My Summer Vacation,

Mae woke up two days later, earlier than usual. She showered and dressed quickly, eager to get on her way. Roger had been staying at his own house, but Mae was going into London with him on the bus where he would go back to Hogwarts and Mae would walk to her own school. She made some breakfast for her mother who wasn't up yet. She knew Sylvia would have something cooking for her though, so she didn't eat. She left a note, and after feeding Bernie, grabbed her bag and left.

She walked to Roger's house, eager to get on her way. She didn't want him to leave, but the sooner he left the sooner he would get back and they could have the whole summer ahead of them. A whole summer of remembering Cedric.

Sylvia was up and had eggs and bacon all ready, so Mae ate some while she waited for Roger. He dashed downstairs, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, grabbed some toast and kissed his mum goodbye. "Tell dad I said bye!" he called as he pulled Mae by the arm out of the house through the backdoor. They raced through the yard, through Mae's yard, then through Cedric's. "Bye!" he called to Donna and Amos through their kitchen window. They waved brightly to them.

"C'mon," Mae said. "I'll race you to the bus stop." She and Roger took off running towards the nearest bus stop. It was nice for Mae to have someone who could challenge her, after weeks of not having anyone to run with. They tied, reaching the stop simultaneously. "Hurry!" Mae teased as she bought her ticket. "We'll be late!"

Mae was transported back to when she, Cedric and Roger would all take the bus together in the mornings to get to school. But now Roger was leaving to go back to Hogwarts and Cedric was dead. It would be just her again.

"This looks good," Roger said, pulling her by the hand into a row of seats. He took the seat next to the window, like he always did. Mae was stuck with aisle again. "I like this," he said quietly. "Getting to spend time with you."

"I wish it were for a better reason," Mae said sadly, and Roger leaned his shoulder against hers. He put his arm around her, pulling her into him. Mae sank against him, feeling his familiar strength and warmth envelope her. He didn't hug her like Cedric did, but that was because he wasn't Cedric. The two had been amazingly close despite all their differences.

"I do too," he said gently. "Ced's happy now though. He always will be. We have to accept that."

Mae felt the familiar ache in her throat and eyes, and she wondered if she would ever run out of tears. Couldn't that make her dehydrated? She'd been getting horrible headaches in the past few days, and she suspected it was because of the crying.

The bus ride lasted longer than Mae would have hoped, but she knew she had few precious moments left with Roger. They held hands as they climbed off the bus. Mae still had half an hour to get to school, so she wasn't worried.

"This is it," Roger said as they reached where they would have to part. "Only two weeks though."

"Right," Mae said, leaning against him. "Only two weeks."

"Hey," he said, tilting her chin up. "I'll miss you."

"Good," she said with a smile. "I'll miss you too."

"You'll be fine without me," he said again, though Mae didn't believe him.

"I'm not so sure about that," she answered.

"Then I'll just have to come back and rescue you," he teasingly. "Look after my mums and dads. All four of them."

"Of course," Mae said, meaning it. "I'll try not to leave them alone too long."

"I'll see you soon then," Roger said. A bus to their right began to pull away, creating quite a lot of noise. He leaned down to kiss her forehead at the same moment Mae tilted her head up to kiss his chin. They landed somewhere in the middle, on each other's lips. It was incredibly soft, which was what startled Mae the most. Roger didn't seem to be startled at all.

"Miss you already!" he called after pulling away, running to catch his train.

"Miss you too!" Mae called after him, though he probably couldn't hear her. She stood there for a few minutes before walking slowly off to school.

* * *

"So there was a funeral?" Mary Beth asked at lunch. "Was it sad?"

"Of course it was sad," Josie said, rolling her eyes. "Funerals are always sad."

"It was alright," Mae commented, though she doubted her 'friends' were actually listening.

"Oh!" Josie squealed. "You'll never believe who I saw!"

"Who?" Mary Beth asked excitedly while Mae stared distractedly at her custard.

"Justin Baxter!" Josie cried. "Isn't he amazing?"

"He's pretty cute," Mary Beth agreed. "Not nearly as cute as Tristan Dillman though. Of course everyone knows he's got a thing for Mae. He goes for the jock type," she whispered secretively.

