I've cried every day since they left. I give myself only ten minutes to purge my sadness, no more, and only once a day.

I cry in private where no one else can see.

I do this so when Xander asks others about me, they don't tell him I've been crying because I miss him.

I do this so I don't do it while I'm talking with this boy I've loved forever.

I don't just miss Xander, though I do miss him the most. I also miss the guys and my brother. The rowdy boys who filled the house full of chaos and laughter.

When I'm done crying, I carry on. I go to school and then I paint. I paint and paint and paint, working on this piece for the competition. It's vibrant and bright. Mrs. Stark says it's brilliant.

But this one that I'm working on at home? It's about music, with a large black vinyl record in the middle, random music notes, random colors, lots of red and black and gray. For me, this is dark. I'm normally one to use bright, vibrant colors. But this one is for Falling Down. Their colors are red and black. White and grey fill in the rest for me. I'm considering adding a huge line of hot pink down the middle.

I smirk.

But no. I form the letters, making them abstract and gritty. I wonder what they'll think of this when they see it.

There's a knock at the studio door—well, it's a room, really. Dr. Mac set up the sunroom for me to paint in. The room is all glass windows and beauty.

I turn, setting down my brush and palette, using the cloth I have nearby to wipe my fingers.

"Hi, Dr. Mac," I greet with a smile. No matter how I'm feeling, he makes me smile because, to me, he's one of the best men I know.

"Tera. I just wanted to pop in and see how things are coming along. I missed you at dinner," he informs me.

He's been coming home earlier so he can eat with me. I told him that's not necessary, but he insisted. So, Mrs. M moved suppertime from five-thirty to six-thirty and we now eat as a family. It's so different. It's polite and quiet. No swears or rude comments. No belching.

Just me, Dr. Mac, and Mr. and Mrs. Martinez. They've been trying to get me to call them by their first names, but it doesn't seem right. When I take the plunge, I'll call them Mom and Dad.

"Wow," he exclaims when he sees what I'm working on. "That's fantastic, Tera."

"Thanks. I'm almost finished."

He nods, hands in his pockets as he stares at the canvas.

"Are you going to give them this?"

"I don't know," I reply, shrugging a shoulder. And I don't. I didn’t do this for them. I did it for me.

"They'd love it. I think they'd take the lettering and work it into their logo. It's much better than the boring graphic they've got now."

"Hmm. Maybe. Maybe I'll draw a logo and see what they think. This… this was just me getting it all out on the canvas."

He nods again.

"I've been considering painting a hot pink line down the middle, maybe a lightning bolt," I snicker.

"Hot pink?" Dr. Mac chuckles. "That's one way to take out your aggression."

I laugh. "It's not really aggression. It's… in some ways I think the success of the band will replace me in Xander's life. In some ways it already has, but what I fear the most is he finds more happiness making music and touring than he has with me."

"Is that why you said no?"

"Partly. Mostly because I want to see what happens with three months apart. It's been three weeks. I did get to go see him for the weekend, most of which he was busy, but I got to see what them being on tour is all about and everything they go through and deal with at each show. It's a lot. They may not set up and break down, but they need to practice a lot, get the sound just right. Linc works his magic with the board, but he said some of the acoustics are shit, and the outdoor venues they have to just go with a standard setting."

"That must frustrate the hell out of him, " Dr. Mac mutters with a smirk.

I nod. "It totally does."

I stare at the canvas with him. I wonder what he sees. Everyone who stares at a painting sees something differently. It's all about their perspective. As much as I'd like them to see what I'm feeling, I still hold back with this piece. Those feelings are too raw.

"Go on with what you were saying," he prods.

"Well, we text and talk when we can. I get more time to text at certain times than he does and he gets more time at others. We can't seem to connect at the same time, but that's okay. We still connect, you know?"

"But?"

"But no matter how close we try to stay, he's still so far away. I see his face when we Skype, but it's not the same. I miss all of them. The house is too quiet."

Dr. Mac nods his agreement. "It is. It's taking some getting used to."

"How did Mr. Nichols talk the Kingstons into letting Jesse and Ben go on tour?" I ask, curious. I never did ask.

"Money. With them it's always money. It's how they were able to be on the show," he informs me with a look of derision.

