Title: Ordinary World

Author: Megan

Email: shy_grrl@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. They belong to other people. The song "Sally's Pigeons" belongs to Cyndi Lauper.

Feedback: Yes, please

Archive: http://www.realmoftheshadow.com/megan.htm (My eternal gratitude to Kim for saving my stories from oblivion)

Chapter Summary: Brooke is turning eighteen, high school's almost over. Life is good. Yeah, right. Who wants to read about that?

Author's Notes: Finally decided to finish this story up. I've left it hanging for too long. Not sure how the continuity works. Let me know if something sucks. Apologies for the long wait. The story assumes that Brooke and Sam met as little kids, and that Mike is a monster. And some other things too.

Warning: Implications of awful things going on in the McQueen house. Quite vague implications, but don't read if you don't think you can handle it.

Chapter Five

Part One

'But I won't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world, somehow I have to find.

And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world, I will learn to survive.'

- "Ordinary World" by Duran Duran

~~~~~

I watch from the distance, how they talk together. How comfortable they look together. Josh says something funny, and Sam laughs. Her hand raises up, and she uses it to capture her hair behind her ear.  And she smiles that crooked smile of hers. The one she uses, when she's being mischievous. She isn't supposed to be mischievous with anyone but me. She happens to glance my way, and gets all serious again. She looks down at her pad, and asks another one of her questions.

"Quite the scene", Nicole comes up from behind me. She picks the worst times to bother me, "They look good together."

I won't let her words get to me. She doesn't know anything about anything. Though, they do look good together. Usually people pale in comparison to Sam, but Josh holds his own quite well. And now he's reaching out with his hand, and groping at Sam's face! I open my mouth to scream obscenities at him, but another glance from Sam stops me. She steps away from Josh's touch, and instead cleans, whatever was on her cheek, herself. Josh also looks my way, and bows her head for a second.

"She's just interviewing him", I say, more to myself than to Nicole.  She has the good grace to keep quiet. Nicole is the only one who knows. Everyone else is either blind, or profoundly stupid. There is no other explanation for it. Two years we've been together, and no one else has figured it out. What the Hell is that about?

"Oh!, look! Now he's interviewing her breasts!", Nicole comments, when the second is gone, and Josh's head stays bowed. And he's answering Sam's question. And staring at her chest. The pervert.

"God, I hate you sometimes", I say, and turn to walk away. Towards the dressing rooms.

Nicole doesn't leave me alone. She starts following me a few steps behind, "Don't", she says, "I'm just looking after you. You have to admit, they've been spending lots of time together."

Don't listen to her! DO NOT listen to her! Stupid girl!, "Yeah, cause Sam's doing the article on him", I say, and walk faster.

Nicole keeps up with me, but stays quiet for a change. I wish she'd just leave me alone. She's like this little devil on my shoulder, whispering evil things to my ear. Making evil suggestions. And I don't have the strength to cut her out of my life. I need her to worship me. Just in case. We speed walk up to a door, and through it, inside the dressing room.

"But why on him? Ever wonder about that?", Nicole asks, "She could've picked anyone."

I walk quietly to my locker, and pull it open, before glancing briefly at her, "Because, he's the only one in this sorry school, who's gona do something with his life", I say, "Besides Sam herself, of course", Sam's gona go places. You can tell, just by looking at her. There's this silent determination about her. Sometimes, it's not even that silent.

"So, they have even that in common?", Nicole says.

Shut up already! Why does she have to be so evil? Why can't she be nice? Ever?, "Why do you insist on hurting me on purpose?", I say, and retrieve my towel from the locker, before closing it.

"Truth hurts", she answers, and shrugs.

"Then lie to me", I say blandly, and nod forcefully. She shuts up again. Purses her lips. Starts scheming up a new plan. A better plan.  A plan, that's somehow supposed to discredit Sam in my eyes. She doesn't know, that it won't ever work. The only way I'll ever believe, there's anything going on between Josh and Sam is, if she says it herself.

When Nicole stays quiet for more than ten seconds, I decide I'm not obliged to wait for her. And peel out of my uniform, "I can't wait for tomorrow to come", I say, "After the game, I don't ever wanna see this shitty thing again."

Nicole has walked to her own locker, and her head is buried in the depths of it, "I have to agree there", her voice echoes weirdly, when she talks inside the metal locker, "In four years, the charm has kinda worn off from the whole cheering thing."

I stare at her back for a few more seconds, before removing my underwear, and heading for the showers. I don't think Nicole ever liked cheerleading. It was just something she did to ensure her popularity. But, like anything she puts her mind into, she gave it her best effort. She doesn't give up, doesn't quit. You have to give her credit for that. But at the same time, it's kind of sad. She's spent four years gathering popularity points here, and what's she got to show for it, once we graduate? Nothing. No one cares, if she was the co-captain of the cheerleading team.

I turn on the shower, and let the cool water wash me clean. Sometimes shower is the best thing. It's so relaxing. Soothing even. To feel the water slide down my body. The water being the only thing I feel. I could spend my life in a shower.

Of course Sam interviews Josh. He's the only logical choice. There might be some super scientist in our class too, but you can't know that for sure yet. You know Josh is gona play football in the big leagues. So, naturally Sam would choose him for the article. And she did ask me, if it was okay. And I did say yes. And it feels bad, that they're spending all this time together. God, that Nicole is so devious! She knows exactly, what to say to me! But I'm not that weak. I won't let her words have this much power over me. I won't. I won't freak out over this.

A loud crash from the locker area interrupts my showering session. I turn the water off, quickly cover myself with the towel, and head back. Bickering voices carry over to me. It's Sam and Nicole. Of course. Who else?

I round the corner to the aisle, where my locker is, "Why don't you just leave her alone?", Sam says. She's standing with her back to me. Nicole is some ten feet from her, next to her own locker, which is now closed. She's still wearing the cheer uniform, and facing my way.

Nic looks at me knowingly, and tilts her head slightly, "What do you care?", she asks the brunette back.

"I care", Sam simply says, in an irate voice. She and Nicole are always fighting. Always. It goes back so long, I don't even remember a time, when it wasn't so. Actually, I do. When we didn't know Nicole. But that's not the point. The point is, they are always fighting, "You're a bad influence on her."

Nicole frowns at first, and then laughs shortly, "What are you, her mother?", she says, shaking her head.

"Sam", I say her name, and sit down on the bench. She turns around, and looks a little embarrassed at first. Nicole is anything but embarrassed. She's smugly grinning at me, "What are you doing?", I ask the brunette.