"What?" Mae asked, after having heard her name. "Who?"

"Tristan Dillman," Mary Beth repeated. "Oh come on," she said, rolling her eyes. "He told all his friends he was going to ask you to the last dance."

"Last dance?" Mae asked. "When's that?"

"The night after tomorrow!" Josie cried. "How could you not remember?"

"I was busy," Mae said, getting up and heading for the hallway. She felt like adding, 'With my best friend dying and all,' but it didn't seem fair to take advantage of Cedric like that.

She busied herself in her locker, unsure of where she was going to spend the rest of lunch. She had just decided to get a ball and head for the field when a voice from behind startled her.

"Hey," the voice said, and Mae jumped. She whirled around to see Tristan 'sexy hair' Dillman standing by her locker. Mae could hear all the angry whispers of the girls in the hallway, already spreading rumours about her. Mae did have to admit he had really nice hair. It was blonde and oh-so-messy, just the way the girls liked it.

"Tristan, right?" she asked him. His grin faltered at her not really knowing his name.

"Right," he said. "I've been hoping to have a word with you all week but you must have been sick or something."

"Yeah," Mae said. "Or something."

"So I was thinking," he said. "You want to go to the dance with me?" Mae thought of Roger kissing her, then of Roger holding Cho's hands when he'd thought no one was watching.

"Sure," she said. "I'd love to."

"Brilliant," he said. He winked at her before heading back off down the hallway. "I'll see you then," he called to her before heading away. Mae headed for field again, unsure of what to think of anything anymore.

* * *

"Hey," Merelie said as she came into the house after work. "Supper ready?"

"Yeah," Mae said as she pulled out some plates. "I just made some chilli."

"I brought home some ice cream," Merelie said. "Thought we could relax and have some girl talk."

"Do you have a dress I could borrow or anything?" Mae asked. Having a young and slim mother did have its payoffs. "There's this dance in two days that I'm supposed to go to with this guy."

"Guy?" Merelie asked. "Which guy?"

"You don't know him," Mae said, rolling her eyes. She wondered if she could sneak out of their 'girl talk' after dinner and play Wizard Chess with Sylvia like she'd promised. "His name's Tristan. He asked me today. He goes for the jock type apparently," Mae said rolling her eyes. "Which would be me."

"I just got this great little black dress you could borrow," Merelie said excitedly. "Tell me about said guy. Cute?"

"Great hair," Mae said. After all he did deserve some credit for the nice hair. "Good eyes."

"Sounds perfect," Merelie said approvingly. "Wait," she said. "He's not some jerk, is he?"

"I've never talked to him before," Mae said. "I just hope he isn't. He's pretty popular since like all the girls in the school are obsessed with him."

"Do you like him?" Merelie asked pointedly.

"I hadn't thought about it," Mae said. "But I don't think so. I doubt I'm girly enough for him."

"I thought he liked jocks," Merelie said, looking confused. "How are you not girly enough then?"

"It doesn't make a difference how much of a jock you are," Mae said. "I could still play football and be a girly-girl. But I'm not, so I'll probably just bore him to death."

"You won't," Merelie said, finishing off her chilli. Mae's mother had bright blonde hair and blue eyes, which made her look like Mae's older sister. "Your best friends were boys, remember?"

"I guess," Mae said. "But Cedric and Roger are different. They're better than most guys."

"Give this Tristan guy some credit," Merelie said, dishing out some ice cream. "He could turn out to be just as nice as Cedric and Roger were."

"Cedric and Roger are," Mae corrected her. Silence overtook the table.

"I'm sorry sweetie," Merelie said. "Come on," she said. "I'll show you that dress I was talking about."

"Sorry," Mae said. "I promised Sylvia I'd let her teach me how to play chess tonight. See you later!" she called as she pushed through the back door, heading for Roger's house.

* * *

"Hi," Tristan said as he pulled up in front of her house. He had a nice car, but Mae had no idea what it was. It was silver though, which was nice. "You look great."

"Thanks," Mae said as she slid into the front seat. Merelie had lent her new black dress, which did look pretty good on Mae. It showed off her legs, which was good. They were already tanned and muscled from football and running.

