nice dress and I don't think I can make it look nice with the old clothes," she glanced over when Indigo groaned, placing a hand on her shoulder, "But…I'll try my best to fix your old clothes and maybe I can add a patch or something to the dress. It's brand new, Indi. I'm not going to cut it up and sew a bunch of stuff into it."

Indigo's shoulders slumped as she sulked, "…Okay," she said. She leaned against Kit, "Thank you."

Kit bent her head to kiss the top of Indigo's, "You're welcome. Perk up, buttercup. You start soccer next week. Aren't you excited?"

There was no Youth Soccer Club in Forks, the closest one being in Port Angeles. It wasn't too far, but it would clash with Everly and Blake's work schedule, so that was still being worked out, but Indigo was registered for the proper age-division. From Kit's understanding, it was co-ed, but they would be split into teams based on their gender.

"I'm so excited!" Indigo raved, bouncing on the bed, "Melody's going to join and you'll come too, won't you? Right?"

"Of course," Kit agreed immediately, "I'll be there if you want me there."

"Okay," Indigo was easily satisfied by that, then glanced over at Kit's violin case, "Oh, was I bothering you?"

"You never bother me!" Kit replied, astonished that Indigo would ever say something like that, "I was about to practice for Willa's audition. We haven't even gone over what song she's going to do, yet."

"Oh," Indigo replied, not seeming too interested, "Okay. Well, I'm going to go finish my book and then call Melody."

Disappointment danced in Kit's eyes as her sister hopped down from her bed and Indigo didn't even look back as she exited the way she came.

'She's growing up so fast,' Kit thought, sad at the fact.

She would admit that there was a large part of her that missed the "old days" when her parents had to work all the time and it was just her spending time with her sister. While she had now gotten very used to it, there was always a small twinge in her heart when Indigo referred to Everly as her mother and not Kit.

"Uggggh!" Kit groaned, falling onto her back.

She sat like that for awhile, lost in her thoughts and mulling over everything that had happened since coming to Forks. Her thoughts lingered a bit on Victoria. She was terrified of the catlike vampire coming back and shuddered at the memory of Victoria lunging for her.

Digging the heels of her hands into her eyes, Kit let out a loud, heavy sigh and straightened up, her hands falling into her lap with a light smack.

As though it were made out of glass, she took the bow gently out of its case and used the screw at the end to tighten and loosen the hairs until she was satisfied.

She took the dark orange rosin out of its compartment and ran it up and down the bow, repeatedly checking to make sure it stuck to the soft bow hairs.

Content with the state of her bow, Kit got up to fetch her rickety music stand, righting the sheet music and reaching behind her to pick up her instrument.

"Okay, Kit," she murmured to herself, "It's seriously time to focus."

Upon getting out of her car at school, Kit was greeted by a pencil hitting the back of her head.

Startled, she turned and saw Ben, Angela, Mike, Tyler, Eric, Austin and a few other upper classmen. lounging around Tyler's car.

"Yo, Kit!" Tyler called, raising a hand, "Come over here."

Anxiety welled up inside of her and she rubbed her suddenly clammy hands on her skirt. It was the pink one that she had found in the attic, along with a short-sleeved mint turtleneck that exposed the few freckles dotting her arms. She wore a mint green headband in her hair and simple hot pink heels she had found in the back of her mother's closet. The straps were beat up, but they could pass.

Comforted by Angela and Ben's presence, she decided to approach the group, greeting them with a small smile.

"Good morning," she said, "How are you?"

Tyler glared at Mike, "In trouble. We need your help with something."

"Me?" Kit asked, surprised, "What do you need my help for?"

"Mike can't draw for shit," Austin said, "But we heard you can."

Kit was briefly appalled by the language, but she nodded, shifting her weight.

Angela spoke shyly, "Prom's coming up in May. We know it's still technically March, but we need to put up flyers or some kind of poster."

