If there was anything Terry hated more than his name, it was the little house across the street. He hated every bit of it. The way it reeked poor, the way the wind chimes sounded so peaceful and old, the way the vines gently grew in between the crumbling stone base.

Terry despised that house.

No, he loathed it.

There weren’t any words to describe his hatred, that aching feeling that absorbed him whole. The feeling that pushed any empathy, if he had any, deep into his chest, far from sight. It was as small and as far away as a twinkling star.

Terry almost dreaded to walk out the door for school that morning. He could see the picture so clearly.

Terry would walk outside his large brick mansion to the bus wearing a smug grin. Then, he’d hop on the bus, practically radiating rich and superior. He’d sit down next to his friend George, who had the nerve to take the window seat. Before Terry could peep out a word, George let out a disgusted snarl.

“Ew, you live next to that?”

And just like that, his whole world would begin to crumble. The laughs of other children, his face turning an embarrassing shade of red.

Terry shuddered, snapping back into reality. He’d already stalled for how long? At least ten minutes. The bus must be waiting for him to arrive.

Terry pulled his backpacks straps tightly against his shoulders and opened the door widely, hoping all the kids on the bus could see the glassy white enterior as he went out to greet them.

Wait.

Where was the bus?

He looked left and right, half of his brain suspecting the whole bus, including the bus driver, to jump out from the bushes and yell, “April Fools!” Then he’d laugh alongside them and-

“Did you miss the bus, sweetheart?”

Ugh. Sweetheart? Maybe he despised that even more than the house next door. Or his name.

He looked around, trying to find who sprouted those less than delightful words. His eyes landed on the eyesore across the street. The motion of a rocking chair caught his eye. An old women with silky grey hair sat with a green ball of yarn in her lap. He could feel the pressure of her teal eyes pushing down on him.

Terry sometimes felt like he had a sixth sense when it came to people looking at him. Though, it could be quite exhausting since he was always wherever the worlds eyes lied.

The woman cocked her head curiously as Terry made his way though his green yard. He looked left and right, and left and right again, and again.

Perhaps the bus was late?

“It left about fifteen minutes ago.” The woman informed him. A sympathetic smile coated her face making Terry want to gag. He managed to hold back, but not without a snarl forming in the back of his throat.

He missed the bus. What could be more embarrassing than that? He could imagine George and all the kids waiting for the door of his house to open. Their eyes wide as if waiting for their favorite celebrities. Maybe they protested when the bus driver finally hit the gas. Maybe they tried to take over the bus to go back and—

“Can your parent take you to school?” The woman asked. Her voice was still soft, yet Terry jumped at the sudden question.

His parents? Terry couldn’t decide if they would kill him or themselves if they had to take him to school. Even sharing the same car with him must’ve sounded detestable.

“No.” He answered simply, not meeting the woman’s gaze.

“I would drive you myself, but these old eyes wouldn’t be able to focus on the road.” The woman laughed. Terry didn’t even try to join in. He was stuck in a horrible situation.

It was either go back inside and face the wrath of his parents or walk several miles to school, and he wasn’t doing either of those.

“The school is an awful long ways away. You can stay with me while you wait for your parents.” The woman suggested, her eyes lighting up at the thought of company.

Terry couldn’t help but cringe, but he had to admit, it seemed like his best option. Hopefully no one would see him sitting with his old neighbor in matching rocking chairs. That story would spread the halls of his school faster than light.

Terry shrugged his backpack onto the wooden porch heavily and slumped into the chair, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Can I get you anything?” The woman asked, croqueting a few stitches in what looked like a scarf.

“No.” Terry said, not really wanting to talk. He didn’t even want to match the old woman’s gaze, though, he supposed he might have to eventually.

“You can call me Mrs. Georgia.” The woman said.

Terry nodded.

Mrs Georgia.

That same sounded awfully familiar to George, which led him down a train of thought about his friend.

How was the school doing without him there? Who were they watching? How were they even funtioning? He shuddered. It must be havoc. If only the bus waited for him.

“How did you miss the bus?” Mrs. Georiga asked.

“You mean how the bus left without me? I have no clue!” He complained.

The woman laughed lightly. “The bus isn’t going to wait on you, sweetheart. The world had to divide responsibilities. The drivers job is to get to the house and yours is to make the bus on time.”

Terry narrowed his eyes. “They could’ve waited a few minutes.

“Perhaps, it would’ve been kind, but we can’t blame either side, can we? We all have responsibilities and duties. In your case, sometimes those bump into each other and cause disruption.”

Mrs. Georgia added a few more stitches to her scarf, as if she didn’t just spit out something an English teacher would say.

Terry couldn’t think of anything to say. He expected himself to be more snarky towards this lady who lived in the house he hated, but for some reason the mean words weren’t just pouring out of him like they usually did. Perhaps it was the way he took her side in a gentle, loving way.

“I guess so.” He said instead, surprising himself.

The woman smiled. “On that note, how about cookies?”

“Yes please!”

Gary kicked the couch repeatedly with his heels, his arms folded across his stomach hoping to irritate the old man. He hated being watched by Mr Carlson, he was old and boring and had no games or toys at all. “I’m hungry.” Gary said. Mr Carlson looked up with that annoying smile, he always smiled and Gary couldn’t figure out why. Was it payment. “Sure.” Mr Carlson said. “What you feel like having.” Gary hummed for a few seconds as if he were thinking. “Got any fruity pebbles.” Gary knew the old man didn’t have that cereal but he didn’t care. “Sorry, I don’t. There anything else you got a taste for.”