"You play a lot of football, right?" he asked her as they pulled out of the driveway. Mae waved to Sylvia who was watching them through the window.

"Yeah," she said. "I've been into it since I was five."

"Cool," he said. "I've been playing for a while," he said. "But not that long. You could probably kick my ass all over the football field."

"Maybe," Mae said. "I'm not as good as a lot of people assume I am. I just run faster than most."

"Cool," Tristan said again. Mae was grateful that he'd at least attempted to talk to her, but she was pretty helpless when it came to talking to boys. Except for Cedric and Roger of course.

"What other sports are you into?" Mae asked, searching for some common ground.

"Mainly just soccer," he said. "I play some basketball and rugby, but mainly soccer." He grinned. "I love a girl who can play."

Mae smiled her fakest smile. "You're in luck," she commented. "You've found one."

* * *

"How hot is he?" Josie whispered to her in the bathroom, even though they and Mary Beth were the only ones in there. "You've got the best date here."

"Do you think I should start playing football Mae?" Mary Beth asked. "You think I'd be any good?"

"You'd be fine," Mae said, re-doing her lipstick. "Why are we in here?" she asked bluntly.

"Because we're girls," Josie said, and Mae doubted she was joking. "We huddle in bathrooms and gossip about boys."

"I should go though," Mae said. "I mean, I can't keep the hottest boy in school waiting, now can I?" She pushed her way from the bathroom, looking around for her current salvation. He was on the dance floor with some of his friends, most of whom Mae realized to be in their last year. Mae was sure Tristan was only a year ahead of her though.

How is he so cool, she thought. When he's a year behind them? Most of the oldest boys were the really popular ones, except for Tristan. She made her way across the floor to him.

"Hi," she said loudly, having to lean up to his ear. The room was loud and crowded, so she nearly had to yell. "I'm bored. Want to go do something?"

Tristan gawked at her. She felt bad, because surely he thought she'd been talking about sex. She was not planning on having sex with him at all, but maybe they could go get something to eat or play some football.

"Yeah," he said, temporarily having regained his cool. He waved to his friends, who grinned back. One slapped him on the back. Mae refrained from rolling her eyes.

He slipped his arm around her waist as they left, getting dirty looks from the chaperones. Mae didn't care. She hated dances. She didn't know why she'd said yes in the first place. A flashback to Roger saying goodbye to Cho filled her head. Oh right, she thought. That's why I said yes.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked coyly as he opened her door for her.

"Drive-thru?" she asked him. "I'm starved."

"Sure," he said, starting the car and heading for the nearest McDonalds. "Then what?"

"Football?" she asked. "There's this park near my house we could go to."

He was listening closely, probably to hear if there was any sexual innuendo in what she was saying. It didn't look like he had found any. "Cool," he said.

They pulled into the Drive-Thru, each getting a cheeseburger and splitting some fries. Tristan began the drive back to her house, balancing his cheeseburger and steering. Mae couldn't drive yet, but she was planning on getting her licence that summer. Tristan was a slightly awkward driver, which gave away that he was barely seventeen.

"Where's this park?" he asked as they neared Mae's block.

"Stop here," she said, and he pulled up in front of her house. "I'll get a ball."

She ran from the car to Cedric's house where the lights were all off. She decided not to wake anyone up, so she grabbed the spare key and opened the door herself. She crept up the stairs, slipping into Cedric's room.

It felt so bizarre to be there. It was exactly the same as it had been when Cedric was alive, but it was somehow colder. Mae tried not to cry. She grabbed the ball and headed back for the hallway. She was just heading down the stairs when a voice made her jump.

"Mae?" Amos asked from the doorway of his and Donna's room. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "I was just borrowing Ced's ball."

"Good," he said. "Have fun on your date," he said sadly. Mae ran back up the stairs and pecked him on the cheek before racing back downstairs. She locked the door behind her, hid the key, and ran back to Tristan's car.

"That wasn't your house," he said, sounding amused.

"That's my best friend's house," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I needed to borrow his ball, and I always know where the spare key is. I ran into his dad, but he didn't mind."

"Oh," Tristan said. "You guys must be pretty close."

"Yeah," Mae said, leaning the side of her head against the window, glad it was dark. "We are."

