I walked by the front of the house and casually looked to my right. It had been the fourth time I’d walked by that day. Maybe part of me felt bad for bailing on the party the other night. I knew Rose wanted me to kiss her, but I didn’t want to hurt her. She had no idea why I left the party. That a car had been parked out front for twenty minutes, waiting for the perfect time to let me know that it was time to go.

Life wasn’t always what it seemed.

I felt watched, followed, and I felt everything building around me.

Something was going to give, and soon.

I looked down and kept walking.

My mind was muddled and distracted. Too much going on at once.

So much at once that I didn’t stop walking until I smashed right into someone.

It caught me so off guard, I jumped back, looked forward, and saw Rose falling to her butt.

She was standing with her father and her sister, Vivian.

They didn’t have a driveway, so they parked in the parking lot right next to their house.

“Oh, shit,” I called out.

I hurried and dropped to one knee and reached for Rose’s hand.

“Rose. Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

She was as surprised as me.

She looked up to her father.

That’s when I turned my head.

On one knee, holding his daughter’s hand. After I had plowed into her.

“I’m really sorry,” I said to her father.

“You drunk?” he asked.

“What? No.”

“Help my daughter up,” he ordered.

I carefully got to my feet and helped Rose up.

Her father touched her back. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said. Her face was bright red. “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“Jeez, Foster,” Vivian said. “Maybe you should go play football. Tackling someone like that.”

“I didn’t tackle anyone,” I said. “I didn’t mean…”

“Rose, Vivian, go inside,” their father said.

“What?” Rose asked.

“Dad, don’t break them up,” Vivian said. “He’s been stalking the house, looking for her.”

“What?” I called out. “I haven’t been…”

“I’ve seen him,” he said.

I was taller than him, but he was thicker. Not so much muscle, but he had some strength. The cracks of his hands were charcoal black from working on cars all day. And his fingers were huge. Like fingers on steroids.

I took my chances and looked at Rose real quick, right before she walked away with Vivian. The two quickly smashed shoulders together and started to whisper. Maybe they thought I was about to get my ass handed to me.

Hell, maybe they were right.

“Mr. Browmanin,” I said.

“Foster,” he said. “Call me Frank.”

“Right. Frank.”

“How many times are you going to walk by my house?”

“Until I saw Rose.”

“Rose, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You were with her the other night? At that big party?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Party…?”

“Don’t play with me, Foster,” Frank said. “I don’t have time. I’m a single father to two teenage girls.”

“Right. Of course. Sorry about that.”

“Sorry?” Frank raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. For… you know. What happened with your wife. That you’re a single father.”

“Oh.”

He looked pissed. Well, even more pissed.

“Shit,” I said. “Frank. Sorry I said anything. Look, I wasn’t-”

“Let’s go have a chat,” Frank said. “Follow me.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

He led the way from the sidewalk to a stone walkway that ran along the side of the ugly yellow house. There was a thin strip of a garden of yellow flowers with black mulch right against the house. Frank didn’t look like the gardening type.

He lumbered his way to the back of the house. We passed by the wooden steps where I had seen Rose sitting the first time I met her. He stopped at a set of old, rusted storm doors. The kind you’d see people in tornado movies running towards so they could hide from the storm.

Frank took hold of one of the doors and lifted. It squeaked. He pointed down to the darkness. “Get down there, Foster.”

I nodded.

Looks like I was going into the storm.

* * *

It was pitch black as the heavy door shut above us. I heard Frank breathing and the gentle clanking of a chain hitting a light bulb. A quick pull of the chain and the basement now had light.

It was a cold, stone basement.

One wall was stacked with metal shelves filled with paint cans. Over my shoulder, there was a weight bench in the corner with a bunch of old, beat up weights.

“You lift?” I asked and nodded.

“Do I look like I work out?” Frank asked as he patted his round stomach.

“Could be a six pack under there,” I said.

“More like a keg. Follow me.”

We walked around the heating system and Frank went to a tall, black cabinet. He stood there and punched in a code on the lock.

He opened the cabinet and I saw camouflage.

And guns.

He selected a rifle and turned. “So, this is how I envisioned it.”

My eyes went wide. “Envisioned what?”

“The first time a boy came to the house looking for my Rose.”

“Right,” I said. “The whole gun-dad-scare-the-kid thing.”

“Are you scared, Foster?”

“I’m more scared of this basement than that gun.”

Frank grinned. “I used to hunt a lot. Not so much now. No time.”

“Right,” I said. It was the only word that came to mind.

“You were at that party with Rose. She came home and wasn’t all that happy. Care to tell me what happened?”

“No,” I said.

“I get it. Tough guy. I don’t think I have to explain to you what my daughters mean to me.”

“No, you don’t.”

“And I don’t need to explain what I would do to you if you hurt her.”

“No.”

“So you’re dating my daughter?”

