"How're you feeling?" I asked Bryce, lightly running my fingers through his hair.

"Not as shitty as usual, so I guess that's good."

I didn't even chastise him for his foul language, figuring that being sick warranted a few swear words.

"How's the tummy?"

"Preparing for a war," he muttered, leaning into me. "I'm not throwing up anymore, but my stomach feels like it's ripping itself to pieces."

I kissed his temple, jutting out my bottom lip. "I'm sorry love."

"Yeah, me too."

"Good Morning Baltimore!" Tracy Turnblad sang from the movie Hairspray, which was running on Bryce's TV for the millionth time.

"Every day's like an open door," Bryce muttered along with the TV.

He had my hand in his, absentmindedly playing with my fingers.

"Every night is a fantasy," Bryce said, glancing up at me with a smile. "Every sound's like a symphony."

"One day you're going to act this entire thing out," I informed him, as the song continued to play. "What's the point of even plugging in the movie when you know it by heart?"

"It's my favorite," he mumbled in defense.

"I know."

My phone went off as the song ended, and Bryce shot me a look.

"I like this part."

"You like every part," I said, with a laugh as I checked my phone.

It was Kylie calling me.

"What does she want?" Bryce whined.

"I don't know, I haven't answered it yet."

I disentangled myself from Bryce, sitting up straight before answering the phone. "Hey girl."

She didn't answer.

"Hello?" I questioned, pulling my phone away from my ear to check the connection.

We were connected, and I had nearly full bars.

"S-s-sophie," Kylie sobbed.

"Kylie?" I asked, my heart rate picking up in my chest. "Kyles, what's the matter?"

"L-L-landon b-broke up with m-me," Kylie sobbed.

Oh Lord.

I shot Bryce a look, and he raised his eyebrows at me in question.

"What happened?" I asked, standing up and leaning against the side of the bed.

"He said th-that he wanted to t-t-take a b-break," Kylie continued to cry.

I glanced over at Bryce, offering him an apologetic smile.

He wasn't even looking at me anymore, his eyes trained on the movie as he snuggled with Dawson.

"I'll be right there," I promised.

That caught Bryce's attention. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, his eyes searching mine.

Kylie just cried for a few moments, and I used that time to pull on my shoes, much to the dismay of Bryce.

"O-okay," Kylie finally said.

"I'm coming right over," I promised. "Keep it together hun, love you."

She hung up, and I placed my chin on the edge of Bryce's bed, kissing his nose.

"Why are you leaving?" he whined, looking at me with wide eyes.

"Because Kylie and Landon broke up."

"Like they do every other week?"

"She's still my best friend," I said, with a sigh as I stood up. "Despite her poor choices in male companionship."

"We need to find her a real man," Bryce said, with sigh. "That way everybody wins."

"Everybody as in...?"

"Me mostly. That way you don't leave me for her constant break-up calls."

I just chuckled. "I have to go."

He propped himself up on his forearms, leaning over and giving me a real kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Maybe. Don't you have baseball?"

"Oh yeah, that."

I chuckled. "Yeah, just that little thing that you do."

I gave Dawson a good scratch before leaving, listening to Bryce mumble the words along with Hairspray as I closed his bedroom door behind me.

The drive to Kylie's house was almost 20 minutes, her house ridiculously far from Bryce's.

Asher was on the front porch, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth.

"That's such a disgusting habit," I informed him, as I stepped out of my car.

"It's not a habit," he declined, holding his cigarette out in his hands. "It's an addiction."

I raised my eyebrows at him, not expecting that answer.

"So if you think it's so disgusting, don't get addicted," he deadpanned, before bringing the cigarette back to his lips, avoiding my gaze.

"What's the matter with you?"

He let out a long blow of smoke before glancing over at me again. "My baby sister is bawling her eyes out over some douchebag. Sorry I'm not waiting to greet you with a glass of lemonade or some fucking cookies."

Asher may be a jerk who can't take a hint, but he's always had a soft spot for Kylie.

"Well enjoy your addiction," I said, nodding towards his cigarette. "I'm going to go and take care of your sister." And then I headed inside.

I went back to Kylie's room, and she was curled up on her bed with a stuffed bear, Full House playing on her TV.

"Hello love," I said, lying down on her bed next to her.

She was still crying, her tears falling onto her bed and the bear wrapped in her arms.

