I'm finally released from the hospital. I sit in my mom's red pick up and sigh. My life is so hectic right now. I still haven't told anyone about the note. The killer could find out and murder me, just to put into a simpler form.

My mom slides into the driver's seat and looks at me warily.

"Are you ready?" she asks, her voice cracking a little. I nod.

She starts the truck and drives home. The entire ride is an anxious silence. My mom's hands grip the steering wheel, and they're chalk white. Her usual relaxed nature is gone. Her hair seems to have more gray in it, more stress lines caress her face, and her eyes have bags under them.  

"Mom?" I ask. "Are you okay?"

She glances at me through the corner of her eye. "Want the truth or a lie?"

"Truth."

She sighs. "No, Callie, I am not okay. My daughter is a suspect, police are watching our every move, and I'm stressed."

I lean my head back against the seat. "Mom," I whisper, "I didn't kill them."

She's quiet. I look at her with tears brimming in my eyes.

"Don't you believe me?" I squeak.

We finally pull up to the house, and she turns off the ignition. She sighs and looks at me.

"Of course I do, honey. With everything going on-"

I cut her off, "You don't believe me!" I wail.

"Callie-"

I get out of the truck and storm inside.

"Callie! Wait!" my mom calls.

I run into my room and slam the door, locking it. My mom pounds on the door, calling my name. I lay on my bed ignoring her and start sobbing.

My own mother doesn't believe me! My own flesh and blood! I thought mom's were suppose to support you and be a shoulder to cry on. I guess I was wrong.

After sobbing for thirty minutes, sleep overtakes me.

~~~~~

A loud ringing awakes me from my slumber. I squint at the brightness in my room and sit up. The ringing, I identify as my phone, keeps ringing. I get off the bed and pick up my phone.

"Hello?" I ask groggily.

"Hey Muffin," a deep voice greets.

"Matthew?" I question, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"Yeah," he answers. "Are you home now?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to head over to my secret place," he answers.

I look at the time, 5:15 p.m. I bite my lip.

"I don't know..."

"Come on, Muffin. It'll be a relaxing place for you," he urges.

I sigh and rub my temples. "Promise?"

"I promise, and trust me: I never break a promise."

I smile slightly and nod to myself. "Alright."

"Cool! I'll be there in twenty," he states, hanging up after that.

I chuckle and put the phone down. Silly boy. I turn and see my appearance in the mirror. I gasp.

My curly hair is tangled and unruly. My usually bright, green eyes are dull and lifeless.

"Like Eddie," I think. 

I shake my head and start brushing my hair. My hair becomes regular again, and I apply a little foundation under my eyes, making me look presentable.

I put my phone in my back pocket and unlock my door. I peek my head through and see no sign of my mom. I hold my breath and tip toe rapidly through the hall. Reaching the front door, I ease it open and step through, not making a sound. The door closes with a soft click, and I smile.

"Hey Callie," a voice pipes.

I jump and turn around. Xaiver leans across our metal fence, separating the houses. I will my heart to slow down and walk over.

"Hey," I reply, reaching the fence.

"What's up? How you feeling?" he asks.

"Um, nothing much, and I feel better," I answer.

"That's cool. Anyway, I was wondering if we could start over," he says.

Wow...straight to the point much?

Why yes.

Oh, shut up.

I sigh tiredly. I am not in the mood for this, nor do I have energy. "Xaiver, no. I'd rather just stay friends. We've literally been friends for like ever, and then suddenly, you want to date me. I gave you a chance, you screwed up, so now you're in the friend-zone," I tell him, annoyed.

Xaiver's blue eyes are wide but sad. He curses silently and puts his head on the fence.

"Callie...it's been more than that," he mumbles.

"What's been more than that?" I ask, confused.

Before he answers, his eyes narrow, and I hear a vehicle pulling into my driveway. I turn around and see Matthew getting out of his Hummer and glaring at Xaiver.

"You ready, Muffin?" Matthew asks, still glaring at Xaiver.

"Yeah!" I call. I look at Xaiver; hurt evident on his face.

"Have fun, Cal," he whispers.

"Xai-"

Without another word, he walks away.