If all children are a blessing, Tyler was definitely in disguise. Although all ten year old boys are flawed creatures still becoming their best selves, Tyler seemed to in so many ways becoming an actively ruder and cockier little jerk with each passing day. The youngest of four, he was both overindulged and ignored in that delicate balance that somehow led simultaneously to an inflated sense of importance and cripplingly low self esteem. Still in elementary school, most days he more closely resembled a selfish frat boy than a considerate Boy Scout.

The sun streamed gently into the window through the opaque voile curtains, illuminating Tyler’s designer decorated room. It was Saturday morning, when one might find a ten year old boy bouncing out of bed to gorge on sugary cereal in front of cartoons, to play ball in the backyard or annihilate aliens in some video game apocalyptic hell scape. As the rays creeped across the pillowcase penetrating his eyelids, Tyler sat up excited to take these activities and turn them into some form of trouble. But then he remembered it was Saturday the 18th and he threw his head back on the pillow in disgust.

Saturday the 18th was the day he had overheard his mother call “the schedule from hell” while on the phone with Aunt Susan. Kaitlyn and Kayleigh, his 17-year old twin sisters, had the finals in their doubles tennis tournament at 9am an hour away in Greenesville, his brother Tanner’s baseball team which his father coached was playing out of town in back to back games and his mother had three real estate open houses across town. Eavesdropping on the conversation earlier this week, Tyler had been surprised his mother had even mentioned to Aunt Susan the problem of who was going to take care of him, but his stomach sunk when he heard her say, “Thank goodness Mrs. Franklin down the street has agreed to let Tyler stay at her house for the day.”

The entire neighborhood considered Mrs. Franklin to be a source of kindness and generosity, the neighbor with the large garden who pretended not to notice when children picked her flowers for their crowns and never minded seeing a small boy with a pretend eyepatch using her oak tree as a pirate ship. Tyler, however, did not see any use for the neighbor 60 years his senior. Her house only had one tv, and it didn’t even have Bluetooth compatibility. Her couches were from Cost Co, he knew because he recognized it from the mailer he flipped through on her coffee table because she didn’t have comic books. All of her snacks were generic store brands, and her drinks were all diet and tasted like how Tyler imagined the old water that gathered at the bottom of the school drinking fountain that took too long to drain would taste like. Forget the aliens, that was Tyler’s true idea of a hell scape.

And yet, there he was on the front porch, Mrs. Franklin opening the door wide for him, his mother waving and honking from her car as she drove off. Tyler avoided her gaze as he brushed past her welcoming arms as if making eye contact would commit him to having to be pleasant to her.

Joseph never gets in trouble. Not because he behaves, but because he’s really good at not getting caught. Today, his luck would run out.

“Joooooooossssaseeeph, come here right now.” His mom yelled from the kitchen. He put down his sketching pad and charcoal pencil and went to see what the fuss was about. She waved a piece of paper in his face before placing it in his hands.

It was a screen shot of a website he used to sell a few random items around the house that nobody was using and that he was certain nobody would miss. Most of these things were in the garage. How important could they be?

“I can’t even look at you right now,” his mom said, nostrils flaring.

“Should I go to my room?” Joseph started to walk.

“Not so fast.” She stopped him in his tracks. “You enjoy your room. So no. Mrs. Geraldine is waiting next door. You will go over there and help her with whatever she needs.”

“Mom! Anything but that,” Joseph pleaded. “She’s four hundred years old and her coffee breath is so extra.”

“Stop being rude. She’s very sweet and nobody visits her. It’s settled. See you for dinner.”

Joseph accepted his fate and walked next door. His Saturday was ruined. Nothing he could do now but get it over with. He knocked ever so lightly hoping she wouldn’t hear him, but the door swung open. Mrs. Geraldine greeted him with a big smile, lipstick on her teeth, and a pitcher of his favorite drink: half iced tea, half lemonade. He wondered how she knew.

“You’ve gotten so big, sweetie. How old are you these days?”

“Fourteen,” Joseph said and followed her to the kitchen table. She poured him a glass and they both sat down. “What do you need help with?”

“Nothing, honey, but I could use some practice on my domino game. It’s been a while and I’m getting rusty.”

“You play dominoes?” He asked sitting up in his chair. “I’ve never played before.”

“I can teach you. When we finish today, you’ll be able to beat anyone but me,” she smiled and raised her glass to clink his.

Joseph laughed. “Oh so you have skills like that?”

Geraldine nodded and broke out a new Domino set she bought years ago.

Joseph took another sip. Maybe his Saturday wasn’t ruined after all.

Bradley Harshaw’s careless mistake ruined Cameron Barker’s life. Staring out the passenger window, the thought replayed in Cameron’s mind the same way his mother’s words of ‘it’ll be alright,’ played over and over.

He’d feared for his mother’s safety the moment he laid eyes on Bradley all those months ago. It was an uncomfortable thought just thinking about his mother out in the dating pool again. Giving the app a thorough background check, and finding no glaring red flags he thought maybe she might have success. But then she brought Bradley into their lives.

For years it had only been the two of them. His father died during a hospital complication when Cameron was far too young to remember. With the passing of each year, his mother never failed to remind him how much he resembled his father. It was a snow day the first time Cameron met Bradley. Unfortunately, three feet of snow wasn’t enough to stop his mother from having to go to work, so he had the entire house to himself to spend it playing video games and raiding the refrigerator to his heart’s content. That evening, when she came home, rather than hear the sound of her keys being set down, he heard her giggling.

“Cameron, this is Bradley.”

