The blaring sound of my phone's ringtone blared around the room, jolting me awake. I groaned, turning over on the bed, trying to drown it out. As it began ringing again, my eyes snapped open when the ringtone registered. That wasn't an ordinary ring tone, that was Dr. Gray's ringtone. I'd set a specific tone for her number for situations like my current one.

Bolting out of my bed, I fumbled around, trying to locate my phone in the mess that was the nightstand. Once my hand made contact with the unmistakable shape of my phone, I gripped it tightly and moved it towards me, my heart thudding loudly in my chest as endless possibilities as to why she was calling flashed through my mind. Breathing in a lungful of air, I touched the answer option and brought my phone up to my ear.

"Ryder?" I tried to not get my hopes high at the sound of her voice. She didn't sound sad or like she had bad news. "Ryder he's up and he's asking for you." I felt my heart leap in my throat at her words. I sat there with the phone by my ear in stunned silence. Her words going over and over in my head. He was up. He was up. My dad was up. My dad was up! "Ryder? Did you hear me? Honey, your dad is up."

I nodded as tears gathered in my eyes, a few leaking out. Sniffling, I wiped my sleeve over my eyes. "Ye-yeah I heard you, Dr. Gray. Thank you," my voice sounded foreign to me as I whispered the last part.

"You're welcome. Are you on your way? He wants to see you." I shook my head, unable to speak.

"Ryder?" Oliver's groggy voice filled the room. Noticing me sitting on the bed, in the middle of the night, with the phone up to my ear, motionless, he pulled himself up out of his bed and walked over towards me. Placing a hand on my shoulder he shook me. "Ryder? You okay, man?" Getting only a glance from me in form of response he shook me again.

"My dad is up," I whispered and his eyes widened. Taking the phone out of my hand when Dr. Gray's voice came over the phone again, he held it up to his ear.

"Dr. Gray? This is Oliver..." The rest of his words escaped me as my mind went back to my dad. He was finally up. After a year, my dad was up. I would finally get to talk to him and have a reply. I would finally get to tell him about everything that had happened over the last year. I could tell him about everything. How I'd been elected to be the team's captain, how I'd aced my SAT, how I'd recreated every single dare he'd told me he'd done. I could tell him about acing my Spanish test. Casey. I could tell him about Casey. I could tell him about how smart she was. How beautiful. How stubborn, just like mom. I could tell him all of this, but first, I needed to get the hell out LA and back to Pennsylvania.

Bolting up of my bed, I hauled my suitcase over to my bed and threw it up on it. Zipping it open, I began walking around the room, grabbing every discarded piece of clothing that I'd thrown on the floor. Once I had every piece of clothing that I could find, I walked back to my suitcase and shoved them in, stuffing them in, making space for anything else that I found.

"Ryder, what are you doing?" Oliver asked, walking over to me, handing me back my phone. "I talked to the doc, told her you were in LA and that you'd take the next flight out. She's gonna let your dad know."

"I have to go now." I looked around the room, scanning the room for anything that wasn't packed. Spotting one of my beanies and deodorant on the chair across the room, I went to retrieve them.

"Ryder, it's three in the morning; there aren't any flights leaving right now," he tried to reason, but I wasn't listening. I couldn't stay in this hotel any longer. I needed to get to the airport. Every minute that I spent here, my dad was spending back home, awake. "Ryder!"

I snapped towards him with a glare. "Oliver, my dad has been in a coma for a year. One fucking year! He is finally up; I am not spending another minute here when I could be back home, with him!" I turned back to my suitcase and forcefully zipped it up.

"I was just going to tell you that you're still in your pajamas," he told me and I looked down at what I was wearing. I was only wearing diagonally-striped pajama pants and socks. My chest was completely bare. "Oh, and I'm coming with you."

I turned back to him and gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Ollie, but I can't let you ruin your vacation because of me."

"Ryder, we're leaving in a week, just in time for Christmas. I'm leaving with you. Plus, pop's been a lazy ass for a year, do you really think I'd miss giving him shit about it?"

He smirked.

Letting out a chocked laugh, I nodded. "Okay, fine." Oliver was the only one who knew about my past. He knew everything there was to know. I'd met Oliver when I was eight and had just moved here. For a few years, I'd been skittish around him and hadn't wanted to share much about myself. But after he and I became closer than I had initially anticipated, I'd shared with him why my dad and I had moved from Chicago and he'd still stuck around. He'd been there with me when my dad had gotten in a crash and ended up in a coma. Ever since then, Ollie and I had been inseparable.