"Poster," Ben chipped in, his arm around Angela's waist, "We can do one big one and put it up in the cafeteria."

"See, look here," Mike beckoned her closer and Kit complied, but still kept a bit of distance between them.

"We'd write prom on the top," he made a mark with his pencil on a piece of printer paper, "Then the date here, how much tickets are going to be and then draw some kind of frou-frou prom decorations."

"Oh," Kit said. That was simple enough, "I can do that. Make it all fancy. Is there a theme?"

"No," Eric frowned at her like the idea was absurd, "Just formal, you know?"

No, Kit didn't know. For the year and a half she had been at her old high school, there had always been a theme when not only did they have senior prom, but junior prom. There was always a vote amongst the two classes and the ASB on the theme and where the prom would be held as well as the after party.

"Okay," she responded, "I'll figure something out."

"You only need to do the drawings," Austin clarified, "And we'll handle the rest."

"Great," she responded, "Let me know when you need me, then," she tilted her head to the side, "How did you know I could draw?"

"I told them!"

Kit jumped ten feet in the air, violently startled by the snotty voice that was falsely chipper.

"Hey, Laur," Tyler greeted with a warm smile.

Kit's nails dug into her palms and she felt extremely self-conscious standing there in not only a skirt, but short-sleeves.

"She's great," Jessica said, pointing to Kit, "She's always doodling in Spanish. You know, her dad's a photographer too."

Mike's eyes were wide and he failed to notice Kit's discomfort, "Oh, cool! If we hired him, would he take pictures at prom?"

Words stuck in her throat, Kit nodded.

"Kit's got all the hookups, these days," Ashley chimed snickering.

"Cool, Kit," Eric patted her on the shoulder, "Let us know."

Kit cleared her throat and in a small voice, she said, "Yes, I-I—um, I'll ask him, tonight," she took a step back, "I should go. Emme-

"Have you lost weight?" Lauren blurted, looking Kit up and down with her fishy eyes.

Kit's eyes widened drastically, embarrassed that Lauren would ask something like that in front of all these people, she promptly shook her head, hair flying.

"N-no," she stuttered, "I'm…the same," she finished awkwardly.

"Well, you look fantastic," Lauren gushed.

Kit blinked and the smallest of creases appeared on her forehead.

"Thanks," was all she managed to say, taking another step back, "Um, see you later."

She sighed heavily and left after that, bringing her thumbnail to her mouth. She wanted to cry. As weird as it sounded, Lauren and her clique being nice to her like that was almost worse than the name-calling.

'It's going to be a long, long day,' she thought, already exhausted. It had been a rough night, kept up with thoughts that consisted of her grandmother.

However, she forced a small smile when she saw Emmett and bounced forward to hug him, a little breathless when he picked her up. She hadn't seen him the past couple nights.

"Hey, babe," he greeted her, setting her back on the ground. He glanced past Kit, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she said. She rubbed the pad of her thumb over Emmett's hand when his grip tightened, "I'm really tired. I've been busy."

Emmett, by now, knew not to push the issue and forced himself to leave it be. Usually, he wasn't someone who worried about things that were out of his control, but this was Kit, his mate. That made things different. Her safety and well-being came first and he was trying his best to be there for her without making things worse. By now, he knew how small towns worked.

Seeing that Kit was staring at him expectantly, he asked, "Yeah? Busy with what?"

"Homework and stuff," Kit replied. She turned her head and waved at Alice as well as Bella, who stood close to Edward, the bronze-haired vampire refusing to let the pale girl out of his sight since returning from Phoenix. Bella didn't seem to mind, but Kit hadn't really seen the other brunette since Spring Break ended.

As her and Emmett began walking, she yawned, "Will you remind me to make a to-do list, later?"

"Yeah," Emmett said, "No problem."

Kit stepped closer to him, chucking when he released her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders and kiss the top of her head, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"I appreciate you, baby," Emmett replied smoothly.

