"No."

"What? Dad!"

"I said no, Davy."

Rosemary cringed. She was outside the Jones' household, waiting for Davy. She could hear everything he and Mr. Jones were saying. She felt hopeless. Surely, Mr. Jones wouldn't be convinced. He wouldn't let Davy see Rosemary anymore.

"Dad, just because something happened between you and Rosy's father doesn't mean she has anything to do with it," Davy argued.

"Davy!" Mr. Jones spoke loudly, almost shouting, before Davy could spit out another protest. Davy silenced himself. "I don't want you getting involved with that girl. Her father is all about money."

"But she's nothing like-"

"Davy," Mr. Jones said firmly, cutting Davy off. "I'm sorry. But I don't trust that girl."

"Her name," Davy said through clenched teeth, "is Rosemary."

Mr. Jones sighed heavily. Rosemary tensed up. She leaned her back against the wall and stared up at the brilliantly shaded blue sky. Not a single cloud in sight. Nothing disturbed the calm sky other than the birds that flew and wandered aimlessly. All was quiet. Peaceful. If only Rosemary felt that way.

"Davy, I don't want you to see that girl again," Mr. Jones said, sounding as though his decision was officially final. Even worse, he still couldn't utter Rosemary's name. "Is that understood?"

"Dad, I-"

"Is that understood?" Mr. Jones repeated louder this time.

"Dad, you can't... I'm..." Davy stuttered, tripping over his own words hopelessly.

"Davy," Mr. Jones said warningly.

There was no point in trying. Mr. Jones stood his ground. He wouldn't lose this fight, for he was too stubborn. His history with Ronald Ackers had quite the affect on him.

Rosemary couldn't stand hearing him and Davy yell and argue with each other for much longer. Quickly, she pushed herself up from her lean against the wall and briskly sped away from the house. Her silvery green eyes burnt with hot tears. She fought to keep them back as she hastily fled down the sidewalk. Her aching heart was beating frantically against her chest, it felt like it was hammering.

Finally, she reached her home. She fumbled to open the door, and once she did, she stumbled inside. She slowly headed towards the living room, where her father was seated, his legs crossed together. A mug of hot black coffee was in hand. The steam swirled from the top of the dark liquid. He was a well-dressed and giddy sort of man.

"There's my little flower," he smiled once he took notice of Rosemary.

"Hi Dad," she mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Where've you been?" Mr. Ackers asked. "Carol called thirty minutes ago."

"I was with Davy," Rosemary responded hesitantly.

Mr. Ackers's bright, happy smile quickly vanished and turned into a frown. "Rosemary," he said irritably. "I told you I didn't like you hanging out with that boy."

"So?" Rosemary glared. "Just because you don't like him doesn't mean I have to as well." She had never spoken to her father like that, and the fear that had welled up inside her doubled. But she refused to back down.

Mr. Ackers stared at her incredulously. "Young lady, I will not be spoken to that way!" he hissed, now on his feet.

"I don't freaking care!" Rosemary shot back. "You can't change my mind, Dad!"

"Rosemary Dawn Ackers!" Mr. Ackers shouted. Rosemary flinched at the sound of her full name. "I won't tolerate that horrible attitude of yours! That had better change! You're a lady, you shouldn't be talking like that!"

"I have every right to!" Rosemary yelled angrily. "It's all your fault! If you hadn't bullied Davy's father in the first place, I could actually be with him!"

Mr. Ackers glowered at his daughter. "Who told you about this?"

"Davy," Rosemary folded her arms.

"So you'll believe your pretty boyfriend and not your old man?" Mr. Ackers narrowed his eyes.

"Honestly, Dad," Rosemary's voice rose to a shout once again, "Davy's much more truthful than you'll ever be!"

Mr. Ackers's eyes flared like fire. He was practically shaking with rage. He raised his hand and struck Rosemary across the face. The impact of it made Rosemary's head snap to the side. A bright shade of light red glowed upon her cheek where her father had slapped her.

Tears blurred her vision as she slowly peered back up at Mr. Ackers, whose hand slowly fell back to his side. His eyes were wide in shock, as he had never hit his daughter before, until now. He stepped forward and reached out, but Rosemary hastily backed away.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Don't ever... touch me."

She whirled around and sprinted out of the living room. She pushed the front door open and, ignoring her father's desperate calls for her, fled from her home. She raced down the street and rounded a corner, tears and sobs escaping her.

It was ironic. A year back, Rosemary wished to marry someone just like her father. But now, looking at who he truly was, she wanted to be with someone who was the exact opposite. Someone kind. Caring. Loving.

