"loving yourself is the hardest thing you will ever have to do."

India couldn't stop staring at Jesse. He looked so precious when he slept. His quiet snores made her heart skip a beat.

She ran a finger over his chest, across his shoulder, and down his arm. She couldn't keep her hands off of him.

Last night was different than the night in the woods a year before. Jesse was different. They were different. She could feel him, all of him. She could know what he was thinking, what he was feeling. The connection between them made her body twist in pleasure and agony. She was tied to Jesse, but not to herself.

A gorgeous, caring boy was lying right next to India, and yet, her mind was racing to other things. So many other things.

India couldn't take it anymore. She slowly crawled out of bed, careful not to stir the gorgeous boy. She climbed down the ladder, wincing as it creaked under her weight. Once her feet were securely on the wood panels of the floor, she let out a deep breath.

India stared at the purse in the corner that belonged to her. It didn't hold much, but it was the only thing she brought with her to New York. In it was her wallet, her phone, a tube of mascara and lip gloss, a small hairbrush, keys to her house, and the most important piece of paper that ever came to be in her possession.

She slowly grazed across the floor of the cruddy messy apartment. An insane burst of fear crept through her body, possessing every bone, vein, and cell in her. It almost made her drop to her knees.

Then she looked up at where the boy slept. She could hear soft snores coming from his corner and a smile found its way to her lips. The sleeping boy gave her the courage she needed to close the distance between the bag and her. She had to face her fear, not for the boy. But for her. For them.

The card which once was pristine and neat was now crumpled and ridden with sweat. India wouldn't let it out of her grasp during the entire plane ride to New York. It was her life line. It was her mother. It was hope.

India read over the letter for the hundredth time. She repeated the list of numbers she had etched into her mind.

...

India lifted her father's head and slid a pillow beneath it. She wiped the drool sliding down his cheek that was making its way to the tiled floor of the kitchen.

"India," he slurred. His eyes couldn't open, they were too heavy with the alcohol he had been consuming all day.

"Sleep daddy," she whispered. "I'll wake you up for dinner." Ever so gently, India placed a kiss upon his cheek.

This was a normal occurrence in the Quail home. India would come home from school in the afternoon to find her father passed out somewhere in the house with an empty bottle next to him. She was always strong though. She never showed fear, or disgust, or disappointment. Her father was hurting, and she knew that. She was too.

"Why do you still love her," she cried. Tears began flowing from her cheeks. She was exhausted, she was angry. She wanted a normal father. That woman though, she ruined him. And India had to live with the consequences. "Isn't it hard to love her father? After what she did?"

His eyes fluttered open, finding their way to his young daughters face. A tear fell from the corner of his eye.

"Loving someone is easy," he slurred, barely able to make the words come from his mouth. "Loving yourself though," he paused, letting his eyes close again, "is the hardest thing you will ever have to do."

Snores came from his lips only seconds later. India listened to them as they brought her back to the present.

...

Jesse's snores came and went from the nook above the door as India stared at the card in her hands.

She closed her eyes and took a leap of faith. She hoped this was worth it. It had to be.

India picked up her bag and scurried out of the apartment. She closed the door behind her without pausing, without looking back, because she knew if she laid eyes on him one more time she would be lost to him. Forever.

She ran and ran until her legs brought her to a stop blocks away. People were already rushing around her, ready to start their day. She was ready to start her life.

Now, a voice was telling her. Do it now.

India reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. She didn't have to look at the card to recall the numbers. She had it cemented into her brain.

Her heart stopped beating, her lungs stopped pumping air in and out of her as the phone began to ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hello?"

India began sobbing. Tears ran down her face like a waterfall as the sun began to rise above the New York Skyline. A thousand memories rushed through her mind. A million possibilities came out.

"India!" Her mother echoed her cries through the phone.