*Charlie's P.O.V *

Leo has stopped responding to my calls. I can't help worrying. I promised him that I'd be safer, but what's the point of that? Here I am in front of a coffee shop, in which Mia is giggling with her aunt, and I am happy for her.

Leo's solution may be the best.

Suppressing the urge to bite my nail, I pay attention to the newspaper stand. I wonder about the news back in my country. I am not thinking... What's there to think about? I don't know how Leo's safety is assured.

A part of me wants to walk in and interrupt her aunt. I would tell her that Leo's dad kills people. I would tell her everything.

I have a chance to fix it now. I can walk in there and tell her.

But Leo said I should stay away. What's going to happen to him if I do this? I don't know... I'm scared for him.

So I say goodbye to Mia, and when her aunt texts me -

"Thank you, kid. We still need to talk about Maria. I just need the killer's name."

I don't reply.

*

*Mia's P.O.V *

After meeting Aunt Joe, I feel at ease. The stress of school and band rehearsals doesn't even get to me.

Then the next best thing happens when I get home - she is there! Right at my front step.

"Hi, dear!" Aunt Joe quirks.

"Hi. How did you find me?!" I wonder because I forgot to give her my location in our last encounter.

"Oh, your friend, ur, Charlie. " She sits opposite me. "That reminds me - how is he?"

"Actually, I don't know," I admit.

"Why? You should call to find out how he's faring."

I shrug at her concern. "I don't have a phone."

"Oh, then I'll get you one." As if to back her rich vibe, her no-nonsense bag lands on her lap. "Ok, what else do you need?"

My eyes dilate. Within a stupendous moment, I question reality. "... Money?"

"How much?"

"Oh my..." I trail off. She's already counting a wad of cash from the bag. I blink hard as she hands it to me. "It's not that much, but I hope it can do for the meantime."

"Wow. Thank you."

She smiles. Upon my subsequent request for her to shed more light on my dad, the smile slips a bit. "Which part?"

"The part where you were like, he was framed."

"Oh, ok." Her upper body leans in. "Is here not too ur-?" She frowns at the kitchen; I must give it to her for not falling for Aunt Lisa's pretentious meekness.

We climb up to my room. She seems surprised to find my walls empty except for the calendar. Even that I have only to track the days left till the competition. I cancel out today as her gaze ambles for any hint of my personality. Little does she know what my room back in Dad's apartment looked like - Dad used to call it a haven for all phases; 'emo', athletics, country, etcetera.

She sits on the mirror chair. "Well, your dad was framed for drug dealing. I don't know if he ever saw the drugs and ran off with them or left them somewhere before coming to this country, but either way, he could have gotten in a hot mess, so I don't blame him. As a South American, he already looked like the perfect candidate to accuse."

Afterwards, she gives me a sympathetic sigh and asks, "Why was he in prison?"

"Embezzling," I reply. "Why, you think he didn't do it?"

"Yes, I mean ... he wouldn't do that. Hold on."

"I couldn't get a scholarship to my school, so," I admit.

She waves off my shame to type on her phone again. "It's not you, hon. I'll figure it out, but don't think it's your fault."

I act cool, although it feels like she just lifted a monstrous heap of crap from my chest. Enlivened, I open the door to check if the coast is clear, stride over to my wardrobe, and push it with all my might.

"What are you doing?" She questions as I start peeling off the 'paint'. A rectangular hole evolves, and I pull out the suitcase. Her eyes widen as I brush the dust off it.

"This," I say, opening the suitcase. She comes to my side and frowns.

I fret. "Why, am I in trouble-"

"No, no, no, I'll just send it back and handle everything. I'm a cop, so don't worry. "

Thank goodness. I am relieved until she inquires, "You haven't shown or given some to anyone, have you?"

Yikes! "Ur, some guys I work with."

"Hm. Where?" She cuts me off.

"Ur..."

"Mia," she says meaningfully, "I've been in situations where kids rat out others and cause their friends to spend years of imprisonment. So, trust me, whatever you say now could help me protect you. I'm not gonna arrest whoever you told or do any harm. Ok?"

Ok, now, I'm worried. I frown.

There's a pause.

"Never mind, I'll just send this to Moscow." She zips it. My resolve softens as she turns to smile at me.
Before tension seeps in again, I ask, "Ur, when will you be back?"