“No,” I said.

“No? Then why are we in the basement?”

“You told me to follow you, Frank.”

“Yes, I did,” he said. He turned and put the rifle back into the cabinet. He locked it back up. “I keep dangerous things away from hurting those I love.”

I didn’t respond.

Frank walked to an ugly fridge and opened it. He grabbed two cans of beer. He held his hand out. “Take one.”

“Beer? No.”

“You want a shot of whiskey?”

“No, Frank. I’m good.”

“So you’re the first and only teenager that doesn’t drink?”

“One of a kind,” I said.

Frank put a beer back into the fridge. “Don’t lie to me, Foster. Don’t drink and drive. With or without my daughter in your car. Even if you don’t have a car, don’t get in a car when you’re drunk. If you see my Rose doing anything stupid, you save her. You put your ass on the line for her if you care about her.”

I nodded. “I just wanted to check on her.”

“Why?”

“I’ll be honest, Frank. She caught me kissing a girl at the party.”

“You broke her heart?”

“No,” I said. “Or if I did, I didn’t mean to. I saved her. Party things were going on and I made sure she was safe.”

“Right. And then you started kissing some other girl?”

“It’s not like that, Frank. There was a situation. I had to leave the party.”

Frank nodded. “I know where you come from, Foster. You’re a street punk. Except you don’t fit the part. Which tells me you don’t want the part.”

“Can’t control where we come from.”

“That’s a good answer,” he said. “So here’s what I’ll do. You can stop by and see Rose anytime you want. Front porch. Different chairs. Talk. Laugh. That’s fine with me. I might even toss an extra burger on the grill for you once in a while.”

“Thanks,” I said.

Frank put his unopened beer can down on a table. He walked right to me and put a finger to my chest.

“If you ever need help, Foster, you come to me. Something goes wrong over there where you live, you come to me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“The last thing I need is my Rose to get tied up in any garbage because she’s got puppy eyes for you.”

“I would never hurt her, Frank. She’s a good person. She’s smart. She’s nice. She’s honest. She’s street smart, too. And she’s…”

“What?” Frank asked. “She’s what?”

“Well, she’s pretty. Okay?”

He curled his lip. “I’ll give you that. She looks like her mother.”

I swallowed hard.

He lifted his finger from my chest and slapped his hand to my cheek. Stinging pain shot through my face, but I didn’t flinch.

“Stay smart, Foster. I know you didn’t ask for what you’ve been dealt. Shit, none of us want what we’ve been dealt with. I’ve got two daughters upstairs that have no mother. And you, Foster…”

“No, Frank,” I said. “Don’t play the pity card on me. I can make my way through anything. I just wanted to see Rose for a minute. Let her know that I’m sorry for what happened at that party. If she thought something else… and I wasn’t…”

Frank waved a hand. “Save it for her. If the worst thing that my Rose is going through is some boy she likes kissing another girl, I can live with that. I just don’t want to ever see her cry because of you.”

I nodded.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Go up the steps. That door opens into the dining room. If she’s downstairs, go out on the porch.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks. And, hey, if you ever need help with anything around here. Or the garage. Or whatever. I mean, a set of hands. You know, a guy.”

“A guy,” Frank said with a nod. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I felt foolish. I let that shit slip out too easily. Practically begging for Frank’s attention. He’d never had a son. I’d never really had a father.

Stupid.

I walked away and made it halfway up the steps.

“Hey, Foster,” Frank called out.

“Yeah?”

“How do you like your burger cooked?”

I smirked. “Still walking.”

Frank laughed. “Good man right there. No shoe leather.”

I had gotten the invite for dinner.

I hurried up the steps with a smile on my face.

Amazing… five minutes with Frank and he did more for me than my father had done all my life.

I opened the basement door and Rose spun around in the kitchen. The dining room opened right up into the kitchen area.

“Foster?” she asked.

“Rose,” I said.

“Where’s my father?”

“In the basement still,” I said. I shut the door. “Why?”

“Just asking. He said you could come up here?”

“Yeah.”

“He must like you then.”

“Whatever,” I said. “Can we go out front and talk?”

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about, Foster.”

“I wanted to explain myself about the party.”

“I really don’t care,” she said.

“I do.”

“I don’t,” she said. “You don’t need to stalk my house anymore.”

“So that’s that?”

“Yeah. Why? You got your six minutes, remember?”

I nodded. “Ouch. Well, then I guess I’ll just leave.”

“See you later, Foster.”

I walked out of the dining room and looked back. “For the record, Rose, I wished it was you. And I only held back because I wanted it to be special for you.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“That kiss,” I said. “What you saw. I wished it were you. I thought about you.”

She didn’t respond.

I took a few more steps and looked back one more time. Rose was looking down, biting her lip, smiling.

I left the house that day feeling like a million bucks.

But going home meant living dirt fucking poor.