"So this is the activity schedule for the first week," I informed Mrs. Wilcott, handing her the manila folder.

"Sophie," she mused, opening the folder and flipping through it. "Always on top of things."

"Well summer is only two weeks away," I pointed out.

"How did your AP testing go dear?"

"Okay hopefully."

She chuckled, placing my schedule down on the table next to her. "Knowing you, it went fine. And your finals? Are those coming up soon?"

"Next week," I informed her.

"And I'm sure you're going to do great on those too," she encouraged. "Don't stress yourself too much with the camp until you complete your schoolwork."

"I won't," I promised, with a smile.

"We have a new member joining us this summer, I presume you read the email?"

I let out a groan, flopping down in the chair behind me. "I think we all did."

Mrs. Wilcott laughed. "What's the matter with the Anderson boy? He seemed nice enough."

"He's a pain. And I can't handle working with Clayton Johnson and Steven Anderson all summer."

She laughed again. "You and Clayton have known each other too long now to continue on with your incessant banter."

"He starts it!" I defended.

"Sophie Allen, I know you well enough to know that you are no angel."

I laughed again, shaking my head. "Okay, well maybe I'm not innocent. But he gets on my nerves."

"The boy's been through a lot," Mrs. Wilcott said, pursing her lips.

She used to tell me that after I'd rip on Clayton in front of her, and she'd send Clayton off to do something for her just to separate us.

I didn't understand it at the time, but now it made a lot more sense.

"I know," I agreed.

She raised her eyebrows at me.

"But he's still annoying."

She laughed, picking up my activity schedule again. "Go on and get to studying. I'll get the supplies together."

"No," I declined, standing up. "I'm here for the day. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Mrs. Wilcott gave me a look, and I just smiled.

"Well alright," she agreed, with a sigh. "If you're insistent about it, go on into the storage room and let's get started."

~*~

"I work twice as hard as him," Bryce continued to rant. "I condition on my off-days, I go to the fields on Sundays and pitch the shit out of my shoulder, I do everything I can do get ahead."

"You had brain surgery," I reminded him. "And then you were out of baseball for over three months. You can't just walk back into it. You have to work at it."

Bryce readjusted the ice pack on his shoulder, clearly frustrated with my advice, mostly because it's not what he wanted to hear.

"Preston isn't even that good," Bryce stated.

"Well then prove it on the field."

I heard the front door open, and I looked over at Bryce.

"My mom's home," he explained, glancing over his shoulder.

Regina came into the living room, placing a few grocery bags down on the counter.

"What happened to your arm?" she asked Bryce, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Just a sore shoulder," he dismissed. "I went to the store a couple of days ago."

"Your mother needs coffee to survive. And a few other essentials."

Bryce chuckled.

"How was practice?" she asked, sliding her purse off her arm and placing it down on the counter.

"You probably don't want to talk about it," I suggested, with a laugh.

"I just gave Sophie an earful," Bryce said, offering me a half-smile.

Regina leaned across the counter, taking Bryce's cheeks in her hands and placing a kiss on his cheek. "At least you get to play."

"That's not good enough."

"It never has been. You know I can't give advice dear, I'm sorry. Suck it up and rub some dirt in it."

Bryce chuckled, and she set to unpacking her groceries.

He came and took a seat next to me on the couch, pulling out his phone as he snuggled up next to me.

"Your ice pack is freezing," I informed him, as I shoved him away.

"Accept my love," he said, wrapping his arms around me.

"Bryce, I'm serious!"

A smile spread across his face.

"Bryce Harrison, don't you-"

And then he set to mercilessly tickling me.

"Bryce!" I shrieked, as I desperately tried to get away.

I hate being tickled. And it doesn't help that I'm an extremely ticklish person.

He laughed, relenting on his tickling and placing a kiss on my lips.

"I hate you," I said, with a laugh.

He bent down and kissed me again.

I laughed, sitting back up and leaning into him.

"So Bryce, while you're here," Regina said, glancing over at him.

She looked nervous.

Bryce looked up from his phone to make eye contact with her.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about?"

"What?" Bryce asked, with a hint of irritation.

"I was on the phone with..." she trailed off for a few moments. "With Lionel, your dad."

His eyes narrowed.

"And he's going to be in-town next week," she continued.

Bryce's body stiffened. "Stop," he ordered.

"And so I told him that he's welcome to stay here," Regina continued, glancing up at him.

Bryce stared at her, an ice cold glare.

"He declined at first, but after a few minutes of discussion he agreed."

Bryce ripped the ice pack off of his shoulder, storming back towards his room.

I tensed up, waiting for the sound of the door slamming, which came a few moments later.

"Well he'll be here next Monday then," Regina muttered.

