A little over a week passes before Riley's back at school.

I hate it. I hate everything about it. She's not ready to go back yet. She's unsteady on crutches and I've seen the hallways at Glen Springs High. They're too narrow. She could be knocked down, jostled around, or who knows what else. Her leg won't have a chance to set properly, and she'll have to get surgery.

I know it's the worst-case scenario. I know kids break bones and go back to school in their casts all the time. I did it. Twice. But I flipped myself over the handlebars of my bike and fell out of a tree for those two times. I didn't crash another kid's car into a guard rail.

Then again… she was seconds away from snapping yesterday. Bored out of her mind and making it impossible for me to focus on the backlog of work I have to complete to have any hope of paying off the cost of the medical bills and the hike in insurance.

The doctor said she was good to go back as soon as Monday so long as she took it easy. I kept her home until Wednesday, by which point the novelty of being out of school had worn off. Probably because she was still very much grounded.

The whole thing just gives me a weird feeling of vertigo, and as I spend all day Wednesday worrying about Riley and waiting for that call from the school nurse saying she somehow cracked her cast open and screwed up her leg even more, I find myself wishing Jake were here.

It's not the first time. It's not even the second. Or the fiftieth. It's pretty much been a constant state for me since that night at the hospital, when I told him I had to handle things on my own.

And I have, but if I were being graded on how well I've handled things over the past week, I'd probably get a C-. Passing, but not by much. I put on a brave face for Riley, handle everything that needs to be handled, but when I'm alone like this…

When I'm alone like this, I really wish I wasn't. And I can't even feel bad about it or weak or anything else. I need Jake here. I need his unwavering support, his warm humor, his freely offered affection.

All of that could only be a phone call away. With Jake suspended, I know he's either home or working at the ranch. I could call him, apologize, tell him how much I need him, and then…

Probably be rejected outright, which would only be fair.

It's not something my heart can handle. Not right now. So instead, I try to focus on my work, looking at the clock every ten minutes or so and growing more and more agitated as time seems to crawl by.

I give up around 2:30 and just head over to the school to pick up Riley, knowing I'll have to wait at least ten minutes for the last bell to ring, a good ten minutes for her to get to her locker and then come outside, and probably another five minutes for us to actually be able to leave the parking lot. But it doesn't matter. It's better than being at home alone.

Just as I guessed, Riley comes out around 2:50, and to my pleasant surprise, she's actually using her crutches the way she's supposed to be, not half-assing it like I've seen her do around the house when she thinks I'm not looking. She spots my car and heads over. I get out and help her put her crutches in the backseat.

"Jesus, Dad. Were you that worried about me?"

The annoyance I expect from a question like that isn't there. She just sounds amused, and one glance at her confirms my suspicions. Seems my daughter actually missed me today, too.

Either that or she's just in a good mood.

"Maybe," I admit, moving around the front of the car to get back to the driver's seat.

"How was your first day back?" I ask. "Any pain?"

"A little." I hear the click of her seatbelt, and I shift into drive to get ready to move up in line. "I didn't really feel like going up to the nurse's office to get my meds, though."

"So you just spent all day in pain? You can't tough it out like that, kid. If your leg hurts, you need to take something."

"It wasn't that bad," she says with a shrug. "Lot more painful to sit through history class."

This last comment is grumbled, and I'm guessing she's not talking about physical pain.

"Mr. Morrison was out again today. I guess he was out last week or something too. The sub we had today was the worst. We couldn't talk, couldn't move, couldn't even breathe too loud or she lost her mind. All she wanted us to do was read out of the textbook and do the unit quiz."

I feel for Riley's rant. This woman sounds like a poor substitute for Jake, though I guess anyone would be. But the whole time she's talking, I can feel my muscles tightening, the tension in my body forming into a tight knot.

I know what she's going to ask. It's only a matter of when.

"Do you know when he's coming back? Emily said he's got the flu or something. But you would've gone to visit him, right? Brought him some soup or something at least."

I would have, if he were actually sick. I probably would've insisted he stay at the house so I could watch over him and make sure he was getting enough fluids.

I look over at Riley. She's just looking back at me, completely trusting that I'm going to tell her the truth. And I know I have to. I can't lie to her. Not about this.

Glancing at the stationary line of cars, I let out a soft sigh and hang my hands over the wheel. "Jake's not… sick, kid. He was suspended."