Sam shrugs, "Nothing. I just don't understand, why you put up with that bitch", she says, and walks closer to me. She smiles. And I smile back. I love Sam.

"This bitch was kind enough to keep her company, while her girlfriend was fawning over some jock", a voice behind Sam says.

But it's behind Sam, and of no concern. Only things between me and Sam matter. Our hands meet in the air, and she sits down next to me. Not an inch separating us. She's still smiling, but I notice a hint of evil in it now. Sam slowly turns away from me, towards Nicole. Her voice is sweet as honey, when she talks, "Well, thanks, Nic", she says, and the smile grows, "But the girlfriend is here now, so you can go."

Nicole's smug expression is frozen in place. She refuses to let it go. Her gaze flips between me and Sam a couple of times. I just keep smiling at her, the same way Sam does. Sure, she's my friend. But I don't like it, when she tries to turn me against Sam. I hate it. She shouldn't do that.

Finally, Nic's had enough. She glares at Sam one last time, grabs her bag, and hurries off in a snit. Sam smothers a laughter, and shakes her head slowly, before turning to look at me again, "I hate Nicole", she says.

"Sure", I say quietly, and nod, "It's easy to hate Nic. Much harder to like her."

Sam raises her hand, and brushes my dripping wet hair away from my face, "I don't understand, why you always have to do things the hard way", she says, "You're still wet, by the way."

I lean closer, and kiss her briefly. Or I mean it to be briefly. But it isn't. It's more like briefly times two. Or three even. But eventually it ends, and I pull back, "Yeah", I say and smile, "I heard your voice in the shower, and I just had to drop everything and come", a shadow passes on Sam's face, but is gone so quickly, I don't have the right to question its origin.

"Come on", Sam says, and nudges my shoulder, "Hurry up. We gotta get going."

"Are we still going to Sally's?", I ask hopefully. It's rare these days, that we go see the birds. Too rare. Maybe once in every two months. If even that. We're always busy, and it's too far away now. And Sam doesn't like going there anymore. She doesn't like seeing her old house, occupied by new people.

"Sure", she nods, and bows her head, "If you hurry up."

"Kei", I reply quietly, and stand up, "Don't look", I say, and remove the towel, so I can use it to dry myself off. Sam doesn't answer anything cute, like I expect her to. She stays quiet. I glance at her shortly, and she's still studying her shoes, "You done with Josh already?", I ask. Hopefully again.

She startles a little, and raises her head, "Eh... no", she says, "Not yet. We still got to go over a few things tomorrow."

Oh.

***

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

I don't know, when exactly it was, that Nicole found out. I just knew one day. I looked at her, and she looked at me, and I knew she knew. It didn't even matter to me. It didn't even surprise me. And it didn't really matter to her. Or it did. Cause it was Sam, I was in love with. But it didn't matter to her, that I was in love with another girl. Nicole has lots of bad qualities. Countless of them. But close-mindedness isn't one of them. And after a while, I started thinking, that maybe she was inclined that way herself. That maybe she had a crush on me. Had had for a long time. She never said anything. But the way she tried to break me and Sam up, and the way she always bent to my will, certainly supported that idea. But she never said anything. And it was good that she didn't. Cause I could never have returned those feelings.

Sam, on the other hand, was... quite upset, to say the least, with Nicole finding out. She would've been upset about anyone, but Nicole... her arch nemesis! It couldn't be! They had this huge fight, and I half expected Sam to start plotting a murder. And I was almost certain, Nicole would blackmail poor Sam. But she didn't. They just argued. And argued. And argued. So nothing really changed. Nicole just knew.

Time went by, and no one else figured it out. I had thought they would, a part of me even hoped they would. That way it would've become more real. Our love. All that secrecy has its lure, a very romantic lure. But in order for it to become stronger, and safer, people would have to know. You can't live your life in a closet, cause eventually you start wondering, what it is like outside.

***

"Girls?!", Jane shouts from the front door. Her view is blocked by two large grocery bags, and she doesn't see us slouching in the kitchen.

"Yeah, mom?", Sam asks, showing no interest in going to the woman's aid.

Jane struggles with the bags, twisting them a little to her side, so that she can see in front of her, "A little help?", she says, shaking her head grouchily, when she sees us lazing about. I leave my guard post by the refrigerator, and hurry to her side, "Thanks, Brooke", Jane says, releasing her hold on one of the bags. A few letters, she had been clinging onto with just two fingers, fall from her hand at the same time.

I hear how she mutters a curse under her breath, and follows me into the kitchen. Sam finally agrees to lend a helping hand, and stands up, "That's a lot of food", I note, when I place the bag on the table.

"Yeah, well...", Jane mumbles wearily, and drops her bag next to mine. She's tired, "You might not eat much, but Sam here is another thing altogether. She eats like a carnivorous horse. I'm gona need a second job, just to keep her fed."

Sam snickers from the hall, she has retrieved the letters and is now studying them in her hands, "Hey, you got something here, mom", she says, walking back into the kitchen.

"Let me guess... bills?", she sighs, turning around to face her daughter.

"Besides them, I meant", Sam smiles sheepishly. She glances at the woman under her brow, and hands her a stack of letters, "It's only got your name. No address, or noth...", Sam stops short, when she returns to study the last piece of paper left in her hand.

A few seconds of uncomfortable silence go by, and I feel the need to break it, "What?", I say, gaining the brunette's attention.

She looks up at me with pity in her eyes. And then quickly shakes it off, "Nothing", she says, lowering her arms.

I squint my eyes, but don't press the matter, "I think I'm gona take a short nap", Jane sighs. She's been scanning the bills, and it always depresses her, "You can handle dinner tonight, can't you?", she says, directing her words to the both of us. It's funny, the way Jane sometimes treats us like we're one and the same. And still doesn't see, we actually are that, in a way.

"Sure thing, mom", Sam says. Jane disappears back into the hall, heading for her room.

Seconds later, Sam makes a move for the same direction, "Where're you going?", I demand to know immediately.

She glances back at me, and shakes her head, "Nowhere", she says. Her arms sway slightly, and I notice the letter again, "Just to my room", she adds.

How about giving me my letter first? She smiles, and leaves. And for some reason, I let her go. It was my letter, I'm sure of it. But I cannot not trust Sam. She has never done anything to hurt me, and she won't start now. I just have to have faith in her. Like I've always had. Maybe it wasn't my letter at all. Just some surprise she's planning for me. For my birthday. For my eighteenth birthday. Yeah, that's what it was, a surprise related letter.