We were both silent for a few moments. Dawson made his way over to me, pressing his nose into my palm for some attention.

"That was bad wasn't it?" Regina asked me.

"It didn't go too well," I agreed.

"I just thought it would be a good idea," she defended. "I know that I haven't always been around, and Lionel left. And I just wish that there was something I could do to fix this."

You could stay.

Regina leaned against the counter, bracing her forearms, and silence overtook the living room again.

I stood up, giving Dawson one good scratch before heading back towards Bryce's room.

He was lying across his bed, playing Destiny on his TV.

"Hey," I greeted, closing the door behind me.

He didn't say anything.

"You know she just wants what's best for you."

"I don't want anything to do with him," Bryce said, in a low voice.

"I know you don't," I agreed. "But think about it. You're going to be in school all week. You have baseball practice two nights. You practice practically every other night. And we can always just hang at my place or you can crash at Clayton's. You'll get through one week."

Bryce glanced over at me. "Are you taking her side?"

"There's no sides here," I declined. "I'm just trying to make this situation bearable for you. Because I love you."

"Well I don't want to make this situation bearable. This is my house. I'm here more than she is. And I don't want my dad here."

Well she does pay for it.

But I didn't say that out loud, because I wasn't looking for a fight.

"This might not be the worst thing in the world."

This time Bryce put his game on pause, turning to fully face me. "What?"

"I just mean that maybe you guys can connect a little?"

"I don't want to connect with him," Bryce said, in a slow voice. "If he wanted a relationship with me, he should've thought about that 15 years ago when he walked out."

"He made the wrong decision then," I said, trying to open Bryce's mind a little bit. "And he's trying to fix it now."

"Well it's too late now."

Why does my boyfriend have to be so stubborn all the time?

"All I'm saying is that we're going to get through this week. He gets here on Monday and I don't know when he leaves, but I'm sure it's the weekend sometime."

Bryce let out a long sigh.

"And your mom will act as a buffer I'm sure," I added.

"She leaves Thursday."

Great Regina. Schedule a little reunion for Bryce and his dad and then leave. That's a fantastic idea.

"Well you'll still have me," I pointed out, with a smile.

"Great."

That hurts.

"Sorry," Bryce apologized, almost immediately. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at this situation."

"It's just your dad. For one week," I repeated. "We saw him at the wedding."

"For a couple of days. And in intervals. He's going to be at my house."

"We don't even know what for," I pointed out. "Maybe he has business here. And then you'll be busy too. And maybe you guys won't even have to see each other."

Bryce let out a long sigh, flopping over on his back. "I hope he falls out of the airplane on the way here."

"You don't mean that," I declined.

"And lands safely on an abandoned island somewhere," Bryce amended.

I rolled my eyes, making my way over to his bed and snuggling in next to him.

"I'll still be on Chemo Monday," Bryce pointed out, his arm wrapped around me.

"Last day," I agreed, glancing up at him. "Does your dad know?"

"No," Bryce scoffed. "Maybe I can start on Wednesday."

"You have practice Thursday night. You won't be able to go."

Bryce let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. "Will you come over every night next week?"

"If you want me to."

"Even if Clayton's here?"

I chuckled. "Even if Clayton's here."

He smiled, re-opening his eyes and glancing back down at me. "It's only a week I guess."

"That's the spirit!"

~*~

"So everyone is talking about the bonfire party," Kylie informed me, with a smile.

The bonfire party happened at the end of every school year. Everyone gets together down at the beach, and we had a massive bonfire, burning the schoolwork and books from the school year before.

It took place the night after the final day of school.

"I can't wait," I confessed, with a smile.

"The first thing I burn?" Kylie asked. She pulled out her English final exam study guide. "I hate this thing."

I chuckled, pulling my Chemistry AP Exam study book out of my locker. "This is going in first for me."

"Burn baby burn."

I shoved it back into my locker, pulling out the books I needed to study tonight before heading out to the parking lot with Kylie.

"Where's Bryce?" she asked.

"He went over to Clayton's. I'm supposedly supposed to go over there tonight and hang out with them."

Kylie raised her eyebrows. "Clayton, Bryce, and Sophie all hanging out together. Who would've thought?"

"Certainly not me," I said, with a laugh.

We approached the cars, and I bid goodbye to Kylie before heading home.

My phone went off as I coasted down the street, and I reached over to see it was my mom.

"Hey," I greeted, pressing my phone to my ear.

"Hi honey, can you stop by the store on the way home and pick up some stuff? I emailed you a real quick list."

I hate going to the store. I always run into at least one person that knows my mom and wants to talk to me about my future or about my mom or just about something. And all I really wanted to do was pick up some milk.

"I guess," I said, with a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Thank you my love."