Bradley extended his arm, a coughing fit erupting from his lungs. “Hey sport,” he said, wiping the corner of his mouth. The pungent stench of tobacco on his breath turned Cameron’s stomach. Cameron couldn’t decide if it was Bradley’s greasy and unkept appearance, or the primal urge in his eyes when he stared at Cameron’s mother that bothered him more.

Three months had passed into his mother’s new relationship with Bradley and Cameron still hadn’t seen what his mother saw in him. He worked in construction, but when the weather grew colder, Cameron found Bradley on their sofa more and more. Bradley’s behavior was neurotic most days with absurd arguments, and after snooping through his coat pockets one night, Cameron learned why.

Setting the rolled marijuana cigarette on the table when he and his mother had a night without Bradley around, his mother’s eyes widened before she shook her head assuring Cameron that Bradley didn’t do drugs and that that must’ve belonged to one of his friends.

It would take six more months and the pile of ash that had once been their home for his mother to realize who Cameron knew Bradley was all along. It wouldn’t be until after the fire was put out, with Cameron’s mother in shock, that Bradley would explain he had accidentally lit a rolled marijuana cigarette and left it burning in the living room. He justified it of course by claiming the lack of jobs at work drove him to just need what he called “a little relaxation.” I only closed my eyes for a minute, he’d claimed.

Unfortunately, Cameron and his mother were now left standing in front of a pile of ash. What little remained of their beautiful home had become nothing more than a marijuana stench-filled pile of ash. The drug-laden smoke had become so pungent, it had their neighbors covering their noses as they stood on their front porches while they stared in horror.

Glancing over at his mother, her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that she was leaving indents in the pleather. According to the GPS, they still had another thirty minutes to go before they arrived in Samson county.

“Grandma Evelyn is looking forward to seeing you.” His mother gave him a weak smile as she loosened her grip on the wheel.

Cameron let out a heavy sigh and pulled out his phone. His girlfriend - Jaryn - had been venting along with him last night about how much she too hated this new situation and how she didn’t understand why he couldn’t just stay with her and her parents. It wasn’t like they were newly dating, or that their parents had never met.

Seeing no new messages from her, he shoved his phone back inside his pocket.

His mother reached out for his hand. “Cameron, please don’t do this.” Rolling his eyes, he jerked his hand away.

“This is your fault,” he muttered.

It was Bradley’s lit marijuana cigarette that ultimately led to the fire, but Cameron pushed the blame solely onto his mother. Bradley had bought her off with flowers, fancy dinners and promises of a future he had no intention of following through on. Just weeks before the fire, Cameron came to her with another concern, and she brushed him aside. He’s trying his best to get to know you, but you refuse to give him a chance, she told him.

Now he was being forced to live with his grandmother who he hadn’t seen in over a decade. Would she even recognize him? What would they talk about? She didn’t even have a cell phone. Cameron threw his head against the seat trying to determine how he would survive the next week.

His grandmother’s home looked surprisingly modern, a brick exterior with large Hydrangea plants lining the sidewalk. A fresh set of snowflakes fell on his shoulders while he went and gathered his suitcases out of the trunk. When he got inside, his mother and grandmother were standing in the foyer, his mother giving his grandmother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you again, Evelyn.” Evelyn set her hand on top, nodding.

“Of course, dear. You’ll always be family.” Cameron noticed the way his grandmother’s nose upturned and the curves of her body. She looked like the kind to shop at Tiffany’s. It was clear Cameron would be forced to tidy her home like a teenage servant.

Pulling her keys out of her coat, his mother gave Cameron one final hug, promising him that when she came back, they would have a permanent residence again. He didn’t respond to that, nor did he return the ‘I love you too’ when she walked out the door.

His grandmother eyed him up and down, making Cameron feel like he was a mannequin on display. Satisfied with her inspection, she gestured towards the velvet couches in the other room.

“Come along. We have a great deal to talk about. I’m looking forward to getting to know my grandson.”

Reaching for her cane, she shuffled over to the couches. Refusing to follow her, he glanced inside the room. Set against the large window, he saw a large fish tank. Inside, blue, yellow, and red tropical fish lazily swam around.

Instead, Cameron reached for his suitcases and treaded up the stairs without so much as a nod or a wave. All of the doors upstairs were shut except for the one at the end of the hall. The carpet squeaked under his weight and he slammed the door as he took in the room. The furniture had been freshly polished but the room smelled vaguely of moth balls. On the far wall, a shelf of trophies stared back at him. They were his mother’s. Bowling, softball, and cross country.

Falling onto the squeaky mattress, he questioned what happened to the woman his mother used to be. His heart twinged at the thought and refusing to give her anymore thought, he pulled out his phone instead. There was only one person he whose voice he wanted to hear. His call went straight to Jaryn’s voicemail. Feeling perturbed and the weight of two sodas on his bladder, he went to find the bathroom.

“Cameron!” At the bottom of the steps, his grandmother stood holding the railing. Her voice had an unnatural cheeriness to it that reminded Cameron of those Hallmark movies his mother loved this time of year.

The closed door wasn’t enough to stop her from continuing. “I’m getting hungry. Are you hungry? I was thinking-“

Stepping into the hall, Cameron eyed her and shouted out, “I’m not hungry.” She raised her eyebrows, biting back a smile. What was so funny? Was the fact that his life had completely been turned upside down humorous to her?

She opened her mouth, hesitated and closed it again. She turned and headed down the hallway. Staring down at the front door, Cameron debated on making a getaway tonight. He’d take a bus, but he was willing to walk if that’s what it took. Being here with a woman he hadn’t seen in years, miles away from his life and everything he knew, was torture. He’d call Jaryn again and ask her to come pick him up. But where was he? The numbers on the mailbox had been covered in snow when they pulled in earlier. Somehow though, he would get out of here.

