We sat on the wide staircase that led to the first floor. In front of us was the deserted entrance hall, from whose floor the school's eagle mascot grinned at me stupidly. Through the high windows opposite us, you could see the front schoolyard. Hallways stretched out to the left and right, lined with student lockers. The ticking of the clock, which hung above the entrance door, filled the silence in which Hiccup and I had been wallowing.

It was only ten past nine, which meant the bell for the five-minute break, in which we switched classrooms, wouldn't ring for another twenty minutes. I groaned inwardly. We'd only been sitting here for almost ten minutes, but it felt like an hour. Why did time always pass so slowly at school?

"So," Hiccup said, drawing out the word. He was hunched forward, elbows resting on his bare knees, his hands clasped together. "Are you going away during summer break?"

"Yes," I answered. "Why do you care?"

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Did you already forget the conversation we just had?"

I leaned forward. "You're seriously going through with this?"

"Yes, of course," he said puzzled. "You heard Mr. North, he wants weekly reports from us. That only works if we meet up."

I snorted. "We could just make something up."

"So you will actually end up repeating twelfth grade?" he said with a sarcastic undertone.

I clenched my jaw. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Well, I did," he replied. "And now I get to be a tutor for someone who apparently doesn't care about her entire school career."

I turned fully toward him. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Perfect, that the last two years of my life have been absolute shit and I cared more about my dying mother than my damn grades," I spat at him angrily. He looked just as angry back.

"My life's not perfect either, but I at least still manage to juggle everything."

I let out a bitter laugh and turned away so I wouldn't have to keep looking at him, leaned back against the step behind me, and crossed my arms. "You have no idea."

He didn't respond. We sank back into silence, stayed seated on the stairs and listened to the ticking clock as it moved closer to the sound of the bell.

Nobody was perfect, I knew that, but his comment still hadn't been any less stupid because of it. The constant back-and-forth at home, the many therapy sessions and hospital stays had taken up so much time that I couldn't focus on school anymore. And I didn't even want to get started on being forced to watch my mother slowly waste away.

"How did she die?" he then asked quietly, his gaze still on his green patterned backpack between his legs.

I sighed, exhausted. "Cancer. Started in her lungs and kept spreading. By March, it had reached her brain."

"That was only three months ago." No shit, Sherlock.

"Yup," I replied shortly, not wanting to go into more detail.

"I'm sorry she couldn't beat it," he said, making me laugh again.

"Yeah, sure. Everyone's sorry once they hear that, even if they've never spoken to me before."

"I mean it." The sincerity behind those three words made me look at him again. He had turned his head toward me so I could see he wasn't putting on a face. He didn't smile at me reassuringly either, it was just ... Hiccup. "No one deserves to lose their mother so early and in such a cruel way. You're right, I don't know what it's like, but I can imagine it's not easy watching something like that unfold. Cancer is an asshole, always has been, and it usually takes the wrong people."

I didn't respond, I didn't know what. It sounded like he had lost someone to it too, but he had also said he didn't know what it was like. I didn't care either, just like he shouldn't care about my tragic backstory.

He leaned back again so we were side by side. "She died in March?"

I pulled my eyebrows together. Hadn't he just deduced that? "Yes."

"In the hospital?"

I turned my head to him. "Yes. What's with all the questions?"

He looked at my face like he was searching for something. "I saw you. At the hospital."

I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Oh yeah?"

He nodded. "You ran down the stairs, right past me. Your dad, I'm guessing, came shortly after and asked me if I'd seen you. I just didn't realize it was you. Until now."

"You were sitting on the second-to-last staircase before the exit," it slowly clicked for me. My memories of that morning were hazy because of all the tears I had been crying, but I did remember running past someone in the stairwell. "Why were you there?"

He looked at the wall behind me. "My dad, he, uh ... he had an appointment. I was waiting for him there because it took so long."

I nodded and looked up at the clock. Five minutes until the bell. My next class was English, which we didn't have together and was probably the only subject I hadn't gotten worse at. At least one class he didn't need to help me with.

I stood up and shouldered my backpack, which Hiccup did as well after glancing at the clock. "I'm going to California for the first three weeks of summer break," I said to him. He looked at me, puzzled. "What? You already forgot the conversation with Mr. North?"

He grinned at my reference. "You want to start after your vacation?"

"It wouldn't make much sense to begin in the last week of the school year, then take three weeks off, and start again after that, would it?"

"No, you're right," he said with a smile on his lips. "But I think it would make sense if we exchanged numbers."

I typed mine into his phone. He sent a quick Hello as a test, which showed up on my screen of course. "I'll text you when I'm back. Then we can set up the first day," I said, just as the bell rang and the first doors flew open. Students flooded the hallways, filling them with the hum of conversations.