~~~~~~~

Riding in the Hummer with Matthew is kinda awkward. He won't look me in the eye, nor will he even glance at me. His hands are gripping the wheel that they're chalk white. His lips are in a thin line, looking like they'll be permanently sewn into his mouth.

"Matthew?" I ask softly. He doesn't even glance at me, but he keeps driving.

"Matthew?" I ask again, louder this time. He sighs, clearly annoyed.

"What?" he says.

I flinch slightly at the harshness of his voice.

"What's wrong?" I ask cautiously.

"You. You're what's wrong," he answers bitterly.

Ouch, that hurt.

"Look, I don't know what I did, but you don't have to be a douche about it," I say just as harsh.

He hits the steering wheel, and I jump. "Callie, shut up!" he snaps.

"No, Matthew! You're being a jerk for some reason that I am unaware of," I snap back.

"It's because of the jerk next door! Your little, lover boy, next door neighbor! You're oblivious, Callie! He has a thing for you!" Matthew yells, pulling over.

I stare at him in shock. He's getting upset at me because of Xaiver?

"Oh my gosh, I do not have time for three year olds," I state, opening up the Hummer door, but Matthew quickly locks it.

I glare at him. "Open the door."

He glares back. "No."

"Why the freak not?" I snap.

"I have questions to ask you," he says, quieter then before. 

I stare at him and sigh, leaning back into the seat. "Fine."

He nods and eases his way back onto the road. He drives to the secret place with the giant tree, and we get out. I wrap my arms around myself and sit on the bench. Matthew sits on the other end with his hands in his coat pockets.

"So you had questions?" I ask.

Matthew nods. "I met your mom, so where's your dad?" he asks.

My face hardens, and my eyes glaze over. Tears sting in the corners. Matthew notices this and becomes speechless.

"You don't have to answer that," he says quickly.

I sigh and wipe away some tears. "No, we're just getting to know each other better. Well, he's dead," I answer, looking at him.

Matthew's face becomes astonished. "I'm sorry," he states sadly.

I shrug and look at my hands. "Want me to continue?" I ask.

"If you're not comfortable-"

"No, I need to get this off my chest," I admit. "I haven't even told Jacy, and she's my best friend."

Matthew nods and shifts towards me, showing me I have his full attention.

I clear my throat and begin, "Well, about ten years ago, my dad went with my uncle, his brother, to New York. That's where they're from, so they went to visit my grandma. Well, they went and were suppose to stay for a week, but they ended up staying for three months. During that time, my grandma had gotten sick, and she passed away.

"I was devastated. Then a week after her death, my uncle called telling us to come to her funeral. My mom and I flew over two days later, and my uncle met us, looking depressed and mournful. At this time, I was eight years old, so some things were harder to comprehend. He took us to my grandma's house, and we got ready for the funeral.

"The whole time I was wondering where my dad was, but I was a shy kid, and I couldn't speak up for the world. We finally go to the funeral, and there was more people then I still can't even count today. What I realize now, a lot of those people were my dad's friends. They made a path clear for my uncle, mom, and I to walk through, and instead of seeing one casket-there was two."

I finish my story and wipe away fallen tears. I look at Matthew, who seems crestfallen. He opens his mouth to speak, but he quickly shuts it, having no words. We sit in a long silence, with me wiping tears away, and Matthew looking at everything in disbelief.

"I am so, so, so sorry, Callie," he states after a few minutes of silence. "I had no idea..."

I shrug and look at the stars. "It's alright...you didn't know."

He closes his mouth and puts his face in his hands, seeming like he's about to cry.

"Funny thing is, when I peered into his coffin, he had a flower in his hand," I say absent-mindedly.

"What flower?" Matthew asks.

I look over at him with the gears turning in my head.

"A white rose."