I'm sorry there has been yet another long delay. It's been a combination of a multitude of real life issues, but believe me, I'd much rather be writing/editing than dealing with my health and work stuff. It has been a very draining couple of months.

"How's your food? I told you it's pretty good even though the place has been around since the stone age. What do you think? Their egg sandwich beats a McMuffin any day, right?" When Angela didn't respond he looked up and saw that she was staring at him. "What?" Instead of answering, she burst out laughing. "Seriously? Again?" Eric pouted and pushed his sandwich wrapper aside. "It's not that funny!"

"You were attacked by a wild turkey."

"Correction, I saved you from being attacked by a wild turkey. I sacrificed myself."

"My hero," she attempted to say with a straight face before failing miserably and dissolving into giggles.

"I could have lost an eye!"

They had been heading back to the car after picking up breakfast. She was getting into the passenger seat when she heard the strange, almost gurgling sounds. Before she realized what was happening Eric shoved her into the car and slammed the door, nearly closing it on her foot. He then proceeded to yell and, when the bird seemed undeterred by verbal threats, he held out his arms to make himself look even bigger to their feathered not quite friend. That's when things went south. "It was so unnecessary."

"Yeah, I agree. The bird didn't have to be an asshole about it. I didn't know I was parked in his spot."

"No, I mean, why didn't you just get into the car?"

"Again, protecting you."

"But you could have jumped into the backseat if there wasn't time to get to the driver's side. The bird would've gotten bored and left eventually. You wouldn't have been bit or-or is it pecked?"

"I was keeping my promise."

"What promise?"

"The one where I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I meant it. Sure, the turkey was a plot twist I didn't see coming, but I'll take it over a bear." He touched his eye and winced. "When you're done laughing at me can you get the ice pack from the freezer?"

Angela's expression softened. Were his "heroic" actions necessary? Debatable. Was his heart in the right place? Undeniably, yes. Always. "Sure."

"Thanks."

She held the ice pack up against his injury. "Does it hurt?"

"Mainly my ego. I got beat up by Thanksgiving dinner."

"You didn't look that ridiculous."

"Like I'm going to trust the opinion of the person who was just laughing so hard they could barely breathe."

"Well, you see, I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed when you were only trying to help."

"It's okay." Eric placed a lingering kiss on the inside of her wrist before he took the ice pack from her. "I'm sure if it was anyone but me- or you or Mr. Feeny- I'd be laughing my ass off, too."

"Your motivation was sweet."

"So, it's the thought that counts? That's the same excuse people give for shitty birthday gifts."

"I literally don't know what to say to that."

He tried- and failed- to provide a witty follow-up. "I got nothing."

"We could continue with the rest of our plans for the day."

"What plans? It's supposed to be our do-nothing day."

"No, it's our don't leave the room after getting food day."

"Okay?"

"Okay? Well, we've gone out and gotten the food."

Eric slowly put the ice pack on the table, never taking his eyes off Angela. "Yeah?"

"So, hero's choice: bed or hot tub first? And no, you cannot combine the two. Hot tub sex is not happening."

"Number one: do you have a spy camera in my mind or something? And number two: why not, because hello! Tell me it doesn't sound like the most fun in the world."

"Do you not read any of the articles in those Playboys or Maxims or any other magazine with a pretty girl that you have stashed away?"

"They have articles in those?"

"Yeah," she said sarcastically, "they're like pictures but with letters and words."

"Huh, you don't say. Now, why are you crushing dreams?" He held up his hand. "On second thought, is this going to be like the time you explained why girls need to pee right after sex to prevent a UTI or some sciencey answer that would kill the mood?"

She remembered that conversation. It was not long after they started having sex and Eric was afraid he was doing something wrong or hurting her. While he was relieved it wasn't him he was a little weirded out because, in his exact words, 'and once again science kills the mood.' She never asked how science killed the mood for him previously. "Probably. It's a bad idea on so many levels. You are on the right track though with mentioning a UTI. That's just the beginning. I didn't even bring up the possibility of the condom slipping off."

