Nightly Day

"A young lady is a female child who has just done something dreadful." ~Judith Martin

"Ow!" I yelped as I felt a sharp pang on my forehead. I opened my eyes to see white. I sat up in my bed and pulled the piece of paper off my face as I flipped it over to examine. "What the-" I began.

"Watch your language, young lady," Mum warned me briskly.

"Mum," I croaked out as I wiped the sleep away with the back of my left hand. I shifted my sheets around and noticed that I was still wearing my skirt and halter from yesterday, but, for the life of me, I could not remember going upstairs yesterday. "How'd I get here?" I mumbled at her.

Mum sighed exasperatedly. "Honestly, Lily, where else would you be?"

"But last night I was," I tried to explain. I saw the no-nonsense look on my mother's face and promptly changed tactics. "Nevermind," I sighed. "Where's James?"

"Outside weeding with your father."

I nodded as my tired brain attempted to process the information. Blearily, I stretched my sore arms. "What time is it?"

"Seven," she answered as she straightened out her pretty blue top over her skirt.

I groaned. "In that case," I muttered as I pulled the sheets up over my head and squashed my face into my pillow.

A few muffled footsteps later, and I felt the sheets being ripped out of my hands. "Oh, no you don't, Lily Marie. We had a deal. You went to your Quidditch game yesterday, and now you're my slave all morning."

I groaned for a second time. "Mum," I whined as I clutched back for my warm yellow sheets. "Slavery's illegal."

"Not when it's your child." She yanked the sheets completely off my bed and then grabbed my pillows as I tried to cower behind them, as well.

I sat completely defenseless on my bed in a curled up ball. I rolled onto my side and stubbornly tried to lull myself back to sleep.

Mum pinched my arm. "C'mon, Lily. Petunia's friends will be over at noon for the bachelorette party."

"That's not for five hours!" I griped as I tried to warm myself up by rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

"Which will give you plenty of time to do all the chores I wrote down for you," she admonished me before forcing the forgotten list back into my face. "I better see some productivity coming from you in the next five minutes, Lily, because if not, I'm getting the hose."

Grumbling to myself, I waited until she left my bedroom before I gingerly got off my sheetless bed and rose to my feet. Feeling stiff in my clothes and uncomfortable strapless bra that had fallen around my waist some time during the night, I threw on a pair of stretchy black pants and an old t-shirt. Then I went to the bathroom. My trusty bladder never let me down.

Next, I piled all of my sheets back onto my bed and actually took the minute and a half to make it. It was awful.

Plopping down onto my quilt, I examined the paper she had given me adorned with her untidy scrawl. I saw my name printed on the top and then scanned down the long list of orders beneath it.

Clean the pigsty you call room

Straighten up the living room

Dust the house (don't skip the kitchen like you normally do)

Vacuum the house

Clean the upstairs bathroom (toilet too, cleaner is in the downstairs cupboard under the sink)

Organize the fridge (throw out any leftovers to make room for tomorrow)

Take out the trash

Mop the kitchen floor

Empty the dishwasher

Fold the laundry

Be nice to your sister

I snorted at the last item before I waded up the "list" and threw it over my shoulder.

"Lily!" I heard a shrill voice call from downstairs.

Sighing morosely, I picked the list back up and straightened out the crinkles in the paper. Merlin, it was going to take me all day to do just half the list. There was no way I could get that done and be ready in time to meet Petunia's mutant friends in five hours. Who did my mother think I was? A magician?

Merlin's ankle bone!

I grabbed my wand off my night's stand and eyed it with a large grin. Sometimes being a freak had its advantages.

I started downstairs in the kitchen because my stomach was grumbling and I wanted to sneak breakfast in.

The Cleaning Nazi was waiting for me. Her nose hovering over a pile of paperwork, Mum was at the table talking to someone on the telephone. She kept nodding her hand up and down, occasionally spouting off random words of approval.

I rolled my eyes and went straight for the pantry. Did I want a healthy granola bar or the raspberry-filled biscuits on the top shelf?

Mum distracted me from my dilemma by snapping her fingers in my direction.

Grabbing the biscuits, I walked over to the counter. "What, Mum? Did you want something?" I asked innocently.

She growled as she continued to listen to whoever was talking on the other line, occasionally jotting down a few notes.

Grinning to myself, I popped a biscuit into my mouth before pouring myself a generous glass of orange juice.

Amused, I watched my mum continue to listen to her caller with rapt attention as I leisurely enjoyed a few more biscuits.

Growing more annoyed as the minutes passed, Mum finally pulled the receiver away from her mouth and addressed me with a frustrated tone. "Don't you think you should be getting started?"

I shrugged lackadaisically and took a quick swig of orange juice.

"Yes, okay, yes, see you then," Mum spoke into the receiver before she hung up the phone. "Finally," she muttered to herself. "It's nearly seven thirty now, Lily," Mum warned me.

I smiled at her widely. "No sweat, Mum," I told her brightly. "It'll be done like magic."

Lost in her paperwork, Mum dumbly nodded at me before exiting the kitchen.

I threw the empty biscuit box out, put my drained glass into the sink, and took a deep breath. I rolled my head in a circle before cracking my neck. I shrugged my shoulders and then took my wand out of my waistband.

It was 10 ¼" long, made of willow, and right now, it was my best friend.

Sorry, Hestia.

Even with the magic, cleaning was frightfully dull. I was fairly certain that if a boggart had shown up, it would have taken the place of a dirty toilet. Finally finished with the bathroom, I stuck my head out the window to clear my senses from the toxic cleaning fumes.

I saw James working outside by Dad. Standing up on my tiptoes for a better view, I yelled his name waved to him.

"Hey," he called up to me.

"Hi," I said back. "I woke up in my bed this morning," I told him.

James nodded with realization, and he threw a look over his shoulder at my dad. His hand went up to his hair, but he remembered the dirty glove he was wearing and thought better of it. "Er, yeah," he replied. "You never know what's going to carry you to sleep."

I nodded. "That was really nice," I replied. "Of the universe, I mean," I added quickly.

"Of course," he said with a wink up at me.

I involuntarily smiled before shaking my head.

"You know," he continued. "This is kind of romantic with me down here and you all the way up there."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to go clean another toilet. Later!"

I caught a quick glimpse of his disgusted face before I trotted out of the upstairs bathroom and went to the downstairs one.

Merlin, I hated cleaning.