"Want to talk about it?" I questioned.

"He's such a jerk," Kylie said, leaning into me.

"I know."

"Take a break? We've been together three weeks. What the hell do you need a break from?"

"I know."

"He must've found someone better than me," Kylie sobbed. "That's how it works, right? Someone prettier, someone smarter. Someone more worthwhile of his time."

"I kn-" I started, and then I realized what she said.

"Absolutely not," I stated, pushing her away so she could look me in the eyes. "Landon is a fuckboy, do you hear me?"

She raised her eyebrows at me, clearly taken aback by the fact that I'd actually cursed, especially the f-bomb.

But Landon deserved it.

"And you deserve better than him."

Kylie just cried harder, her grip tightening on the bear in her arms.

"Did he give you that bear?" I asked her.

She nodded, burying her face in the stomach of the bear. "Heafdsdpsadfpuiehrib," she mumbled.

I didn't understand a word that she said.

"Say that again? This time so I can hear you?"

She peeked up from the bear. "He won it for me," she repeated. "At the arcade."

"Give me the bear."

She shook her head, her eyes wet with tears.

"The bear Kylie, hand it over."

She squeezed it for a few more moments, burying her face in it, before releasing her grip, handing it over to me.

It was a simple bear, about the size of my thigh, with a hear in it's hands.

"Doesn't he still love me?" Kylie whimpered, her eyes searching mine. And then two tears fell down her cheeks. "Did he ever even love me?"

This meltdown was different.

Usually Kylie would cry for a few minutes, then she'd get angry and tear up some pictures, and then she'd get sad again, and we'd watch a sappy movie and eat a bunch of cookie dough.

But this time, Kylie was sobbing. And she couldn't stop. She wasn't moving onto her angry phase, she was just hopelessly sad. And that broke my heart.

"Kyles," I said, reaching out and pulling her close to me. "Landon doesn't deserve you."

"But I still love him," she sobbed into my shoulder, wrapping her arms around me.

"I know you do," I soothed, rubbing her back. "And it's going to take time. But we can get through this."

Kylie sobbed on my shoulder, and I stared down at the heart-holding bear, the anger building inside of me.

How dare that idiot do this to my best friend.

"I have an idea," I informed Kylie, still staring at the bear.

"Cry until I dry out on the inside and then shrivel up and die?" Kylie suggested, sniffling through her tears.

I rolled my eyes. Always with the dramatics.

"Take this bear back," I said, pushing her off of me and handing her the bear.

She stared at the bear, her eyes watery.

"That asshole broke your heart," I reminded her. "Again."

She continued to stare at the bear.

"He left you."

Her grip tightened.

"He doesn't deserve you."

She moved her grip to the heart, her eyes narrowing.

"Do it."

And then she ripped the heart off of the bear.

She stared at the separate heart and bear, heaving as she gripped the two objects.

"Feel better?" I questioned.

"You made me angry."

"You needed that."

She began to laugh, tears spilling out of her eyes. "I do feel better."

I wrapped my arms around her, giving her a tight hug. "You'll be okay without him."

"I know," she said, tears leaking out of her eyes. "But that doesn't make it hurt any less."

~*~

"We have a mission!" I announced, as I walked into Clayton's room.

Bryce was helping Clayton pack, Clayton readying to for his move to Florida.

"What kind of mission?" Bryce asked, glancing over at me.

He was seated on the floor, an open box in front of him and a pile of clothes beside him.

"You have two weeks and you're already packing your clothes?" I asked Clayton.

"I left out the ones I'll need to wear," Clayton said, gesturing towards his closet. "But my jeans and long sleeve stuff? Yeah, those can pack."

"The plan?" Bryce reminded me.

"Right," I said, plopping down on the floor next to him. "It's not so much of a plan as a mission. But we need to find someone for Kylie."

"Didn't she just break up with Landon yesterday?" Clayton asked me, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah. But they have a tendency to get back together," I informed him, handing Bryce a stack of clothes to add to the box. "So we need to find her a replacement before that happens."

"So like a rebound?" Clayton deadpanned.

"No," I declined. "Her forever."

"This isn't some Disney movie shit," Clayton declined, as his door opened.

"Clayton Johnson," Clarissa said, her hands on her hips.

Clayton let out a long sigh, casting her a look.

