Marilyn Monroe said diamonds were a girl's best friend she really wasn't lying. She just forgot to mention that anxiety and second-doubt seemed to be sidekicks.

"So, I heard from Stephen that Charlie finally ran away like he said he would since freshmen year," Richard laughed from the other line, Sigrid doltishly spun the ring on her finger. "I didn't think he had the courage to, I'm just hoping he didn't actually make it to Indonesia."

"He's here," she responded, completely leaving her lips in an exhausted sigh. Richard's eyebrows furrowed as he scooted closer to his desk and pulled the telephone closer.

"What?" His nose scrunched as he exaggerated the phrase. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"In Massachusetts, I mean. He's here," she looked around her room before standing up to grab a book from a nearby bookshelf. She hadn't noticed which one she had taken out but she assumed it was a R-name because of the alphabetical order. "I want to tell you so I could understand how you feel...I don't feel right lying to you."

"Thank you," he mumbled, she sat back down on her bed and opened her book. "Has he spoken to you? You know, like asked you to walk around town with him?"

"Yes."

"Have you said yes?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

She grabbed a bookmark to set beside herself, freezing as he asked the hardest question to answer. "Well, I can't just say no, Richard. I know why he's in town, I have to give him what he wants or he won't leave. How would you feel being followed around like they're some lost puppy. He wanted to talk...so we talked."

"Alright," he sniffled, the chilly weather conquering the battle of seasonal flu. "Can I ask what about?"

"Sure," she flipped a few more pages to get to the first official page. "School, moving, his family, the normal things," she winced inwardly at the easily uttered lie. Hypocrisy wasn't a new color on her and it made her want to find another palette, "I'm kind of worried though, I have a feeling Theresa is right behind his footsteps and she'll find him soon. He's not a really good hider, out and about in town. He actually set a tour to Boston College. He says its nothing special but since he hates New Jersey too much to go to Princeton he'll have to put himself through school here."

"With what money."

"Trust fund. You forget he's stinking rich. Ugh, sometimes I hate that about him."

"Technically you're a trust fund baby too," Richard snorted. "But anyways, she won't. She actually came around the house last week-

"What?" She almost exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"I didn't think I needed to. My mom kicked her out, Theresa didn't say a word after. In fact, she looked quite satisfied by their resolution. Theresa's in the past, Charlie too, now we need to focus on other things. We need to focus on us and school. I have a few more months, college is right around the corner. We need to have our eyes set on a prize, no more drama. Nothing holding us back. Just us and our futures, alright? I didn't want you to worry."

"College, that's right...how has that been going?" she quickly changed the topic, "I have another year but I've been thinking Boston College too. I need to be ambitious for something. Feel it in my hands, I crave something to live for. Boston College," she smiled into her telephone, "Or Yale. Yale sounds like a campus god's walk on."

"It sure does. Gerard used to talk my ear off about it," He blinked a few times thinking of what to say, the silence was both comfortable and lacking halcyon. "I actually applied to Yale with him, he was so nervous he forgot his name and it kind of got the weight of applying by himself off his shoulders. When you need to start applying I could help you, I'd love to help and I could easily get the letters of recommendations. Teachers love me."

"That much I know," she laughed, "Kiss ass."

"Excuse me?" He grinned in response before letting out a gasp that made her cover her mouth from another laugh.

"You heard me," she smile widened. He let out a teasing hum. Sigrid ended up closing the book in front of her and throwing it off to a side, leaning back on her bed. "Richie, I miss you."

"I miss you more," he let out without hesitation. "I feel so helpless. I want to just run out and take you with me somewhere no one could find us. I've been romanticizing New York."

"Richie, have you ever been there before?"

"No."

"Well, you don't want to move to New York. You're in love with the thought of it but you've never been there before. Whatever you have in your head about New York is just the light you decided to put it in. Once you get there, you realize it's not as amazing as the magazines say. Trust me, I was devastated when I finally got that trip. Think somewhere similar to where you've been before so it doesn't disappoint you."

"California? I've been there with Gerard over the summer. It's not the best place in the world but it's far enough."

"Far is good."

Far is good.

It never seemed to get cold enough for comfort. The sun wouldn't come out, but snow wouldn't fall. The clouds would never clear, but it would never rain. It was always gray and gloomy, just the way she hated it.

She scratched Bucky's head with a small smile, the dog closed its eyes hesitantly, knowing she'd sneak away the moment he closed his eyes. And as predicted, she tiptoed to the door and closed it so quietly a mouse would've been stunned. Bucky, unimpressed, turned himself on his back and yawned. The blanket twisting as he did so, making somewhat of a rhythm with Pepsi running in her hamster wheel.