She comes back a few minutes later, when I've already started work on the dinner. Strides in with a warm smile on her face, and walks up real close to me, while I slice a tomato, "Can I help?", she asks.

Her hands grab me by the waist, and I try to wriggle free without having to interrupt the slicing task, "When have you EVER helped in cooking, Sam?", I say.

She moves back, and laughs shortly, "Hey, I help", she says, "By staying out of the way. That counts as helping."

I give her an adoring smile, "Well, I guess you could do that then", I say. She just keeps smiling back at me, and stays quiet. I turn back to the tomato, and make it even smaller with another cut.

"Seriously though", Sam talks again after a time. She has retreated to lean on the table, "I could boil potatoes or something."

"I think the stove manages that all on its own", I nod my head once, and grab another tomato, "Thanks, though."

"Come on, Brooke!", Sam starts to whine, "I wanna help. Give me something to do."

"What is wrong with you?", I frown, and wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, "You never want to help."

"And I always feel bad about that", she says.

And I would laugh, if it weren't for this feeling, that she's only offering to help, to make up for something. For something she hasn't told me about.

"Sam...", I say her name, and tense up, "What was in the letter?"

She stays quiet, and I wish I could see her eyes. Then I'd know, what she was thinking. If she was hiding something. But I don't see her. Instead, I steady the knife, and cut the tomato in half. She still doesn't talk. And I cut one of the halves, again in half.

"You know, I don't know...", Sam finally says, "Mom took it with her. But it was very weird, the way it didn't have an address. Someone must've just dropped it into our mailbox."

Okay... evade much? Like she doesn't know, which letter I meant. She's just hoping, I'll give up, and let it slide. I usually do, but this time it seems too important. Feels like I should press the matter. It isn't easy though. Lately, it's become harder to fight with Sam. The arguments have this weird feeling of finality about them. Like there's no way of taking back the evil comments afterwards anymore. We still say we're sorry, but the words sound hollow.

"How about that other letter?", I say and turn around, "The one you...", I stop in mid sentence

Jane is standing in the doorway. She's holding up a picture in her hand. Sam turns to look, what has caught my attention. And, she too, sees her mother. The woman is stumped, her eyes are flipping furiously between me and Sam. Finally she settles for her real daughter, and shoves the picture closer to the brunette. I still see it, "Wanna explain this?", Jane says.

It is a picture of me. And Sam. Kissing.

***

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

I have this way of blocking out unwanted thoughts. And ideas. Sometimes even words, or whole conversations. Sam says, that I avoid confrontation, and that it's not healthy. That I should be braver and deal with unpleasent things head on. And not live in some fantasy world. I don't really know, what she means by that. I don't live in a fantasy world. I'm constantly afraid of losing her. If it were a fantasy world, I wouldn't be. I would be secure about our relationship.

But, what I do is, close my eyes, and try to think of happy thoughts. Memories mostly. There are a few, that always work. There's the one with me and Sam in the playground. Laughing, and running around. The sun is shining. I'm trying to catch Sam, cause she's done something nasty to me. But I'm not mad, not the way I would be, if someone else had done it. There's this short moment of burning rage I feel. But it dies out very fast, when I see her smile and hear her laughter. And I know, I have to be around this girl forever. She's the only one, who can make me whole. Make me happy. She eventually lets me catch her, and we go tumbling down to the ground.

That's one. There's also another one. It isn't as clear, or as consistent. It's about the pigeons. Sometimes we're five in it, just watching the birds from afar. Circling in the sky. Sometimes we're older. Eight, or nine. When we started going over to Sally's place, to be closer to the pigeons. To help her feed them. Help her release them. Sometimes I reached into one of the cages, and gently picked up one of the birds. I stroked its feathers. I would bring it real close to my face, and place a kiss on top of its head. And Sam would yell something like, `Gross! Don't do that! Pigeons are filthy!' I would just ignore her, and tell the birds to do the same. I would tell them, that Sam didn't mean anything bad, she just didn't like me kissing anyone, or anything, but her. Then I would release the bird, and it would spring up into the sky. Never to be seen again. We always left before they came back, I hated seeing them come back. I know now, that they wouldn't survive on their own. But I'm not sure which is worse: living in captivity, or dying free. I guess the pigeons prefer living in captivity. After all, it is their choice to come back.

But, that's what I do. Think of happy memories, and hope that things work out.

***

"... Brooke?", Jane says. There's a weird mixture of concern and anger in her voice, "Brooke? Don't you have anything to say?", she says, when she sees my eyes focusing on her.

Sam is also looking at me, mildly worried. I guess I spaced out, "I'm sorry... about what exactly?"

"This!", Jane says too loud.

I startle back a little, and take the picture she's handing out. It's the kiss we shared in the dressing room earlier today. Me draped in the towel, and Sam brushing my wet hair. Oh, Nicole... Sam's gona kill her.

"Actually, yeah. I do", I say, and turn to look Jane in the eye, "Jane", I say, "I love your daughter."

Part Two

Jane stares blankly at me. Her mouth is left hanging open, and she's at a loss. She wants me to take back my words, and give a better explanation. She wants me to say, that the photograph is falsified. That it isn't true. That the world still makes sense.

I don't. I stare back at her calmly. Not blinking once. I don't enjoy causing pain to Jane, but I'm not gona lie either. It's time to make some changes. I'm almost eighteen. It's time to start a new life. With Sam.

"Mom?", Sam says timidly. She glances at me, and then back at her mother, "You okay, mom? Brooke didn't mean that. She was just..."

"I meant it", I sternly cut her off, and reward her cowardice with a glare.

Jane finally shakes free from her daze. She closes her eyes for a second, and when they open again, she's piercing me with an icy stare, "Love", she sneers in contempt. I refuse to flinch under her scrutiny, "So, this is my reward for opening my door to you, when you needed it", she says. I don't think Jane's ever sounded so disappointed in me, "My own fault, I guess. No good deed goes unpunished, after all", her words cut me deeper than anything in years. They hurt so much, that I'm reminded of my dad. And my mom. And the hurt they caused. And the words don't even stop there, just keep gnawing their way further down.

"Mom...", Sam tries to intervene.

"Love is not a punishment", I say, with such peace in my voice, I surprise even myself. I didn't think I possessed such strength, "It's a blessing."

"It's not love!", Jane shouts, "Stop saying that! You're sisters, for God's sake!"

"We're not sisters!", I yell back, and then abruptly quiet down, before going any further. I didn't mean to yell. I meant to stay cool. A tear starts to slide down my cheek, and I turn to Sam for help, "Tell her, Sam", please, tell her, you're in love with me.