"AHH!" He covered his ears. "How about you don't tell me and I'll just agree with your reasons anyway?"

Angela migrated over to his side of the counter and wrapped her arms around him. "You're pretty brilliant, you know?"

"Thanks. It's the head trauma."

/

/

"Honey, I thought you'd be home for a few more weeks. Now you're goin' back to college in a week and a half? Did I hear right?"

Rachel spoke as she read over the paperwork at the kitchen table. "Mom, do you remember how I told you I applied to be a Resident Advisor?"

"Vaguely."

"I didn't think I'd be accepted because my application was near the deadline and I didn't do it junior year, but I just got the phone call saying I was approved."

"That's a big responsibility, sweetheart," Mary Helen Maguire said as she brushed her daughter's bangs out of her eyes. "It's noble, but are you sure it's something you want in your senior year when you should be focused on graduating?"

"I'm sure. It's a great opportunity. I'll be making some money and my living arrangements will be paid for- I'm sure daddy'll be thrilled about that."

"You're not going back to the apartment with Jack and Eric?"

She went to the fridge and retrieved a container of leftovers from last night's dinner: chicken and dumplings. Her favorite. There really was nothing like her mom's cooking. Not even Mrs. Matthews' food could compare. "I thought you'd be happy. You guys were never happy about…what did you call my living situation again?"

"A reverse Three's Company that probably ain't as funny."

"I don't know about that. Eric's big personality would fit right in on a sitcom."

"I'm sorry. I reckon I'm just confused. You were happy. What changed?"

"Jack and I broke up."

"You said it yourself: you two weren't in love. It was one of those college things that didn't work out."

"That doesn't mean I want to live with him still."

"I must say this resident advisor position is the first time this summer you've expressed any kind of enthusiasm about returning to school."

"Really?"

"Don't get me wrong, I knew you weren't dreading it, but you haven't been excited, have you?"

She put her food in the microwave and busied herself with the buttons. "It was hard to make friends in college for the first couple of years. All I had was Beau."

"I still can't believe you let him talk you out of an Ivy League education."

"I know! I was an idiot over a guy. I thought he wanted to keep me close because he loved me, not because he wanted to control every decision I made. He kept me pretty isolated those first couple years."

"I'm just glad you finally saw the light."

"I still feel so stupid for not seeing who he was until…."

"At least you got out." Mary Helen reached out and covered her daughter's hand. "You're one of the lucky ones."

Rachel nodded. "I was prepared for him to put up a fight and try to get me back…but nothing. He vanished. I rarely saw him on campus. Then he got expelled for being high and having drugs on him during a meeting with the dean. I heard he came back home, but I haven't seen him here. Then again, I haven't asked and his mom avoided me when I saw her in Walmart."

"Beau pops up now and then. But he's a drifter. Drugs, alcohol, fights…he's a mess. Sheriffs know him real well. His mama blames you which I told her is flat-out stupid. She said you were a stabilizing force in his life and without you, he's like one of those spinning tops." She lifts her daughter's chin when her head started to fall. "Nuh-uh. You didn't let Beau dull your shine when you were together. Don't let misplaced guilt over his mistakes dull it now. You hold your head high."

"Thanks, mom."

"Always. How about you tell me why you're not as excited about returning to school?"

"I don't want to lose my friends. What if I go back and try to hang around with Jack and Eric and everyone and it's too awkward? I'm the one that's gonna get booted from the group."

"Why?"

"Eric and Jack are roommates and best friends. Jack and Shawn are brothers. So are Eric and Cory. Cory and Shawn are best friends. They're not going anywhere. Angela's dating Eric, and Topanga is-"

"What in hell's bells is a Topanga?"

"Her parents are- or were- hippies."

"Dear Lord, that poor girl. Does she at least have a normal middle name to fall back on?"

"I have no idea what her middle name is. The point is everyone has a place. They have built-in connections with each other that I don't have. I'm just some friend they've known for about a year."

"A good friend can be one of the most valuable things in this world."