Theresa Abernathy walked in the poorly dimmed hallway, bruised knees shaking as it was the only cold area in the house. She forked her hands in her pockets, pursed her lips, and stopped once she heard unfamiliar voice coming from inside the kitchen. Her mothers shadow piqued interested, doubled over the oven. She fetched something delicious, something she'd never had before. Her mouth salivated.

"I'm sure you remember Paul, Dede," her father called from his place on the couch. "He's a good friend of mine from Vermont. I found him outside the farmers market, me was dropping off some of our product and he'd chosen our mandarines. Good selection he's got, but I don't understand why he's so far out picking groceries."

"Well I think it's really nice he's helping out his w-

"Oh, don't nobody care what you think Dede. Finish those cookies, Paul must be starving. And hungry company ain't good for any of us."

Dede listened, her shadow moving frantically in the hallway like a ghost. Stretching to meet the back wall, Theresa felt her distress.

She could only frown.

She peered into the living room, the back of the man's head came into view. His hair slicked back, his hair reflected the grayness of the clouds. "Tobias, rudeness isn't good for company. Your wife is doing amazingly. I hope your daughters have taken her influence."

"Odette's gone off," Tobias Abernathy laughed without humor, "She met a city boy and thought her family's approval wasn't of importance anymore. She's been gone a year or two, has a kid actually. Spring's taking care of the farm, it's not a woman's job but she's always had a particular adoration for the animals. She doesn't look like she's getting married any time soon."

Theresa stifled.

"Ilse, exactly like her mother I'd say. Our only problem right now is Theresa."

She glared at the back of the bald man's head.

Paul raised an eyebrow, "You've never mentioned her before. Is she of Deidre's?"

"Surely, they all are. I'm just not sure she's mine, if you know what I mean. She hasn't got a light out there in the world for her. I'm sure she'll never get out of here, and if she does it's for the best."

Paul turned, thinking he had heard a noise from the hallway. Tobias craned his neck in the general direction, Theresa held her breath. The two men sighed. "Well, sometimes all we need is direction."

"Left or right? She walks new roads. I haven't got a clue what to do with her."

"Get her to marry."

"She's fourteen. And she still hasn't flourished into a decent-looking woman. She wouldn't be a respectable wife, let alone a good one."

"Can she cook?"

"Well, of course."

"Can she make her keep? Help you around the farm?"

Tobias nodded.

"I've got a son, Colson Charles, he wouldn't be able to find a right direction in life without a wife. He's educated, he'll be going to Yale in August. He's a good driver, he's got a promising career choice, and obedient. I think they would be good assets to each other."

Theresa stumbled on a piece of lifted carpet, Deidre gasped, dropping a pan in the process. Tobias went bright red, humiliated. Paul turned to the clatter, eyes meeting with Theresa for the first time. She scurried to her feet, patting down her dress and shyly walking to his seat to shake his hand. She didn't have another choice than to introduce himself. The old man's eyes brightened, looking over the gauntly female. He smiled.

She moved her hand away as his grip got tighter.

And she dismissed herself to help her mother. Paul turned to Tobias, smile widening. Tobias returned it, craning his neck to his daughter.

awkwardly scooped up some macaroni and cheese as he looked at the rest of the food at the Thanksgiving table. Maeve walked next to him, whispering every once in a while who had made the food and filling her plate. Neil looked at the dish Todd has brought to the Perry dinner. They had made the sitting so that they could sit right across from each other but the rest of the family was unaware, and so they ended up sitting at completely different sides.

Mr. Perry looked at the significantly smaller Maeve Ackermann and her introverted-ness. Neil looked down at Maeve once they'd reached the end of the table and smiled at her, holding his hand out for him to grab. Both of their hands were sweating, they had so much pretending to do for the night. Maeve set her plate down and grabbed Neil's plate to set next to hers. Neil thanked her quickly and tucked out her chair for her to sit. Todd looked at the actors before turning to Layla and asked her if she wanted him to fill her plate.

Layla glared at her plate and silently shook her head, she was feeling a particular green color she never had felt before. Maeve grabbed her utensils and opened the napkin. Neil moved her hands away, "We usually pray before of dinner, Maeve. You don't have to if you want to, just close your eyes. That's what I usually do."

"What if your dad asks you to say grace?" Maeve mumbled. Neil shrugged, "Look at the expression on that man's face. He's enjoying himself too much to not say it himself."

It was true, for once Tom Perry was smiling.

She looked at Mr. Perry hesitantly, "Alright."