"See you," Hiccup said as a goodbye and disappeared into the crowd. I walked up the stairs and merged with the rest of the students on my way to English class.

❁

My dad was standing at the stove, stirring the bolognese sauce when I got home. It smelled so good, my mouth instantly started watering. I couldn't toss my backpack into the corner and kick off my shoes fast enough.

He smiled at me as I stepped next to him. "Hello, sweetheart." He kissed the top of my head. "How was school?"

"Oh," I said with a laugh, "you'll never believe this." I told him everything, starting with Mrs. Coleman's inappropriate behavior, the principal's decision, and ending with Hiccup and my agreement to start after the vacation.

The timer rang just before I finished. My dad took the pot off the stove and drained the pasta while I got out the plates and cutlery.

"So, just to summarize," he said, raising a spoon. "Mrs. Coleman, the teacher who doesn't like you, mentioned Mom's death in front of the class. Then this Hiccup guy, who you've never spoken to before, insulted her which is why you both ended up in the principal's office and Mr. North then decided that Hiccup is going to tutor you?"

"Exactly," I said with a nod and began serving pasta onto our plates.

"That sounds way too absurd to be true." He spooned some Bolognese onto the noodles.

I shrugged. "But it is."

We grabbed our plates and silverware and headed into the dining room. "And when you're back, he's going to come over here and you'll make a plan together or what?" he asked as he sat down.

"That would be best, random studying doesn't really help me."

He nodded. "At least you're doing something now."

I sighed annoyed. "Dad."

"What?" he said. "You know how often I've told you that you need to do something. I even offered to study with you."

"I know."

He placed his hand on mine. "I didn't mean it in a blaming way, I'm sorry. I'm just glad you agreed."

"Well," I said, looking at him, "there wasn't exactly a chance to protest."

He smiled. "Sometimes you just need a little push." I rolled my eyes.

We continued eating while he told me about his day at the police station, described the delicious strawberry donut he had for breakfast, and talked about the cat he had to rescue from a tree. Honestly, didn't these kind of owners have a ladder?

We laughed, we had a second helping, we drank a glass of soda. We used to do that as a family of three. Dinner was always family time for us, but ever since my mom got sick, that part of our life had sort of faded away. Only after her death did Dad and I slowly start sitting here together again, having fun like we used to. Sometimes I felt bad about that, but Mom wouldn't want that. Wherever she was, she'd be happy that we were happy.

I looked at her spot at the head of the table. We had never removed her placemat, which she had loved so much because of its beautiful shade of pink. We hadn't even sat in her chair. It was and always would be her place.

❁

The last week passed without Hiccup and me talking to each other. Thankfully, Mrs. Coleman's biology class on Friday was canceled because of the Science Week finals, so I wouldn't have to deal with everyone staring at me when I walked into the room. Still, I noticed a few glances from Hiccup's friends when we were in the cafeteria during lunch. He seemed to tell them every time to stop staring, though, because the very next second their attention would be elsewhere. I had no idea what he'd told them, hopefully just about the tutoring, if anything at all, and whether Stacy, his easily jealous girlfriend, knew about it. But that wasn't really my problem.

We all had to go to the gym for the awards ceremony. A homemade volcano that spewed chili sauce won, who would've guessed. I just wanted to teleport home the entire time, but things weren't much better there either. My dad kept rushing me to finish packing my suitcase, even though we weren't flying out until Monday.

"Dad, relax, we still have two days," I said while folding a T-shirt.

"If you get it done today, you'll have nothing to worry about over the weekend!" he called from his bedroom, I just rolled my eyes.

So we packed up everything we wouldn't need over the weekend. On Monday morning, all that was left was the toiletry bag with my toothbrush and all the bathroom stuff, when, once again, I was being rushed. It was our first vacation without Mom, and my dad seemed to be losing his mind.

"Do you have your passport?" he asked while rummaging through his backpack.

"Yes," I sighed, because it was the fourth time he'd asked me that morning.

"Charger? Headphones? Books? Laptop?"

"Do you want to go over all my luggage with me again and miss the flight?" I said.

He looked up at me from the floor. "I just want to make sure we haven't forgotten anything."

I gave him a small smile. "We haven't. Can we please get in the cab now?"

He nodded, stood up, and loaded everything into the trunk while I locked the front door. We got in and the driver took us through the streets of Berk, heading straight to the airport. It was busy because of the start of summer vacation, but we were early enough and had to wait another half hour at the gate before we could board the plane. When we took off an hour later, I noticed my dad finally relaxing and pulling out his crime novel. That way, I could at least enjoy the flight to my grandparents.