An hour later, empty protein bar wrappers covered the comforter. Cameron’s stomach continued to growl. Turning on his side, he tried to put the intoxicating aroma out of his mind. Fresh garlic, basil and tomato sauce carried itself into his room, tempting him mercifully. Cursing his lack of snack preparation, he went downstairs into the kitchen.

His grandmother turned and greeted him with her wooden spoon in hand. Behind her, a pot of tomato sauce was bubbling on the stove. His mouth watered just looking at the bowls of freshly grated Parmesan placed on the counter.

“I’m glad you changed your mind,” she said.

“I didn’t. I just came for a glass of water.” He filled a glass, drank half, then went to look through her pantries. They weren’t as bare as he’d expected and he was relieved to see a package of his favorite crackers. Making sure his grandmother wouldn’t see, he smuggled them inside his sweatshirt and headed back upstairs.

“There’s more crackers in the other pantry if those aren’t enough.” Cameron froze for a moment and turned back towards her. How had she known?

She pointed to the cupboard beside the stove. “In there. You just help yourself, okay?”

Back inside his room, he called Jaryn.

“Hey,” she said. She sounded like she’d just woken up.

Cameron’s tone was solemn. “Hey.” He could hear her shuffling around her room and the distant whine of Winne asking to be let in.

“Did you make it to your grandmother’s?”

“Yeah.” He grew quiet, wishing he were with her. “Any chance you’d be open to a late-night adventure tonight?”

She sighed, but Cameron knew she was smiling. “If you’re asking me what I think, I’m sorry to have to disappoint you.”

Not satisfied with her answer, he probed more. “And why not? Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course I do, but my car’s in the shop,” she sighed. “Brent took it out the other night.” Jaryn’s brother had the worst driving record of anyone he knew. He laughed, but felt a twinge of sadness that he’d be stuck here for the night. They spoke for a bit longer and when she hung up, Cameron could hear the familiar nightly news channel coming from downstairs.

With the crackers unsatisfying his endless hunger, he went to make himself a plate of whatever his grandmother had been preparing earlier. He could hear her in the living room, narrating her thoughts alongside each story, and the sound of knitting needles clicking together. After a moment, the sound stopped.

“Cameron? Is that you?” She asked.

Grabbing his plate from the microwave, he stood in the doorway, staring back at her.

“Sit.” The entire couch was covered in various balls of yarn and without saying a word, she pointed over to the empty chair beside her.

She grew impatient as he stood there. “Now.” On autopilot, he immediately sat beside her. Her tone had been overly sweet earlier. Now it had the power to command a room. He noticed the curve of her lip turn up as she resumed her knitting. The lack of conversation didn’t bother him, but it must’ve been bothering her, for she felt the need to open her mouth.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He didn’t, and instead shoveled another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

His grandmother glanced over at him for a moment, as if she were waiting for him to accept her olive branch. “Let’s try this instead. Why don’t you tell me about the loser your mother brought home this time?”

Cameron nearly choked and grabbed his glass of water. “What?” He asked, wiping his mouth.

She let out a soft chuckle. “Pardon my language. That may have been too blunt.”

Seeing what his grandmother was trying to do, he straightened against the chair. “My mother’s life is her business.”

He watched her pull more yarn from beside her feet, her fingers swiftly moving. “But you’re angry.” That was an understatement. He was livid, but refused to discuss his frustrations, especially not with her. Not with a woman he didn’t even know. He didn’t care if she was family or not.

“It’s alright to have mixed feelings about your mother,” she said. She was trying hard to coax him to unburden himself and talk, but he refused. Taking his plate to the sink, he headed back up the stairs to his room.

“Goodnight Cameron,” she called out to him. He slammed his door shut in response.

The past couple of days had been duplicates of his first day. His grandmother might need a cane, but she didn’t seem to use that as an excuse. Each morning he heard the hissing of the coffee pot, and the sizzle of breakfast being cooked. Being a local volunteer at the library downtown, she left him to explore her home. Cameron spent most of his time watching her collection of tropical fish. The water was spotless and the bottom of the tank was filled with hand-painted ceramic corals for the fish to swim through. She had photographs scattered throughout the rooms, some with thin layers of dust on the frames. Neither of them had spoken more than a gruff ‘morning’ and the occasional weak smile. Their conversation from the other night hadn’t been re-visited and for that, Cameron was grateful.

On a table beside the couch, Cameron noticed what must have been his grandmother’s journal. That must be where his mother gets her love of journaling from, he thought. He eyed the journal once more, curious as to what was written in between the pages. Had she written about him? As his fingers lifted the cover, he heard the slam of the front door. Swiping his finger away, he gave himself a paper cut in the process.

His grandmother hung up her coat, slipped on her slippers and made her way into the kitchen, without saying a word to Cameron. He’d spent the previous night asking Jaryn to help him decipher what his grandmother meant that first night.

“It sounds like your grandma’s no stranger to your mother’s taste in men.” She’d said. Cameron wondered what their early relationship was like when his dad was alive and what it had become after he died.

“Do you think there’s bad blood between them?” He asked.

She sighed. “I don’t know. If you’re curious, just ask her.”

Thinking about his girlfriend’s words, he headed into the kitchen and sat on the barstool. He watched as his grandmother reached for a paper plate before setting three chocolate balls on it.

She slid the plate towards him. “No bakes. My personal recipe.” Cameron returned her smile and broke one in half. He could smell the hint of vanilla and dried cherries. They were as delicious as they smelled.