To the shock of my doubting mother, I was showered, dressed, finished with all my chores, and standing in the kitchen promptly at noon. I smirked at her flabbergasted expression. "Try not to have a stroke, Mum," I taunted.

Mum quickly wiped all traces of shock from her face and straightened out her blouse. "Ready to go, girls?" she asked to the group of simpering sycophants swarmed around my sister.

"Bachelorette party! Woot!" one of them cheered loudly, inspiring the rest to join in.

Had I mentioned we were all going to the spa?

My eyes darted to my father and James, who were sitting in the living room. I tiptoed out of the kitchen to avoid the rousing chorus of girly squeaks and plopped next to James on the couch.

"Hide me," I begged.

James laughed and ruffled my hair.

I smacked his arm away. "Useless," I accused.

Dad laughed from his brown leather armchair. His feet resting on the ottoman, he chugged the last few sips of his lemonade before placing it down and sinking back into his chair, the picture of ease. "Now, Lily," he reminded me with a bit of superiority in his voice. "Aren't you the one who planned this whole bachelorette thing?"

I hid my face in my hands. "That was ages ago," I complained. "Mum owled me the pamphlet to make reservations, and I just let her do what she wanted. The N.E.W.T.s were coming up! I blame it on temporary studying-induced insanity!"

"Temporary?" James quipped, looking pleased with himself for such cleverness.

I groaned as I squashed my face into his shoulder. "Don't make me go with them," I pleaded.

"You knew this was happening today."

"But I had forced it from my mind so I wouldn't have to think about it," I whined. "It's like torture, I tell you. They're going to kill me. I'm going to die," I finished dramatically.

"You have to go, Lils," Dad said. "You're the Maid of Honor."

"I take it back," I grumbled, scowling darkly.

"If it helps at all, we have to go with Vernon to play golf," Dad told me with a disgusted look on his face.

As much as I, too, hated that dreadful sport, at least Dad would not have to get hair ripped cruelly from his body or cover his face in green sludge. I groaned again and buried myself deeper into James.

James gently pulled my fingers, which were clinging desperately to his shirt, away from him. "It'll be fine, Lily," he assured me. "You got an O on your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. What's a couple of girls compared to that?"

I frowned. James obviously did not know anything.

"Lily! Time to go!"

Mum's voice chimed like the last few seconds of a ticking time bomb.

Bravely, I stood up, turned to face them for what could possibly be the final time, saluted, and walked towards my doom.

We took one of the girls' van because she had enough room for all seven of us.

Somehow, I found myself sitting all the way in the backseat sandwiched between Bridget and Gabby.

Bridget had long blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She had introduced herself to me remembering that I was "Petty's anti-social sister from that went to a Swiss reform school." My other neighbor had kindly corrected her to say that my reform school was actually in Scotland. We were obviously going to become the bestest friends.

Apparently, Bridget and her equally delightful boyfriend were attempting to test their sexual limts, and apparently, I wanted to know about it.

Gabby, on the other hand, was an athletic black girl, who, true to her name, enjoyed talking with "Bridge" about all the great things she could do to accomplish her goal.

Meanwhile, in the next row, Jewel was speaking amicably with Cassidy about the dangers of using homemade wax in one's bikini area. Jewel was a secretary, and Cassidy had recently been fired from her job for sleeping with her boss. It was completely consensual, and Cassidy hadn't even known that Riley had a girlfriend.

My sister had awesome friends.

"So, you really think that will work?" Bridget asked anxiously. "My one friend tried it, and she said she was sore for days." Bridget fidgeted in seat uncomfortably, as though the thought made her wince in pain.

"Really, who?"

"Felicia."

"Oh my God, Felicia did that? I never would have believed that! I knew the whole purity ring thing wasn't real."

Bridget nodded eagerly. "She covers it up well. Ugh, I just don't know about this."

Gabby reached over me to grab her arm reassuringly. "Trust me, Bridge. Martin will love it. Just make sure you have plenty of supplies first. Once, we didn't use any-"

Gabby shrieked as my elbow accidentally collided with her nose.

"Watch the curb, Mum!" I called cheerfully.

Gabby made a choking sound as she clutched her nose.

"Oh, sorry," I apologized to her. "We're so crammed in here, and I guess I jostled from the last turn." I smiled sweetly at her before turning back into my seat.

The rest of the ride passed a bit more quietly.

Walking into the spa was a bit surreal for me. I recalled our trip just the past summer and realized how much had changed in my life since then.

A woman dressed in all white with her black hair tied up into a severe bun greeted us with almost an animatronic smile. It looked like they hadn't changed their policy for hiring employees. This woman looked just as transgenic as the spa creatures I remembered from before.

"Let's do some pampering!" Gabby shrieked.

"Yay," I muttered darkly, but I was not heard over the shouts of elation.

The woman, who introduced herself as Astrid and did not appreciate my joke about Swedish meatballs, guided us over to the reception desk to check us in for our "spiritual spa experience." The only thing I particularly wanted to experience was the inside of my eyelids.

Internally groaning, I grabbed my agenda from her meticulously manicured hand and looked it over. First we had nails, then massages, a quick break for herbal tea, and finally facials.

Promptly afterwards, I would soak in a soothing bath of eucalyptus essence and try to off myself.

Forcibly ignoring the blithering squabbles of Bridge-Smidge for Brain, Flabby Gabby, Pain-in-the-ass-Cass, and Jewel-the-tool, I allowed myself to be herded towards the nail salon with gritted teeth.

The large room spelled just as redolently repugnant as I had tried to forget. The stench singed my nostrils, caused water to pool in my eyes, and made me debate whether it was worth breaking the Statute of Secrecy to perform a bubble-head charm on myself.

"Stop," Mum hissed into my ear as she walked up behind me.

I looked at her anxious eyes with confusion. "I'm not doing anything," I told her.

"Keep it that way," she warned me with narrowed eyes before fixing a smile to her face and walking over by Petunia. "Oh, Tuney, you should get a French manicure. It'll look so lovely with your dress."

Still standing in the doorway, I took a deep breath of somewhat unpolluted air as I readied myself to enter.

One of the impeccably groomed males stared at me from the reception desk. He smiled at me politely, showing off the pearly whiteness of his eerily straight teeth. "Something the matter, Miss?" he asked me with a deeper voice than I expected judging from the amount of product in his hair.