I nod. "Sounds about right. At least they got to go. Mr. Nichols is very young to own a record company."

He nods. "He is, but when I talked to him he mentioned taking over for someone, essentially buying out a mediocre record company and turning it around. He's got a good head for business."

"I bet in five years he has a huge company. That'll be great for the guys."

"I worry about them. I worry they'll get in with the wrong crowd and do things they shouldn’t, get into trouble."

"They won't, Dr. Mac. You know, they all made a pact to not go down that path. With Kennedy's mom, Ethan's mom, and my mom, they saw firsthand what destruction the hard drugs bring with their high. We all decided it's not worth it," I tell him.

His brow lifts and he smiles. "I'm glad. Thank you for telling me. That helps."

"I thought you knew about that already. I'm sorry I didn't mention it sooner. It's not a secret. It's something we're all pretty proud of."

"And you should be. I'm just realizing you're not kids anymore. You're grown ups, but you've been making grown-up decisions for quite some time already, haven't you?" he questions.

"Yes," I answer with a shrug. "It's just how it was, so we did what we needed to."

"I wish you'd all had better childhoods. I tried my best, but some things can't be forgotten," he offers.

"No, they can't, but Dr. Mac, you took care of us. You loved us and gave us a place to call home. We never had a home like this."

At his questioning look, I elaborate.

"We had a house to go to, but never a home. Home is where you're loved. Home is where you feel safe. Home is where happiness and laughter begin. We all had that here. Please don't think you didn't do enough. You did so much."

He pulls me into a hug. "And I'll keep doing it. Come to me when you're lonely, Tera. I'm here. I miss them too."

I sigh. "Okay."

"We'll find a way to get through it."

"We will."

* * *

"Hey, baby," Xander says by way of greeting when I answer the phone.

"Hey, you! You're calling me early," I murmur softly as I exit the classroom. Funny how they never question me when I leave without permission.

"I had a few minutes and I wanted to talk to you about something."

The tone in his voice… something about it sets me on edge.

"What's going on?"

"Well," he says flatly, "I heard you and Shea got invited to the winter formal."

"Yeah, so what about it? I'm not going."

"I think you should."

"I'm not going to formal alone." That's pathetic.

"That's not what I meant. Bear with me."

"Okay." I'm hesitant but I'll hear him out.

"I was thinking, since I can't be there, maybe you should go to formal with someone else."

"No fucking way. What's wrong with you?" Now I'm pissed.

"Just listen, Tera."

"I don't want to listen."

"Do it anyway—for me."

"That's not fair."

"I don't play fair, you know this."

I huff, as I lean against one in a long line of lockers.

"It's formal, T. It's a huge deal. I know it is, even to you."

"Maybe."

"No maybe. It is. I was thinking, if you and Shea were to go to formal on a sort of double date but only with guys I think are okay, then I'd be okay with it—seeing as I can't be there."

I can hear the sadness in his voice. He's despondent and I don't like it.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? I trust you. I want you to have all the moments you deserve even if I’m not there to share them with you. You deserve to have those moments, T."

"Xan, you know this won't be okay. If I go to formal with someone else, you're going to be clenching your teeth and fists the entire time. You're also going to be distracted while you're up on stage. I happen to know you have a show that night. I checked," I inform him.

"I never said I'd like it. This isn't about me. This is about you. You're there and you need to live your life, and in this case, it means going to formal with someone else. I won't lie, Tera. I hate it. I hate not being able to take you. It pisses me off to no end that some other guy will get to experience this with you, but just because I can't go doesn't mean you shouldn't. That's not something that sits well with me."

"Xan," I whisper, unsure what to do.

"Do this for me, Tera. You already missed homecoming. I don't want you to miss this, too."

"I have no idea who I would even want to go with, babe. I'm not kidding."

He sighs. "It's good to know you don't picture other guys in my place."

I huff. "Do you picture other girls in my place?"

"Never. Not for a minute."

I crouch down, resting my forehead on my knees. "You don't ever think of being with other girls?"

"No."

"Not sexually? Like, a quick fuck?"

