"Hey," Heather knocks on my halfway-opened room door, "Leona asked for you."

I nod, "okay, I'll be down in a minute."

"I'll let her know," she nods back and turns to leave.

"Heather..." Her head peeks around the side of the door but she doesn't say anything. "Do you remember this?" I hold up a picture of us together in France.

"Of course," she smiles and comes to take it out of my hands, "this was our first summer together."

"Yeah," I smile with her, "Paris always smelled like coffee to me..."

"I like it," she shrugs.

"I know," I look over at her. "Are you sure you don't want any of this? All of these photos...we're not together but-"

Heather seemed to let the idea roll over in her head a bit, but soon enough, she was sifting through the box.

I don't think she even looked at the stuff when she was throwing it in there. Anything that reminded her of me simply got tossed out.

"Oh," Heather said happily, "look it still has color," she showed me the pressed flower between the pages of a book.

"What is that?" I furrow my eyebrows in unfamiliarity.

"...Pablo Neruda, Twenty love poems and a song of despair. I gave you it for our one year anniversary and pressed the flower to save the page of my favorite one. You must've left it in my room."

"Right, right. I remember..." I start to laugh, "I never did read it, you know? I meant to but— a book, really Heather?" I continue, "it was a nice gesture, but I hate reading."

"Yeah..." her voice trails off, "I know...I just thought you might like it since it was about love...pages and pages of how much I loved you."

"But still...pages and pages," I raise an eyebrow at her, "you should definitely keep it. It's so...you."

"I will," Heather agrees. "See you downstairs then."

"Mhm," I watch her head off.

It feels weird. It's been so long since she's been in my room or in my house for that matter. Now she's here as a friend...a friend I used to kiss.

I pick up the box of stuff and put it on the floor near my dresser. I'll have it tossed out tomorrow, I guess. If she doesn't want it...why should I?

"Mom!" I shout as I start down the stairs. She doesn't respond and when I reach the bottom, I see a bunch of people randomly scattered around my house. God, I never liked thanksgiving. "Hello, everyone," I greeted politely before maneuvering past them to where I find my mother in the kitchen frosting a cake.

"Took you long enough, Jace," she sighs, "dinner is just about ready, go start the toasts while the table gets set."

"Why me? Why not dad? I hate making speeches."

"Your father is busy. Do as I say."

I should've stayed in my room.

I grab a glass of champagne off of a server's tray, downing it quickly before grabbing another. I plaster on another fake smile as I join the guests. They watch me eagerly as I stand in the middle and clink a spoon against the glass to gather their attention. "Happy Thanksgiving, friends and family, it's a pleasure to have you all here to celebrate with us," and a pleasure it will be when you all leave, "I think I speak for everyone when I say that I have a lot to be thankful for..." I chuckle and prompt others to laugh as well. "Um- for example, I'm thankful for my wonderful parents...and that lovely meal being prepared...and uh-" I look around for something more meaningful to say I'm grateful for. Bringing up the Kendal's net worth just seems inappropriate...

"Love," Heather suggests as she comes up beside me.

"Yes, exactly," I sigh in relief.

"Having people to care about who also cares for you is something to be grateful for every day of our lives," she continues. "We go through many hardships, trials, and tribulations— but each year we prove that we can overcome those things...because there's someone out there who makes it feel...easy. Whether it's family...or friends...or that someone special that you're thinking about, always, we give thanks to them today...tomorrow, and every day that follows."

The room fills with applause, but I stand still...staring at her in awe. Heather hates public speaking, she gets all nervous and shaky.

"Wow..." I say absentmindedly but quickly catch myself. "Ehem," I clear my throat, "I couldn't have said it better myself. Heather, I am thankful for you."

"Well, alright everyone," my mother enters the room, "please follow me to the dining area, it is time to feast."

They scurried like hungry mice, chattering and clicking their shoes as they cleared the room.

"I can't believe you did that for me," I say to Heather.

"You were drowning up there."

"You didn't have to save me," so why did you?

"Who would I be if I didn't?" Heather shrugged.

"A little less than Heather, I suppose," I say teasingly.

"And unfortunately, I'm all in."

"What was all that stuff about someone special?"

"I figured it was relatable enough..." Her eyes moved down to her feet, signaling she was shy about the topic.

I place my finger under her chin and lift her head up, "For you?"

"Katherine, can you clear the table, please?" My father asks, and I see a glimmer of offense wash over her face. "Please?" He says more sternly and nods toward the kitchen.

"Yes, darling," she says stubbornly as she starts to grab and stack our plates.

"Great, dinner is over now. Can I leave?" I sigh.

"What could possibly be so urgent that you have to leave your family on Thanksgiving?"

"I have a lot of work to do, okay?"

"The work of the student council president is never done, huh?" He says in amusement, "especially when you're writing letters and sending them off with my signature stamped."

I look down, "...it wasn't a big deal. Just a stupid letter about an internship."

"An asinine letter I had to write a retraction for."

"It won't happen again, I'm sorry...I wasn't thinking."