Kit smirked and looked up at him, "I appreciate you too," another thought struck her, "Hey, what do you know about soccer?"

Emmett snorted, "Do you know who you're talking too? It's not my favorite sport, but my family and I have played a couple times. Why?"

"Believe it or not, Indigo's starting soccer next week," Kit told him, "I'm pretty sure she's breaking the Algren stereotype," she laughed, "All I know, is that there are two teams, you kick the ball into the goalpost-

"Different sport, goal net," Emmett corrected.

"And then someone wins," Kit finished, ignoring the correction.

Emmett laughed and the loud, boisterous sound drew stares, but he easily ignored them, only having eyes for Kit.

"Wow, okay," he shook his head, amused, "We'll work on that."

Kit huffed at him and she slowed her pace as they neared the building for her first period. They still had some time left. The bell had yet to ring.

"I think the only time I came close to playing an actual sport outside of school was with you," she told him, teasing, "And even then I got confused."

"Hey, even vampire baseball has rules," Emmett pointed out quietly. He leaned his forehead against hers, "Wait until you see vampire bowling."

"Looking forward to it," Kit said, glancing up when the bell rang. She looked back to Emmett who had pulled away, "I'll see you at lunch?"

"Mhm," Emmett nodded, leaning down to give her a chaste kiss, "See you later."

Kit bit her lip through a smile, "Have a nice day," she turned and headed into the building, biting her lip again when her stomach growled.

She wrapped her arms around herself, adjusting the hold on her school satchel. She hadn't eaten dinner the night before and barely touched her breakfast. Her parents had questioned her on her lack of appetite, but Kit had assured them that she was fine, just stressed.

And that was true. She felt like she had a lot to do and was losing her mind over Willa's auditions. What if she messed up? If she messed up, Willa would mess up and that could possibly blow the latter's chance of getting into summer intensives. It was a lot of pressure for both of them and Kit wasn't sure if there was enough time; only Willa was confident that it was.

Kit shook herself out of her thoughts and took a seat at her desk where there was already a textbook. She pulled out the correct colored notebook and a freshly sharpened pencil.

She stiffened when Katie took her assigned seat—she always did. It was almost routine. Katie would take her seat, then as if Lauren or whoever decided to text Kit, was aware of that fact, Kit's phone would vibrate.

She had a hard time describing the new feeling she got when she read the text messages. They didn't affect her the way they used too, she didn't cry anymore. Lousy? Alone? Numb? Pathetic? Something of the sort.

"Okay, class, settle down," Mr. Jefferson called attention, beginning to pass out worksheets, "Today's going to be a revisit to the World War I Peace Process. You can use your textbooks. Read each question and circle either yes or no, the appropriate key terms, documents, and effects. I'll turn on some music, but no talking. When you're finished, flip your paper over and work on something else. Different classwork is all right."

Kit pulled the worksheet closer to her, replacing her notebook into her satchel to make more room for the textbook. She skimmed over the Table of Contents, then flipped open to the correct page.

It was hard to concentrate and she found that her mind was constantly going a million miles per minute. Maybe if she finished her worksheet on time, she would work on that to-do list.

The worksheet was harder than she thought it would be and with her mind continuously wandering off, it took her a lot longer to finish it, especially when she had to skip over questions and go back to them. There was five minutes of class remaining when she closed her textbook with a soft exhale, her fingers aching with how hard she had gripped her pencil.

When the bell rang, Kit scrunched up her nose in distaste. Besides gym, Algebra 2 was her most difficult class. If it wasn't for Emmett spending his time tutoring her (and sometimes, just telling her the answer), and occasionally doing the work with Willa, she was sure that she would fail.

She waited until most of the students had exited the classroom before she got up from her desk, worksheet in hand to place it on Mr. Jefferson's desk.

"Thank you, Miss Algren," Mr. Jefferson said, straightening out the papers, "Would you mind staying a moment?"