I hung up, tossing my phone in my passenger seat and taking a different way home so I could stop by Harris Teeter.

My mom's list only had four things on it, but it felt like an eternity as I made my way around the store, filling my little basket with stuff I'm sure she needed for her recipe tonight.

I made my way over to the fruit aisle. Strawberries weren't on her list, but I needed some for me.

They were my favorite.

I glanced down the fruit aisle, looking for where they'd moved the strawberries to.

And then a familiar figure caught my eye.

Clyde whatever-his-last-name-is. Clayton's biological father.

He was dressed in jeans and Nirvana t-shirt, browsing through the pineapples as though they were some sort of puzzle.

I felt my breath catch in my throat, and I'd never felt so desperate of a need to escape.

I slowly put distance between the two of us, trying to act natural as I scooped up a container of strawberries.

"Do you know anything about pineapples?" a voice asked.

I looked up to see Clyde looking at me from across the aisle, his eyebrows raised.

There wasn't a hint of recognition on his face as he stared at me, an inquisitive look on his face.

"I don't know anything about them," he continued. "Is there a difference when choosing one?"

"I don't know," I managed to choke out.

He chuckled. "There probably isn't. I'm just overthinking things. My girlfriend sent me here to pick up a few things, and I've never bought a pineapple in my life."

Girlfriend. Clayton's dad has a girlfriend.

"Thanks," he said, with a nod before turning back and swiping a random pineapple off the shelf.

I quickly exited the produce section, my head spinning.

Does Clyde's girlfriend know that he's a former convict? And that he stalks his son in his free time?

I couldn't go to Clayton's tonight. I couldn't face him with this new information, not until I knew what to do with it.

~*~

"I made my MRI appointment today," Bryce informed me.

This would be his second one since the one that reported growth.

The first one reported no more growth, which was after his first round of increased Chemo.

"Here," I said, rising up on my toes and kissing the top of Bryce's head. "For good luck."

He chuckled. "I could use it."

"Don't be nervous. The first one reported good news."

"Let's hope it sticks."

I heard the front door open.

"I thought your mom left?"

"She did," Bryce agreed, glancing over his shoulder as Clayton came in.

I hadn't faced Clayton since I saw his dad in Harris Teeter the other day.

"So the bonfire party is all anyone's talking about," Bryce said.

"I'm just going to burn my entire backpack," Clayton said, with a smirk.

"Yeah because I'm sure you don't need those in college," I said, with an eye roll.

"Not the one tainted with the memories of high school. You are aware that backpacks are sold in most stores? Even online."

And in that moment, I decided that that information I learned about Clyde was irrelevant. It's not like it affected Clayton in any way. And it would, most likely, only upset him to hear that I'd spoken to his biological dad.

So I let it go.

"Can you two go one conversation without turning it into an argument?" Bryce asked, rolling his eyes.

"So are we still on for Saturday?" Clayton asked, changing the subject.

"I'll text you if anything changes, but as long as I'm not puking my face off, I don't see why not."

"You guys are still going to workout this weekend?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"For once, I'm with you," Clayton said, with a shrug. "But if Bryce wants to, then I can't stop him. And I'm not going to let him do it alone, especially on Chemo."

"I'm standing right here," Bryce reminded him. "And I'm capable of working out on Chemo."

"You didn't even make it through a round of volleyball last time," I pointed out.

"We were outside for a long time," Bryce defended. "And I've just got to remember to stay hydrated. And if I get dizzy then we have to call it off."

"I'm not carrying you again," Clayton declined.

"You didn't carry me," Bryce scoffed. "You had the pleasure of helping me. You're welcome."

"Anderson said he's coming," Clayton said.

"Good. I could use the competition." Bryce smiled at me. "You could always join us Soph."

"It would be a cold day in Hell the day I decided to wake up at 8:00 AM for a run."

Bryce laughed, wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing me on the cheek.

"Nobody wants to see that," Clayton declined, wrinkling his nose.

"Will you still make me breakfast?" Bryce asked.

"Don't I always?"

"That's why you're my favorite girlfriend."

"I won't tell the others."

So yeah, I know this chapter is a bit of a filler. I apologize for that. But I needed it to transition into the next one. So what did you guys think about Sophie running into Clyde at the supermarket? Awkward right? And then what about her deciding to withhold the information from Clayton? Would you do the same?

So a majority of you guys, after reading about Clayton's past last chapter, were asking for a Clayton spin-off. Not gonna lie, the idea did intrigue me. But I don't know what it would be about? Clayton's life in college? Because that doesn't sound very interesting. Like throw me some ideas.

Teaser: A message is lost in translation and Bryce's dad arrives a little earlier than expected. And Sophie makes it her mission to make the two of them at least talk.