"I'm just afraid of going back and finding out I never really fit in and belonged. What if I was always the crush or Jack's girlfriend all along?"

"Isn't it better to find out now so you can meet people worthy of your time?"

"I like them, you know? They remind me of my friends here. Of Molly Sue, Crystal, John David, Beth, Travis…" She trailed off, memories of her core friend group from kindergarten through high school graduation flashing through her head. "We're all spread out now. I miss being part of a tight group and belonging somewhere."

"I'm not denying things might be weird with Jack, but I'm sure some of them consider you a real friend."

"Eric, yes. Eric's one of those people who, once you're his friend…" Rachel smiled. "He's the only one who has made any effort to call or email this whole summer. Sure, after the small talk he mostly complains about summer school or gushes about Angela, but he's reached out."

"Have you reached out to anyone? Eric included?"

"I just told you I talk to Eric at least once a week. Not this week because he and Angela are on vacation in the mountains, but-"

"Yes, but you've only talked to him because he's reached out. Not you. Him."

"Oh."

"So?"

"No, I haven't called anyone."

"How can you expect to maintain friendships if you don't put in equal effort?"

"I'm afraid," she admitted. "It would suck to be shut out of this group I was kind of a part of but still have to be around them until I graduate. Making friends is so much harder than it was when I was a kid. I wasn't prepared for that."

"It doesn't get any easier the older you get. But it won't get solved by hiding away. Maybe the R.A. position will be good for you. You'll meet more people and won't have roommates that blur the lines between romantic interests and friends."

"I hope so."

"I know what'll help."

"What?"

"Memaw's blackberry cobbler."

"I thought Chris finished it off when he visited last night," Rachel said, talking about her big brother. She watched her mom go to the fridge, almost sneaking as if someone would catch her. "Memaw still sends extra even though me and Chris are out of the house?"

"Old habits die hard." Mary Helen placed the cobbler on the table. "Ice cream?"

"Is there any other way?"

"That's my girl." She got two spoons from the drawer before once again sitting at the table. "And I'll break it to your daddy that your fixin' to leave before Chili Fest."

Her face fell. "Oh, no, I forgot about Chili Fest. Dad looks forward to that every year. It's the only way you're able to drag him to any of the summer festivals. Do you think he'll forgive me?"

"He might ask you to sign a blood oath promising to move back to Waxahachie after you graduate."

"Dad or you?"

"Well…"

"We'll see. You know I've always wanted to travel, see the world a little before I pick a spot to put down roots."

The elder Maguire nodded. One of her regrets was not traveling and having more independence before getting married and having her kids. The last thing she wanted was for either of her children to have those same regrets. "Come home for visits at least five times a year."

"Considering we have a year before I even graduate, get a job, or have to think about this seriously, sure, mom, whatever you say."

"Oh, hush." She kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Humor me, don't make fun."

"Sorry."

/

/

"Would you be mad if I said I think this is my favorite part of the trip so far?"

Eric chuckled and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the side of the tub. "Are you kidding me? I'm trying to figure out how I could fit one of these things on the fire escape back home."

"That would end badly."

"Fine then. I'll put it in my room."

"And crush your downstairs neighbors?"

"Looks like it's going on your baby balcony then. And before you say anything else, remember we're on vacation and vacation means logic goes bye-bye."

"Who am I to argue with that?"

"No one." He opened his eyes when she sighed. "That was not a happy sound."

"It's nothing."

"Right, you sound totally convincing."

Angela migrated over to his side of the tub and rested her head on his shoulder. "We only have eight days left."

"You mean we still have eight days left. If my math is right, which is never a sure bet, that's just over half the trip." He slung an arm around her shoulders and once again closed his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, there's never going to be enough time just you and me, but you're looking at it the wrong way."

She envied his innate ability to see the glass as half full and wished she walked through life with that train of thought. She didn't know if she would consider herself a pessimist who saw the glass as half empty, however. Most of the time she'd just say there was a glass. Was it empty or full? Who knew? It just was. What did that make her? A realist with pessimistic tendencies? She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Eric's fingers trailing along her neck. "Sorry."

