It's not easy to admit, but there's been an emptiness in my chest. Flint hasn't been in school since Wednesday. I want to be angry, because our assignment is due today. If he's a no show I don't want to think about what that will do to our grade. Anger fades into a nagging ache in my gut that something is wrong. He left after I questioned him about his dad. It was hard to believe him when he said nothing was going on at home. I'm not sure when I went from despising him to worrying. Maybe. I'm not such a bad person after all.

I rub my eyes, they're heavy with sleep. I've spent the past few nights trying to figure out the perfect words without admitting that I actually care. I doubt anyone would even realize it. They know I'm good at pretending. There's a difference between writing words on paper and actually meaning them. Writing this paper was taxing. The thought of people finding out that I see Flint in a different light now is weighing down on me. I pulled some of the words from deep inside of me and saying it outloud frightens me.

It's been a long morning and as the bell rings signifying it's time for Creative Writing my nerves hike up a notch. My eyes are glued to the door as the students pile into the room. The interval between bells is three minutes, and it's the longest three minutes of my life.

My assignment sits face down on my desk. I read it over a hundred times last night. I was so wrapped up in it that Lucille had to bring dinner up for me. The final bell rings. I stop breathing when Flint's eyes meet mine. Something is off about his appearance, he's wearing a black baseball cap with the brim low almost covering his face. Underneath his eye looks swollen and concern washes over me. The thought of even caring about what happened to him overwhelms me. My mind lands on Connor, and what that sweet little boy has to endure, I hope he's not hurt too.

Flint passes by my desk and I want to say something, but nothing comes out. I grab at my throat and hold my feelings back.

"Alright folks, this assignment is worth a letter grade, I hope all of you put a lot of time and effort into this one. A little twist, if you are called up to read you will not be reading your own, you will have to read what your partner wrote."

Mr. Shepherd glances around the room with his eyes landing on me. My anxiety skyrockets so high that my leg bounces with such force I hit it on the bottom of the desk. Under my breath I curse. I can feel the glares of the other students and Mr. Shepherd because of my small outburst.

"Alright, here we go," he says, reaching into an old bag.

He's put everyone's name inside to make it fair.

"Rogers, your first."

The world tilts and my stomach rolls with nausea. Flint gently taps my shoulder. With a trembling breath I grab the paper in front of me and turn to give it to him. Our eyes meet and I attempt to figure out if he's okay. For a brief second he shuts his eyes then nods, like he's telling me it's fine. Our hands touch with a zap as I hand him the paper. I pull away fast and keep my hands in my lap, while I wait for him to start.

"Mr. Rogers," Mr. Shepherd says in a calming voice. "I'm going to have to ask you to remove the hat."

The whole room is silently watching the interaction between them, including myself. Flint's breathing is labored as he carefully removes it and places it into Mr. Shepherd's hands.

Mr. Shepherd leans against his desk. "Mr. Rogers, please come see me after class."

Wide eyed Flint stares back at him and nods, then returns his attention to the paper I've written.

He clears his throat, then starts to read.

"I've spent my whole life imagining things were one way, only to discover that not everything is black and white. There's a gray area too, one that I failed to see. This week we were asked to step into someone else's shoes. That someone for me was Flint Rogers. I'm supposed to write what I learned about it, but this assignment was much more than that.

"Walking in someone else's shoes isn't always easy. On the outside you see them as one thing, but when you step inside you find that what you thought you knew isn't right at all.

"I've been privileged to live in the Heights my entire life, so it's no secret I come from money. I've always been aware that some people don't have all the luxuries I have, and before this assignment I honestly didn't care."

Flint scoffs at the comment, and Mr. Shepherd clears his throat to urge him to continue.

"It was hard for me to get excited about this project, because my mind and heart was not open to spending time with someone I had no desire to get to know."

I cringe as he reads that line. He winces like I struck him physically.

"What I wasn't prepared for was to learn that maybe the person I despised wasn't him, but it was myself. His shoes may have been a little worn in and dirty, but the truth is sometimes the people you never imagined spending time with are the people we need the most in our lives. They can teach us so much if we just open our eyes and heart to their world.

"We are both guilty of judging one another. To him I'm a stuck up brat who can't do anything for myself. To me, he was the guy who got in trouble, and who didn't have a head on his shoulders, but let me tell you, he has more of his life together than I do mine. I saw a son who stepped up to be the glue that holds his family together. I wish I were that strong, to pick the pieces up and carry on."

Flint pauses to scratch the back of his neck, his eyes focused on the paper and nothing else. The paper rattles as his hand is shaking.