"That'll depend on my higher-ups."

"But you can come for my competition, right?"

She looks up. "When?"

"Next two weeks Saturday."

"Ok," she says to my excitement, "I'll try and see if I can come for you. What time?"

"Oh, in that case, like six-ish in the morning," I quirk, jumping a little. She smiles and gives me a motherly hug. "Focus on that then. Good luck."

Goodwill to you too.

That said, she leaves my room and then the house with the suitcase. As I wave her goodbye, Aunt Lisa appears in the hall.

"Here." I whirl around to give her some of the cash. "For the money I lost. Keep the change."

My foster mom gawks at me, then walks away, murmuring, "Oh, fuck her."

*

*Charlie's POV*

Two weeks later, I still haven't heard from Leo. I am trying my best not to get worried. Meanwhile, Sydney is talking about the pictures Leo took of me and a modelling career ahead...

"... You're meeting Halima's fashion folks today?" Sydney quirks as I flip some pancakes.

My head shakes. She poses in front of me and asks, "How do I look?"

"Fetching. Your face is -"

"Still glowing, yeah, yeah -" She cuts me off. "I'm talking about the dress."

"It's a cute lace dress. Red suits you."

"I don't want cute. I want perfect."

"Sydney, you are perfect."

"Boy, does it look like I don't know? I'm referring to the dress." She ruffles her blown out curls. "Where is that troublesome friend of yours when I need him?"

Speak of the lad, and his ride will purr into your vicinity. She checks if it's him, enabling me to plop my pancake on her plate. The second Harry enters, he squeals.

"GODDAMN!"

"Harry, none of that language in my household."

"Sorry. Nice attire, ma'am."

Smirking to that, Syd returns to her room after tasking him to ensure I eat.

"Pancakes!" He forgets the task. I get him maple syrup, and he makes it drizzle all over them. "Aww, all these for me?"

"Don't eat too fast." I laugh. He nods, yet gorges them. I desert him for Sydney's room to confirm, "I can still go for Harry's competition, right?"

"Sure."

"And can I kindly for my meeting... with the photographer after?"

Her eyes narrow cynically. "So you are dressed for that in a jumper?"

"I'll change after the competition."

"You better. I know you can do better."

Now is my turn to narrow my eyes. I turn around to leave, but then she mutters. "You can't buy her freedom."

I freeze. She shakes her head. "If you're in this modelling thing because of her, stop it."

"Sydney, please -"

"Go support your friend, now. Go. Go."

I sigh only for a door's creak startles me.

Guessing it's Harry, I enter my bedroom to find him seated quietly. He points to his throat as if to say he's coming to vomit, but I catch sight of his jeans pocket.

"Give it to me," I say calmly.

He gulps. I stretch my hand. I don't move closer. He mumbles something, then handshakes me. When he lets go, his pills are in my palm again.

No bite.

*

When we hit the road, I watch him closely. He eases into a highway, and I wonder aloud. "Are you...?"

"Nervous?" He squints. "Kinda."

I nod to that, and he sighs, "Father Bernard would have been like: "Beloved, just make sure you've done the work." As if that guarantees success."

His dark hair floats with the wind as he offers me a glance.

I shrug. "I don't think he meant it in that sense. He was saying that faith works with action. If you believe you'll win, you do what's needful. The doing part is where the feeling of achievement flows from most."

He spares me another look, and I wiggle my brows. His head shakes. "So if I enjoyed the process, I should excel."

"No, you should learn. We can learn from both success and failure, and since neither is final, I feel that what is learned is the best reward; it can build your foundation while your medals gather dust somewhere."

This old man can't keep up with your talk." He points to himself.

"You are not old," I say.

"Aww, thanks. " He shoots me a goofy grin. "Love you, son."

"Ew." I cringe.

Rolling how eyes, he informs me, "I'll have to join the girls when we get there, so you can... sit with my friends. They'll take good care of you since you're my son."

Instantly, I sit up and beam.

He laughs. "Aren't you gonna say 'ew'?"

"Ew." I look away, struggling to hide my excitement. Finally, I get to meet his friends and, possibly, hang out in school... Right?