"What?! Why?"

"For… a lot of things. But I guess one thing mainly." I keep hoping fate will intervene. The line will move, Riley will get distracted, and we won't have to have this conversation. But no such luck. "Mr. and Mrs. Peterson saw us together, that night you and Julie were at the movies with Travis. They eventually emailed the principal to complain, and I guess since I'm your dad, and you're his student, that was the deciding factor."

An uncomfortable restlessness crawls up my spine. I don't really know what it is, but it makes me shift in my seat. For a second, I even contemplate hitting the horn.

"That's bullshit!" Riley exclaims.

"I don't disagree with you, kid, but—"

"God, it's like they won't be happy until everybody who isn't like them is miserable."

The more time I've had to think about it, the more I agree with her. But I have to be the adult here, so I keep quiet and say a silent prayer when the person in front of us finally moves up, giving me a chance to pull out and leave the parking lot.

"You have to do something, Dad."

I frown, glancing over at her. Her eyes are filled with a fire that reminds me of Sid. And Jake, oddly enough.

"It's already been done, Riley."

"Yeah, but it can be undone, right? How long's the suspension for?"

"Three weeks," I say, my fingers curling and uncurling around the wheel.

"Seriously?! No. Uh-uh. We can't let them do this. He must be going crazy."

I know he is. There's nothing he loves more than teaching, and even though it's not technically my fault, I still feel responsible. If I'd just kept my mouth shut that night, maybe things wouldn't be the way they are now.

It's a comforting lie, but still a lie.

My attention goes back to the road, and my thoughts try to scramble on to any topic other than this. I completely miss the fact that Riley hasn't said anything for a few moments.

And then I'm keenly aware of it, and the fact that her eyes are on me. I look over, my brows raised in question.

"You have been talking to Mr. Morrison, right? I mean… you haven't been going over there, since you're always looking after me, but…"

What can I even say to that? No, we haven't talked, but I think about him all the time?

When I glance over at Riley again, her brow is furrowed and she has this stricken look on her face. "What happened?"

Dammit. She's too smart for her own good. I should have known we'd have to have this talk sometime, but I didn't expect it to be this soon.

"You didn't break up or something, did you?"

I open my mouth to speak, but Riley cuts me off.

"Why would you break up?! Mr. Morrison was perfect for you."

A stabbing pain slices through my heart. Knowing Riley approved of him so much is like pouring a bucket full of salt into an already aggravated wound.

"Riley—"

"There has to be a reason. Did he… do something? Did he do something wrong?"

"No," I say quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

"Then why?"

"Because it wasn't fair to you," I manage to say, knowing that's not going to be enough.

Riley can't hold in her laugh. It bursts out of her, along with, "What? It doesn't even affect me."

"It does," I say. "Everything I do affects you, Riley. Directly, indirectly. It doesn't matter."

I come to a hard stop at the red light, my mind definitely not on the traffic patterns.

"I guess, but… I don't get it. Why—"

"Because if I'd been paying more attention to you instead of him, you never would have gotten hurt!" I blurt out.

The words scald me like a brand as they leave my mouth, searing deep marks into my heart. I told Jake all of this, but Riley? I never wanted her to see me as a failure. I never wanted to admit I was a bad father.

Silence follows this admission, and I can't bring myself to look over at her; to see how hurt she must look. I just turn onto the next street, and it takes until I've gotten up to speed before she speaks again.

"Dad." Quiet. So quiet I can barely hear it. "Pull over."

Confusion settles over me, mingling with everything else I'm feeling at that moment. It takes me longer than I want to admit to hear my wife's voice in that command.

Whenever we took family trips and Riley crossed a line, Sid would call for me to pull over. This was always followed by an impromptu family meeting that usually ended things far better than they started.

"Dad. Pull over," she says again.

And I do, turning into the vacant lot of a church. I let out a breath and finally look at my daughter. But she's not staring back at me with some crestfallen expression. She actually looks a little… angry.

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

Wow. Okay. Not what I expected at all.

"What I did was dumb. And it wasn't your fault."

Definitely not what I expected. I take my hands off the wheel and lean back in my seat, just looking at her.

"I know I'm not… the easiest person to have for a daughter—"

"Riley…"

"No, just hear me out, okay?"

I nod softly, keeping silent.