We both turn expectant eyes towards the brunette girl, who is being awfully quiet. And she stays that way for quite a while, making me nervous. What if she actually sided with her mother? Then I'd be left all alone. She couldn't do that. Not Sam. Not to me.

"I love Brooke, mom", Sam finally says, putting my mind at rest. I breathe out heavily, and try not to look too smug in front of Jane, "I've always loved her."

Jane looks disappointedly at her daughter. She shakes her head slowly, "This isn't right", she says very sure of herself. Her eyes shift to me, "This isn't right", she repeats, and starts backing out of the room.

"Jane?", I call after her, when she's already in the hall. She has turned her back on us, but stops to hear me out, "Would it be right, if I were a boy?"

She doesn't answer. Only waits for a few seconds more, and then walks away. Sam stares at the spot, where her mother stood moments ago. She told Jane she loves me. I win. I'm a lousy winner, though. Now there's an awful lot of pressure on this relationship. Everything has to go just right, or it'll all be my fault. The first sign of trouble, and everyone's gona be pointing at me. I among the first.

Sam's gaze slowly turns to me, "What do you think she'll do?", Sam asks me, sounding hopeless.

"What do you mean?", I ask back.

"What... Do you think she'll throw us out?"

I smile at her, "Please. It's your mother", I say, trying to sound convincing, "She'll come around", maybe she could kick me out, but not Sam. No way. And I'm almost eighteen, and heading for college anyway. So it's not that bad.

"Yeah...", Sam agrees, and nods her head, "She'll come around", she says.

***

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

When Jane finally found out, it was in the worst possible way. Not from us. Not even by accidentally surprising us. But from a photograph, taken by a total stranger. She hated us for keeping the secret, and herself for being so blind. It's not easy being a mother. All that responsibility. And all those countless of ways to go wrong.

I don't think I would've blamed her, if she had kicked me out. She trusted me. Loved me like I was her own daughter. And raised me. And all those years I kept lying to her. Kept pretending to be something I wasn't. It was stupid of me, but it was also the only thing I could do. The only choice Sam gave me. But it's too easy, blaming it all on her. I should've pressured her more. Kept on nagging, until she agreed to tell. Secrets aren't healthy, they kill.

In the end, no matter how badly it went, I think Jane will eventually `come around', like I told Sam. She's a good person. One of the best. We betrayed her, yes, but nothing irrevocable happened. No hateful words were thrown around, no hasty decisions about the future were made. She will come around.

***

"God! Open your eyes, Brooke!", Sam's fuming, while we're walking towards the library, "She's pure evil!", she's practically screaming, not minding who hears her, "She's the devil."

"I know", I say, nodding my head. I know. Nicole is evil, "What she did is inexcusable. But it's just not that simple", I hate having to defend Nicole's actions. I don't know, why I'm even doing it. It's driving Sam crazy, "You don't know her like I do."

We walk quietly for the last yards, and reach the glass doors, which lead into the school library. It's quite busy here, at three in the afternoon. Lots of students, doing some serious studying. The finals are just around the corner. And Josh is also there. Sitting at a table, and facing the door. In his football uniform. He's such a jackass!

"I know she hates me", Sam says. She glances at me, and then pushes the door open.

And she's right. How can I be friends with someone who hates Sam as much as Nicole? I can't. It's not fair to Sam, "I'm sorry, Sam", I say, when we step into the library. She's about to head towards Josh, to finish the interview thingy, when I grab her hand. She jolts to a stop, and turns to look at me, "I won't... I won't see her again. Or, at least, I'll try to avoid it."

Sam smiles, and quickly strokes my cheek with her hand, "Good", she says, "She won't get away with it", she turns to go.

I don't like Sam's approach on this. Instead of thinking of ways to get even with Nic, we should be thinking of how to move on. What's done is done. What Nicole did was wrong, but it doesn't necessarily have to be all bad. Now that Jane knows, it's only a matter of getting past the confusion and anger, and we'll all be better off than before.

I watch how Sam navigates between the tables, and finally reaches Josh. The guy gets up from his seat and smilingly greets my girlfriend. Sam takes a seat next to him. Why not opposite? Why does she need to be so close to him?

Ick! I've turned into some gross Peeping Tom. Grimacing slightly, I force myself to look away, and head towards the shelves. I did have something to do, I didn't just come hear to spy on Sam. I'm in desperate need of a... a history book. Can I help it then, that the books I need, are placed so that a quick sideways glance at the big clock on the wall, also happens to reveal a view of the jock and the journalist? That's right, I can't. It's out of my control.

Not that there's much to spy on. They mostly just talk. Cause it's an interview, and talking is what it's all about. Occasionally, there's a shared laughter. Or an understanding nod from Sam, that disturbs me. But nothing more. I spend almost fifteen minutes picking out a book, and observing the interview. Towards the end, it starts to look like the mood is changing. Sam's talking much more, and it seems like Josh is only listening and asking questions. Although it's supposed to be the other way around. Sam also seems to have forgotten that I'm in the room. At first, she was giving me brief glances from time to time, but not for a few minutes now. It makes my spying seem even more wrong. And I decide to leave.

I choose a book, run it by the librarian, and exit the library. Quickly, and not looking once towards the two again. It's a private conversation, and I'm a sick girl for not trusting Sam. Even after yesterday, I still don't trust her... it's not right. She deserves more.

I walk about ten steps away from the library, and then stop. I should go apologize. Or, at least, tell her I'm going. I trace my way back to the glass doors, and am just about to go back in, when my heart stops. Josh is staring intently into Sam's eyes, and she doesn't seem to mind. A couple of seconds go by, and my hand seems to have frozen on the door handle. Then Josh quickly leans forward, and kisses Sam. My heart starts beating again, double pace now. To make up for the lost blood. The kiss doesn't last more than two seconds, and then Sam pushes him away and looks angry. But it was still a second too long. If she were truly disgusted by the kiss, she could've pushed him away in a second. Sam's head starts furiously spinning around, when she remembers I was there too. She must see me gaping through the door, as she jumps up from her seat, and hurries this way.

I turn and escape. Run through the half empty corridors, still gathering more than a few interested looks. Tears are clouding my vision, and I have no idea where I'm going. My legs do though, and they carry me into the deserted Novak.

Sam's no more than a couple of steps behind me. She grabs my arm and flings me around the face her, "It was nothing!", she says sternly, "I didn't want it! You have to believe me, Brooke!", I only whimper in response, and fight free from her hold. She lets go, and I retreat a few steps to put some distance between us. I refuse to look at her, and instead lower my gaze on the floor, "You have to believe me", she repeats. Sam can be very convincing, when she wants to. Or maybe I'm just inclined to believe everything she says.

