"Maxine!" I cry out, tugging on the frayed edge of the plaid button-up my so-called best friend has forced me to wear. "I look like a lumberjack! All I'm missing is a damn ax!"

"Oh my God!" Max groans, sitting up crossed-legged on the bed, various articles of clothing obscuring her bed covers. "Will you please chill the fuck out! You look hot, okay? Trust me!"

"I don't know..." I whimper, catching my reflection in the mirror. "It just doesn't feel like me."

"Well, you can always just put on your Hilton uniform and wear that to the bar if you want," Max suggests, casting me a challenging glare. "Nothing says rock show like a pleated skirt and a fucking ascot. I say go for it."

"You are so not helping right now!" I glower at Max before checking the time. "Oh God, I need to leave in five minutes, what am I going to do?!"

"Kenny-" Max swings her legs over the bed, perching on the edge, head tilted to the side. "Maybe this melodramatic tantrum you're putting on right now has nothing to do with the totally fine outfit I picked out for you but with something else? Maybe a someone else? Hmm"

"Okay, number one, I am not acting metadramatic," I scoff. "Number two, what are you implying? That I'm nervous to see Ollie? Is that what you're saying? Huh? Huh?"

"Both of you need some serious help," Maxine mumbles, closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath. "Yes, Ken, that's exactly what I'm implying and honestly, I don't think you need to be so nervous, from what I can tell, the dude's into you, okay? So just chill and stop freaking out over a shirt."

"He does?" I ask, controlling my facial expressions to the best of my ability despite the fact a burst of pride is dancing through my veins. "You umm... can tell? Really?"

"The fact you can't see it is truly mind-boggling," Max states, walking towards me. "He likes you, Ken, so just go to the show and have a good time, okay?" She hands me a leather jacket. "Here, I called you an Uber, it should be here in three minutes. Let's go."

"But-"

"No buts!" Max exclaims, pushing me out of her bedroom towards the staircase. "You're going."

"Okay, okay, sheesh-" I pat my pockets. "Wait, my phone, I left it on your-"

"I'll get it! You go!" Max spins around, running back to her room as I slowly make my way down the stairs.

Usually, I can't wait until exams are finished. I always look forward to a few weeks of freedom, of days where I can relax without a cloud hovering over my head. But this semester, I wanted exams to last forever. Because now, there are no distractions. Nothing I can do or say to Oliver to delay this impending conversation. This is it. It's going to happen.

And I'm scared. I'm terrified of showing him my hand. Of telling him how I feel. Telling him what I want. What I need. What I desire.

Him.

I don't know when he went from being an annoyance to being someone I can't stop thinking about, but it happened. And if Maxine is as perceptive as she thinks she is, Oliver is in the same boat.

Oh, God.

I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans as I inhale a long breath, hoping the anxiety fluttering inside my heart will die down.

"Ken..." Max's soft voice floats into my ears and I look up to the top of the staircase.

"What?" I ask, scanning her stunned face, my gaze flitting down to my phone in her hand. "What is it?"

"I umm-" she stammers, taking slow steps down towards me. "I answered your phone because I thought it was that telemarketer again. I was going to yell at them for you but-"

"But what?" I frown. "What is it?"

"It wasn't a telemarketer," she says, chewing on her bottom lip. "It's umm... it's your mom, Ken."

"What?" I blink, gripping the railing, my knees weak as my heart rate accelerates. "What did you just say?"

"It's your mom, Kenny." Max passes me my phone, a glow of dimmed excitement in her eyes. "It's Sarah."

"I-"

Mom.

I stare at the phone, unknown number written on the caller ID. It's her. It's mom. My mom. The woman who raised me. Who played with me. Who cried with me. Who loved me. Who...who left me. She left me. She left. She left.

"Kenny," Max whispers, nudging the cellphone into my hand. "Talk to her."

"I don't know what to say to her," I breathe, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye. "What do I say?"

Max shrugs. "If you don't know what to say, maybe just listen?"

"Okay," I say, taking the phone with trembling hands. I glance up at Max who nods and places a reassuring hand on my forearm. "Okay."

"I'll be in the den," Max whispers and heads downstairs.

With a shaky breath, I unclick the mute button and sink down on the carpeted stairs. "Hel-" I clear my throat, swallowing away the ball of nervousness. "Hello?"

"Hi, honey," my mother's delicate voice pierces my heart, and I start sobbing. And I can't stop. I can't stop the buckets of tears escaping my eyes. It's impossible. Her voice is like a blanket. A soft, warm blanket. And I've been cold for so long. I've been so cold without her. "Oh, Kennedy, I am so sorry, baby. I am so sorry."

"Mom," I wail. "Where are you? Why- why did you leave me? Why did you-"

"Shh," Mom hushes, and I relax. It's instant. Like a drug. "Breathe, honey, breathe." I take a few deep breaths and try to pull myself together. "That's good, Kennedy, just keep breathing."

"Mom-" It feels odd saying that name. It's foreign to my tongue. To my vocabulary. "Tell me why you left, where you've been. Why- why did you leave, mom? Why did you leave?"