"No, everything's lovely," I told him stiffly before I walked in.

Dutifully, I scuffed over to the large display of polish in varying colors, each brighter, shinier, and more sparkly than the next. In no mood to think about what colors would clash the least with Christmas tree, I hastily grabbed the first unoffending bottle I could spot and plopped down at one of the chairs at the pedicure station next to Mum.

She put down her magazine, whose covered promised "Seven Ways to a Firmer Bum," and peered at me questioningly.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair as I avoided sticking my feet into the blue water at the base of the chair.

"This is fun," she told me. "Girl time to talk freely without any boys around."

I sighed tiredly. From personal experience living with a bunch of girls in one dormitory, boys were extremely necessary. Without them, girls became infinitely more catty. The presence of the male made the female feel the need to perform. The thought of attracting a mate was constantly on the brain, and no female wanted to appear anything less than sensational in front of a future snogging partner. Without blokes, the rules changed. Girls could be just as vile as they really were.

"It's for your sister," Mum reminded when I had not said anything in return.

I examined her pleading eyes with a scornful expression. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You could put in a little effort to look like we're not burning you at the stake."

Grumbling obscenities under my breath, I kicked off my flip-flops and plunked my feet into the blue water at the base of my chair with a small splash. "Happy?" I asked.

"Ecstatic."

Jewel, hairspray as fuel, sat down to my right, and I waited for the unlucky person who was going to have to touch my feet.

Thirty minutes of "ouch," "freaking oww," "stop fidgeting," "I hate you so much right now," "do you ever wash these," and "Lily Marie," later, I rose out of my chair and waddled over towards an empty manicure desk.

I maneuvered myself into the chair as I examined the face of my manicurist. He was about six or seven years older than I was with dark blonde hair and jade green eyes. He would have been quite handsome if he wasn't wearing a mask over his mouth that made me feel like a toxic, contagious patient. Spas really did wonders for my self-esteem. It was so nice of the Stepford brigade to make me feel welcome.

"Hi," I mumbled at him.

He nodded in response. "Ready?" he asked, his words muffled by the mask.

I slapped my hands onto the counter. "Sorry in advance," I told him.

My golden boy tutted as he noticed the horrid state of my nails and gave me a weird look when he examined the black ink stains running along my right hand. Feeling self-conscious, I retracted my hands immediately and tried to hide them in my lap.

Sighing, he leaned over and grabbed my hands and placed them back on the counter. "You should take off your engagement ring," he told me while rifling through a drawer for supplies.

Slowly, I wriggled the ring off my finger and examined the sparkling diamond center.

"What's his name?"

I fumbled with the ring in my fingertips before hastily shoving it into the pocket of my shorts. "James."

He gestured towards the desk, and I flattened my hands back onto the white surface. He adjusted the light on the desk and then took out a long filer.

With nothing to keep my mind entertained except for my occasional wince in pain and the corresponding sigh from my laconic friend, I soon grew quite bored. I decided to create a backstory for the bloke.

His name was Billy. He had just moved to this part of the country six months ago from Newcastle. Originally, however, he and his family had lived in Ireland. His father left his mum for another woman, and she never quite recovered. Billy wanted to go to university to study anthropology, no, archaeology, and so he left home when he was eighteen. He met a girl there named Jess—Lizzy, with whom he was quite enamored with.

Lizzy had long, dark hair and bright blue eyes. Her smile caused him to feel a tug at the pit of his stomach. She was studying biology and would take samples of tadpole specimens from the small creek at the edge of campus. It took him three whole weeks before he mustered enough courage to go up and talk to her.

The dated for four years after that. She got an offer for a job at a genetics facility in America, and left the country soon after that. For months, Billy was heartbroken. He moved back home and floundered in misery.

Recently, he moved to Surrey and started to live his life again. He had a new flat in a nice neighborhood and was even socializing a bit with a few of his neighbors. Recently, he had applied to several different archaeological agencies in the area. He even had a date set for tomorrow with a girl he had met in a café two days ago.

A sharp slam of a drawer sounded, and I started in my chair. Billy waved his fingers in front of my face, and I blinked as I pulled my eyes back into focus.

"All done," he announced.

Nodding dazedly, I got out of the chair. "Good luck tomorrow night," I told him.

He stared at me strangely. "Thanks," he replied, sounding unsure and a little perturbed.

I offered him an awkward smile before joining my fellow ladies at the open chairs in the front of the room.

"We have to let our nails dry so that the paint doesn't chip," Bridget told me cheerfully as she examined her purple fingernails.

I sighed, knowing that even a magic wand could not help me here.

With an obligatory sense of cautiousness, I flipped through a boring magazine as I waited for my nails to dry.

"So you had to go to reform school?" Gabby asked me quietly with a wiggle of her toes.

"Um," I said as I glanced at Petunia.

She stopped picking at her fingertips and looked up at me with wide eyes. She stared at me pleadingly, and I sighed.

"Yes."

"What'd you do?" she asked tactlessly.

I thought for a moment. "Obsessive non-studying," I answered her finally.

She frowned prettily before carefully flicking a bit of hair out of her eyes. "That doesn't sound very interesting."

I shrugged. "I guess I'm pretty boring. My roommate was the wild one. She killed a bloke."

Gabby's eyes went wide as she inhaled sharply. "Really?"

I smiled. "Would I lie to you?"

"Massage time, ladies," announced Mum.

I waited until the girls had filed out of the room before, checking around to make sure no one was looking, I slid my wand out of my waistband and dried my nails. I hid it back in my shorts and then slumped back into the group of chattering females.

As much as I did not want to disrobe and have someone try to break the bones in my back with their callused fingers, five minutes later I was lying down with my face stuck inside one of those stupid, too-small holes only found in massage chairs.

I whimpered as the masseuse, female from the looks of the white flats, dug her fingers into my shoulder blades. How was this supposed to be soothing?

Twenty long and painful minutes later, the masseuse left to give me a few minutes to collect myself.

Rolling my eyes, I put my clothes back on as soon as I heard the door click and then started stretching my back. Merlin, I felt sore. Had she used acupuncture, or something?

My back still making me feel I had just been put in a complete body bind, I stumbled out of my private room and found the rest of the girls on their way to the tea room. Once inside, I squatted down into a tiny bean bag chair, which sagged from my weight and made its unimposing sage color stretch and crinkle. I looked around at the white washed walls and bamboo trees. The whole relaxing nature ambiance of the place made me feel more on edge. I hated being told to relax. If someone wanted to me to relax, why the hell wouldn't they just leave me alone?