She directed him to the field, and then pulled him over to the swings. She was anxious to see which of the three swings he chose. He chose Roger's. She chose Cedric's. She didn't know what this meant, but she had a feeling that it meant something.

"So," he said, looking around. "Come here often?"

"A lot," Mae said, staring at the ball. She pressed it between her palms, thinking of Roger's dribbling, Cedric's passing, and her own shooting. She loved the soft clunk the ball made when her foot connected with it. She even loved the smell of it. "We used to play football a lot as kids here. Me and my best friends," she added softly. "You know whose ball this is?" she asked him.

"Your next-door neighbour's?" he asked. She nodded.

"He was more than that," she said, giving in and smelling the ball. It smelled like grass and rubber. "He was one of my best friends in the whole world. He was so amazing." She shook her head. "He's dead now."

Tristan looked surprised. "What happened?" he asked.

"He was killed," she said bluntly, feeling her eyes fill. "Last week."

"Last week?" he asked, nearly falling off his swing. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I didn't know."

Mae looked at him. He seemed genuine. "He was murdered," she said. "It's a bit of a long story."

"God," he said, looking at the ground. "Murdered."

"Yeah," she said. "My neighbours go to this school up in Scotland, you see. There was a former student from their school, who went sort of psycho, I guess. He kidnapped two boys and tried to kill them." She looked up to the stars. They stretched on forever. "He killed Cedric instantly," she said, as Roger had explained to her. "The other boy escaped, and brought Cedric's body with him."

"Cedric," Tristan said softly. "He was your best friend."

"One of them," Mae said. "The other one's name is Roger. Those two are the best friends I could ever have asked for. They're amazing."

"Tell me about them," Tristan said. Mae kept her eyes on the stars.

"There's Cedric," she said. "He was the most amazing, honest, hard-working person I've ever met. He was so sweet and gentle." She scuffed her mother's on-loan shoe against the ground. "Then there's Roger," she said with a smile. "He's the funny one. But not too funny. He's sweet and bold and brave. And so smart. He's nearly as fast as I am," she said. "He's one hell of a mid-field." She grinned. "He can't play forward though. That might require the ball going into the net."

"What about you?" he asked her thoughtfully.

"What about me?" she asked.

"You've told me about your friends," he said. "Now tell me about you."

"What's there to tell?" she asked, feeling herself tearing up. She let the tears fall, sniffing loudly. "I'm too into sports," she said. "I'm obsessed with football. My feet are too big, I'm in love with one of my best friends and all my other friends are either dead, annoying, or over the age of forty." She sniffed. "Really not that much to say."

Tristan dragged his feet along the ground, drawing pictures in the dirt. Roger had always drawn pictures in the dirt for her and Cedric. They would be gone by the next morning, which had always made Mae sad. "You're in love with your best friend," he said. "Roger?"

"Right," she said. "I'd never actually admitted to being in love with him," she said. "But there it is. I really shouldn't hide it anymore. He's obligated to this other girl anyway."

"Obligated?" Tristan asked. "As in dating? Marriage? She's carrying his child?"

Mae laughed. "She was Cedric's girlfriend," she said. "He feels responsible for her. He forgets all about me when she's around."

"There's a big difference between obligation and choice," Tristan pointed out. "He might very well chose to be with you. That's a lot better than being obligated to this other girl."

"I guess," she said. "But he may chose to be with her anyway. She's very pretty," she said.

Tristan sighed. "This date isn't going anything like I expected," he said, making Mae feel horrible.

"I'm sorry--" she began, but he held up his hand to cut her off.

"Don't be," he said. "Hear me out. You're in love with this Roger guy," he said. "Which is cool. But I'm still having a good time. Not like a party or anything," he said, looking up at the stars too. "It's just not often I get to have a serious conversation with someone. Which is why I have a proposition for you."

"A proposition?" Mae asked, confused. "Of what sort?"

"Let's be friends," he said. "Not necessarily best friends, just good friends. You hate Josie and Mary-Beth," he said. "Cedric's dead," he said gently. "Your other friends are over the age of forty, which you're going to have to explain to me, and you're in love with Roger. Obviously, there are some things you can't talk about with him. I like my friends," he said. "But probably the same way you like Josie and Mary-Beth. They're annoying. I could use a friend," he ended bluntly.