'Oh, gosh…' Kit thought, dread filling her.

"No, Sir," she replied with a polite smile.

Mr. Jefferson got up and went to the door. He started to close it and left it open a crack, something the teachers were all required to do if they were alone with students of the opposite sex.

"It will only take a moment and I'll write you a pass," he assured, going back to his desk, "Miss Algren, are you aware that you are one of my best students?"

One of his best students? Both surprised and very proud of herself, Kit shook her head, "No, Sir."

"You are," Mr. Jefferson cleared his throat, "Not only grade wise, but you've got great enthusiasm. Lately, I've noticed that's been dwelling. Both things."

"Pardon me?" Kit asked, but she had heard him perfectly, "My grade is falling?"

"You're at a 'B', now," Mr. Jefferson said, "Which isn't bad, still passing, but you used to have an 'A', highest in this period. You're grade is lowered from your lack of participation. You hardly raise your hand and you don't speak up in discussions. Some of your other teachers have noticed this same change."

Kit shifted her weight to her right foot. She was in no position to deny what her teacher was saying. She purposely didn't raise her hand or speak up in discussions even when she was 110% sure that she knew the answer.

"I want to make it clear that not participating verbally won't necessarily drop your grade to a failing percentage," Mr. Jefferson continued, "But I myself, and the rest of your teachers, are very aware that you can do better."

"Yes, Sir," Kit mumbled, "My apologies."

"Is there something going on?" he asked, tone causal and eyes calm, "Something your teachers and I should be aware of? Stuff at home or…?" he shook his head and gestured to Kit.

Kit scratched her head. She felt like this conversation was a little personal, but perhaps that was something that came with attending a very small school—teachers paid more attention. Still, even with that thought, Kit couldn't fathom why her teachers would care.

"No, nothing is going on," Kit responded, forcing cheer in her tone as Mr. Jefferson fished for a red pen in a pencil cup, "I just have a lot on my mind, is all. Now that I'm aware, I'll do better."

"Excellent," Mr. Jefferson scribbled on a sticky note, handing it to Kit, "That will be all, Miss Algren. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kit said. Opening the door. There were a few students waiting, "Excuse me," she mumbled apologetically, "Sorry. Excuse me."

Her steps on the way to her next class were hurried. She feared the embarrassment of walking into class late and having everyone stare at her.

She made it to Algebra just as the bell rang and with the teacher giving a disapproving look, Kit handed over the pass, then hurried to her desk, making sure to keep her head down. She could feel Willa's eyes on her, but didn't turn around as the class began. They would have time to talk afterward; and Willa would definitely question Kit's late entrance.

Kit hadn't realized that she had spaced out, until a book landed on her desk, causing her to gasp.

"Willa!" she hissed, placing a hand over her heart, "What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" Willa countered, "We're always partners."

Looking away from Willa, Kit glanced at the whiteboard. There was nothing written. She looked at the teacher, then gave up, turning back to Willa who had pushed the desk beside Kit's, much closer.

"Er…" Kit wheedled, "What exactly are we working on?"

"Word problem packet," Willa explained shortly, "Why did you come in late?"

"I had to talk about my grade with Mr. Jefferson," Kit said, taking out a pencil, "Nothing too riveting."

"Okay," Willa said, dropping it, "Are we still on for the sleepover?"

"Yes!" Kit said, brightening up, "We are. You still need-

"I hope you two ladies are conversing about math," Mr. Varner's shadow appeared over their conjoined desks and he wasn't asking a question.

"I was explaining the directions," Willa answered while Kit's cheeks pinked.

"Mhm," Mr. Varner hummed sarcastically, "Get to work. This is due, tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir," Kit said firmly, while nodding, "It will get done."

"It better," Mr. Varner gave a curt nod, still eyeing them while he walked off to check on another pair of partners.

As soon as his gaze left their desks, Kit and Willa glanced at each other, then burst into quiet giggles.