"Did it accomplish what you were hoping it would?" He asks in disappointment, and I simply shake my head 'no.'

It didn't hurt Ethan...obviously. He'll probably get the internship now, and even when he thought I took that away from him...he still didn't care...he didn't hurt anywhere near the way I did.

"It was a mistake."

"You seem to be making a lot of those lately," father raises an eyebrow at me, "but the thing about mistakes...is that you can be forgiven. I forgive you, AJ."

"Thanks..." I say nonchalantly.

"I have made mistakes," he shrugs, "but I go back and fix them."

"Because you're the mayor."

"And I want to stay in this position," he nods, "...with that said, I'm going to need you to hand over your credit cards."

"What?" I narrow my eyes at him, "why?"

"I made a mistake...just like you. I'm fixing it, and until then...we can't handle any extra expenses."

"We're not going to have to move, are we?" I ask worriedly.

"No...we're borrowing a bit of money from your trust to pay the bills."

"What?" I glare at him and stand up from the table.

"It will be put back after the election. Once I'm re-elected-"

"what about college? What about Yale?"

"That's still going to happen, AJ, don't worry."

"My God," I huff and start to back away, "I can't even look at you."

"Audrey, wait-"

I ignore his supplications and, instead, find my way through the hall and to the nearest phone.

My nerves caused my hands to shake, but I still managed to dial his number.

"Audrey Michaels," Trevor said smugly, "can I assume this is a booty-call?"

"You know it's not," I huff, "I really need to talk to you."

"Well, you've got me..."

"In person..." I swallow hard, feeling the urge to cry crawl up my throat.

"My door is open."

"You know she's remarried three times now," Mother gossips to Aunt Charlotte.

"How embarrassing," Charlotte places her hand over her heart, "the public scrutiny of two divorces."

"I know," my mother says in contempt, "Anna Michaels had to leave the city. She lives in the Hamptons, I see her during Summers now, it's so odd...speaking with her and...Alison, does Audrey visit her ever?"

"In the spring, usually," I say indifferently.

"I can't believe she kept Gary's last name..." Charlotte adds.

"Why not? She kept his money," My mom laughs arrogantly, "how do you think she has a house in the Hamptons?"

"I think I'll go check on Steven and Ramona," I sigh and roll my eyes.

"Okay, doll," she brushes me off, "ask if they'd like some more caviar."

I nod mindlessly as I leave the kitchen.

After her first, second, and sixth glass of wine, all my mother wants to do is gossip.

My aunt does it sober.

Sometimes they sound like me and Audrey...or worse, we sound like them.

"Ugh, ew..." I turn away in disgust.

Steven sighs and pulls away from his girlfriend. "Cousin," he greets me.

"Don't make out on our couch."

I'd say 'get a room,' but I don't want them doing that in my house.

"Tell everyone that Mona and I are going for a walk," he takes her hand.

"Tell them yourself..." I say in annoyance and head for the stairs.

I've been trying to escape off to my room all day. Dad clearly locked himself in his office or something after paying the servers and escorting them out.

And yet, I overhear hushed whispers as I walk down the hall.

"Sh," I heard as I pressed my ear against the door of his study, "not so loud," my father says breathily.

"...oh, my god," I whisper to myself.

Muffled moans slip through the cracks of the door...

I can't bring myself to cover my ears...or move away...go anywhere else.

"You're so handsome...on your knees."

I stumble backward and almost trip over my feet, but I regain my balance enough to leave down the stairs as quickly as I came up them.

"Alison?" Mother questions as I head toward the elevator without looking back. "Alison!" She says more furiously, but by then the doors were closing.

My blurry vision made the busy lobby seem smeared, and I could tell by the feeling in my chest that I was on the verge of a panic attack.

I watched a lady wave down a taxi outside of the building, and when she opened the door, I rushed in.

"What the hell do you think you're doing-"

I closed the car door, "the palace hotel, please," I tell the driver.

The cab pulled off with the angry lady stood on the curb, my wine-drunk mother in the house, and my dad in his study...with one of the server boys.

Probably the one I recognized from my mom's book launch...he worked that day too. My dad disappeared that day too.

I turned to face the window when I noticed the taxi driver watching me sob in the rearview mirror. I grimaced when his eyes stayed on me, and he finally took the hint, turning the music up to drown me out.

To make things worse, I caught my reflection on the glass doors of the hotel once I climbed out of the car...

I look a mess.

If there weren't anyone else I needed to see more, I'd turn back.

"Ms. Alison?" Harry says in surprise.

"Is Trevor here?" I ask as I move past him and into the suite.

"Is he aware that you're-"

"Trevor!" I call out as I look around for him. "Trevor," I say again when he finally appears.

"Alison-" I run into his arms before he can finish speaking.

"My dad," I cry, "he's cheating on my mom...he's..." I pull away, not even being able to utter the words.

"Yes?" He urges me to continue.

"He's-" I start to say again, before I see Audrey turn the corner. "You're here?"