"Tea, Miss?"

Aroused from my thoughts, I turned my head to see a brunette looking at me with a concerned expression and a small tray of Chinese-styled tea cups.

"What kind is it?" I asked wearily.

"Orange Yerba Mate," she answered. "It's Siberian."

"Of course it is."

I picked out a cup and tentatively took a small sip that just allowed a drop to enter through my pursed lips. I grimaced at the bitterness. "Do you have any sugar?" I asked.

"I can give you a scoop," she told me, holding up a spoon.

"Make it five."

I took my freshly sweetened cup in my hand and started to drink its contents, amusing myself by thinking of past Divination horror stories of death by tea leaves.

"So, Brandi, how long have you been working here?" I heard Mum ask.

The waitress, whose name was apparently Brandi, which I had no idea how she knew because workers at this spa did not wear nametags-most likely to protect their chi energy-answered her, and they began chatting for a few more minutes.

"Yes, the wedding's only in two days. I'm completely stressed, so it's lovely to be here and have the opportunity to relax. I don't even know how much my blood pressure will drop when this is all over. Of course, they'll be another wedding to plan. My younger daughter over there-wave, Lily-just recently got engaged. He's a lovely young man. His name is James, and he's got dark hair and hazel eyes-"

I stopped listening as Mum began to describe James's physique. I pitied poor Brandi. She was nodding along dutifully, but I could tell she was mentally calculating how many minutes needed to pass before her next break. Her eyes held the same glazed-over look that mine did whenever Slughorn had begun on a particularly niggling tale. Still, Brandi was a real trooper. She stayed immobile for another ten more minutes with a polite smile plastered to her poreless face.

My mum loved to make friends wherever she went. Personally, I hated over-sharing to random strangers. If I didn't know you, chances were that you probably didn't want to hear about the tiny intricacies of my life.

But that was just my guess.

I watched Tuney's friends as they picked at their cucumber sandwiches, peeling the bread off to avoid the carbs. I groaned. Merlin, did having two X-chromosomes mean that we were doomed to a life of constantly watching what we ate and worrying about fitting into the tiniest pair of shorts imaginable? What happened to curves? What happened to feminism? Why couldn't we all stop worrying so much about the hair on our heads and focus more on the information inside of them? Who the bloody hell cared if boys were supposed to like passive females? Maybe if we stepped it up a notch, they would, as well.

"Facials!"

I groaned internally. Or we could always get facials.

I picked at the mint green gook on my face with disgust. Instead of placing a set of cucumbers on my eyes, I ate them. Stewing in my chair, I no longer made any attempt to mask my complete disdain for this place.

Petunia, whose cucumber slices had fallen down her face, turned to me with a hapless sigh. "Could you at least try to look like you're having fun?" she asked.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're the one who planned this trip," she reminded me.

"Doesn't mean we all need to go around acting like complete idiots," I countered. "Merlin, Tuney," I hissed in a hushed tone. "This is ridiculous."

She frowned as she sat up in her chair. "I know that you don't really like girly things," she began slowly.

I scoffed loudly at the understatement.

"But sometimes it's not so bad," she continued. "The spa really isn't about getting fancy nails or cleansing your skin. Embracing your femininity does not mean you oppose feminism. It's possible to enjoy a spa trip and do advanced calculus. Sometimes you need to take a day off for pampering. Spas exist to help you feel better inside your own skin."

"By making you aware of your every imperfection," I grumbled darkly as I thought about the strict genetic lottery requirement policy for the employees. "This is completely frivolous and shallow."

Petunia sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's not like you've ever had anything to feel self-conscious about."

"I have plenty-" I began to argue, but she interrupted me.

"Sure," she spat nastily. "Perfect Lily. That's all we ever hear. 'When's your sister coming home? She's so gorgeous.' 'Lily is so smart.' 'Oh, Henry, isn't Lily's boyfriend amazing?' 'Lily will make such a beautiful bride.'"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "That's not my fault," I defended myself with a slight blush.

Petunia sighed. "Not directly," she answered. "But you could try to control it a bit better. You just like the spotlight too much. You always have to be the better sister. You try to steal Mum and Dad away from me. Hell only knows that no one cares about my wedding since you've announced yours."

I bit my tongue. "That's not my fault," I repeated vehemently, stretching out each syllable.

"Oh, really?" she asked with twisted amusement. "So you didn't just decide to announce your engagement a week before my wedding?"

I opened my mouth to correct, but then promptly shut it.

"I thought so," she spat.

"I didn't mean to," I told her. "You know, I don't hate you as much as you think I do. If you could just talk to me every once in a while and not brush me off-"

"Save it, Lily."

"No, Tuney, it's not fair!" I argued back, my voice rising.

"Girls!" Mum hissed.

I looked away from Petunia's defensive blue eyes and noticed five other sets staring at me.

Mum sent us a furious warning look with dark brown eyes, and we both promptly shut our mouths.

I sank back into my chair and tried to disappear.

The trip home was uncomfortable at best. Mum tried to spur conversation, but it was rough and clipped. Petunia joined in only when asked a direction question, and the twittering nincompoops at least had enough brains to realize something was off because their prattling was subdued. I was silent the whole ride.

I slammed the door on my way out of the car and then stalked up to the house. Before anyone had a chance to talk to me, I raced up the stairs and locked myself into my room. I looked into my mirror and took a few deep breaths as I stared at my reflection with revulsion. I yanked off my tank top and threw it on the floor before I found my rattiest, baggiest t-shirt, the one that had I had bought four years ago at a highway rest stop, and slipped into it. Then, I swiveled and around and fell onto my bed face first.

My mind swirled with guilt, disappointment, anger, sadness, pride, and self-loathing.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Go away," I told it.

Another rapping set of knuckles sounded. "Open up, Lily. It's James."

I picked my wand up and directed it at the door.

James entered about a second later. "Lily, what happened?" he asked with concern as he noticed my lifeless form on my bed.

"Nothing," I grumbled back to him in a scratchy voice.

"Petunia looks kind of upset downstairs," he commented hesitantly as he ran his fingers through my hair.

I sat up and shifted my gaze to his worried hazel eyes, more green today than gold from the tint of his forest-colored button down. "Can we not right now?" I asked him pleadingly.