"You are so tense."

Angela leaned into his touch. "I'm fine. Just a little lost in my own head."

Eric used the water to his advantage and easily moved her from her spot beside him to his lap. "Quarter for your thoughts?"

"A quarter?"

"Don't want to shortchange you." He kissed the back of her neck and resumed working on her trapezius muscles. "What's going on?"

"I'm just having a hard time shutting off my brain and thinking about all the stuff that needs to be done when we get home. The move-in time for my apartment is probably thirty seconds after we get back. Then I need to figure out what's going on with Topanga, talk to her, and make sure she isn't upset that I-" She winced when his thumb hit a particularly sore spot. "Ouch."

"I think that's your body's way of reminding you to relax and enjoy the rest of our vacation."

"But-"

"It's like the Metallica song you really liked when we listened to the CD on the drive up."

"The Struggle Within?" She wasn't ready to analyze why she identified with that song so much.

"No."

"Wherever I May Roam?" That was another one that hit a little too close.

"Nothing Else Matters," he exclaimed, slightly exasperated. "How could you forget? You said it was romantic. You might be the first person to ever call a Metallica song romantic."

"Relax, I'm just screwing around."

"Well, that is not the fun way to screw."

Angela chuckled and splashed some water back at him. "You have such a one-track mind." She sighed and barely resisted the urge to completely collapse into him as he continued to massage his way down her back. "Although if you keep doing what you're doing I won't be far behind you on that track."

"That's kinda the idea."

For a few minutes, she was able to block out everything, focusing only on Eric's hands as they glided across her skin, working the tension from her body. And then she remembered something. "Hey, wait a second," she said as she twisted around in his lap.

"What-" He was surprised by her sudden movements that left them face to face with her legs around his waist. Not that he was complaining. "You have to warn me before you move like that."

"This is wrong."

"It feels right to me." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. "Very right."

"Yeah, but this was supposed to be about you, my hero saving me from the wild…" She trailed when she realized his full attention was not on her. Well, it was, but not really. "Hey," she said, lightly tugging on his hair. "My eyes are up here."

"Huh?"

Angela shook her head and laughed. "I don't get it. Why is a bikini so alluring? You've seen me naked and in my underwear. But you combine boobs and a bikini, and you become a cartoon character with your tongue hanging out."

"Angela, when it comes to you, I'm always that cartoon character with his tongue hanging out…and his heart beating a million miles a minute."

She scrunched up her face. "Thank you? I think."

"I meant it as a compliment. You're just that gorgeous."

"Still, this is supposed to be about you."

"I'm pretty happy with how things are going. Surrounded by nature, got a kickass room, you in my arms… what's not to be happy about?"

"Okay," she relented as she ran her hands through his hair, brushing it out of his face, "you have a point. Minus the whole turkey attack, today has been pretty-"

"Ow," he hissed.

"Sorry, you've got some knots. Did the turkey pull your hair?"

"Only when I turned my head to protect my eye." He sighed. "I've been thinking about getting my hair cut anyway. This just gives me a reason."

"Really? I thought you loved your hair long."

"Yeah, but it's so hot. And it gets in my face and how many times on hikes did I have to shoo a mosquito or some other giant flying thing away? Why? Do you not want me to cut it?"

"It's your call. The same way you don't get a say in my hair, I don't get a say in what you do with yours."

"So no strong feelings? Because you do play with my hair a lot when we're making out. Not going to lie, I don't hate it."

"I can still play with your hair even if it's short." Angela stood and carefully got out of the tub. "Let's go in and I'll comb the knots out for you before they get worse."

"Damn mood-killing turkey."

/

/

"No!"

"What," Angela muttered, half-awake. She'd mostly grown accustomed to Eric's sleep talk, but combined with his tossing and turning, she was finding it difficult to get much rest herself. When it seemed he'd settled again, she started to doze off.

"That's mine!"