"Deal," Mae said before she really thought about his idea. She shoved her hand at him. "Let's be friends." He grinned.

"Deal," he said, taking her hand and shaking it. Mae discovered she liked Tristan a lot more than she'd given herself credit for. He was nice. He was sweet. He was open. He was here and he was now.

She smiled. "Let's play," she said softly. He grinned, and took the ball from her.

"You're on," he said, standing up from his swing.

* * *

"It was really nice," Mae told Donna and Sylvia the next evening after supper. "He was a lot better than I'd expected."

"In what way exactly?" Sylvia asked gruffly, clearly not please Mae had been on a date with a boy other than Roger.

"He's very good-looking," Mae said with a grin. "But I'm not interested. We're just being friends. You should have seen the look on everyone's faces at school today," she said with a sigh. "They were all gaping at us when we ate lunch. I think they were expecting some big dramatic scene or something. We were just sitting there talking. I didn't have to talk to Mary-Beth or Josie all day!" She smiled and put down the peach she was peeling. "You don't know how nice it is to finally have a friend at school," she said.

"It sounds like he likes you," Donna said. "Does he know you're not interested?"

Mae nodded nervously. "I told him about Roger," she said with a blush.

"What about Roger?" Sylvia asked, dropping her peach as well.

"How I feel about him," Mae said, staring out the window behind the kitchen sink.

"How do you feel about him?" Donna asked softly.

Mae sighed. "You two were right," she said. "About Roger, I mean. I like him," she said. "As more than a friend."

"Of course we were right," Sylvia said. "We didn't believe you for a second."

"Thanks," Mae said, rolling her eyes. "Good to know you really listen to me."

"You should head home," Donna said with a smile.

"Why?" Mae asked.

"You should probably spend some time with your mum," Donna continued. "You don't seem to talk to her much."

"We don't have much in common," Mae said with a shrug. She sighed. "I should head home anyway though. I'll see you two tomorrow?" They nodded. Mae hugged them goodbye and left through the backdoor.

"Hi," Mae said to Merelie, who was working at the kitchen table. "Sylvia needed some help with her peach crumble, so Donna and I helped out." Merelie nodded absently.

"A boy called," she said dully. Mae froze.

"Tristan?" she asked. It would have to be him. She knew that some boys liked her, but she still didn't get many phone calls from them. And Roger currently didn't have access to a phone. It had to be him.

"Maybe," Merelie said distractedly. "I was pretty busy, I didn't quite catch his name."

"Thanks," Mae said, rolling her eyes as she rummaged around for milk in the fridge. She poured herself a glass. "I'll call him back in a bit."

"Are you two a couple now?" Merelie asked. Mae paused.

"No," she said. "We decided just to be friends."

"We decided?" she asked. "Or you decided?"

"He decided," Mae said, sitting down across from her mother. "He said he just wanted to be friends. We hung out at school today, and it was great."

"Good," Merelie said. She grabbed the phone and speed-dialled her assistant Robbie. Mae assumed their little chat was over. She took her milk upstairs to her room, where she finished writing her latest letter to Roger.

She wanted to tell him about Tristan, but she didn't know how to say it so that he wouldn't be jealous. She decided to ask Tristan himself.

"Hi," she said after dialling his number. She was once again very grateful she had her own line. Her mother had offered to pay for it, probably in hope that Mae would start using the phone five times a day like a normal teenage girl. "Tristan?"

"Hi," he said. "I called you."

"I know," she said. "My mum said a boy called, and I assumed it was you. I have a problem," she said. "I'm trying to explain you in a letter to Roger, but I don't know how without making him jealous."

"Wouldn't that be a good thing?" Tristan asked. "He might come to his senses."

"Maybe," she said. "I don't think I want him to be jealous though."

"The truth perhaps?" Tristan asked. "It's just an idea."

"That would probably entail telling him how I feel," Mae said with a laugh. "But if I could leave out the whole being in love with him part, that'd be great."

"Perfect," he said. "Just tell me we bonded over you telling me all about you and your wonderful friends. Tell him I'd never had friends like that, and realized I wasn't looking for a girlfriend. So we're just friends."