Mr. Perry clinked his glass once everyone had filled their plate. They all turned to him like seagulls, Neil's younger cousins hiding the fact that they had sneaked a view bites. "Another year, another amazing Thanksgiving with my family," Mr. Perry looked around before looking directly at Maeve with a grin, "And company. How splendid. It took Neilly long enough to bring someone home."

Todd's eyebrow twitched before he followed everyone else's impulse to laugh. Though the laugh didn't meet his humor, the sarcasm was hidden under the rest of the rumbling voices. It slowly got quiet again and he peeled his eyes away, "Nonna made it here with us tonight, we're really glad to have her here. Kurt and Gladys. Goldie and Eden. Todd and Miss Cordova," he smiled at Todd. Todd felt everyone's eyes on him, it being his first time meeting his family and having to show up with another date was not in his favor.

"I just want to keep it short and sweet, I could see everyone slowly moving their forks to their plate. We'll pray tonight for our food, our company, and another year of life. Whatever you're grateful for, take a minute or two to say in your seat. May we all be blessed and healthy. Amen."

ate in silence.

Theresa looked over every once in a while at Colson, they'd meet each other's gaze and look away like eye contact was taboo. Eventually, he smiled and set his fork down, "I think it's expected for us to talk."

She'd never heard his voice, it made her flinch in her seat. Her eyes widened slightly before normalizing, her fork gathered some stew. She didn't respond, it caused him to quirk an eyebrow, "You're an Abernathy, correct?"

Nod.

"My father's told me loads about you. He speaks really highly of you."

"Who am I?" she challenged, she'd never given a name so there was no logically reason for him knowing who she was.

"Ilse of course! My father says-

"I'm Theresa."

The smile on Colson's face falters. She laughed shortly at his expression before going back to eating. "I'm confused. You're Theresa?"

"Don't wear it out," she mumbled. "I see you were expecting my sister," he nodded, she laughed again. "Well I was expecting to live under my parents roof until I was off to college but it seems we can't always have what we please."

"I'm Colson."

"I know."

His lips pursed as he became more conflicted. He took a sip of his apple cider and turned his neck in the direction of the clock. "My father says you could leave whenever you please. I haven't got much of a conversation anyways and the food will get cold. We know you have a long way back home."

"I don't mind," he looked away from the clock. "Tell me about yourself, Theresa. My father never mentioned you."

She scoffed in disbelief, "Of course. He makes you drive all this way under the notation of my sister and you're met by a clueless, fourteen-year old, idiotic girl. This is going horribly. How old are you again?"

"Seventeen."

"Oh please, this is illegal," she stood up and got her plates. "I truly do apologize. I wasn't aware of this...difference. I just got out of junior high, this isn't right. I'll contact my sister if you please, your father gave you the wrong information. Oh lord," he stood up behind her as she walked into the kitchen "oh lord, do you need money for gasoline? Or...something to-go? I'll do it, I'm so sorry!"

She grabbed the dish sponge and wet it before pumping dish soap on it and washing the plates. She worked frantically, he laughed humorously at her actions. "Nonsense. And please don't, Ilse sounds amazing but I think I've made up my mind."

She turned away from the dishes, doe eyes searching for answers from the athletic-looking boy. He smiled at her as he took her sponge, "How about we walk around town? I won't do anything, just let me walk around with you for a while. And at the end of the night I'll walk you back to the porch and say goodnight."

She was hesitant. "I have to wash your dishes."

"I'll wash my own dishes, Theresa."

"No...nonsense, Mr. Dalton," she hurried. "I'll do it for you. That's how my father would want it, a man should not wash his own dishes. They work and come home tired, it's the least a woman could do."

"Nonsense Theresa," Colson bumped her away playfully and got a plate with one of his hands to wash. "Women work harder and get more tired than a man sitting in his office filling out papers, the least a man could do is wash his own dishes."

"Mr. Dal-

"Colson."

"Mr.-

"Colson. My name is Colson!" he grinned at her as he rolled up his sleeves. She sighed in annoyance, she walked off to get his plates and walked back. He took the plates from her hands.

"Colson, if you wash the dishes I won't let you take me out into town."

"Fine," he smirked as he set down a bowl. "But I'll tell your father you walked out on the dinner."

She spluttered for words in disarray. She put the bowl back in his hands, he looked over with puppy eyes. "Let me take you out into town? Just for tonight. And we could pretend nothing went horribly."

"Fine."

"What?"

"Fine."

"Excuse me, I didn't quite hear what you said."

"I'll go out with you!" she screamed over the blasting water.

"OK ok," he laughed. "I thought I had heard that."

A smile slowly placed itself on her face as she watched him wash the rest of the dishes.