He sighed with a tight-lipped smile and a nod of his head. "Course," he agreed as he pulled me into a hug. "But I hope you won't mind if I tell you about my day."

I shook my head, which brushed against his chest from the movement.

"Golf is the bloody stupidest sport in the world," he announced theatrically. "I honestly think I died of boredom somewhere around hole six. I'm a ghost of James right now because I was so out of my mind."

I chuckled lightly, and he took that as encouragement to continue.

"What kind of game makes the chief objective to score the least amount of points, I ask you? That'd be like, hey, if you catch the snitch, we'll subtract from your score. It makes absolutely no sense. Completely bonkers, in my opinion. Then, one chap named Tim-or possibly Tom- scored a birdie, or something, and we were all supposed to be impressed. I don't understand. All I know is that I kept getting bogeys, but I didn't see a single Bat-Bogey hex starting flying at my head."

I laughed loudly. "I guess golf is not your game," I told him.

"Not unless they add broomsticks."

I sighed.

"Better?" he asked, the lightheartedness gone from his voice.

I didn't answer as I contemplated the question.

He gazed at me through his wire-rimmed glasses, and I squirmed in anxiousness.

"Where are all the other boys?"

James shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Um," he said slowly. "Well, we might have stopped somewhere after the golf."

"Somewhere?" I pressed.

"Somewhere," he repeated nervously. James grabbed the back of his head and kneaded at his hair roughly.

"Would this place have scantily clad women, perhaps?" I asked.

"Okay, I didn't know we were going, and once we got there, I completely closed my eyes. I didn't see anything. Okay, I might have saw one thing, but that's only because I had to peek my eyes open at one point to find the door with your Dad. We didn't stay long. Vernon's friends lied about where were going. They said a bar, but they hadn't mentioned that they had hired police women to be there. Only, I don't think they were policewomen at all, unless muggle police are much different than Aurors. Because I definitely hope Moody never makes us do that. So we left, and we came back here. And I love you very, very much, and I hope that you don't hex me."

He spoke this all very quickly, and I could only make out every few words.

"Strippers," I spat in disgust. "Let's all go out with our stupid male friends and go gawk at naked girls dancing around. Afterwards, we'll all start a religion to worship the penis." I scoffed in abhorrence. "Males are pigs."

"Horrid," he agreed vigorously with a large nod.

I sighed as I examined his frightened eyes and red cheeks. I laughed. "Merlin," I sighed.

"Forgiven?"

I nodded slowly. "I don't think bachelor parties are our thing apparently. It's going to be a few hours before I can show my face downstairs."

James stood up and pulled me up with him. He grabbed my hand firmly in his own. "Let's go then," he announced. "We'll leave, and whatever happened will be like old news. We'll be a bit early, but I'm sure they won't mind."

I frowned at him with befuddlement, but James had already begun spinning.

A tug pulled at my navel, and suddenly I had collided back into his chest, only we were no longer standing in my bedroom.

We were somewhere outside, and I blocked the light from the setting sun with my face to get a better look at our surroundings. I saw the stately bushes, paved sidewalk, and iron-wrought gateway. The familiarity of the distant double-sided doors ignited a spark of remembrance inside of me, and I looked at James in puzzlement. "What are we doing at your house?"

"We're having dinner here, remember?"

I balked at him. "What?"

He grabbed my hand and guided me through the gates and towards the door. "I told you about it last night. Don't you remember?"

I wracked my brains as I tried to recall what had taken place the previous night. Nothing appeared. "I don't know!" I hissed, my voice edging on hysterics. "I was asleep!"

"You were awake."

"Oh, Merlin, look at what I'm wearing!" I shrieked as I pulled at the gray blob of my shirt.

"You look fine," he assured me.

I gazed up at his pressed black slacks and crisp button down. "Yeah, sure, for the barbeque out back with the kids down the street," I scolded. "But not for dinner with your parents."

James sighed. "Lily, it won't really matter."

"How could you not have told me?" I demanded as we neared the porch.

"I thought you knew!"

"Well, you should have known that I wouldn't know!"

"That makes no sense!"

"Exactly!"

James rang the doorbell. He ruffled his hair quickly before giving me the once-over. "Where's your ring?" he asked quickly.

"My pocket," I told him. "I took it off when we got our nails done," I said as I shoved my pale pink fingertips in his direction.

"Put it on," he advised me with a nervous scrunch of his hair.

"Why?" I asked as I fished it out of my pocket. "Then we'll have to go through this whole thing again with your parents."

James sighed and looked upwards. "Yeah, but they already think we're engaged," he mumbled out quickly.

I stared at him in shock.

He grabbed the ring, which had fallen slack in my hand, and put it on my finger.

The door opened to reveal a smiling house-elf.

"Hi, Katy!" James greeted her, his voice sounding strained with enthusiasm.

I gaped at the open door as a small whimper escaped from my mouth.

Smehka-I was going to kill him-leen.

"Master Potter! Miss Evans! Come inside!"

James grabbed my hand, and we crossed the threshold into the Potter Manor. Katy guided us through the grand corridor with its high ceilings and sparkling silver chandelier, her tiny feet making pitter patter sounds on the rich, chestnut-colored hardwood floor.

I let my eyes wander over the moving portrait of a woman riding a hippogriff as I tightened my grip on James's hand. "You could have at least let me apparated home to change," I hissed at him.

"Since when do you care what you wear?" he whispered back at me.

I growled. Yes, so I was not a girly girl, per se. I also realized that I had just spent the majority of the day bashing girls and mentally calling them bints. Yes, hypocrite was mine name.

However, there was a difference between buying cuticle lotion for fifty pounds a bottle and showing up to your boyfriend's, excuse me, fiancé's, very fancy house for dinner with his parents in a t-shirt that had "Turn Left Next Exit" on it in red letters.

"Master Potter is staying long?" Katy asked.

"Katy, it's James," he answered. "How many times must we go over it before you just drop the formalities, Kates?" He placed his hand on her shoulder.

The house-elf beamed toothily at him, her amber eyes wide with admiration. She fiddled with the skirt of her dress, which seemed to be made out of very expensive burgundy curtains. "A long visit?" she questioned again.

James sighed. "Sorry, Kates, but it's just for the night. Lily and I have to get back to her house for the wedding."

"The wedding!" she shrieked happily before realizing what loud noise she had made. Katy clapped her hands over her mouth, trying to cut off her air supply.