"I haven't been the nicest person. I know I haven't been the kindest to a lot of people who aren't in my circle, and when you grow up a certain way it kind of sticks with you. My dad grew up with money as did his father. The shoes I stepped in this week did not come from money. It was eye opening to me. I saw how they struggled, but through that struggle came an amazing reward.

"Before this assignment I called the person inside the shoes I walked in, some pretty awful things. I don't think I fully meant them, I just didn't know any other way. I'm sorry if I offended the shoes I walked in that day, or if I have offended anyone else who wears the same beat up old shoes."

I don't think Flint took any breaths during that last part, and when he finally does his eyes find mine. I blink, tears are threatening my eyes. This assignment was more of an apology to him than anything else. I almost don't care whether or not I did the assignment correctly. I've always been closed off and when he walked away from me that night it felt as if a piece of me woke up. There's a small voice in my head telling me I should change, but am I really willing to risk everything I've worked for? I still don't know the answer. I'm not sure if I ever will.

I'm so wrapped up in my head I hadn't realized that the class erupted into applause. There are people watching me who aren't in my circle, and they look pleased. I didn't think that my paper was that great, so I'm taken back by the response.

"Miss Bennett, that was a really great paper. Anyone going after that should brace themselves. Right off the bat you've got yourself an A."

He pauses for a moment. "Miss Bennett, try to keep that positive attitude towards others, and maybe you might love life a little more."

My cheeks flush at his words. Mr. Shepherd continues to call out another name and I'm thankful that he's moved on to someone else. A hand rests gently against my shoulders. I jump and look around hating that I'm doing it to make sure no one is watching us interact. I've got to stop if I want things to change, but I can't turn it off like a switch.

I crane my neck to see him.

"We're okay."

Him saying that causes the water at the edge of my lids to flow over. I don't mean for them to, but they seem to have a mind of their own. He smirks and shakes his head. I shove his shoulder playfully and he softly chuckles.

"Hey." He's so close I can feel his warm breath on my neck and it makes me shiver. "I thought I said I wasn't worth crying over."

A wicked smile creeps up my face. What is he doing to me?

When the final bell of the day rings I jolt from my seat. This week has been so stressful I can't wait to get home and relax. I received a text during eighth period confirming that the girls and I are still on for our mall date for the weekend. I reply with a yes, but honestly I don't feel like going. It's strange for me to admit that, but with how they've been acting I'm not in the mood to feel like a third wheel.

I tug my locker open and a small piece of paper falls out. There's only one person I know who puts notes in my locker. I bend to pick it up and turn it over.

If you ever just want to jam sometimes text me. 631-255-6372 – Flint

I find myself smiling again, and I really wish he didn't have that effect on me. Something inside possesses me to actually store his number in my phone. When I do I shoot him a text to let him know I got the message.

Me: I'm down. Maybe soon.

I don't think I'll follow through with the offer. I said I'd try to change, but I'm not ready to go that far yet.

I get outside in time to see the bus pulling away with the guys wrestling team on it. Cam's head is glued to the window and when he notices me watching it leave he blows me a kiss. I go to wave, but he's already turned his head to talk to his teammates. I let out a heavy sigh as my phone chimes.

Flint: Sounds good! Maybe your dad can join us again, he kicks ass on the bass!

I laugh.

Me: Should I just give you his number? He said almost the same thing about you.

Flint: That Could be fun. Oh, thanks for not making me look like an asshole in class today.

I'm taken back by his comment. I'm not sure if I should take that as something good or not.

Me: You're welcome? ...

Flint: Ha! Have a good weekend Marnie.

Me: You too!

I get into my car and flip down the visor to check myself in the mirror. Staring back at me is not the girl I was a few weeks ago, she's different somehow. She's got a stupid smile on her face. The scariest part is that it's not Cam, Tanya or Rose who's given me the courage to smile like this again, it's him. Flint Rogers.

***

I go straight home. It's Friday and as much as I'd like to hang out with my friends I'm tired of the whispers. Seeing them can wait until tomorrow. Music streams through the house from the second floor. Checking the time, I'm concerned. Dad is home early again for the second time this week, that never happens.

Standing in the doorway I take in the scene before me. He's sitting on a small amplifier playing an acoustic version of one of my favorite Papa Roach songs. It's amazing to listen to his voice again, I almost don't want to interrupt him, but I clear my throat out of sheer curiosity.

"Oh, hey, Marnie, you're home early," he says mid strum.

I shrug. "You are too."