"A dollar?"

"You can't be serious."

"In the swear jar Clayton, a dollar."

"On my dresser."

She reached over, plucking a dollar off of his dresser. "I came in to let you boys know that I made brownies. And hello Sophie, I didn't see you come in."

"There was no one in the living room," I declined, feeling my face heat up. "And Clayton told me to walk in, and it felt weird when I did and I'm sorry-"

Clarissa laughed, cutting me off. "It's okay dear. I'm happy you're here to help these boys out, I'm afraid they're not getting much done."

"We've gotten a lot done," Bryce defended.

"Brownies are in the kitchen," Clarissa said, with a laugh. "I'll be in my room if you need anything."

She took the dollar with her, leaving Clayton's room.

"As I was saying," Clayton continued, once his door was closed, "this isn't a Disney movie. She isn't going to meet her forever by singing a duet with butterflies flying around her."

"Well she could," I shot back, glowering at him. "You don't know where or when she'll meet him. It could be now, it could be ten years from now. So don't be bitter."

"I'm not bitter."

"Could've fooled me."

"Glad I did."

"I think you guys just argue to argue," Bryce piped up, as he stood up. "I'm going to get a brownie."

"I'll go," I offered, standing up. "You stay here with him."

"I don't need anyone to stay here with me," Clayton snapped, his voice rising.

I stared at him, taken aback a bit.

"Nobody said you did," Bryce said, raising his eyebrows at him. "Don't raise your voice at my girlfriend."

Clayton stood up, storming out of his room and slamming his own bedroom door behind him.

"What was that?" I asked Bryce, feeling my heart pound in my chest.

I felt as though I'd done something horribly wrong.

"He's just a little touchy right now," Bryce informed me, reaching out and wrapping his arms around me. "I'm sorry."

"I'm fine. I was just surprised I guess."

He kissed my cheek, his hand running up and down my back. "I'll take care of him for yelling at you."

"He didn't really yell-"

"Raising his voice, whatever. It was uncalled for," Bryce said, his voice hard.

"I'm really fine."

"Okay. That doesn't mean I'm not going to kick his ass."

"Swear jar Bryce."

He laughed, loosening his grip on me to kiss me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my hips into his as he went to deepen the kiss.

I was vaguely aware that we were in Clayton's room, and he could walk in at any second, but Bryce's lips felt so good on mine.

I never wanted it to end.

"So about those brownies?" Bryce questioned, pulling away from me with a lopsided smile.

I couldn't help but laugh, giving him a good shove.

"I'll go get the brownies," I said, heading towards the door. "But you have to finish packing."

He saluted me, that goofy smile still on his face. "Ay, ay Captain."

I left Clayton's room, heading out to the kitchen.

Clarissa was in the living room, sitting criss-cross on the floor. She was plugging some wires into the back of the TV.

"Hello," I greeted.

She glanced over her shoulder, smiling at me. "Hi!" She stood up, turning the TV back around. "I got distracted."

"By what exactly?"

She gestured towards the digital camera that she'd plugged into the TV. "Old memories." She patted the couch, taking a seat. "Want to see an elementary school Bryce?"

"Of course," I said, abandoning my brownie mission.

Some things were more important, such as potentially embarrassing video footage of my boyfriend.

The TV flickered to life, a shot of Clayton standing in a dirtied baseball uniform, his cap turned backwards as he squinted at the camera.

"Clayton Simmons," Clarissa's voice said, with a laugh. "You cannot come into the house like that."

"What's wrong with this?" Clayton asked, glancing down at his clothing.

He had clay packed on his pants and legs, grass stains on his shirt. His elbows were dirtied as well, sweat dripping from the hair that wasn't covered by his hat.

"What did you do?" Clarissa asked, laughing. "Get in a fight with the diamond?"

Clayton didn't seem too amused by the question.

"Go hose off out back," Clarissa instructed.

And then Clyde came up behind Clayton, clapping him on the back. "You missed a hell of a game Claire-bear."

"I can tell," Clarissa said, with a laugh. "Out back Clayton, now."

Clayton sighed, heading out of the shot.

And then the TV cut off.

"He was so cute," Clarissa gushed, with a sigh. "Those scrawny little arms and big old eyes." She took out the tape, plugging in a different one. "But I'd like a different memory."