James quickly removed her hands. "Kates, it's fine. Don't."

Only, she would not stop cursing herself and apologizing to "Master Potter." Her ears flapped as she violently threw herself around.

Finally, James kneeled down to grab her shoulders. "Calm down, Katy," he told her forcefully.

She stopped moving. "Katy is so sorry, Master Potter, sir," she said, her lip trembling.

"About what?" James asked teasingly. "You did nothing wrong, Kates. Don't worry about it."

"Master Potter is not angry?"

"It's James, and I am completely delighted with you."

She beamed again.

James rose to his feet and grabbed my left hand once more.

"So Master Potter needs to leave home for the wedding to Miss Evans?"

"No," I corrected her quickly. "It's my sister's wedding."

"But Miss is wearing the family ring," she said, gesturing to our entwined fingers.

I sighed. "It's complicated," I told her.

Katy noted dutifully. "Katy understands complicated, Miss. Master and Mistress have many complicated things, as well. No good for Katy."

James grinned at her. "Well, we wouldn't want to be up to no good, now would we?" James asked her as we entered what I recognized to be the living room.

Katy bowed to him and then to me. "I must return to the kitchen."

"Do we have any treacle tart by chance?" James asked her.

"Of course, Master Potter, sir. 'Tis your favorite."

He smiled again. "Always looking out for me, Kates," he complimented her fondly.

She bowed twice more before scurrying back down the corridor.

I watched her depart with a sad smile. James had explained Katy's situation to me during my last visit. His parents did not support the enslavement of house-elves. However, there had been so many living in the Potter Manor that they simply could not set them free. They had been too long indoctrinated into the idea that forced labor was the only way to find happiness. One failed attempt of doling out clothing proved that it would be better to let them do as they wished, as long as they were never abused.

His parents would handle the main chores and leave the little things to the elves. Unfortunately, as time passed, the elves grew old and began to die from natural causes. Katy, who was born when James turned six, was the only one left. They had tried to set her free one more time, but she would not budge from the house. It was her home for her whole life, and she had no intention of leaving it. More so, however, Katy was raised to believe that her honor and the honor of her family would be destroyed if she ever left the Potter Manor.

I tightened my grip on James's hand a second time, though it was more tenderly done than before. "You're so annoying," I whispered to him.

He pouted at me apologetically.

"Because I can never stay mad at you," I finished with a sigh. "You just have to go and do something adorable. It's infuriating."

He chuckled, and we walked into the living room. It was grand with a roaring fire and thick carpeting. Huge burgundy drapes were hung over the large window that overlooked the large grounds in the back. The colors were rich and exotic, and the large elephant figurine on the enormous bookshelf reminded me of India.

Mrs. Potter was seated on the plush, leather sofa reading a book. Her dark hair, strewed with gray, and illuminated by the fire, contrasted with the red frames of her glasses.

"Mum!" James yelled out cheerfully as he stepped forward to greet her.

In less than half a second, she was standing with her wand out, and her book forgotten on the floor.

"Mum?" James said again, though less enthusiastically.

Her hazel eyes widened, and she lowered her wand. "James Potter, you nearly gave me a heart attack," she scolded. "It's not nice to sneak up on your mother, especially when she's a trained auror. I could have hexed you by mistake."

"I'm sure I'd have deserved it for some reason or other," he told her with a smirk as he walked over to give her a hug.

"Ahh, James," she cooed against him before leaning away to try to brush his untidy hair into submission. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, Mum," he replied as he kissed her cheek.

She patted his face before turning to me. "And, Lily, it's great seeing you again. I was just telling James how lovely you made Christmas."

Trying to control the blush creeping onto my cheeks, I walked over to Mrs. Potter, who gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "It's wonderful to be back."

She grinned. Her lips were full, and the deep lipstick she wore contrasted with the gold in her eyes. Her features were angular but softened by age. Traces of profound beauty were still present in her face. "And I found those baby pictures I had told you about. He's naked as a grindylow."

I laughed and winked at James, whose olive tan had suddenly vanished. "Sounds perfect," I told her.

"But first, we should have dinner." She looked over her shoulder and yelled out "Jack! Come down! James and Lily are here!" Then, she turned back to James. "I'm surprised you two came so early. My son is usually known for arriving late."

"Only when Sirius is with me," James protested.

"Sirius visited us just yesterday," she replied. "He brought me a gorgeous bouquet of daffodils that were charmed to change colors."

James rolled his eyes. "You just got back two days ago."

She tutted teasingly.

"I meant to visit, Mum, but we've been busy. "

They both turned to look at me, and I bit my lip in nervousness. His mother's eyes narrowed in on the ring on my left finger, and I shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes," she said. "I imagine an engagement would keep you two fairly occupied."

She laughed at our perturbed expressions.

"Oh, my, you two look like stags in the headlights," she sighed. "I won't pretend that I wasn't a tad surprised when my son barged in here demanding the family ring. Though, it could only be expected. I can't remember a single summer after he went to Hogwarts when he wasn't buzzing about a redhead he met at school. Oh, Lily, we must discuss wedding plans. I'm thrilled to have another girl in the family. It's just been me and two boys for years."

"I take offense to that," Mr. Potter announced as he strode into the room. He was dressed in dark brown pants and a light blue sweater that looked like cashmere. Gray streaked his dark, combed back hair, giving him a very dignified look. "We've been delightful company," he assured me with a wink.

"Hi, Mr. Potter," I greeted him with a smile.

"Hello, Miss Lily," he replied as he gave me a hug. "It's wonderful to see you again. I've missed your gorgeous face."

My smile widened in embarrassment.

"Always a pleasure."

James coughed loudly.

"And you, too, son," Mr. Potter teased.

They exchanged taunting looks before they embraced.

"I do suppose I did right with this one," he mused as he mussed up James's hair. "He was smart enough to ask the second most perfect woman in the world to marry him," he added with a wink at Mrs. Potter and then a smile in my direction.

Had I mentioned that James's parents sort of loved me?

Next began a flurry of questions inquiring after what James and I were up to, how school had ended, and what we had done so far in preparation for Petunia's wedding.

As we were seated in the elaborate dining room, however, the conversation switched to a different wedding.

Dun-dun-dun-death.

"Have you given any thought to where you want the wedding to take place?" Mrs. Potter asked me.