"Is that the truth?" Mae asked.

"It's certainly part of it," he said, and Mae could feel him grinning through the phone. "It'll do."

"Thanks," Mae said, beginning to write her letter while she talked to Tristan. "So what's up?"

"Not much," he said. "Just sitting here with my oh-so-sexy hair. It's quite boring, really."

"I would imagine," Mae said. "Did you do that History essay yet?"

"Just finished it," he said. "You?" he asked.

"Finished it after supper," she said with a grin. "Then I went and helped Sylvia and Donna peel peaches."

"You are the weirdest girl I have ever met," Tristan teased. "You already sound like you're forty. Just going over to help the neighbours peel some peaches. It's just like I Love Lucy or something."

"Not really," Mae said with a smile. "More like an episode of Gilmore Girls gone wrong. I'm only fifteen after all. They're just the only real women I've been around. Other than my mum of course," she added as an afterthought.

"Girlfriends," Tristan said. "Every girl needs 'em. Regardless of age."

"True," Mae said, biting the end of her pen. Roger used quills for his letter, which now made sense. All wizards used quills. It was just the way things were. They didn't use electricity either. Mae wished she could live in a world without electricity. She thought that would be amazingly cool. "What are you doing tomorrow?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. "You?"

"Same," she said. "I never have football on Saturdays. I was just thinking of staying home." She thought for a moment. "You wanna do something?"

"Sure," he said. "Movie?" he asked. Mae tried to remember the last time she had gone to see a movie in the cinema.

"I guess," she said. "I haven't been to see a movie in ages. Which one?"

"Whichever one's playing," he said. "You want me to pick you up?"

"Yeah, sure," she said. "No, wait," she said. "I don't want to go see a movie."

"What do you want to do then?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Not a movie. Something where we can still talk."

"Let's just go out for lunch," he suggested. "We can eat and talk all day if we want."

"Great," Mae agreed. "I can do that." She thought about Roger, and about how weird it was to have another guy friend. But her friendship with Tristan felt good, and she knew that it would be good for her. It was still strange though to be friends with anyone but Cedric and Roger. "I should go," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right," he said. "See you then."

Mae hung up then changed into a short-sleeved shirt and her beloved running shorts. She slipped on her running shoes and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She slipped out the front door, not wanting her mother to know she was gone.

She ran, feeling the cool summer night air against her skin. It was an amazing evening, with the street lamps just coming on. She ran with the hard pavement beneath her feet and the darkening sky above her.

She took her usual route: jogging up the street to the park, down Kinclaven Avenue, turning right at Belmont Street, jogging up Jeffrey Street, back up Cora Lane and onto King Avenue once again. The night was too amazing to end yet though, so she ran through her yard, and through her neighbours' yards for another kilometre or so. She really had to push herself this summer, since her normal routine was getting to be too easy.

She collapsed on the riverbank, closing her eyes and feeling her blood pounding in her head. She felt good for the first time in a very long time. Not just all right, but good. She felt as if her own home were too small to contain her grief. But the night sky went on forever, letting her grief stretch as far as it could. It felt good to stretch. It really did.

She was thirsty, so she sipped water from the river. It probably wasn't the cleanest, but it was all right. It certainly tasted good enough. She kicked off her shoes and dangled her legs into the cold water. It certainly felt good. She closed her eyes, but opened them once again. The stars were out, twinkling merrily in the sky. She didn't know if she believed in heaven or not yet, but she knew that if it was anything like the stars above her, Cedric was certainly happy. Mae closed her eyes, suddenly feeling unbelievably tired. She let herself drift away, the ground disappearing beneath her.

* * *

"Where were you?" Merelie hissed the next morning. "I was worried sick!"

"I went for a run," Mae said simply, heading for the bathroom. Merelie followed her.

"All night?" her mother asked. "You did not run all night long."

"I fell asleep down by the river," Mae said, shutting the bathroom door in her mother's face. "I was tired."

"You can't just do that," Merelie hissed through the door. "You can't just take off without leaving a note! You certainly cannot be spending any more night sleeping by the river. We don't even live near a river!" she yelled before Mae drowned her out with the running water.