“About the other night…” he began.

“Mhm?”

“What did you mean? About my mother’s taste in men, I mean.” She made herself a plate and sat next to him. It was clear that she was thinking her words very carefully. He doubted she’d be blunt this time around.

“My son – your father – was the first man your mother had dated that wasn’t plagued by any sort of addiction. I remember him coming to me after their first date and telling me that she was the one. Your father was picky when it came to women, so you can imagine my excitement.” She finished her last cookie and wiped the chocolate from her lips. “And she was lovely, your mother. I struggled to believe someone like her had been through as many tumultuous relationships when she was so sweet. To be honest, I felt a sense of relief when they became serious. She was happy, truly happy. He was happy too, and I knew that Aaron would never let anything bad happen to her.” She pulled at her sweater, but left her hand over her heart. “As a mother, it was just a relief.”

That was the first time Cameron had felt any sort of connection to his grandmother. She was honest with him in a way that his mother never could be. He felt like his mother rejected emotional intimacy, and now his grandmother was here doing just the opposite.

“But then…the complication?” He asked.

She nodded. “I was wreck after hearing the news. As a mother, to loose a child creates an unbearable pain that you eventually learn to live with. But I knew that I wasn’t the only woman in his life that just suffered a tremendous loss. Your mother was shattered that day and I’m not sure she ever recovered. I’m still not sure she has.”

Cameron understood the words his grandmother wasn’t outright.y saying. He’d wondered the same thing. He had no strong memories of his father, and all he had to go off of was what he saw in the photo albums. He knew however, that the men his mother had brought home must’ve been nothing like his father, because Cameron felt no similarities between them. Not all of them were bad – he rather liked Paul, the local car salesman his mother had dated briefly. His secrets ultimately became too much for their relationship to handle and one day, Paul’s name was never brought up again.

Cameron rubbed his fingers over the granite countertop, taking in the simplicity and softness of his grandmother’s kitchen. He was suddenly struck with the realization that he’d never step foot in his own kitchen again. He’d never step foot in his own bedroom again, never see his favorite signed football jersey framed above his bed again.

His grandmother’s hand brought him from his thoughts. “You must be very angry.” She said.

He hadn’t felt any anger today. In fact, he’d felt peace. But the thought that he would return to somewhere unknown in a few days, with Bradley possibly still in the picture put knots in his stomach.

Suddenly, the weight of it hit him. “She chose him.” He spat out. “She chose him over her own son!” Cameron’s grandmother watched, and listened as he spewed out all of his frustrations. He’d hated Bradley for so long and for someone to finally listen to him felt like he was being validated for the first time in years.

In the midst of his complaining, she stopped him with a simple question. “Can you forgive her?”

Could he? He felt torn in half. He loved who his mother used to be. This version of her – the kind that didn’t listen to his concerns or validate his feelings was foreign to him. On more than one occasion, Jaryn had voiced her concerns about his own behaviors to him. You hardly talk about your mother anymore, she’d said.

Cameron shrugged. Forgiving her seemed like it would be a lot of work.

Giving his back a gentle rub, his grandmother cleared away their plates. “Think about it.” With that, she went outside to the back patio where she spent the rest of her afternoon.

That night, Cameron tossed and turned, unable to get any sleep. He spent the better part of the night downstairs in front of the television, too lost in his own thoughts to notice what was playing. He’d debated on calling his mother, to ask if Bradley would somehow manage to worm his way back into her heart, back into their family. Each time he pulled up her number, his finger froze and he decided not to. He knew from past experience what the answer would be, and he wanted to pretend that it might be different this time for just a bit longer.

He was woken up to his grandmother looking over him. He’d fallen asleep on the couch, the television turned off. She smiled warmly at him and handed him the mug in her hands. The scent warmed him and he took a generous swallow, ignoring how hot the coffee was.

“I put some powdered espresso in there, because I need your help running some errands today.”

They began their day at the local library, where his grandmother dropped off another box of used books to their donation pile. Cameron was introduced to the other women, and each one must have known his father because they all complimented him on their resemblance. That was followed by the craft store “I got a twenty-five percent off coupon in the mail, and that never happens!” before finally finishing up at the grocery store.

When they returned home and put away all of the groceries, Cameron was exhausted, but he felt fulfilled. Grabbing a napkin and the last no-bakes from the Tupperware container on the counter, he made his way to the living room.

“I’ve given what you said more thought,” he began. “About if I could forgive my mother.” His grandmother set down her needles in her lap and waited for him to continue. “I think I’m finally ready.” He was still fearful, but ready to face the fear head-on.

“I had to learn to forgive her many years ago too.”

Cameron raised his eyebrows.

She laughed. “Oh yes, she tried my patience too. After Aaron passed, I realized that she wasn’t my daughter-in-law anymore, and that she was free to make her own choices, but…” she shuddered, “her choices were just so…bad.”

“What did you do?”

“I had to separate myself from her until she came to her senses.”

“But she hasn’t yet.”

“And I’m still separating myself from her.” This puzzled Cameron. If that was true, why had she leapt at the opportunity to help them? It’s not like either of them had been in his grandmother’s life in the last decade. As if she could read his mind, she nodded.

“I wanted to know you, Cameron. Call me selfish, but I wanted to know how much you were like Aaron.” She stared down at the floor. “I did want to help too,” she quickly added.