This time, when he tossed and turned, he took the blanket with him. She sat up and squinted in an attempt to read the clock: 3:22. "Eric," she said, her voice soft. "Eric?" He mumbled something she couldn't quite understand. "Eric, wake up." She gently shook his shoulder. "Wake up. You're dreaming."

"Get your own cubby, Junior!" Eric shot up and looked around the room, momentarily confused about his whereabouts. Why did he have the blankets in a headlock? He noticed that Angela was awake. He could just barely make out her concerned expression in the moonlight. "Was I talking in my sleep again?"

"Kind of."

"Sorry. If I do it again just kick me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what? I've talked in my sleep since I was a kid. You knew that. I'm sorry I woke you up." He tossed the blanket over her legs. "I'm going to sit on the deck for a while. I'm not ready to go back to sleep."

Angela leaned over and grabbed onto his wrist, stopping him from getting very far. "Who's Junior?"

"What?"

"You yelled at someone named Junior about…about a cubby?"

"It was just a dream. Dreams are dumb and don't make sense. Remember the time I talked in my sleep about surfing in a volcano? Or the dream I had where I bought you earrings made out of the rings of Saturn? Dumb bullshit."

"Yeah, but it was dumb bullshit you were able to fall right back to sleep after." When he shrugged his hand free from her grasp and got up, she expected him to go onto the deck and ignore her questions. Instead, without bothering to turn on a light, he went over to where they'd dropped their backpacks and crouched down. Moments later he returned, a familiar wrinkled envelope clenched in his hand. "Your grades," she concluded. "Your dream had to do with your grades?"

Eric shook his head and sat at the edge of the bed, facing away from her. "I failed."

"You read them," she asked, her heart sinking.

"No, in the dream, I failed. I kept trying and trying. Eventually instead of repeating the same classes, I started going backward. I couldn't pass anything and kept falling farther and farther behind until I'm the oldest kindergartner in history. And let me tell you, it's weird to be in kindergarten with your own grandchild."

"Grandchild? Junior?"

"The little brat kept trying to steal my cubby. It was just like real kindergarten all over again only with Feeny as the teacher. I swear the only bright spot was the kickass lunch you made me: PB&J with the crust cut off, an orange already peeled, and two Fruit Roll-Ups. All the other kids were so jealous. It was great."

Her eyes widened. "I made you… so does that mean-"

"It's…if I fail again then what?"

"Then…then you plot a new course. Come up with a new game plan."

"That would be like my three hundredth new game plan. Professional coaches do less planning."

"You're not in this alone, you know? We'd figure it out." Angela kicked off the blanket and moved over to him and hugged him from behind. "It would take a hell of a lot more than a failing grade or an extra semester in college to change the way I feel about you. You're one of the kindest, sweetest, most loving people I've ever met. The way you see the world is so colorful and unique. I've never met anyone like you."

"Really?"

"Really, so believe me when I tell you it's time to stop torturing yourself and open the damn envelope."

Eric ran his fingers over the now faded lettering of the college's name. "It can't be any worse than my imagination is making it, right?"

"You do have an active imagination."

He nodded and took a deep breath. "Your right. I need to just rip off the Band-Aid."

"Right, that's what I- wait a second." She turned on the lamp before jumping out of bed.

"Hey, where are you going? You finally talked me into this and then you run off?"

Angela quickly retrieved what she was looking for from her bag and hurried back over to him. "Sorry, but I have something I want to give you first." She had planned to give him the present after he got his grades, but it seemed more important to do it now.

"It's not my birthday."

"Since when does it need to be a birthday for us to give a gift?" She hooked the handles of the small gift bag around his hand. "Open it."

"Now," he asked, incredulous. "It can't wait a few minutes?"

"Please?"

Eric sighed. "No fair using that pout against me." He dug into the bag and pulled out a rubber duck that looked oddly familiar. "You sure I'm worthy of the superhero duck?'

"Very sure." Angela took his hand and held it between hers. "We've had some ups and downs, but you've been there for me through some pretty heavy stuff. It didn't matter if it was a shoulder to cry on, someone to hug, crack a joke, or even lose my temper on- which I am sorry about…you've hung in there with me, kinda like having my own personal superhero."