"Tera. No. I told you…"

"Yeah, yeah, you told me. But now you're there and you’re living that life. I don't know about the rest of the guys, but I know that for sure Jesse's doing hookups. You don't get tempted?" I ask. This is something I've wondered. Does he get tempted?

"Listen, T. I don't even look. If Jesse or any of the guys hook up, they don't bring it around me."

"But they hang on you backstage. I've seen it for myself."

"They don't smell like jasmine."

That's the sweetest thing.

"Now, please, for me, go to formal."

"You're not going to let up, are you?"

"No. I want this for you, T. I know you're not going because I'm not there. Otherwise, you'd already be shopping for a gown."

"Maybe. But I have no idea who I'd even consider going with."

"Do you want me to pick someone for you?" he asks and I screw up my face.

"I don't know."

"I won't pick anyone you wouldn't want to go with."

"I…"

"It's settled. I'll find someone for you to go with to winter formal. Find a gown, Cinderella. If your Prince Charming can't be there, you'll just have to settle for some guy wrapped in tin foil instead."

I snicker at that. "We'll see who you come up with. Then I'll let you know."

"Fair enough. I have to get going. We have practice in ten minutes."

"Okay." I can't hide my disappointment.

"I'll call you tonight. It'll be late."

"Okay."

"I fucking love you, Tera."

I laugh through tears. "I fucking love you too, Xander."

He hangs up and I let a few tears fall. No pity party for me right now. That's later, in private. I wipe my tears and tilt my head back against the locker, taking a deep breath. I barely stop the squeak of surprise in time when I notice Carter standing across the hall, leaning against the lockers, watching me.

"Carter," my hand flies to my chest, "you scared me."

"Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he replies, walking over and sitting down next to me.

I nod. "I'm okay. I just miss them."

He nods. "I heard what you were saying, Tera, and if you want to go to formal, I'd love to take you—as friends." He grins a half grin.

"I'm not sure Xander would approve," I admit.

"I think he will." Carter pulls out his phone and dials.

"How did you get his number?" I ask, eyes wide in shock.

"He gave it to me."

What the hell?

"Xan, yeah, it's Carter. No, she's okay. Yeah. Anyway, I heard what you were talking about. Fuck off, I'm not a stalker."

At that I laugh.

"I thought if you wanted someone you could trust to take Tera to formal, I'd do it. Yeah. As friends. No. No, you don't have to worry about that," Carter says, watching me out of the corner of his eye. "Dude, shut up. No fucking way, man. If anything bad happens you can kick my ass. I'll let the others hold my arms."

I watch intently as Carter, one of the kindest boys on the planet, talks to the man I love more than life.

"Good. It's settled. Sure. Have at it. Less work for me," Carter chuckles. "Screw you, drummer boy."

He hangs up.

"He's all for it."

"What was all that?"

"He told me I better not even think of kissing you or touching you in other than a brotherly manner. I told him not to worry, I won't. Truth is, I know you'd punch me in the face if I did, and I don't want to have to get a nose job like Amy."

I snicker. "She had it coming."

"She did." He rests his hand on my wrist as I twirl my phone. "Hey. He wants to plan everything for us, down to the corsage and boutonniere."

I sigh and roll my eyes. "That guy."

Carter nods, looking down. "I wanted to kill him when you chose him."

I turn my head and look at his profile. He really is a hottie. He's got that sexy swagger guys get when they're confident in their own skin and know what they want from life. I find that super attractive.

He stands up and I follow suit.

"He's a good guy, Tera. He wants you to have a good time and be happy. He'd be here if he could, but since he can't, I'd really like it if you'd go with me," he asks, watching my reaction.

I smile softly. "Yes, Carter. I'll go with you." I lean over and hug him. He, hesitantly, wraps his arms around me too. "Thank you for this."

He nods. "It'll be one of our last memories."

I grin up at him. "I don't think it'll be the 'last' of anything if you're heading to NYU."

His eyes widen. "You're going to NYU?"

I nod. "It's my first choice. Shea's too."

"That's fucking awesome!" he shouts.

Mr. Perkins peeks his head out the door. "How about you two be… awesome in class?"

I snicker and Carter chuckles.

"Sorry, Mr. Perkins."

"Mhmm. I've heard it all before." His tone is stern, but he's smiling.