Mae showered quickly, then changed. Merelie was sulking in the kitchen when Mae came down. Mae made some eggs for herself and her mother, putting some bread in the toaster.

"I'm not sorry," she said truthfully. "I'm sorry I didn't leave a note. But I'm not sorry I spent the night out." She bit into her toast. "I'm allowed to do what I want."

"Not all the time," Merelie said. "I'm still your mother. I do have a say in what you can and can't do."

"If you're my mother," Mae said, biting into her toast. "Then start acting like it."

Merelie stared at her. Mae put down her toast. "I'm sorry," she said, feeling slightly ashamed.

"I knew it," Merelie hissed. "That's what you think of me. You think I'm not a good mother."

"Mum," Mae said. "I didn't mean it."

"I knew this would happen," Merelie continued. "It's all that time you've been spending with Sylvia and Donna. I knew it would turn you against me. That much time with older women isn't healthy for a young girl. You should be out enjoying yourself, not making peach crumble with forty year old women!"

"How can you think that?" Mae snapped, jumping from her seat. "You just want me to be like you were at my age! An air-head!" She stopped for breath. "I'm not like that. I don't get a kick out of shopping sprees or dancing or dating boys with nice hair. I play football. Most of my friends are boys. I'm not normal, which I had thought was rather obvious."

"Mae--" her mother began, but Mae didn't let her finish.

"I need someone who I can depend on," Mae said. "That's always what I've needed. Donna and Amos and George and Sylvia... they're older than I am, that's true. But they're dependable. Cedric's dead," she said. "And I'm just trying to keep things the way they used to be."

"I--" her mother tried to say, but a honk in the driveway cut her off.

"That'll be Tristan," Mae said, jumping from her seat. "I'll be back before dark," she said to her mother. "See you then."

"Don't be late!" her mother called. "I want to finish this conversation!"

Mae dashed into the car, slamming the car door behind her. "God," she said, sinking back into her seat. "Sometimes I wonder how I was ever produced by that woman. I really do."

* * *

Tristan ate his sushi thoughtfully. Mae had never had sushi before, but he'd highly recommended it. So far, she was enjoying her salmon nigiri immensely. Raw fish was surprisingly good.

"I don't know how you'll work things out with your mum," he said. "But you will. She loves you. You love her. Eventually, it'll work out."

"I know," Mae said. "It'll always be hard between us though. I must be a lot like my dad," she observed. "I'm nothing like Merelie."

"Tell me about your dad," Tristan said in his commanding yet thoughtful way. Mae liked that about him. He was straightforward but still kind. Unlike her.

"I don't know much," she said with a shrug. "My mum was madly in love with him during college. She got pregnant, but he was going to work for this big law firm in Germany. He didn't want to be tied down when he was only in his early twenties. So he left, and my mum stayed. He gave my mum money until she got her big financing job, and then she asked him to stop sending it. He hasn't sent us anything since."

"You miss him?" Tristan said.

"How could I?" Mae asked. "I never knew him."

"No," he said. "Do you miss having a dad?"

"No," she said. "Amos and George, Roger and Cedric's dads, are like my dads. They even used to go to father-daughter luncheons with me. They were everything I'd imagined my dad could be like. I stopped wondering after a while," she said. "I thought about him the other day though," she admitted. "I wondered if he'd looked anything like my mum's boyfriend Sean does." She blushed. "I'm not sure why I thought that."

"Maybe because you wanted to know if your mum still thinks about him as well. If her boyfriend looked like your dad did, it might not just be a coincidence," he said.

"God," she said. "How do you know this stuff?"

"I'm perceptive," he said with a grin. "It's one of my more positive traits."

"You have negative ones?" Mae grinned, dipping her sushi into her soy sauce and shoving it into her mouth.

"You're such a delicate eater," he said, rolling his eyes. "Practically a sparrow, you are."

Mae grinned as she sipped her coke. "I don't care," she said with a shrug. "It's not like it matters what anyone else thinks about me."

"That's your problem," Tristan said triumphantly, thumping his hand on the table. "You think it doesn't matter what people think of you. Sometimes, it does."

"How?" Mae asked.

"Think about it," he said, getting up. "It's on me," he said with a grin, but Mae shook her head.