Probably one that didn't include Clyde.

The TV flickered back to life, and in this shot Clayton was considerably older.

He was standing in the kitchen, next to some sort of diorama.

But it was the kid standing next to him that caught my attention. With his bright blue eyes and unruly brunette hair, I could tell that was my Bryce Harrison.

"What is this?" Clarissa's voice asked, with a laugh.

"We finished it," Bryce informed her, with a smile.

His voice was higher-pitched, and I couldn't help but giggle.

"Finished what exactly?"

The camera panned down to the diorama, which looked to be some sort of old-pioneer town.

"For m-m-m-my b-b-book," Clayton stated, his eyes briefly meeting the camera before looking away again.

"The Little House On The Prairie," Bryce jumped in, barely able to contain his excitement. "Can't you tell?"

"Was this a joint project?" I asked Clarissa.

"No," Clarissa said, with a laugh. "This was Clayton's project. But it was due the next day, so Bryce helped him out, and he was clearly more excited than Clayton over the finished product."

I couldn't help but laugh, watching as Bryce and Clayton both explained the diorama to Claire.

"So did you finish your presentation as well?" Clarissa asked Clayton, in the video.

He nodded, his eyes falling to his feet.

"Well why don't you boys go on and practice it?" she suggested. "And I'll make a special diner for all your hard work."

And then the camera shut off, but not before you heard Bryce's cheering over Clarissa's promise for a special dinner.

"He was always a trip," Clarissa said, with a laugh.

"What's taking so long?" Bryce asked, coming out towards the kitchen.

But he stopped when he saw Clarissa and I sitting on the couch.

"What's-"

"Sh," Clarissa ordered, as the next video clip started up.

"Oh God," Bryce muttered, taking a seat next to me.

It was another clip of Clayton and Bryce.

Bryce was dressed as a skeleton, and Clayton was dressed as in his baseball uniform.

And they were in the midst of an argument.

"You can't wear that," Bryce was informing Clayton, his tone hostile.

"Wh-wh-wh-why n-n-not?" Clayton questioned, his tone just as hostile.

"Because it's not a costume," Bryce declined. "It's just your baseball uniform."

"I-i-it s-s-s-s-still c-c-counts," Clayton argued.

"Would you boys just turn and smile for the camera?" Clarissa called out. "Clayton honey, your uniform looks fine. And Bryce, you're just going to have to deal with the fact that Clayton is a party pooper."

"Am n-n-not!" Clayton called out, clearly put out.

Clarissa giggled from behind the camera. "Where's your sister Bryce?"

"Still getting ready," he muttered, with a sigh. "Would you tell her to hurry up?" I wanna-"

And then the door opened, and a teenage Kayla stepped out.

She was dressed as a cat, the basic costume for a teenage girl.

"Do I really have to go trick-or-treating with them?" Kayla complained towards the camera.

"For a little while," Clarissa called out. "And then you can go."

She let out a frustrated sigh, shooting Clayton and Bryce glares. "Fine, let's just get this over with."

"Love you too," Bryce said, in a sarcastic tone.

Kayla's glare softened, and she let out a small laugh. "You look ador-"

"Don't you dare say it," Bryce warned.

Kayla laughed, glancing over at Clayton. "Really? That's the most creative you could get?"

"Sh-sh-shut up."

"That's a put down!" Clarissa called out.

Kayla smirked at him. "Come on, you can give me three put ups on the walk."

Clayton just glared at her.

"Wait, would you three just stand there and actually smile on the doorstep and try to look like you're all enjoying yourselves for the camera?" Clarissa called out.

Bryce chuckled next to me.

The three of them put on their best smiles, and Clarissa let out a satisfied sigh. "Okay, have fun you guys! Be home soon."

The three of them scurried away, and the camera turned off.

"When you put the three of them together? They were constantly fighting," Clarissa informed me.

"That's not true," Bryce declined. "It was mostly Clayton and Kayla."

"You didn't help."

"I enjoyed it."

She just rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the TV.

The next clip was of Clayton, and his was his birthday.

I couldn't tell which year, but he had a cake in front of him, and everybody was singing happy birthday, so it wasn't too hard to figure at least that much out.

"Where'd everybody go?" Clayton called, before coming out into the living room.

He paused, staring at the TV for a few moments as he blew out his birthday candles.