"You kissed him", I whisper, and nod my head.

"He kissed me!", Sam fights back in a vehement voice. I sigh, and sit down on the sofa, "I couldn't have stopped him."

Even if you had wanted to, I want to add. But don't, because it wouldn't be fair. I have no right to judge her. She has done nothing but love and stand by me, all my life. If I start to harass her, because she let Josh kiss her for two seconds, I'm just trying to create problems out of thin air.

"Did you like it?", I turn my misty eyes to her. And scold myself for the question. I wasn't gona create trouble!

"You know I didn't", she says, glaring at me, "You saw me pushing him away."

"I'm sorry", I say, and try to smile. It doesn't quite work, though. I wipe my hand across my eyes, and give it another shot. This time I think I manage to pull it off, since Sam smiles weakly back, "I know you... wouldn't hurt me like that. But it's just... hard. When I know you like him too."

"Yeah, I like him. Josh is a great guy", she says, and comes to sit next to me. She presses her forehead against mine, and talks in soothing voice, "But he's nothing compared to you."

That's the thing with Sam. She can assure me of everything. When she's around, eveything is fine. The world is perfect.

But when she's away, it's all the more horrible.

Part Three

Saturday morning. My birthday morning. It's two days after Jane found out, and she hasn't spoken a word to me in that time. It hurts. Even if Sam isn't my sister, Jane is my mother. More than anyone else.

Sam wakes me up with a kiss. She is the most wonderful girlfriend a girl could ask for, "You're such a big girl now. I'm a little jealous of you, actually", she says with a smile. I grin back, and kiss her back. She looks happy enough, even though I know she's hurting more than me, because of her mother's silent treatment. I can't remember a time, when Jane's been angry this long. Sure, she fights a lot with Sam, but they're always short fights. Over in an hour. Very much like my fights with Sam.

We spend the better part of the next hour lying perfectly still, in perfect silence. I don't think I've ever loved her this much. And that's weird, cause I've loved her so long. I always thought that in time, the love would diminish. Guess not then. Or, maybe it's the fact that I'm losing her, that is intensifying my emotions.

It's close to ten, when we finally get up. I pull on a bathrobe, and Sam's still dressed in her pajamas. We go into the kitchen, and she promises to make breakfast for me.

I am losing her. For a while, at least. It dawned on me last night, after I got home from the last football game. Sam was sitting on the couch staring vacantly at the tv. She tried to put on a peppy face for me, but I saw past it. She was sad. Depressed. Jane, upon returning home, had breezed straight to her room, and hadn't come out once.

Turns out, Sam's idea of breakfast is a bowl of cereal and coffee. I don't have the heart to complain, though. I just eat it with a smile.

I realized that, if we kept this up, there was a good chance Sam would end up resenting me. For separating her from her mother. From the normal world. I couldn't live with myself, if I took anything away from her. And it's unfair to make her choose between me and a normal life. She will always choose me. Out of loyalty. I have to give her that chance at normal life. A chance to make up with her mother, a chance to date someone else besides me. I will lose her for a while, but if it really is meant to be, she'll come back to me.

"Is there something special you'd like to do today?", she asks a little hesitantly, while rinsing out the bowls.

"Be with you", I answer.

She throws a sweet smile my way, "Well, I thought, we could go to the movies. And dinner maybe. Or something...", there's a sort of an apologizing edge to her voice.

"Sounds great", I say, and mean it from the bottom of my heart. I couldn't ask for anything more.

"I'm really sorry, Brooke", she suddenly blurts out, a little louder, "We had this big party planned... with mom... but after... and then with Josh and Nicole... I just thought, maybe it was better to forget the whole thing", she talks very fast. Her back is turned to me, but I hear the few sobs between the words. And I see her body trembling.

I walk close to her, and circle my arms around her stomach. I place my head on her shoulder, "It's okay, you silly girl", I whisper into her ear.

She sobs once more, and rubs her cheek against mine, "I just wanted you to have a great day", she says.

"Every day I spend with you is a great day", I say.

She laughs through the tears, and turns off the faucet. I make enough room for her to turn around. She places her wet hands on both sides of my head, and kisses me. For the millionth time. But it feels better than any of the previous ones. It's so full of love, that I start to doubt my decision.

"So, what do you wanna do first? You can pick anything you want", she says, "Well, anything I can afford, at least."

I smile as we walk out of the kitchen, "I guess that rules out movies then?", I say. She smacks me lightly on the shoulder, and I laugh.

***

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

Happy belated birthday to me! This booklet is catching up with real life, been extremely busy these past days writing it. Only a couple of more days to record, and it's finished. At first, I planned on stopping right here, on my eighteenth birthday. Turns out, there's a few more things I need to jot down. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The birthday was a weird mixture of torture and bliss. Every time I managed to forget about the future, it was pure greatness. Sam seemed to be honestly happy the whole time, and not just faking it. In that respect, it was perhaps the best day in ages. But then there were the moments, when I was reminded of things to come, and it was almost as if a physical blow was struck to my chest.

We spent the day bowling at first, and then roller-skating later. We went there just because Sam can't skate to save her life. And it's quite funny listening to her complain. And of course, it's quite adorable to have her constantly clinging on to me for support... oh, God, how much it hurts to write this down now.

In between, she gave me her present. A silver framed picture of us in the playground. Me in the yellow coat, and Sam in the blue. With her homemade haircut. The sweetest gift, I've ever gotten. I mentioned to her a few years back, how much I would've wanted a photo of her in the blue raincoat. And she spent an eternity with her mom, going through all their old stuff in the storage room, trying to find one. Apparently Jane had been sure that such a thing existed. God, I love that woman. I hope she'll forgive me now.

In the evening, we were supposed to go to a dinner and a movie, like Sam suggested. But it never came to be.

***

"I just think, I should pick the movie, since I'm the one who's taking you out", Sam says. She opens the front door for me.

"Yeah, but it's my birthday", I answer, "I think I should get to choose."

We head into the kitchen, and find Jane in there. Talking to the phone. Sam's about to answer me, but only manages to utter one syllable, before seeing her mother, and letting her words fade away. Jane stares back at us with little emotion on her face, "Oh. Here she is now", she says into the phone, and holds out the receiver, "It's your dad, Brooke."