I finished removing my silverware from my napkin and then placed it in my lap. "Not really," I answered as I put my elbows on the top of the polished birchwood table and then quickly took them off as I remembered my manners. "Um, we haven't really discussed details yet."

"Well, were you thinking about a traditional wizard wedding? Because those are usually held out of doors so that the sparks from the wands don't burn anything."

I bit my lip and gave James a panicked look from across the table.

He took a long sip of his wine before turning to address his mum at the south end of the table. "Well," he began slowly. "We're not sure yet if we'll be having that sort of wedding."

"What other kind is there?" Mr. Potter asked.

"Well," James said in a strained voice. "Lily might want to have a muggle wedding."

"A muggle wedding?" Mrs. Potter said, sounding excited by the idea. "That would be something different."

"Do they still let you levitate the bride and groom at the reception afterwards?"

James took another sip of wine.

"We're still waiting on the details," I said quickly. "We aren't in any rush."

"Yes, but you've got Auror Academy starting soon," Mrs. Potter pointed out. "I know that Alastor means to really push you all in the next three years. You won't have much of a chance between studying and classes to put together a whole wedding."

"And afterwards, forget it!" Mr. Potter chimed in from the head of the table. "You'll be constantly on missions, sometimes together, sometimes apart. You'll be lucky if you have the chance to sleep a full eight hours, let alone pick out rings."

"Well, Jack, we do have those white gold rings in the drawing room upstairs. Remember, they were your Great Uncle's?"

"Oh, yes," Mr. Potter agreed. "Well, that's one thing off the list."

"You really should get a move on," Mrs. Potter said. "That way you two will be married and will have plenty of time to focus on having grandchildren while you still can. If you get married now, you won't have to take time off work in the middle of your career, Lily. It's no joy trying to go on a raid nine months pregnant, let me tell you."

I slammed my knees together, my eyes wide.

"You are having children, aren't you?"

I whimpered and then chugged back a bit of wine.

"Mum," interrupted James, sensing my distress. "Why don't we talk about something else?"

The salads arrived, and I focused very hard on chewing quietly.

The extreme nausea that had arose in the pit of my stomach lessened as the dinner progressed. Part of it was the subject change, and the other bit was the roasted duck that Katy had cooked for dinner.

"A meal fit for a King," Mr. Potter had announced triumphantly when he received his steaming plate.

"Here King, here King," Mrs. Potter mumbled with a sigh. "Honestly, Jack, every night."

I laughed and started eating enthusiastically. My stomach had been gurgling with hunger. I nodded politely as conversation continued and the duck began to slowly disappear from my plate and reappear inside my stomach. That's what I called magic.

"So we were standing there with no idea what was going on, trapped inside a tiny little closet for a whole day," Mr. Potter announced dramatically.

I gasped. "Really? For that long?"

He nodded. "My legs were going to give out, but there was no room in the bloody thing to sit down!"

"Liar," Mrs. Potter accused. "It was about three hours at the maximum."

"Every time he tells this story they're in the closet longer," James grumbled as he picked at his potatoes.

"Anyway," Mr. Potter continued, glossing over the naysayers and turning to look back at me. "She starts blaming me for getting stuck in there with her."

"It was your fault!" Mrs. Potter said. "You pulled me in and then didn't realize it had been magically locked from the outside."

"How was I supposed to know? It was our first Auror assignment. I was only 21 at the time."

She rolled her eyes. "We learned the art of concealment the first day at the Academy."

"It's not my fault! You wore that red sweater that day, Rachel."

Mrs. Potter shrieked in embarrassment.

"So we're stuck inside this pathetic excuse for a closet, and she starts calling me a complete tosser."

"You were," she insisted.

"And then we started arguing, completely forgetting the circumstances, the Parapelli brothers hear us, and they charm open the door."

"What happened next?" I asked eagerly.

"Jack stood there like a complete moron while I stunned both of them."

"And then we kept arguing," Mr. Potter added. "Until I asked her out on a date."

"I was so shocked," Mrs. Potter recalled fondly. "I thought you had been Imperiused, or something."

"Well, it's not as though I hadn't flirted with you all three years at the Academy."

"Jack, offering to help me with my Transfiguration was not flirting. It was just annoying. I could never get any studying done with you always flitting around me."

He sighed. "So she said yes, and then the next afternoon I took her to lunch in the Ministry cafeteria."

She laughed as she picked up her wine glass. "It was so romantic with old Carmichael breathing down our necks trying to get us to go back to work."

"And then, about a decade and a half later we had James," Mr. Potter told me. "Accident," he added surreptitiously.

"Dad!" James yelped, the tips of his ears turning red.

I smirked. It was so fun to see James embarrassed. It happened so rarely.

"But that's a story for your next visit," Mr. Potter said.

About an hour or so later, we were standing back in the corridor on our way back home.

I gave both of the Potters a hug.

"Good bye, Lily," Mrs. Potter said as she pulled my hair back and away from my face.

"Bye, Mum," James said as he kissed her on the cheek. "Bye, Dad."

Mrs. Potter sighed. "Now, I know you two don't want to talk about the wedding, but just remember that I'm here for anything you need. Your father and I know some people who can show us some great place, and one of my friend's cousins owns a dress shop in Scotland."

"We'll keep you involved, Mum," James assured her.

"It's just that you're my only son," she said. "I'll only get to do this once." Her voice cracked a bit at the end of her phrase, and she ruffled James's dark hair.

"Mum," James groaned.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly. "I know. I'm just being sentimental."

He sighed and hugged her again. "I'll be back home soon," he promised.

Katy appeared with a large brown sack. "Master Potter, you forgot your tart, sir!"

James sighed sensationally. "How could I have done such a thing?" He bent down and took the bag from her before wrapping his arms around her tiny brown frame. "Take care of them, Kates," he told her. "You're in charge."

She nodded obediently. "Yes, Master Potter, sir."

"James, little Kates," he reminded her with a grin.

He stood back up to his full height and then grabbed my hand with his free one.

"Owl us to know that you got to Lily's house safe!" Mrs. Potter called out to us as we walked toward the gate.

"Yes, Mum."

We exited the Potter Manor, and James turned to look at me apologetically. "I had to tell them about the engagement. I needed Mum to help me get the ring," he said with a nod to my left hand. "And I knew you would freak out if I bought one."

I sighed. "It's okay," I replied tiredly. "We'll just have another confused, furious, and disappointed set of parents on our hands."