"When Mom died, it felt like nothing was ever going to feel normal again. Every day, it hurt. It hurt to get up and go downstairs and not have her be there. It hurt to dream about her and wake up and have her still be gone; to know she wasn't ever coming back. And it hurt even more when we moved down here. I thought you didn't care. That you were just trying to run away from it, no matter how I felt. But…"

The tears shimmering in her eyes are making mine sting, too. I want to interrupt after every sentence, to wrap her up and tell her I felt the same way, and I just wanted to do what was best for her.

But still I keep quiet, pressing my lips together as my chin starts to tremble.

"Moving here was the best thing that's ever happened to me. You were happy again, and you were just treating me like you used to. Not like the kid who kept fucking up. Who was just going to end up some useless piece of shit. Who couldn't be trusted t-to…"

Her voice breaks on a sob, and I can't stay quiet anymore. Reaching over the console, I grab her hand and squeeze it tight.

"I never thought that, do you hear me? Never. You've moved mountains since the day you were born, Riley. That's never going to change. And I'm so, so sorry if I ever made you feel like it had."

She chokes on a full-out sob, and my heart breaks, fracturing into a thousand different pieces. I try to lean over the console, but the seatbelt pulls hard against me. Slamming my fingers down on the release, I pull her into my arms and hold her as she's wracked with sobs.

"I'm so sorry, baby girl. I'm so, so sorry," I say, my own tears coming as I stroke her hair.

She shakes her head, her voice distorted by her crying. "It hasn't been like that since we got here. That's what I mean. But you saying it's your fault I got hurt, it feels like… like…"

"Like it did before," I say, the answer breaking me even more.

She just nods, and I can feel her tears starting to seep through my shirt. I don't know what to say. I thought I was doing the right thing. I never would've imagined I was making it worse; making her feel this way.

"Riley, you are an amazing kid. And everything I did, it was about me. I didn't… I didn't think I could do this alone. I didn't think I'd be enough."

"You are, Dad," she says, her words muffled against me. "You are."

We sit like that for a while, past the point where the console becomes uncomfortable. I rub her back until she stops crying, and once she pulls away, I let her have some space.

Both of us are wrung out like sponges by the time I leave that parking lot. Neither of us talk on the way home, but it feels like a good silence. Cathartic.

I help her get inside, and fix us both some ice cream. We sit at the kitchen table, still silent but for the sound of spoons hitting bowls until Riley finally speaks again.

"I really liked Mr. Morrison. It seemed like he made you happy."

"He did," I say with a sad smile.

"Did you love him?"

That sentence catches me off guard, my spoon stopping in my bowl. Love. Love is something I haven't felt since Sidney; something I convinced myself I could never feel again. Lusting after someone, even liking someone, I could justify easily enough. I'm only human, and I don't like being lonely any more than the next guy.

But love is something else. It has to be for me, because I've only felt it one other time in my life.

As I think about Jake, though, my heart aches, overflowing with emotion that I can't call lust or even like. He's the first thing I think about when I wake up. The last thing I think about when I close my eyes at night. Every time I feel lost, I just want him near. I want to lean on him, and to let him lean on me. I want to make him feel like he's enough, the way his family never did.

I want so many things with him, and none of those things can be described by any other word.

"Yeah, kid. I did." After a beat, I amend it to, "I do."

I look over at her with a small, helpless smile. She smiles back, places a hand on my arm, and looks at me in dead seriousness as she says, "Then Dad? Get off your ass and fight."

It's such a shock that I just laugh, but it calls to something in me. Something I buried that night at the hospital. I should fight. I deserve this. I deserve to have a life; to move on and be happy.

And so does Jake.

"I don't even know where to start," I admit.

"The suspension," she says, like she's kept this in the back of her mind this whole time. Maybe she has. "Come into school with me tomorrow morning. Talk to Principal Vasquez."

I could. Maybe it won't make a difference, but I know how much this suspension hurt Jake. If I could get it overturned, maybe he'd hear me out. Maybe he'd give me a second chance.

As hope fills me, a plan starts to form. I look at Riley, a slow smile overtaking my features. "Remember how I told you not to keep texting Julie?"

"Yeah…"

"Do you think you could find a way to reach her?"

She bites her lip, looking away for a second. "Let's say I already had. Hypothetically speaking…"

I just grin. "Then hypothetically get your phone so you can do it again."