Swooping into the room, I grab the old Fender beside his Les Paul. I sit cross legged on the floor beside the amp.

"I came home to check on you." He stops playing for a second.

"Me?" I raise an eyebrow. Slowly, I strum a few chords while I wait for him to answer.

"I may not be around much anymore, Marnie, but I know when something is bothering my own daughter. Is it about your mom?" he asks.

I stop playing for a minute and shake my head. With everything going on I almost forgot he'd found my letters. It had been several months since I even looked at that stuff before it popped back up and into dad's hands.

"That and Mr. Shepherd called."

I stare up at him. "He did? But he was impressed by my work today. I swear I didn't..."

"He said that you and Flint have been turning in some pretty good work, he's proud of you, but also worried about you."

"Oh," I say, strumming the guitar.

"Marnie." Dad's voice drops an octave. I don't look at him as my bottom lip starts to quiver.

"Marnie, are you okay?"

The pick in my hand snaps in two. I curse under my breath causing a waterfall of tears to surface, ones that I've been holding in all day. If Mr. Shepherd has taken notice, that means the entire class has. Welcome to my social downfall.

Dad leans his guitar against the wall and sits down in front of me. He puts a hand out to stop me from playing. I stare blurry eyed at the broken pick on the floor.

"What's going on kid?" he asks. "I know I'm not your first choice of someone to talk to, but believe it or not I don't like seeing you like this. I apologize I haven't been around and things have changed between us, but I want you to talk to me when things are going on. You aren't acting like yourself."

He's right, this isn't like me at all. I've had moments where I've gone through some minor depression and I've retreated from everyone, but I was always able to get past it within a day or so. Between whatever is going on with Cam, my friends, and the sudden guilt I'm feeling over offending Flint - it's making me more lost than usual.

"Can we not talk about it right now? I need to process what's happening. I'm used to figuring things out on my own."

I wait for him to lecture me, but instead he grows quiet.

"Will another jam session make you feel better?" He asks, his smile returning to his face.

"You want to jam with me again?"

"Yeah, why not."

There's no hiding back my smile. Jamming with dad is the perfect way to relieve my stress. His job has taken him away from all of us, and part of my aggression has been because of that.

"I'd love that. I miss jamming with you."

He reaches out and places a hand over mine. "I'm so very sorry for stopping."

"What made you come back to this room?" I lift my head just slightly to see his face.

"You."

"Me?" I point to myself, unsure of what he means.

"Yeah, seeing you on stage that night at the concert and then jamming with you and your friend Flint, who's a pretty kick ass musician if I do say so myself. I don't know, it made me want to play again."

I'm at a loss for words. It's sad that we couldn't have done this sooner.

"Marnie, promise me when you're planning and deciding on your future that you won't just settle on doing something because it's safe. Do it because you're passionate about it, and don't lose that passion."

His confession isn't a surprise. The way he watched all those bands performing that night, I could see it in his eyes. It's easy to see there's regret in his eyes, but he also doesn't regret giving it up to raise us. I don't know what we would have done without him.

"You regret not doing the music thing, huh?" I ask.

Dad nods. "I do. You and your brothers came first though. That was a given, but I shouldn't have given up on music itself."

"It's not too late," I say, shrugging my shoulders. "You can play music even though you're a big shot mayor."

Dad chuckles. "I don't have much time..."

"So make the time, just like you are right now. I may be young, but I can still give my dad some advice." I laugh. "I could even maybe get Flint back over here so you two can rekindle your bromance."

"Bromance?"

I laugh. "Dad it's so obvious you're smitten over the guy."

"Are you with him?" he asks suddenly.

I'm frozen in place, as my stomach does a weird flip thing. I'm suddenly questioning my feelings again. It was just a stupid Kindergarten crush.

I swallow hard. "No."

"Are you still with Cam?" he asks.

"Yeah, I guess..."

I go back to plucking the strings in hopes he won't ask me anymore questions about boys.

"You guess?" he laughs

"Dad, do I really need to talk about boys with you?"

"Sorry this must be really awkward for a teenage girl, huh?" he asks.

I roll my eyes and look up at him. His eyes show concern."I'll be okay dad."

"Ready to jam with your old man?"

I'm thankful for the subject change.

"I've never been more ready."

I rest my fingers on the strings, but before I can do anything Dad squeezes my hand.

"So are you going to tell me why you're really home early?" he asks.

I bite my lip hard and then look up at him. "Just having a hard time right now with some stuff. Can we just leave it at that?" I ask.

He nods. "What do you want to play?"