"No one puts Baby in the corner," Patrick Swayze says.

"That's my favourite part," my mom comments. She's awful to watch movies with. I don't mean to be rude, but she never stops talking during a movie. "Johnny knows he's spent too much time trying to respect the rich people, being scared of losing his job, trying to impress Baby's father. He's finally going to fight back and take what he wants."

Patrick Swayze leads Jennifer Grey onto the stage, interrupting the song that the staff members, and Baby's sister, were singing. As a musician, that song hurts my soul. I can't figure out if it's the lyrics, failure at harmonization, Baby's sister's singing voice, or all of the above, but whatever it is, it's awful. And why is it so long! I swear they've been singing for the last five minutes. When Johnny and Baby finally get onto the stage, all of the voices go silent, ending the cacophonous cringefest.

Johnny starts to speak. "Sorry 'bout the disruption folks. But I always do the last dance of the-" he is interrupted by six loud knocks.

That has never been part of the movie.

"I think that's our door, honey," my mom says. She hits the spacebar, pausing the movie. "I'll go get it."

She starts walking down the hall.

"No, it's okay. I can get it. You go sit down," I tell her.

"Are you sure? It's really no trouble." She seems persistent.

"Yeah, I'm sure,"

I don't want her getting the door. Dad came back multiple times after Mom kicked him out, and he could have easily found out where we live, being a real estate agent and all. I'm worried he'll come back and try to apologize for the crap he's done. I'm worried he'll try to force his way back into our lives, back into our family. I need to be able to deal with him, and Mom shouldn't have to see him ever again.

Reluctantly, I open the much-too-red door. There is a girl there, walking back down the gross cement porch steps. She has probably heard me open the door, because she turns around and walks up the steps again with her head down. It looks natural for her, like it's being done out of habit, not shame. She looks up at me with her mouth open, like she's about to say something, but then our eyes meet. Her eyes are bright green and full of life and excitement. And the rest of her is beautiful, too. Despite her black ripped skinny jeans and My Chemical Romance hoodie (funny, I think I probably have the same one, they're my favourite band), she is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Her wavy brown hair falls perfectly down her shoulders. I want to run my fingers through it. I want to inhale its scent as I whisper sweet things in her ear. Her lips are full and beautifully pink, and they look so soft. I wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips...

No. I can't think about that. No matter how much I like her, she can never know. I can't want her like this. I don't even know this girl. I can't expose her to all of the crap that's going on in my life. It'll hurt her too much for me to bear. Oh my God, what am I even saying. If this girl ever found out what's happening in my life, she would run from me. She would run fast, and never even look back. So we can't be together.

"Hi," she says. Oh, she has such a nice voice. "I'm... um... I'm Leah. I'm your next door neighbour."

Uh-oh.

"Hunter," I say harshly. I don't want to do this. "What do you want?"

"My mom wanted me to come over and say hi-"

She doesn't want to be here, this isn't her fault. "Yeah, well, you just said hi, so you can leave now." This is killing me.

"Wow," she's angry now. I hate this. "Do you think I want to be here?"

Make it stop.

"My mother would have taken away my phone if I hadn't come over."

Please.

"I was just trying to be polite, so you can stop being a jerk."

She spins around and stomps back to her house. One thought echoes around in my brain: Why does she have to be so damn cute when she's mad?

I go back inside, slamming the door behind me with my foot. I collapse against it, my back sliding down it so I'm sitting with my legs curled to my chest. I press my face into my knees cry. I haven't cried in such a long time. It feels good and bad at the same time, like a ball full of two-and-a-half years worth of anger and depression had just melted. I could have been kind. I should have been kind. I should have let my mother answer the door. She'd have been kind. Leah didn't deserve to be treated the way I treated her. She was just being polite. I had just ruined what could potentially have been a wonderful friendship. Or maybe even something more.

I ruined everything. I hurt her feelings. I shouldn't give her the disrespect my father gave me. I should give her the kindness I had always wanted from him. The acceptance. The love. The interest. The approval. The friendship. The time of day. The exact opposite of the crap I just pulled.

I have to apologize to her on Monday at school. But what if it ruins everything more. What if it hurts of both of us. Worst of all, what if she can't forgive me. Is that a chance I'll have to take?

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" Mom says.

I look up at her and smile, bringing back memories of the night I found my father cheating on her. "Nothing, I just banged my knee on the doorframe."

"Oh, okay," she replies, returning my smile. "Who was at the door?"

I want her to hug me, like when I was a kid, when everything was alright. I want her to tell me everything's going to be alright, even if it's not true. I just need to hear it from someone. I haven't heard it in so long, and God knows I've never needed to hear it more. I feel so weak. I hate that feeling. I want to stop crying. I know I have to be strong for the both of us. I need to toughen up and tell her what I did. But I can't all I say is, "No one, probably just some middle-schooler playing Nicky Nicky Nine Doors or something."

"I was never really a fan of that game," she says. I appreciate her changing the subject.

"Come on," I say, getting up. "Let's finish that movie. We haven't seen the final dance yet."

"Ooh," Mom says. "That's my favourite part."

I laugh. "Of course it is, Mom."

But before we can continue the movie, Mom's phone rings.

She picks up. "Oh, hello Larissa!" Pause. "I'm good thanks, how are you?" Pause. "Oh that's good." Can this conversation move any slower? "You're daughter came over a couple of minutes ago?" Crap. Another pause. Mom glares at me. "Oh, was he?" Well, I've lived a pretty good life. No. No I haven't. I'm gonna die a virgin. "Well I'll definitely talk to him about that. I'm very sorry." Pause. "You too. Bye." She hangs up.

"I can explain-"

"You're grounded."

"Fair enough."