*

True to his word, after we pass the university entrance, he hollers at the usual two guys. They wave back before going inside. Harry hops out as if he's been on the campus long enough to see the spectacular metal screened halls as birdhouses; I just hope not to get lost.

"Ah, where are they?" He makes us trek in search of his bandmates. I keep to his side despite my difficulty at meeting anyone's face. If the girls are in a crowd, I am not even trying.

He takes my hand before large students knock me out. "Let's go get the best seats in the house."

Little do I know that said house has a seating of over a thousand. My nose reacts to wax-based polish and air-conditioning. We approach the stall overlooking a dim-lit stage the size of a lake.

Charlie, stop it...

"Sup, man," Harry cuts my reverie. I freeze while he buddy-shakes his ginger friend. "This is Caleb and -" He points to the one in a varsity jacket. "Josh. Guys, this is Charlie. Charlie, say something."

"Something - no, ur, I mean -" Before I can rehash the response I've prepared, Josh gasps, "Aren't you in Mr. Henley's senior class?"

Should I speak or...? I nod. Caleb gasps. "Wait, you're the newbie that Rexha was talking about."

"Yep," Harry confirms to my confusion. "Rexha is in your class. She's always going to school press meetings. She was complaining that you're already the teacher's favourite."

Now, it makes sense. I frown upon her jealousy - though, to be fair, Mr. Henley stressed her on my first day - then switch to a shy wave.

Harry instructs, " Watch over him -"

"Why, how old is he? Five?"

"And a bajillion times your net worth." He rolls his eyes at Caleb. Funnily, Josh squints as if it's possible for me to be that age.

I flush. Someone, get me out of this situation.

"Hey, babe!" My wish is fulfilled. We all snap our focus to the voice, and I wince.

"Oh -" Her embrace surprises Harry. The Josh guy vanishes. Caleb shrugs at me, and I follow him up the mezzanine until I blurt. "She's the one."

"What one?"

"...Blood on her hands." I turn back. In an instant, I'm grabbing Harry's hand just as he almost leaves with her.

"Hold on. I'll come." He tilts from her to me. She shoots me a threatening glower before pecking him on her way out.

I shake my head. "You're not going anywhere with her."

"Charlie, what's the problem?" He questions. I hesitate.

"Your girl." Josh reappears to inherit his befuddled stare. I nod.

"Why?"

"Ur-"

"Charlie, what are you say-"

"We'll talk about it later," the conventionally handsome wizard interjects with a side-eye on me. "Let's go to the car park; the girls are here."

I move in the opposite direction from them. Returning to Caleb at the mezzanine, I sit beside him and read. The auditorium is empty, so there's hardly any distraction for two splendid hours, thirteen minutes, and twelve seconds. Thirteen, if not for someone yelling, "Charlie!!!"

"Isn't she calling you?"

I shrug.

"Charlie, I know you're here! I'm coming for my Nancy Drew! I know it was you who took it yesterday!"

"Borrowed," I correct lowly, stashing the book in Caleb's tote bag, causing him to whisper-laugh. He should stop laughing. He'll make her find us.

"Who's that?!" I see her scalp first, then she almost looks up, but Anna grabs her arms.

As she's pulled back outside, Caleb chortles, " I remember her. I think she's..." He stops scratching his frizzy hair, "Josh's ex?"

My eyes widen, making him chuckle, "And if they're alike, which I suspect, you better return her book."

I don't know what that is supposed to mean, but I remove the book, then think, whatever the case, I'm not bothered. I've scarier stuff to think of. "I don't care."

Caleb's jaw drops. I continue reading.

He gasps," Joshua!..."

I reposition my earmuffs.

"What?!" Josh's head shows up.

"Come and see the face the guy made!" Caleb hollers.

"Just take care of him." Josh reverts to wherever he is heading.

I shake my head at Caleb, and he jokes, "Na, bro, never look at anyone like that unless you know what you want. You have to leave some chicks for us."

"I wasn't making a face," I press." Chicks, as in girls, right?"

He nods, and I recall when Leo obliviously used that word to refer to Syd. The trip feels like a forever ago. How did we get here? How is he? Where is he?

I close my eyes. When they open, people are trooping in. Many seats are filled. Perhaps the programme is about to start. I notice other schools based on their uniforms. I get up.

"Where are they?"