"I can't believe he's finally up." I nodded. I couldn't believe it either. I couldn't believe that I would finally be able to speak to my dad. That I would finally be able to hear his voice again.

Five hours later, Ollie and I found ourselves on a flight back home. The entire flight, I could only think about everything I would share with my dad. I felt like there was so much to tell him. I hadn't been able to sit still or sleep, my mind was going crazy with everything. I though about what the first thing he would say would be. I thought about any after effects that the accident may have caused that would only be prominent now that he was awake. What would he remember? Would his mind forget some things? I found myself hoping that if he did forget anything, it would be the reason we left Chicago.

I knew that, that was one of the worst memories for both of us, and I also knew that my dad felt that it was somehow his fault. To put the blame on yourself for something like that, is not something I would wish on my worst enemy. My dad didn't have the fault. No one did. I just wished he knew that.

Once the airplane landed in Pennsylvania, my heart began to pound loudly in my chest and my hands began to sweat despite the freezing cold air. With each step, I was closer to my dad. I was closer to finally seeing my dad awake. I'd been waiting for this moment for a year. I'd been hoping and wishing for this moment and now that it was here, I couldn't wait to get to it.

"Ryder, you're forgetting your suitcase," Ollie reminded me as I began walking to the airport's exit. Grunting, I turned around to retrieve my suitcase.

"Thanks," I mumbled as we both rushed out into the cold morning air. The climate difference between LA and Pennsylvania was frightening. While people were dressed in shorts in LA, in Pennsylvania, no one wanted to leave their homes, it was so cold. The snow was almost five inches deep and covered most of the ground.

It took us about half an hour to get to the hospital. I hadn't even bothered asking Ollie if he wanted to go home, he knew how much I wanted to get to the hospital and there was no way that he would be the one to prolong my way there. When we reached the hospital, I found myself rushing through the familiar corridors in my dad's room's direction. I spotted Dr. Gray up ahead, right outside of his room, so I picked up my pace.

"Dr. Gray?" I heard myself say. She turned around and grinned, gesturing with her head for me to follow her into my dad's room.

As I walked into my dad's room, I felt the whole world slow down. I was finally here. I was finally going to talk to my old man and get an answer after a whole year. It didn't feel real. My mind kept telling me that it was a trick. He'd been in a coma for a year, how could he be up now? It just felt so surreal. But as I walked in and my eyes slowly traveled towards him, the words 'please, let this be real,' constantly repeating themselves in my head like a mantra, a desperate prayer, I felt myself let out a huge breath when I found him, sitting up, a huge grin on his face.

"Dad," I whispered, my eyes tearing up. His grin grew as he held his arms out. Walking over towards him, I grabbed him in a tight hug as silent tears began to slide down my cheeks. A thousand times I'd imagined the moment I got to feel my dad's arms around me. None of them could compare to the real thing. "I've missed you so much."

"I can't believe you let me sit around for a whole year, kid," he mumbled with a chuckle and I felt myself shake with laughter. Those were the exact words I'd imagined him saying.

"Well you were always going on about how much you needed a vacation," I replied, pulling away. He laughed as I sunk down into the chair next to his bed. The same chair I'd sit in for hours and watch him lay motionless.

"You're still a smartass, I see." I laughed, shaking my head. Grabbing his hand in my mine, I squeezed it gently, for the first time in a year, getting a squeeze back.

"It's good to have you back, old jackass," I told him, my face splitting into a grin when his deep laugh echoed off the walls.

"Thank you, you young turd." My dad and I had always had a best friend kind of relationship. We spent most of our time together, so we were really close. After what had happened in Chicago, we'd grown even closer. The way we spoke to each other was shocking to most people -I can still remember the looks he would get whenever we were out in public- but to us, it was just another way of saying I love you. "It's good to be back. I feel like a vegetable."

I nodded. "Hey, at least you lost that extra belly fat." He glared at me playfully.

"Fuck you, asshole, I've always been this hot! Women would come in the restaurant all the time and tell me I was hotter than you," he scoffed, his eyes teasing and I laughed, the sound traveling out the room and probably all the way down the hallway, but I dint care. I had my dad back and after an entire year without him, I didn't care who knew how happy I was.

"Oh, please, we both know I'm a younger, hotter version," I replied with a smirk.