“I’m grateful that you did help us and that I’ve gotten to know you.” Throughout the week, his grandmother had taught him how to make homemade compost with garden vegetables, how to fix a leaky faucet and how to make the best lasagna he’d ever eaten. But more than that, she’d taught him how to forgive those who are simply trying their best. His mother was trying her best. Cameron hadn’t thought about the struggle that she faced when his father died, and the hole that created inside of her. She was looking for something that might resemble the love she had for his father. Unfortunately, old patterns had stepped back in, placing her back into a vicious cycle.

On Saturday morning, Cameron and his grandmother split her world-famous omelet. While he finished loading the dishwasher, he heard the expected knock at the front door. Wiping his hands on the dish towel, he rushed to the front door where his mother stood.

She looked exhausted, but she gave him a weak smile. “Hi baby,” she murmured. Taking her in his arms, Cameron felt his mother stiffen at the unexpected gesture but immediately relaxed into his embrace. “Hi mom,” he whispered.

Together, the three of them sat around the television, where his mother showed Cameron and his grandmother the website containing pictures of their new residence. She’d worked enough overtime at the firm to afford a deposit on the complex’s newest apartment. It would never compare to his childhood home, but it was beautiful. It had white countertops, plush carpet throughout and both bedrooms had a view of the golf course. The photos off of the website, showed everything in the summer, but his mother had driven to the complex herself and taken photos. The golf course laden with snow reminded Cameron of the view he had here at his grandmother’s.

As his mother put her phone away, Cameron’s grandmother gave him a knowing look. Nodding, he swallowed. “Um, mom? Is Bradley…is he coming back into the picture?” His mother went silent, and without realizing it, Cameron held his breath. Finally, she shook her head. “No, Bradley’s…out of the picture.”

A wave of relief washed over him as he let out all of the air he’d been holding in. While his mother stepped out of the room to answer a call regarding the apartment complex, Cameron eyed his grandmother. She had the same smile on her face. A smile of relief.

Sitting back down, his mother cleared her throat. “Cameron. Evelyn. There’s something I’d like to share.” Once more, his grandmother’s needles stopped clicking. “I want to apologize. I owe an apology to both of you. Evelyn, this past week, it’s made me realize just how far I’ve…fallen. I’ve never recovered since Aaron and yet you’ve still never wavered in your love for me.” She blinked back tears, trying hard to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’m just so grateful…” Cameron’s grandmother set her needles aside and rose to hug her. Cameron watched his mother bury her head in his grandmother’s neck, her eyes squeezed shut.

Crouching down in front of Cameron, his mother grabbed his hands. “Honey, I owe you the biggest apology of all. You kept trying to tell me over and over about Bradley and I just…” She shook her head. Clearly, she’d been beating herself up all week. Cameron grabbed his mother’s shaky hands. “Mom, I love you. And I forgive you.”

The following weeks proved to be a smooth transition. The rent ate up most of his mother’s paycheck, so his grandmother banded her friends together and gifted Cameron and his mother with all of the essentials they’d need.

On a particularly sunny December afternoon, Cameron was awoken to a knock at the door. His grandmother stood on the other side, a large paper bag in her hands.

“May I?” She asked.

He moved aside and he watched as she set the bag down on the carpet before grabbing her cane. “Oh my, why this is just exquisite!” His grandmother had been busy volunteering and hadn’t been able to make a trip out to see their new home yet. As she explored each cupboard to inspect his mother’s organizational skills, Cameron eyed the paper bag that sat beside the door.

“What’s in the bag?”

“That’s for you,” she called out over her shoulder. Without wasting a moment, Cameron dug into the bag, removed the gift wrap and froze. “Is this…?” Whipping around, he set the frame down. “Grandma, where did this come from?”

She smiled, a coy smirk on her face. “Your father also happened to be a football lover too. I’d been saving it just in case the love of football was hereditary.”

Cameron stared at the signed football jersey. Wiping his cheeks, he wrapped her in his arms. “Thank you.”

After his mother landed on solid financial footing, Cameron encouraged her to seek therapy for how to grieve the death of a spouse. She’d resisted at first, but with some gentle coaxing, she eventually realized that she needed to face her biggest battle head on. She made remarkable progress and for the first time, Cameron got the sense that finally he would get his mother back.

And he was right.

This morning started out like any other I got up for school, I took a shower, I then threw on a pair of black joggers with class of 2022 on the side, a white hoodie with class of 2022 going across the chest,color guard going down the sleeves,and captain on the back, I then threw on some Nike socks and my Nike air shoes and headed for the door even tho it’s only 7:15 in the morning I like heading to school early because being the target of the school for not only being gay but also being captain of a female dominated sport is quite the terrible mixture

I arrive at school around 7:25 I shut my car off and gather my things then head straight for my locker thankfully there weren’t many students here most of them were teachers I reach my locker and put in the combination and just as I had it open I was shoved very forcefully might I add against my locker shutting and locking it once again I turn around an come face to face With the most arrogant and rude person in the school carter Keith he’s literally on every sport and is captain of both the baseball and basket ball teams plus he’s star quarterback of the football team.

Without anything said and no warnings given I’m drawn from my thoughts by a punch to the face I fall to the floor wending in pain I then start to feel a throbbing pain in my abdomen area and I notice he’s started to kick me in the ribs I’ve probably gotten at least one fractured probably even a broken rib but at this point I’m used to the beating they happen almost everyday I thought I had arrived early enough to miss him but I guess not eventually he grew tired of beating and then just walked away as if nothing happened I finally after what felt like eternity got the strength to get up and open my locker successfully this time might I add and gather my things by this time there’s more students in the hall I look down at my phone and see it already 7:45 and I then rush to home room trying to miss any other bullies of this god forsaken school.