"Damn."

Tired from our long days, James and I said goodnight upstairs. It was near eleven, and I really just wanted to go to sleep. Not bothering to turn on the light switch, I stumbled into my dark room and noticed a dark figure sitting on my bed.

"Mum?" I asked.

I turned on the light to see her sitting in her purple floral robe with a sad expression on her face.

"Mum, what are you doing in here? It's late," I told her.

She patted a stretch of quilt beside her. "Sit down, Lily."

I complied with her request and bit my lip in anxiousness. All the distraction of the Potters was completely erased from my mind, and I was Lily Evans again. To be honest, I hadn't really been able to stop thinking about my family, even in the arms of someone else's. I waited for her to speak, but she was silent. "I'm sorry about earlier," I blurted out finally to break the silence.

She remained still.

"We shouldn't have fought at the spa."

"No," she agreed curtly. "You shouldn't have."

"It's just that Tuney was being so-"

"Stop," she interrupted me. "I don't want to hear your excuses anymore, Lily."

I bit back my counter response and fiddled with edge of my pillowcase.

"You've finished school, you're engaged, you're eighteen. I just don't know at what point you'll finally grow up, Lily. I shouldn't have to yell at you for starting a fight with your sister anymore."

I exhaled as I continued to fight the urge to argue.

"And I know that you're capable of holding your tongue because you're doing it right now," she added perceptively. "God, Lily, Petunia is getting married. Could you at least try to be happy for her?"

"Mum," I said finally. "She's marrying Vernon Dursley."

"So?"

"Vernon Dursley," I repeated.

"What's the matter with him?" she asked.

"Mum, you've seen him. You know what he's like. Petunia could do so much better. I can't believe she's settling for some prat."

"He loves your sister."

"He hates me," I replied loudly. I bit my lip and continued in a softer voice. "I can just see it when he looks at me. He hates me because I'm different from him, and Petunia listens. He's like a poison."

"Have you given him a reason to like you, Lily? Have you ever stopped making fun of him for a second and taken the chance to get to know him as a person and not the nefarious villain you've conjured up in your head?"

I ground my teeth together because I did not have an answer for her.

Mum sat in stillness as we both got lost in our thoughts. She shifted on the bed to face the window and began to speak again. "I went for a walk after dinner to clear my head," she told me in a quiet voice. "I walked past the old park by Oak Street. There were a bunch of little ones having fun on the playground. I watched them for a little while when I noticed two little girls on the swings. They were sisters."

Her voice cracked on the word, and she took a deep breath before turning to face me. "I never had a sister. It was just me and Uncle Bill and Uncle Scott. When I was younger, I used to watch all the girls in my neighborhood play with their older sisters. I remember being so jealous because I wanted that. I wanted someone to play with who'd teach me how to curl my hair and put on mascara without poking myself in the eye. I wanted someone to teach me about boys and talk to me about things I wouldn't want to say to my mum. I know what it is that you want."

I sat silently as I felt tears well up in my eyes. I could see the images playing in my mind. I could remember talking to girls at Hogwarts who always had a constant friend and source of guidance. I knew what it felt like to want that too. It was so hard to have that but not to be able to really use it. It was like watching a bright sunny day from a closed window.

"Petunia didn't give you what you wanted," Mum said, speaking slowly as she thought of the right words to say. "You went away, and she wasn't there for you. Afterwards, things were never really the same."

"What was I supposed to do?" I asked hoarsely. "Not go?"

"No," she replied. "But it changed things," she acknowledged. "Your sister has issues, Lily. She's got to deal with them on her own. She's seeing a therapist."

My mouth opened in astonishment.

"There's a lot you don't know about Petunia. There's a lot of things you never saw when you left. She's had a lot on her plate. You don't give her enough credit."

"I try," I told her. "Honestly, I do."

"I know," she told me soothingly as she held my hand in hers, letting the familiarity of her fingers calm me down. "But it doesn't stop the fights in the middle of a crowded spa in front of all of her friends."

I looked down at my hands guiltily.

"I don't understand why you two can't get along. Maybe it's my fault. Your father and I tried to raise you the best we could, but, maybe-"

"Mum," I interrupted her urgently. "You and Dad are the best parents."

"Then why do our daughters hate each other?" she asked tearfully. "Everyone tells me I have such nice girls, but when you're together, I've never seen such viciousness. You do the cruelest things to each other. You're supposed to be sisters."

She paused to take a deep breath to collect herself. "I don't know what's going to happen in the future. Neither of you will want to be in the same room as each other. We won't be able to have Christmas or birthdays or anything together as a family. No one will want to be around you two if you can't behave civilly. Your father and I will either have to pick one of you to have holidays with or just avoid them all together. The two of you will break up the rest of the family."

A tear flowed unto my cheek. "Mum, I, no," I sputtered. I tried to speak, but there were no words.

"I know that your father and I sometimes give you the brunt of the discipline, Lily, but it's only because we know that you can handle it better. You're less sensitive than your sister. It's not fair. I know it's not." She sighed. "I wish I could make it better for the both of you. I wish I could go back in time and force the two of you to braid each other's hair or watch scary movies together. I can't do that. That time has passed. You're never going to have that big sister bond, Lily."

I sucked in a deep breath as more tears slid down my face. My heart ached at her words.

"I know you want it."

I did. I wanted it so badly.

"But it's too late," she continued sadly. "You're eighteen years old now. You don't need someone to play dolls with you anymore. You have to move on."

I let out a tiny sob that had caught in my throat. "I just-" I tried to speak, but I stumbled over the words. "I wanted a big sister." The words ripped through me like a machete. I felt naked at the admittance.

She wiped the tears away from my face. "That's why you resent her so much," she told me. "You look at her and see everything you want but can't have."

"Because she wasn't there for me," I cried. "She cast me aside and wouldn't let me in. I tried so hard, Mum. Whatever she wanted, I was always there for her. Stupid things like getting her a lemonade or watching television with her. I would jump at the chance. And now she's stopped giving me those things."

"Lily, you have to try to form a new relationship with her. She's moving out on Sunday. Things are going to change. You'll have to try being an adult friend to her, if you can't be her little sidekick."

I cried harder and ducked my head into her chest.

She wrapped her arms around me and kissed the top of my head. "You have to let the dream go, Lily. It's the only way you'll ever be able to find some peace. You have to let it go."

Story credits to Molly Raesly