"I didn't leave you, honey," Mom says, the pain in her tone palpable. "Or I didn't mean to leave you. I- I left your father. I wanted to take you with me, I really did but-"

"Dad said you left because you didn't want to be a mom anymore," I whisper, sniffling away the residual snot. "He said you couldn't handle me."

"Your father-" She takes a small pause. "Your father is a smart man, Kennedy, one of the many reasons I fell in love with him, but he's also vindictive. It doesn't surprise me that he said that to you. That he lied to you. That he never gave you my letters."

"Letters?" I ask, sitting up. "What letters?"

"When I first left, I never anticipated leaving you behind, believe me," she says. "My plan was always to bring you to California with me but your father, he wouldn't let me. He said he'd take me to court, that he'd-" She sighs. "Anyway, I wrote to you, Kennedy. Every day. I tried to call but he'd change your numbers so often, I couldn't keep up. I couldn't contact you, baby-"

"But you could've come back," I cut her off, clenching my teeth. "You could've come and gotten me."

"I wanted to, Kennedy, I did, but I had to get away," she says, voice shaking. "I couldn't be around him anymore. I was drowning, Kenny. Every day, I felt like I couldn't breathe. Some days, I didn't want to breathe."

I swallow. "Did he hurt you? Did he-"

"Not physically," Mom admits. "But it was enough to make me want to run away, and I'm so sorry I didn't take you with me. I really am."

I sit on Maxine's stairs and listen to my mother explain how she's been in a legal battle with my father for years. How my father refused to let her contact me for years. How my father has been lying to me for years.

I knew Dad was a stubborn man. Petty. Cold. An asshole, really. But I never thought he was a liar. I believed him. I believed every word he said. I trusted him.

And he lied to me.

"I know you are probably very upset with me, Kennedy, you might even hate me, and that is okay," Mom says. "But if you're willing, I would love to see you and talk more. I'm renting a house in New Haven for the holidays...maybe you'd like to come? Stay a couple of nights? I want to hear all about your life. Every single thing." She pauses, adding in a warm tone. "What do you say? We can make gingerbread hot chocolates and watch Friends? Like we used to do?"

I close my eyes, a slight ache pulsing in my temples. I understand. I understand how she felt. Like she was being suffocated. Like she was being controlled. Like every single moment, every single day, every single choice was made for her. She was caged. Locked up. Like a prison. She needed freedom. She needed to break out of the chains. To set herself free.

I get that. I really do.

"Kennedy? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I am, I'm just-"

"Overwhelmed," my mom says, reading my mind. "I know, and I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have thrown everything on you at once, especially not so late at night, you must be tired and-"

"Oh, my God!" I gasp, checking the call time. An hour and twelve minutes. "Shit!"

"What is it? What's wrong?" Mom asks. "Kenny?"

"I was supposed to be somewhere at eight," I say, standing up, my head immediately spinning. "Oh no, I'm so late. Damn it. He's going to be pissed at me."

"Go," she says. "I'll text you my information and we can talk later, okay?"

"But-"

"It's fine, honey, go."

"Okay," I whine, flicking my nails. "I'm sorry for-"

"Kennedy, don't be sorry," she says, a hint of amusement in her tone. "And whoever this boy is, I hope he's worthy of you."

I frown. "Did I say-"

Mom spills a gentle laugh. "Go and have fun, Kenny. I'll be here waiting for you, I promise." She pauses. "I love you, honey. Be safe, okay?"

A comforting sensation fills my body. "I love you too, mom," I say then hang up before shouting at the top of my lungs, "Maxine! I need you!"

Max bolts out of the den, a slice of pizza hanging from her mouth. "So? How'd that go?"

"I'll tell you later," I say, galloping down the stairs. "You didn't happen to text Ollie and tell him I'd be late, did you?"

Max blinks. "Was I supposed to?"

"Yes! Max!" I groan. "Now he's gonna think I bailed. Can you call me another Uber? Please? I'm going to try and call him."

"Okay, okay," Maxine grumbles, pulling up the app. "Are you sure you still want to go? You can always just text him and say something came up?" She looks up at me as I dial Oliver's number. The line rings. And rings. And rings. "Are you sure you're in the mood for this, Ken?"

"He's not answering," I complain. "Damn it. It's fine, I'll text him."

"Uber will be here in two mins," Maxine says. "I'll wait outside with you." We exit her house and walk towards the gates. "Are you feeling okay? You know, after talking to your mom? How is she? Where is she?"

"In New Haven actually."

"New Haven? What?"

"Yeah, she wants to see me."

"Are you gonna go?"

"I think so," I sigh, shaking my head. "I know I should be mad at her but anger is not the emotion I feel right now." I glance at Max who's confused. "It's like...I want to be mad, I should be mad, but I'm not."

"You're not mad?" Max asks. "But she left you, Ken."

"I know but- For some reason, I'm not mad. I'm really not." I smile, staring off into the distance, hoping to see the Uber. "I feel...I feel happy."

"Happy?"

"Yeah," I say, tapping my foot impatiently. "It's like everything is finally coming together."

For once.

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YAY FOR EVERYTHING COMING TOGETHER. hehehe

THOUGHTS?

PREDICTIONS?

I'm aiming for 40 chapters in total, so we have 12ish to go! Lots of drama coming your way....