Once reaching home room I turn in the assignment we were given for homework even tho I finished it yesterday during class were not supposed to turn it in until the day it’s due because our teacher isn’t the best at keeping up with things that are turned in early any way my home room is mrs. Brown she teaches advanced senior math which means I’m taking pre-cal this year and so far I’m doing good we’ve had a unit test already and it’s only the second week of school and I passed with a 99

I then look to see if she’s assigned us any more work and she hasn’t which means as usual today is a free day as she plans out this weeks assignments and tomorrow we’ll be doing a double assignment to make up for today and that’s just gonna be loads of fun anyway I take my seat then pull out my air pod pro’s and start listening to Alexander Stewart the songs title is shy and it’s literally amazing homeroom and first period fly by fairly quickly next I have 2nd period which is band so that means I’ll be practicing my halftime routine as well as my solo for this coming Friday’s pep rally.

Second and third period fly by as well and thankfully I haven’t had any run ins with carter and his group of popular people it’s finally break and I’m starving so I head to the break stand and buy myself 2 bottles of core water and 2 bags of hot Cheetos and yes they are amazing don’t judge after break I have 2 periods until lunch before break actually ends tho I head to my locker to put up my first three period books and gather my 4&5th period books which is English and history walking to my English class I have a turn in luck because I was looking down at my phone trying to see what song I wanted to play next and then I bump into something hard like a brick wall and when I look up all life fades out of my body.

My cap flew off my head. I spun around and saw three bullies holding my hat escaping. I rolled my eyes. “Can humanity have any dignity for once!?”. I glared and sat on a bus bench closest to me. On this bench sat an old man; he had to be older than 60. He seemed to be staring out into nothing. If he wasn’t breathing I would have assumed he was dead. He chuckled “What’s so funny old man?” I stared, today was not the day to be laughed at, especially by a man older than the Mona Lisa itself. I sat down and grabbed my phone out and scrolled on Tik Tok. There was no point in getting my hat back, plus I couldn’t miss the bus. I looked back at the old man who seemed to be staring at the house across the street. With nothing better to do I asked “what brings you here” in my most polite voice. He stared back at me surprised. “Im coming back from visiting an old friend”. I pulled out my phone, still an hour until the bus comes. “Why did those kids steal your hat?” I looked at him, offended. I mumbled “it doesn’t matter.” He chuckled again. “You know I was once like you” I looked at him “How?”. “You can’t let them get to you”. Why was this man I have never met giving me a pep talk? “Just be kind little one”, with that he got up and left, leaving me with a smile. I was dumbfounded. He left behind a coin, gold and shiny; “kindness” wad printed in capital letters. I picked it up, “wait you left your..” He was gone. I smiled, placed the coin in my pocket, and went home.

Many years later, the same bench but different, tired with age. How old was I? “Chuckles” old. Many Years past since I met the old man, he had probably moved on, although I stay here. I stare at nothing and am startled when I hear an angry voice “Are you kidding me!?” It was coming from a girl. Probably my age when I last sat here. I fumbled with the same coin in my pocket, smiling, knowing exactly what to do.

Book one: The “Misbleief” begins

This series is about how two Kitsunes make a secret plan together without anyone knowing about it. Will anyone find out?

Truth: Carnation and Flamesun makes a plan together only to be together Lie/Misbelief: Carnation is found by Adriel and Serafina but she thinks that they stole her from her parents

ACT ONE

Chapter one: The first Mysterious disappearance

    Flash back moment: Long time ago, there was a handsome young kitsune” called Flamesun. He was best friends with two girls called Carnation and Catchfly. Flamesun was in love with Carnation but her mother didn’t approve of him, so he went away and never came back. 
    One day though, Carnation somehow found the place he was and was happy to see him again. “I can’t believe that you found me, Carnation “ Flamesun said as he hugged Carnation. “I don’t know why my mother doesn’t like you but my father does “ Carnation told Flamesun.”I’m not sure either but I might have a -loan if you’re willing to go along with it” Flamesun said. “What is it?” Carnation asked. “Well…how about if I put a misblief spell on you after I make you disappear and thank your parents friends stole you?” Flamesun suggested. “Ohh. I actually like that plan and don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone not even my mother about it” Carnation promised. “Good. You should head back to your village for I know how your mother is” Flamesun told Carnation. “Okay. I’ll act as if I got lost walking around” Carnation said as she walked out of the secret place. “You should have a mysterious name for this place, Flamesun “ Carnation called back. “How about Dark Wood Grove?” Flamesun called back. “Awesome name”Carnation replied. 

 “Adriel, it’s Carnation!” Serafina called to her husband as she saw Carnation walking around in front of the house, as if she was lost. Adriel looked out the window and also saw Carnation. “It looks like she’s lost. Let me go out and see what’s wrong” Adriel said as he opened the door and walked outside to where Carnation was. 
   “Carnation, are you okay?” Adriel asked when he caught up to her. “Who are you?” Carnation asked when she looked at Adriel in confusion. “It’s Adriel, your father’s best friend and that’s my wife, Serafina. We met when you were just a little girl” Adriel replied. Carnation looked over at the house and saw  Serafina waving at her.  “NO. ITS NOT TRUE. YOU GUYS STOLE ME FROM MY PARENTS!” yelled Carnation as she ran off. 

  “That was a very good act you put on there, Carnation “ Flameshadow said as he came walking out of the Dark forest to greet his love. “Thank you so much, Flameshadow” Carnation replied. “Now, go back and act like you were just scared and afraid and need protection and tell them to call you Charlotte “ Flameshadow told Carnation. “Yes of course” Carnation replied as she walked away from him and went back to Adriel and Serafina. 