"Let's not pretend I'm in the running for Batman or Spiderman. I screwed up, too."

"Never said you were perfect. You did, after all, lose the battle with your arch nemesis: the turkey," she teased.

"Nice."

"But you saved me in the process and besides, aren't the best superheroes the flawed ones?"

"Usually."

"The point is neither one of us is looking for the exit ramp just because things get hard sometimes. This is just my small way of showing how much I appreciate you for sticking by me with all my family crap and how proud I am of you for how hard you've worked."

"Even if I fail?"

"I'm proud of you." She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "No matter what."

"Are you proud enough to do me one favor?"

"What?"

"Open it for me," he said, practically shoving the envelope into her hands.

"Me? These are your results."

"Please? I can't do it."

"Okay…if you're sure."

"I am." Eric squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself. It seemed to take forever for her to take out the letter. "Well? Who wins: me or the school?"

"Wait, you think the school wins if you fail? How does that make sense?"

"Because they get to cheat me out of more tuition money. Can we focus on the big picture, please? What's the verdict?"

"Wow."

"Good 'wow' or bad 'wow'?"

"Wow, I'd better get my ass in gear to come up with the perfect graduation present for you."

"That's okay. You know I wouldn't expect you to get me anything too…" Eric trailed off, realizing the implication of her words. "You mean…"

"You win!" Angela held up the paper with a smile. "Eric Matthews: college senior!"

"I passed?"

"You passed!" She threw her arms around him. "I knew you could do it."

"I had a great tutor." He hugged her tight in return, burying his face in her neck. "Thank you."

"I didn't do much." She raised his head from her shoulder and looked him in the eye. "You okay?"

"Yeah…just…" He shook his head, surprised by how emotional he felt. "A little bit in shock, I guess. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and it won't be real."

Angela pulled him close for a kiss. "That feel real enough for you," she asked when they finally separated.

"Uh-I..uh…what was the question?"

"Better than a pinch, right?"

"Can I see my grades?"

She handed over the paper, not even bothering to tease him about not wanting to keep making out. "See? It's real." The frown on his face surprised her. "What's wrong?"

"I got an A in Communications, a B+ in English, but Algebra…Algebra: C."

"C+," she corrected.

"Still, I studied until I couldn't see straight, and I couldn't do better than a C+?" He sighed. "What a moron."

"No. You're not ruining this. And you're not a moron. You passed. And you never have to take another algebra class ever again."

"No more algebra?" Eric perked up a little. "I forgot about that part. There is a silver lining to that C+."

"There you go."

"You know your support- pass or fail- has been the biggest silver lining in this whole thing," he said as he took her hand and led her back over to the bed, pulling her into his lap. "Thanks for believing in me even when I started to give up on myself again."

"You make it sound like a chore. I only wish you could see yourself the way I do."

"I do. And come on, Angela, we both know you have a smokin' hot boyfriend."

She laughed with him. "Yes, and being modest is one of his finest attributes."

"Hmm, modest…modest…nope, don't know the meaning of that word."

"No kidding."

"I'm sure I don't say it enough," he said, growing more serious as he continued, "but just having you in my life is a pretty big silver lining…the biggest." Angela made a face, which wasn't the reaction he was going for at all. "What's wrong?"

"Just silver? Weren't you the guy who offered me a quarter for my thoughts this morning in the hot tub because he didn't want to shortchange me with pennies?"

"Yeah…," he answered slowly, not sure where she was going with this. Although memories of the hot tub were nice ones, ones he didn't mind reliving.

"This morning quarters but tonight I have to settle for silver?" She winked to let him know she was joking. "You can't do better than that? Can't I be the platinum lining in your life?"

"No."

She leaned back and glared at him. "No?"

"Rhodium…you're a rhodium."

"What's that?"

"We learned about it in geology. It's one of the rarest, most precious metals on earth. Also, the most valuable."

"Rhodium, huh?"

"Platinum's not close to being a good enough comparison. You're total rhodium."