Someone like Davy.

Rosemary frantically pounded on a door once she reached the house. Seconds later, it flew open, revealing an alarmed looking Carol Hays.

"Rose?" she gasped as Rosemary fell into her arms, breaking down into loud, uncontrollable sobs. "Jesus Christ!" She kicked the door close with her foot and lead her best friend to her kitchen.

"Carol!" Rosemary cried.

"What happened?" Carol said, bewildered. She helped Rosemary sit down by the kitchen table. "Rose-"

"I need a place to stay."

Rosemary finally settled in Russell's home. Her home now. Though she needed new clothes, as the rest of them had burned down with the apartment. Rosemary's face twisted, like she had tasted something sour. She resisted the urge to cry, as she had done that a lot already that day. Her eyes were red and puffy and dried out. Her cheeks were blotched. Her midnight-black hair was messy and tangled. The clothes on her back were wrinkled and slightly worn-out. Christ, what a day.

"I need to get a few things," Russell informed her that day. "Tomorrow, we'll buy you some clothes. Do you want to come with me?"

"No," Rosemary shook her head with a weak smile. "I'd rather stay. It's been a long day."

"Alright," Russell replied. "If you want anything to eat, there're some biscuits in the fridge. And you can watch anything you want on the telly."

"Thank you," Rosemary said gratefully.

Russell leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I'll be back soon."

And with that, he closed the door behind him and left. Rosemary gazed around the house in wonder. She truly was exhausted and didn't really want to do anything. Sleep was an option. But... she was hungry.

With that thought in mind, she dragged her heavy, tired body to the kitchen. She switched the radio on and turned to the stove to brew some tea. In all honesty, she loved the silence that danced and crept around in the house. It was peaceful and quite calming.

I wanna be free,

Like the bluebirds flying by me

Like the waves out on the blue sea

Rosemary swayed her head from side to side as the slow music soothed her. She poured the tea into a mug and brought out the biscuits from the fridge.

If your love has to tie me,

Don't try me,

Say goodbye

Such a gorgeous voice. Soft, deep, lovely. She dipped her mouth into the mug and slurped the warm, heated goodness. Her shivering body relaxed as warm chills ran down her arms and legs.

I wanna be free,

Don't say you love me,

Say you like me

Rosemary choked on her tea. Her eyes widened in sudden shock and realization. She knew that voice.

But when I need you beside me,

Stay close enough to guide me

"Stop," she whispered. "Stop it. No!"

The mug slipped through her shaking fingers and plummeted to the ground. The glass shattered into pieces and scattered everywhere across the floor. The dark tea spilled and spread around the tiles.

Ignoring the mess, Rosemary struggled to switch the radio off.

"Shut up!" she shrieked.

I wanna hold your hand-

She finally managed to switch it off. Her crying resistance failed. She sobbed into her hands, wetting her palms with salty tears. Why me? Why did this have to happen now?

Once she slowly composed herself, she went down on her knees and cleaned up the mess.

***

Peter, Micky, and Mike stared at Davy, mouths dangling open in shock. Davy clasped his hands together and nervously watched them, waiting for one of them to break the uncomfortable, squirming silence. He had just told them everything about that girl he once knew. Rosemary.

Micky was the one to break the silence, much to Davy's relief.

"You were right," he said. "That was a long story."

Mike nudged him in the ribs with his elbow and gave him a heated glare. Micky winced.

"Did you actually do that?" Peter asked in surprise.

Davy bit his lower lip and slowly and hesitantly nodded.

"Why?"

"I was young and stupid, alright?" Davy tried to defend himself, but to no avail. The guilt that he felt before was back again, and it was utterly painful.

"Don't feel so down, man," Mike soothed. "Maybe it just wasn't meant to be."

"Maybe," Davy shrugged. "Or maybe it was, and I just screwed up."

"Well, there's really only one way to find out," Peter said quietly.

"Yeah?" Davy peered up at him. "What's that?"

"You just wait," Peter responded. "If it wasn't meant to be, then she won't come back to you. If it was, you'll see her again someday."

If you love someone, set them free.

Davy stared at the carpet in deep thought. Perhaps Peter was right. If Rosemary did belong to him, she'd come back. It's been two years since he's last seen her. How long would it take for him to know whether he and Rosemary belonged together or not?

"May as well wait it out, then," he mumbled.

"It's really the only option," Peter nodded. "I don't think you'd want to fly around the world, trying to find her, right?"

"I could," Davy mused.

"Shut up."

Heeeyyy... it's been awhile hasn't it?
Hehehehehehehehe sorry