It was the seventh night since James and I moved out. Not once had our family called to ask about us, not once did anyone come to see us. James was angry at them, and he tried to get me angry too. He said we didn't need them, and that if they were going to act that way, we were better off without them. I didn't agree.

I missed every last one of them. I missed smelling pancakes in the mornings, and sausage. I missed mom taking me shopping with her, and how we would laugh, joke, and enjoy each others company. I refused to believe that a mother's love for her child could disappear, just because the child had decided to move out. That didn't make any sense.

So it was with those thoughts that I sat at the kitchen table, staring down at the phone in my hands. James was out. After work, he'd dropped me off at home and went back out. He didn't tell me where he was going, and I didn't ask. He was a grown man, he didn't need me to bug him about where he went. He left me money for a cab if I wanted to go anywhere, but there was nowhere I wanted to go. I stayed home and worked more on my contest entry. I got nowhere; I didn't know what I wanted to make. There was a month left to enter something, and I had NO clue what I was going to make.

The sound of the city traffic roared from the street, two stories below, and I sighed. It was so different from the quiet I was used to. At the same time, I was glad I was experiencing it. It wasn't bad. It was nice, to not be surrounded by the roar of your family yelling over each other, but simple traffic.

My fingers dialed the house number, and I pressed the phone to my ear. Above the ringing, I heard my heart pounding in my chest, and forced myself not to hang up. I was family; it was fine for me to call.

Macyn picked up, her tone dull as always. "Hello?"

The sound of her voice caused a wave of emotion that made it almost impossible to speak for a minute, but I managed. "Hey, Mace, it's Chris."

"Huh. Miss Independent decides to grace us lower folk with a phone call? What do you want?"

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that. "I... I miss you guys. I needed to talk to somebody-"

"We're fine, thanks. More room without all your junk, so thanks for that."

"Why are you so angry?"

Her incredulous bark of laughter makes me wince. "Why should I tell you? You don't care, and neither does James. If he cared, he would've left you here and taken me instead. I'm the one that needed to get out of the house! You have no idea what I'm going through!"

My anger rose. "Because you won't tell me! How am I supposed to know what you're going through, Mace? I don't read minds."

I could hear her crying, her breaths hitching, and sighed. "Mace, you're my sister; I love you. I don't want to fight over this. Please, just tell me what's going on."

"I can't tell you. You wouldn't believe me. No one would." The last statement was said under her breath, but she continued before I could, her tear-clogged voice cutting across the line.

"This isn't over, Chris. I'm going to have your spot when I'm finished. James will be begging me to take your place and move in, and then you'll be sitting right. Back. Here. Where you belong. I-"

Her voice cut off as the phone was taken from her. Then dad was on the line. "Don't call here again, Christelle. I mean it."

He hung up, and I looked down at the phone, until the sound of the dial tone drowned out the sounds of traffic. I hit end, and set the phone on it's back on the table in front of me. The pain, and harshness of Macyn's voice floated through my mind, and then the cold of my dad's. I wasn't wanted there anymore. What did Macyn mean, when she was finished? What was she going to do?

I laid my head on my arms and stayed in that position, thinking back on the time I'd lived at home. I don't know how long I stayed like that, but the next thing I knew I heard keys in the doorway, and James was calling out he was home. I glanced at the time, and stared at it. Three hours had gone by since I'd called home? That couldn't have been right. But the clock read midnight.

James shuffled in, shrugging his coat off and laying it on the table. His grin faded when he saw me. I wondered what he saw in my face. He pulled out a chair after I greeted him, right next to me, and leaned in close, frown stuck on his face.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

I tried to smile, nodded. " Yeah, I'm fine. Did you have fun, wherever you went?"

He didn't respond, and I saw the hesitation in his eyes. He was wondering what I was covering up. "Tell me," he ordered.

"Really, J, it was nothing... I just decided to call home and see how everyone was-" I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I could barely get the words out of my mouth before the tears started to flow, and my throat clogged up. My hands balled on the table, and I stood, moving towards the door. James caught me before I could leave, hugging me.

"I told you not to call them, Chris," he murmured. "I knew they'd do this to you. We don't need them-"

I pushed my way out of his arms. "I DO need them!" I half yelled, half sobbed. "Never in a million years did I think moving out would mean losing my family. Mace HATES me, and dad won't let me call back. Don't try to act as if you never had a-a family. We did, but now we don't. An- and I don't know what to do anymore-"

I didn't fight the second time he hugged me, just let myself let my emotions spill out into his shirt.