“I’m sorry about that. I was just very scared and afraid, that’s why I ran off and blamed you for stealing me. I just need your protection, if you’re willing to do it?” Carnation said as she walked back to where Adriel was still standing. “That’s okay. I know your name is Carnation, but is there another name you want to go by?” Adriel asked as he walked up to the house with Carnation. “I’ve always liked the name Charlotte” Carnation answered. “Okay, Charlotte is your new name” Adriel agreed as they walked into the house together. 
  “Welcome, Charlotte to our world. This house is actually an art academy. Your bedroom is just right across from the Ballet studio, if you want to go see it” Serafina said as she welcomed Carna…Charlotte into her home. “Thank you so much for letting me in and staying here” Charlotte said as she looked around before she walked over to where her bedroom was. 
    Once she was inside her bedroom’s. Charlotte got her star ball out and contacted Flameshadow. “Good , they took your misbelief… I mean lie. And I know that you don’t like lying but our plan is working. Get some rest tonight Carnation… I mean Charlotte, and then tomorrow you start blaming them for stealing you away from your parents” Flameshadow told her. 

The next day….

 “Good morning, Charlotte , how did you sleep last night?’ Serafina asked as Charlotte walked into the kitchen to have breakfast.

Emily has tried everything, but after enduring years of emotional abuse from her ex, she has slowly started to worry that her son Aaron will become the man his father is. She thought she raised him so well, reading books to him nightly, taking him to church, teaching him how to cook and encouraging him to be friends with everyone he meets. Regardless, her son Aaron has shown consistent signs narcissism and callousness. Emily sees the light leave his eyes more and more every day. Big pools of green that used to shine with curiosity and warmth now have a shadow casted over them. They seem more hazel now, or were they always? She’s beginning to feel like she can no longer recognize Aaron in them, but rather she sees the same deep hollowness that overtook the man she once thought was the love of her life. Jim has been worried about her for some time. Sitting on his porch enjoying his morning coffee, he sees Emily and Aaron get in the car to go to school. Emily is wearing a beautiful blue blouse, her hair is pulled loosely back, and she has simple jewelry to pull together the look. He notes the darkness that’s growing deeper under her eyes, aging the woman smiles and waves each morning. Her son never bothers to look up anymore, always consumed with whatever is angering him. Generally, it’s the fact that they’re running late. That boy can be pretty hard on the woman that’s working overtime to make ends meet. Then again, he’s probably just used to seeing her be treated that way- cold, unforgiving, always needing but never giving. Just when Jim thought Emily finally got rid of that ass hole she was with, now she’s raising one. It’s hard to believe. As they get in the car and drive off, Jim hears Emily apologizing to Aaron for oversleeping and he thinks back to 10 years earlier. Emily has been living next door since she was a teenager. When her parents moved, she bought the house from them. She was always smiling, dancing, and laughing. Jim and his wife loved her dearly. In fact, she was there when his Iris got sick. Emily would cook extra for dinner and bring it over, claiming she never knew how to cook for only three. Jim knew that wasn’t true, her and that man lived alone since they were just kids. Either way, he appreciated her greatly. Iris always did all of the cooking, and when she got sick he quickly realized he couldn’t whip up a boiling pot of water without burning the hot pads next to the stove. Aaron used to come over with her to bring the food. Sometimes they’d try their hand at baking, too. Iris always loved their peanut butter cookies, said they tasted like her mother’s. What happened to that boy? How can you have a mother that carries so much love and end up so hateful? The sound of tires screeching pulls Jim from his trance of memories. The cool morning fog and peaceful birds chirping fade to the background as Emily rushes Aaron out of the car. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be home as soon as I can!” She yells as she quickly pulls off. Aaron looks pissed. He scuffles to the front door and slumps his shoulders in a rage. “Fuck!” He yells, “she has the damn keys!” Jim watches, confused, as Aaron goes around the house to try to find an unlocked window. Eventually, he comes back to the front steps and sits, defeated. The birds have begun to chirp again. “You alright son?” Jim asks. “Yeah, yeah, sorry Jim I didn’t notice you there.” His tone changed, Jim noted. There’s still some respect left in him, just not for his mother. “What happened?” Aaron gets up and walks over with his hands in his front pockets. “Oh, my mom got a call about my grandpa and decided not to take me to school. She’s going to pick him up and bring him back, but there’s no room for the wheelchair and me so she thought it’d be quicker to drop me off. Of course, the day I don’t grab my set of keys. How have you been?” Funny, Jim has sat out here every morning and afternoon but this is the first time Aaron has talked to him in years.

Oops it’s 10:30 in the morning I overslept again n missed school. It’s time for me to replace my stupid alarm clock. Boy looks at his phone thinks of calling his friend but figures he’s at school. Guy looks at the window see’s his neighbor reading newspaper sitting in the balcony. Boy to keep himself entertained and annoy the neighbor turns on the tv and plays loud music. Neighbor couldn’t take it anymore after 15 mins and goes inside. After noticing neighbor ‘s gone. Boy comes home looking for him. He asks neighbor did I ruin your peaceful time. Neighbor explains no one can ruin my peace except me. I just got inside to have my orange juice. Boy wonders and asks him how did you manage to achieve that. Neighbor explains I found my spiritual journey after being like you for the first 30 years of my life. Then one day I stopped enjoying myself and feeling lost inside. I came across some books and started reading more about being mindfulness which helped me achieve peace within me. You will get there at some point in your life. Just wait for it.