"You paid for our take-out the other night," she argued. "This time it's on me." She pulled out her wallet and headed over to the counter to pay. Afterwards, she and Tristan headed back for his car.

"How long have you been driving?" she asked him. He shrugged.

"Not long," he said. "I got my full licence just a few months ago." Mae nodded.

"I'm getting mine this summer," she said. "Me and Roger are getting them together. He put his off a year so we could both do it."

"You looking forward to seeing him again?" he asked her. She grinned.

"Yeah," she said. "But this is fun too. I actually have two friends my own age now."

"That's good," Tristan said approvingly. "You know, your mum's probably relieved you're hanging out with me."

"She is," Mae said. "I know she liked Josie and Mary-Beth, but even she must have noticed I didn't like them all that much. Maybe she hasn't though." She grimaced. "I get to finish my mother-daughter chat with her this evening."

"You need it," Tristan said, starting the car. "You guys definitely need to have a talk."

"Yeah," Mae agreed stubbornly. "I guess. I never really thought things were bad between us, but then Cedric..." she trailed off. "I can't pretend she's my role model or anything. I'm just trying to be honest. I'd much rather have Donna or Sylvia for my mum. That's just the truth."

"That's a horrible thing to say," Tristan said, staring at the road. "And that's the truth."

"You'd prefer me to lie?" Mae snapped.

"It's complicated," Tristan said. "Sometimes the truth hurts, you know. Which is better? A lie that draws a smile or a truth that brings a tear?"

"A truth that brings a tear," Mae said. "I hate lying to people."

"First of all," he said. "It's a rhetorical question. There's not actually an answer to it. Secondly, you don't seem to mind lying to Roger all that much."

"That's different," Mae said. "I'm not ready to tell him how I feel yet. You can't rush me."

"I'm not," Tristan said. "I'm just making a point. Lying can be a good thing sometimes, but then sometimes it's a bad thing. Lying to Roger is bad, because you're hiding how you feel about him. Lying to your mum might be a good thing, because telling her how you really feel is only going to hurt her."

"It's the principal," Mae insisted. "I try never to lie. Never."

"There isn't a principal," Tristan argued. "You'll just end up hurting people and pushing them away at the same time. Sometimes too much honesty is a bad thing."

"I love my mother," Mae said. "But that doesn't mean I have to like her. And I'm not about to pretend that I do."

"Just think about it," Tristan said with a sigh, pulling the car over. "We're going to go see a movie," he said. "Cool?"

"I guess," Mae said. "I just wanted to be able to talk."

"I talked," Tristan said, getting out of the car. Mae followed. "Now you have to think about what I said."

Mae followed him and paid for her ticket. They decided to go see the newest Charlie's Angels movie, which Mae hadn't really wanted to see. She didn't really want to go see a movie at all, but Tristan seemed pretty determined. She didn't think he was mad at her though, just trying to make her understand. Understand what though, Mae didn't know. Needless to say, she did have quite some time to think during the movie. She knew Tristan was doing the same.

* * *

"Hi mom," she said softly, entering the quiet house. She glanced in the living room, but it was empty. Her mother must have been in the kitchen.

"Mom?" she asked, entering the kitchen. Her mother's head was resting on a pile of paperwork, words from the paper having transferred onto her forehead. Mae leaned over her, holding her breath. Something seemed to have caught in her throat, though she wasn't exactly sure which emotion it was. She leaned down, and pressed her lips against the top of Merelie's head. Whatever emotion it was, it didn't feel bad. It felt natural. Her mother wasn't even so bad when she was asleep.

She left her mother in the kitchen, feeling like she was leaving a part of herself with her. Mae slipped out the back door, leaning against the cool metal of the door. She stared at the stars, wondering at the one-sided exchange she had just had with her mother. She thought of Tristan, and wished she could call him. But he wouldn't even be back from driving her home yet. She thought of Roger, and wondered if he had gotten her letter she'd sent to him with Bernie. She thought of Bernie, and hoped he wasn't too tired. She thought of Cedric, and the impact he'd had on her. Even in death, he was still affecting her. She thought of Roger again, and wondered if he was thinking of Cedric too. She wondered if he was looking at the moon like she was. She wondered if he was thinking about her.