Oh, right. The yearly birthday call. I still freak out a little, every time I hear him mentioned. I glance quickly at Sam, who's also more than a bit shocked. I don't know if it's more because of my dad's call, or her mother's presence. I walk up to Jane, and grab the phone. She lets it go, and heads for the door. Doesn't leave, though. Just stops there, next to her daughter, and turns to look at me. I guess I'll have an audience for this conversation.

Tentatively, a little afraid it might bite, I lift up the receiver, "Hi", I say, pausing for a second, and then add for Jane's sake, "Dad."

Sam winces, and I can see her tensing up, even from this distance, "Hi, Brooke", the man on the other end of the line says. I know he's changed a lot during these years. I can tell it just by his voice. It's not nearly as frightening anymore. He seems much more relaxed, "Happy birthday", he says.

And I shift into this awkward phone conversation mode. Where I just talk, and don't really listen or care about the other person, "Thanks", I say.

"You having a fun day?"

"Sure."

"Jane said, you didn't have any party this year?"

"No. I'm spending the day with just Sam."

"Oh...", he says pausing for a few seconds, "That's nice... that you're still such good friends."

Okay... "Yeah, it is."

Again he pauses, and I prepare for good-byes. This is usually the point, where he finishes. But not this year, "Listen", he says, "Did you get my letter?"

It's my turn to fall silent. And fix my eyes on the younger brunette across the room. The McPhersons have been having a whispered conversation all along, but now Sam stops, when she sees me ogling, "What?", I ask my dad.

"A letter. I sent it about a week ago."

"No...", I start to drag out the word, "I didn't get any letter", I say. Sam shifts her weight on her other foot at the last
word, "Must've gotten lost in the mail."

"Yeah", he says, "Well, no matter", he goes on. I'm only barely listening to him anymore. Instead I'm studying Sam. And her discomfort. She took my letter, "I'm actually calling from our old house now", the voice says. I can't believe she took my letter, and didn't even tell me about it, "And I was wondering if you could come... visit tomorrow? There's something I wanted to talk to you about", he finishes.

There's an expecting silence, which I need to break, "Sure... I mean WHAT?!", he's HERE!, "You're here in Santa Monica?", I ask.

"He's here?!", Sam half shouts, and starts walking towards me.

"Yeah, I came today. So, could you come by tomorrow?", he says.

"What the Hell is he doing here?", Sam asks.

I get all confused with the two mixed voices, and lift a hand up to get Sam to quiet down. She stops a few steps short, and stares at me, demanding answers. I look away from her, and try to concentrate on the phone, "I... guess I could come by...", I say. Even though, the mere thought is bringing up a cold sweat.

"What?!", Sam asks real loud. I ignore her.

"Good. Around noon?", dad says.

"Okay. See you then", I say, and quickly hang-up without waiting for his answer. I'm afraid Sam might rip the phone from my hands, and say something she'd regret later. Or I'd regret.

"'See you then'?", Sam says incredulously, "You're not gona see him", she goes on right after, very adamant about her stand.

I nod past her, towards Jane, who's still evaluating the situation, "Sam...", I say quietly, trying to divert the girl's
attention.

"You're not gona see him", she repeats.

"Are you girls okay?", Jane asks, squinting her eyes.

"Umm...", I mutter, and walk around Sam, so I don't have to deal with her now, "Yeah, we are", I say, and nod my head once.

Jane nods too, and shifts her stare from me to Sam, who turns around, "Sam?", the woman says.

"Fine, mom", Sam says, and shrugs her shoulders, "Just fine."

Jane remains awfully serious for almost a minute. Just silently inspecting the both of us. I'm too scared to move or talk. I don't know why Sam's fallen quiet. But she has. I wonder what they were talking about before, when I was on the phone. Well, at least Jane's again treating me like a living creature, and not like a piece furniture. That's good.

Finally Jane's had enough of contemplating on the situation. She takes a deep breath and actually smiles to me, "I realize, there's... a million things we need to discuss", she says, shaking her head slowly, "But... it's your birthday, Brooke", she takes a step closer to the fridge, and opens it, "So, why don't we just forget everything else for today?", she says. Her hands disappear inside the refrigerator for a second, and when they emerge again, she's carrying a tray with a chocolate birthday cake on it, "Happy birthday, Brooke", she says.

I smile at her, and blink a few times to stop myself from crying. God, how much I love Jane.

***

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

I lied straight to Sam's face. Told her, I wasn't gona go see him. When the whole time, I knew I was. It felt a little unreal, meeting dad after all that time. I thought I'd be more scared. Disgusted. I wasn't. It had this funny feeling of closure, like this was how it was supposed to go. And when he told me about his plan, I knew it was all too convenient to be a coincidence. It was a sign.

He asked me to live with him. In the house. He wants to make up for all the evil things. I don't believe him. He doesn't want to make anything up to me. Maybe he might be out to ease his own guilt. But even that's a big maybe. Yeah, he's changed. But not to the extent, I'd believe he's making any kind of amends. I cannot trust him. Not now, not ever.

I'm here for two reasons. One, to give Sam space. So, she can really make a decision, without me pressuring her. Without me around, she can decide what SHE wants from life. Not what I want. It's always been about me.

Reason number two is, he promised to pay for my education. Which is a huge relief. No way can Jane afford to pay for me and Sam both. And she shouldn't have to. She's already done so much for me. I'll probably get a scholarship of some sort, but this way there's lots less pressure. Study-wise.

The only thing to do now, is wait. See what Sam comes up with, once she calms down.

***

"Jane?", I call her name softly through the door, and give it a quiet tap.

"Come in, Brooke", she replies almost immediately. Like she was expecting me.

I open the door just enough for me to slip in, and then close it behind me. Jane's sitting on the edge of her bed, applying moisturizing cream on her arms. I smile awkwardly at her, and for a reason unknown even to myself, start to nod my head. Jane frowns and tilts her head a little, "Did you want something?", she says.

Her voice is kind of soothing, and it encourages me, "Yeah... Just to talk", I say.

"Aha", she nods for me to go on.

"About me... and Sam", I say. Jane's face remains unchanged. But she's staring at me now. With her piercing eyes. Sometimes it feels like she's reading my mind. But if she could do that, she'd found out a lot sooner, "And this other thing."

"Your dad?"

"Yeah... He's back in town."

Jane smiles sympathetically, "I gathered that much."

"I went to see him today", I say, and shake my head a little, "I told Sam I wouldn't, but I went anyway."

"And now you're afraid, that she's gona be mad, when she finds out?"

"Eh...", I glance at Jane, and quickly bow my head down again, "Not so much, actually. It's only a drop in an ocean. The whole story is much more important. Though, she's gona hate me, all right."