"Wow, still have that big ego, I see," he answered with a smirk and I smiled. I'd missed his jabs so much.

"Hey, you raised a handsome devil, what did you expect?" I replied with a smirk of my own and he grinned cheekily.

"How's it been, kid? How's life treating ya'?" he asked, his smile falling from his face and I smiled, my eyes lowering. My mind ran to everything that had happened during the time that he was in a coma and I felt something shift in my chest.

"It hasn't been the easiest without you, but I've managed. I got my grades up, aced my SAT's, and became the hockey team's captain," I told him proudly and I watched his eyes fill with pride as a big grin spread over his face, lighting up his entire face.

"I'm proud of you, kid." He offered a smile, before his eyes shifted away and I knew his next question before he even uttered a word. He would always get the same look whenever he had to bring her up. "Did she try contacting you?" He spat the word 'she' like it was vile venom and I shook my head.

"No, not since the last time," I answered and he nodded, his eyes filling with relief.

"Good." He sighed heavily. "The nurses filled me in on the restaurant situation, by the way." My heart stilled in my chest as I waited for his reaction. Selling the restaurant to pay for my dad's hospital bills had been one of the hardest decisions I'd ever had to make in my life. I knew how hard he'd work for the place, but at the time, it had been the only option. "It's okay, kiddo. I understand. You did what you had to do." I sighed with relief. Patting his hand, reassuringly, I turned when there was a soft knock at the door, before it was pushed open, Ollie poking his head in with a grin.

"Can I come in?" he asked and my dad's eyes traveled towards him, his eyes filling with happiness.

"Oliver! Come on in, asswipe." Oliver laughed as he entered the room and walked over to my dad, grabbing him in a hug.

"It's about time you woke up, you lazy ass." My dad chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling. Oliver pulled a chair next to mine and sat down.

"Well at least we know I can still get more girls than you even when I'm in a coma," my dad smirked, gesturing out his hospital door at two middle aged nurses, standing a few feet away, whispering among each other while looking in the room. I shook my head with a laugh, while Oliver scowled.

"I'll have you know, old man, I've been quite the ladies man for the past year," Oliver bragged, giving my dad a confident smirk. My dad turned to me for confirmation and I shook my head in denial with a roll of my eyes.

"Ah, Ollie, I guess I still have some work to do with you, huh?" my dad turned towards Oliver, shaking his head in disappointment. Oliver's eyes lowered sheepishly and I shook my head with a smile.

My dad glanced at me then, staring intently at me for a minute, "You look different." I gave him a questioning look and he shrugged. "You met a girl or something? You stopped hopping around from spread legs to spread legs?" Laughter bubbled up in my chest. My dad had always hated that I slept around, he would always say that I shouldn't let her dictate my future. He believed that my mom was to blame for my whoring around.

"I told you, dad, I don't like settling for just one flavor," I answered with a grin and he shook his head, giving me a disapproving look. The same look he always gave me when I would say something like that. For as long as I could remember my dad had tried to set me up with someone. He'd tried to stop my whoring around, as he liked to refer to it.

"But there is a girl in your life, isn't there?" He gave me a knowing look and my eyes darted away from him. He turned to Oliver, who grinned knowingly, nodding his head twice. I punched him in the shoulder, making him wince. "Aha! There is. What's her name, kid?"

"There isn't a girl, dad. At least not one I'm gonna end up with," I mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

"And why is that?" he asked and I looked up to stare at him.

I shrugged. "Because I'm only gonna break her heart and I can't do that to her."

"What's this girl's name, kid?" he asked again and I sighed.

"Casey," I told him, reluctantly and he smiled while Oliver just smirked, giving me a knowing look. When I glared at him, he shrugged, his smirk intensifying.

"That's a beautiful name." I turned to my dad as he said this.

"She's a beautiful girl," I found the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. My dad's eyes lit up and he grinned like he'd just won the lottery.

"Is she now?" His eyebrows went up, his lips curving into a smirk. People would always say that I was the spitting image of my dad, and when he smirked the way that he was at that moment, I could see the resemblance. Casey would definitely notice that. I shook my head to clear my mind of any thoughts of Casey. I had to forget about any feelings for a girl like Casey. She was like caviar and I was pizza. Well actually, who wouldn't want to be with pizza? Let's change that, she was caviar, and I was salad. No one wants salad.

Either way, it didn't matter, because I knew who I was and I knew that I would only break Casey's heart. She deserved much better than an asshole who would eventually disappoint her.