Trevor turns his head to see who I'm referring to.

"Hi..." She stood awkwardly with her hands behind her back.

"Why?" My eyes scan over the red suitcases sat by the bar with her name embroidered in them.

"We were just...talking," Trevor says hesitantly.

I shake my head at the both of them, but scoff and glare at Audrey, "I can't believe you'd do this again."

"If I even look at another plate of food...I'm going to explode," Danny sighs and lays back in his seat.

My mom only started working holidays last year, and still, it's only really Thanksgiving and the unimportant ones.

So, instead of doing something at home or going to visit my grandparents, we celebrate here. Pinkie's does this thanksgiving special so it's pretty much the same thing.

I like it better this way...Danny can't feel left out if he's right here with us. His dad takes holiday vacations as an opportunity to drink from sunrise to sunset...imagine giving thanks to that.

"Hope you saved room for dessert," Penny, one of the waitresses, comes up to our table with a tray of pies.

"We didn't," I sigh sadly at the thought of them being thrown out.

"Too bad, eat up," she puts them on our table anyway, "Isabel told me to you'd want 'em."

Penny worked here when she was in high school, but she disappeared after graduating. I'm only sorry to see her back since I know it's because her mom is sick.

"Jensen!" Danny yells out to where Matt is coming through the doors.

He smiles when he sees us. I'm guessing it's a welcome relief from being with his family the whole day.

"Oh, look, another one," Penny says when he slides in the booth next to Danny, "eat these pies," she hands him a fork and then sits next to me.

"Are you supposed to be sitting with us?" I chuckle.

"Shut up, there's hardly anyone here," she sighs, "what are you boys talking about anyway?"

"Nothing," I shrug and they don't disagree.

"Sure," she rolls her eyes, "let's talk about something then, you boring losers."

"Oh yeah, let's share secrets and braid each other's hair," Danny teases.

"Why, is that what you do with your girlfriend?" Penny raises her eyebrows.

Matt and I snicker but Danny kind of scowls at her with a smile.

"You don't want to know what I do with my girlfriend."

She scoffs, "it's not fair, you know? You guys get to be in high school with your high school girlfriends and do whatever you want. I was on lockdown at your age."

"We can't do whatever we want," Matt interjects, "but it's always been easier for guys, yeah?"

"How sad," Penny says sarcastically, "you can go out and hook up with whoever until your girls are grounded, is that it?"

"...pretty much," Matt laughs to himself.

"No," I shake my head, "My mom saw bruises on my neck one time and now she has the neighbor knocking on my door every time a girl comes by and she's not home."

"That's nothing," Penny sneered, "once when I was 17, my dad came home early from work, and I didn't hear him because I had music playing...anyway, he burst into my room while I was on top of my boyfriend, like full-fledged on top of him. It was so bad. He chased him out before he could even get his boxers back on."

"God," I cringed and laughed at the thought, whereas Matt completely fell into a hysterical fit of laughter.

"He grounded me for the entire summer."

"Rough," I nodded.

"My mom told him he just had to let me grow up and that it was normal for me to be experimenting sexually...that's when my punishment went from a month to the entire summer."

"Experimenting sexually?" Matt said in disgust. "Who says that?"

"I think that's what adults call it when they think it's like...your first sexual experience," Penny shrugs, "it's best to let them think that."

"I'm sure Leo's mom knows he does more than get bruises on his neck," Matt says skeptically.

"Should we ask her?" Penny challenges.

"No, we should not," I say sternly.

"Isabel!" Penny calls out and waves her over, "we have something we'd like to ask."

"Penny," I say through gritted teeth, "stop."

"What is it?" My mom approaches us, unsuspectingly.

"Matt is supposed to bring something sweet back home, do we have any apple turnovers left?"

"Yes, actually, we have a few I can box up for you," she ruffles his hair endearingly.

"Oh- and, what's your opinion on teenage sexual experimentation?"

I sigh heavily, "happy thanksgiving."

"Come on, I just want to know," Penny nudges me.

"She's going to say everyone should wait until they're married."

"Well, why not?" My mom huffs, "what's the rush?"

"Not everyone wants to get married, mom."

"I do," Penny smiles, "I want to move to the suburbs, have a few kids and be a housewife."

"See," my mom motions toward her.

"She's one person," I say in defense.

"I'm sure Danny would like to be married one day..."

"I mean...yeah, I wouldn't mind it," he looks sympathetically at me as if to say 'Sorry, I'm not on your side.'

"Well, you didn't wait for marriage," I say without hesitance, and he kicks me under the table.

"Ow!" I kick him back, and a small war ensues.

"Hey, cut it out-" my mom intervenes while Penny and Matt laugh.

"I don't want to get married," Matt shakes his head.

"Good for you," I put my hand up to high five him, but my mom lowers it before he could return the gesture.

"What is with you? What is so bad about spending your future with someone you love?"

"Marriage is supposed to be for life," I explain, "What makes you so sure I'll ever love someone enough to want to be with them forever?"

"What makes you so sure you won't?"