"Why?", Jane's voice has a threatening edge to it. She's stopped rubbing her hands, and is giving her full attention to me.

I swallow hard, "Here's the thing. My dad asked me to move back into the house with him. And I think I'm going to", I talk fast. And when Jane opens her mouth to say something, I quickly go on, "I know you think this is wrong. What we have with Sam. And I don't agree, but..."

"Brooke...", she tries to interrupt.

"But I know you could be right, too. And I don't wanna hurt Sam. I want her to have just the kind of life she wants to have."

"Brooke..."

I'm still not finished, and I talk over her voice, "So, I'm gona go away for awhile..."

"Brooke, please, let me talk", Jane says, a little louder this time. And I shut up, "You can stay here, if you want to", she says, "I would never throw you out, Brooke. I hope you know that", I nod my head, just to ease her mind, "I love you almost as much as I love Sam", she says. Almost as much. That's the difference between real blood connection, and a made up one. The real one is always a touch deeper. No matter, how much you try to convince yourself otherwise. I'm glad Jane admitted it straight to my face, "And that's why it feels so wrong. You and Sam. I've watched you grow up together, and honestly, I've always seen you as sisters."

"Yeah, I get that", I answer, and look her in the eye. I can feel tears emerging in mine, "And that's part of the reason, why I'm leaving. If it is wrong, then Sam will realize it", I say, and try to smile. But instead, I start to cry. Silently. Cause I'm losing Sam.

"And so will you", Jane says. She stands up, but doesn't come closer.

I shake my head furiously, "No. I already know. This is the real thing. For me. But Sam...", sometimes it feels like I've tricked Sam into loving me, "I'm gona move in with my dad for a time. He even agreed to help fund my studies, if I did", I turn a bright, hopeful look to Jane. She smiles back a little, "So, that's good, right?"

"Sure", she says, and hurriedly strides over to me. She places her arms around me, and pulls my head to her chest, "Just as long as you know, you can always come back here."

I don't answer her anymore. I just press my head against her harder, and start to sob. I'm not just losing Sam. I'm also losing Jane. And she's been the only reliable adult figure in my life. The only one I have been able to turn to in ages. All my life, actually. Even before my mom left, I learned to trust Jane more. She would always listen to me. Guide me. Save me.

After five minutes, I'm all cried out. Jane lets me go, and I make an attempt for the door. She calls after me, though, "Brooke", she says. I glance back, "What happened between you and your father, when he left?", she asks.

I keep looking at her for a good ten seconds. Maybe she would deserve to know. But that'd be the end to my plan. It's in the past now, "It doesn't matter anymore", I say, and leave.

I close the door again, and travel the few yards down the corridor, to where my room is. The door is open, and when I step inside, I find Sam already there, waiting for me. Like I knew she'd be. I know her so well. Too well.

Oh, look, there's the letter even. She hands it to me, "Here you go. Now you don't have to go see him", she says. I take the letter, and place it on my desk, before sitting down on the chair. Sam remains standing there, in the middle of the room, "I'm sorry, I took it. I just knew it couldn't be anything good", she says. She gives me a few moments to answer, but I'm not ready yet. This is scary as Hell, "Aren't you gona read it?", she asks, pointing towards the letter.

I shake my head, "I already know what it says", I answer.

Sam gets all serious, "What do you mean?"

"I went to see him today."

"Oh!", Sam laughs a little and spins around. For a second I think she's gona rush out of the room. But she only takes a few steps towards the door, and then spins around again, "You did. How nice! And weird at the same time", she says frowning, "Cause I remember a certain blonde PROMISING me, she wouldn't go see that bastard."

Could you not take the moral high ground here? You stole my letter! I almost say it aloud, but manage to keep my mouth shut. Talking with Sam is so much harder. I'm always getting into arguments with her. Even at times, when I need to keep calm.

"Look, Sam... there's something... you're not gona like this", I say.

"You're damn right, I'm not!", she half shouts, "We should call the cops on him! And you're..."

"Sam, I'm leaving", I blurt out, when she pauses to breathe.

And the pause just grows longer by the second. She doesn't understand, "Excuse me?", she finally says.

"I'm leaving", I repeat quickly, when I still have the guts. A moment longer, and I would've taken the words back. Now it's too late, though.

"No, you're not", she shakes her head, and talks in an even voice, "We've still got a few weeks of school left. We'll leave together. To college, in the fall."

"I'm not leaving school. I'm leaving you, Sam", I say, and bow my head. It's too hard to look at her, when I'm hurting her like this. She doesn't answer, so I go on, "You can try out different things. You can... date guys. You know, cause... maybe you want children someday. And I can't give you that..."

"Haven't we had this conversation before?", Sam angrily says, "It feels like we have."

"Yeah, we have", I nod my head, but keep my eyes on the floor, "But the last time I didn't give you a choice. This time I will."

"Fine", Sam answers in a heartbeat, "I choose you."

"No. I'm giving you the choice by going away."

"That doesn't even make any sense!", she shouts, and walks closer to me, "Is this still about Josh's kiss? Cause I already told you..."

"It's not about that...", I cut her off, "Well, partly it is, I guess", I say, and turn to look at her. She has a weird look of desperation about her. I was hoping she'd take it better. That maybe she'd actually been thinking about the same thing, just afraid to say anything. I was almost sure of that, "Don't you ever wonder, how it would feel to be with him? Instead of me?"

"No. I love you, Brooke", she says, adamant about her point of view.

I sigh and shake my head, "I know you do. You love me so much...", I let my voice trail of, and take a different approach, "Sometimes I think your mom might be right. I mean, people are always, ALWAYS, telling us, how we could so well be sisters. Even you said that, when you were younger! And I'm just afraid, I might've somehow abused your love, and turned into something I wanted. That maybe you don't really feel that way in your heart."

"You're over analyzing this, Brooke! I love you just the way I want to. There's nothing wrong with it", Sam says. She kneels down in front of me, and looks quite hopeful actually. She thinks I'll budge. But I won't. I've made up my mind.

"Doesn't matter, Sam", I say, shaking my head, "I'm going. If you're right, if you truly love me, then it's only for a while. Isn't that the healthy thing to do in every relationship, anyway? Take a short break, and see, if you really can't be without the other one?"

Sam stares intently at me. Tears have started sliding down her face. I only want to brush them away. But it's not my job anymore, "When did you become so grown-up, all of a sudden?", she says. Her anger is subdued, replaced only by sadness.

"Yesterday", I answer.

She straightens her back, and looks down at me for a moment, "Fine, then. If you're so sure about it", she says.

I nod once. Sam turns around, and walks across the room. She leaves my room, and closes the door. She'll go into her room, and cry. She'll cry, but she'll understand. Either she knows, she loves me in that way, and that we'll be together again soon. Or she knows she can now have the life she really wanted. But she'll hate me in the morning, when I tell her the rest of it. When I tell her about my dad.

***

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

A whore, she called me.

I can smile at that now. Then it almost made me cry.

She said, my dad would only rape me again. I said, he couldn't. Cause I'm stronger now. Older and wiser. I can stop him. If he tries anything. Sam said, I was only kidding myself. I was kidding myself, if I though the man had changed for the better. And I was kidding myself, if I thought I could do anything to stop him.

I let it go, and instead told her about the money he offered. `So, you're his whore, then?', she said. Her exact words. A whore. Hurts, when a person you love calls you that. But I know, it wasn't really her talking. It was the anger and the worry. She was angry at me for leaving, and worried for going back to that house.

And she apologized before I left. Sam always apologizes. She wished me luck, and hoped she was wrong about him. That I would find him changed. Like I was hoping. She knew. Sam always knows.

We agreed to wait over the summer. See each other as little as possible, and then maybe get back together in college. Summer's too short a time, though. Especially, if you know it's only for the summer. But a part of me wants to go back to her already, and it hasn't been a week yet. After three months my noble intentions are only a distant memory, and I'll be ready to do anything to be with her.

Epilogue

From the diary of Brooke McQueen:

The last page. And the last entry. I love it when things just fit neatly together. Okay, so maybe I've expanded this journal thing further than was the original intention. So what? It had empty pages left... which are now filled with complete nonsense, like this.

Seriously though, I'm one step away from calling Sam. I miss her so much, it feels like I've lost a part of myself. And not just any useless thing, like my brain, but my heart. There's just this big old hole in my chest now. And it hurts. Is it too late to plead insanity? I just want her back.

And I want out of this house. I'm starting to think Sam was right. That dad hasn't changed. I don't have any clear evidence of it yet, I'd be long gone if I did. But there're small things. Like clues. The way he stares at things. With this intensity that scares the shit out of me. I was watching tv with him the other night. It was dark, and when the flickering lights from the television flashed on his face, it was like looking into the past. He had the exact same expression on his face. Or, so I thought. In the morning, it seemed like I imagined the whole thing. But then again, that's exactly what I kept telling myself all those years ago.

But, besides the staring, there isn't much. He seems a lot more relaxed now. He talks more. Even laughs sometimes. Not that he didn't then too...

I just don't know. I've taken precautions, though. I've started carrying a...

***

A pigeon sits on a tree branch, outside a second floor window of a big mansion on a hill. It has been coming here for a few days now. Drawn to the house every time it's set free. It has no idea why, though. Why does it feel the need to come here, when it could be soaring aimlessly, miles above the place. It shuffles its wings shortly, and almost flies away. But still something forces it to stay. It flails around its head, and finally turns to look through the window. All it sees though, is its own reflection.

But beyond the window, a girl has just finished looking at the bird. She is now hunched over her desk, and is writing, when suddenly there's a knock on her door. As the door is pushed open, the girl also jumps up from her chair. Her hands instinctually go into the pockets of her bathrobe.

A man walks into the room. He has a smile on his face as he asks how the girl did in her exam. There isn't answer at first, and even after a time the only response is one mild word. The man ignores the heavy mood and walks inside the room. He starts telling the girl, how happy he is now that they're working out their problems.

His problems, the girl corrects. She removes her left hand from the pocket, and pulls the rims of her bathrobe tighter together. Yes, the man agrees. He turns his back to the girl, and studies the barren walls of the room. And he talks some more. Of, how he's grateful for this second chance. That maybe this time, they can really be father and daughter. He says he doesn't understand, what went wrong the first time.

The girl is finished talking. She removes her right hand from the pocket too, and raises it up, next to her head. In it, she has a long kitchen knife. The man talks, and talks. She stops listening too, and only waits. Finally the man is finished, and turns back around. He still has the smile on his face. It's the smile really, the girl realizes. It's fake. Forced. It doesn't belong on the man's face. It's there only to fool her.

The man's expression changes to outrage, when he notices the knife. What, he starts to ask, but never gets to finish. The girl lets out a shriek, and strikes the knife with all her might, driving it straight into the man's chest. It sinks in with surprising ease, all the way to the handle. After delivering the attack, she quickly jumps back, away from the man's reach. Needlessly though, as he only manages to turn his eyes to the black handle sticking out of his chest, and then back to the girl. His last question dies on his lips, and he only lets out a low gurgle. His legs give out from under him, and he falls. First to his knees, and then backwards. His shirt has started to turn from white to red.

The girl gapes at the scene in disbelief. Minutes roll by, and she doesn't so much as close her mouth. It isn't until a soft clang on her window, that she startles awake. She spins around just in time to see a disoriented pigeon struggling to get wind under its wings.

The girl springs into action. She hurries into her closet, and retrieves a suitcase. She whisks it onto the bed, and starts filling it with clothes. After a while she stops, then empties the case, and throws it onto the floor. She then rushes back inside the closet, picks out a large bag, and starts putting the same clothes in it.

Still high above the house, the pigeon is flying circles. Free from its spell, it decides to go home. It soars down a little lower, and heads straight to east. Away from the ocean. It flies first over the street, then a couple of other large houses. More streets and houses. It crosses a playground, where it has been a couple of times before. But not today. It flies above a small patch of forest. And beyond that forest, it already recognizes its home. A cage behind a small yellow house. It slowly starts to glide down, and comes to as low as ten feet. And then again, something seems to come over it. It has had enough. No more cages, it decides.

Below it, a woman is quietly watching its descent. And then frowns, when the bird suddenly starts waving its wings, and ascends back up to the sky. She frowns after the bird for a while, then closes the empty cage on the ground. She picks up the last cage, and circles around her garage, on to the front yard.

A brunette girl is waiting for her there. She accepts the cage when offered, and wonders, why it's empty. The answer is a slow comment, that the bird decided it's better off flying solo. The girl frowns a little, then shrugs, and finally hoists the empty cage on the back of a pickup truck, which is already filled with all kinds of junk.

The rebel bird reminds the woman of someone, and she asks the girl, where her blonde friend is.

A painful expression flashes across the brunette's face. She hides it quickly though, and answers that the girl is all grown up now.

"Doesn't need me anymore."

< end >

Thanks for reading. Hope you've enjoyed it,
Megan