"So, any news?" asked Paige. Every thirty minutes, she called to check if I had finally heard whether I would be grounded.

Well, we got busted last night. When Paige and I had gotten back at around midnight, we found my dad sitting on the front porch—dimmed lights, phone in hand, and a grim smile on his face. He was pretty upset.

As much as I'd wanted to shake off my dad's troubled mindset and humor him that there should always be a first time for everything, the atmosphere last night hadn't permitted me to do so. Dad was all the way gloomy, like his every movement spelled the word melancholy.

Normally, my dad was like one sunny day in a human package. He usually greeted everyone good morning from the moment he stepped foot at work until he arrived at his office; good afternoon while eating lunch with his colleagues; or even good evening if he saw someone late at night, while buying some last-minute groceries.

He was everybody's man. Even the times they had chosen him as the best man for weddings were now more than the number of his fingers. He was just like that—all smiles, perky personality, and a very warm voice.

So when an unexpected gloominess surrounded him last night, I knew that something was definitely wrong and probably more off than my sneaking out. I had done stupid things before and had drawn his wrath to myself, but last night was kind of weird.

I exhaled, telling Paige, "None as of the moment."

"It can't be something big, right? I mean, your dad is not that much of a terror," Paige replied.

"I don't know. He's been quiet all this while," I said, hushing my voice, just in case Dad would come to the kitchen and hear our conversation on the phone. It might add fuel to the fire that was already made and burning.

"Yeah, he was kind of odd. He went to his room early and everything," Paige agreed.

"It was the same this morning. He barely said a word to me," I told her. Then, giving it a thought, I added, "Okay, wait. Come to think of it, he hadn't spoken to me at all."

I looked at the clock. It was a little after two in the afternoon. Dad was so preoccupied and anxious all day. Even his lunch was still on the table, untouched. I was the only one in this house who had enough appetite to finish her meal.

I knew that something was definitely wrong, and he couldn't tell me a thing about it. Aside from the fact that I had broken my curfew, there must be something else he was deeply thinking about.

"Not even one word?"

"Nu-uh."

"I hope he'll forget about your curfew."

"Definitely possible," I said, knowing my dad's personality. After all, I grew up with him ever since Mom and Dad had separated ten years ago.

I heard the door of my dad's room open, so I told Paige, "Gotta go. Dad got out of his room. I think he's ready to talk, if that makes any sense."

She laughed on the other line. "And he's the one who really needs to get ready. Well, good luck. I'm sorry for making you break your curfew last night."

"It's okay," I replied, being reminded of the masked guy at the party. My occasional thinking of him hadn't faded yet. Why was he wearing a mask at that party? And, for some odd reason, why did he sketch me?

Now, I could only wish that I had talked to him some more, since we still got busted after. The thing about breaking your curfew, I'd found out, was that if you were going to break it, then why not do it all the way?

Ha.

"Fiona?"

"Yes, Dad?" I rushed towards the dining table. Okay, verdict time. Goodbye, cellphone. See you again, world. Come and find your place, ill-fated senior life.

"Take a seat." Dad pointed to the empty chair at my left. "There's something I have to tell you."

The last time he had given him a serious punishment was two years ago, when I'd ditched last period and went on a double date with Paige. Little did we know my dad was having a business meeting around the area. So the first time I'd skipped classes, I got busted, too. This was getting repetitive.

"Dad, I'm so sorry for..." I drummed my fingers on the table while picking the right words to start my apology. I lifted my eyes to get a view of his face, to see whether he was a bit upset, furious, or all the way raged. But instead of looking angry, he was worried. I also noticed his restlessness. His blonde hair was a mess, and it was all over the place. I noticed his glasses were crooked. There was this undeniable puffiness under his eyes. I wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all. He continued his silence, so I carried on, "...breaking my curfew. I knew what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have—"

After a minute of silence, he finally said, "It's about Finn."

I blinked twice. "Finn?"

He nodded.

"Dad, are we still talking about my punishment?"

He lifted his head. "Come to think of it, you broke your curfew last night."

"Right, I did," I responded slowly, feeling like a fool for even mentioning it. I could have gotten myself out of this one if only I didn't ask that.

Me and my extra large mouth.

"Let's talk about that later." Dad shoved the discussion about my curfew immediately. I was about to be overwhelmingly happy when I heard him say instead, "There's something you need to know about Finn."

"Finn?" I clarified. Finn and I were fraternal twins. The last time I saw him was when we were nine, when Mom and Dad had talked things over after two years of being apart.

"Yes." Dad took off his glasses and wiped them with his shirt.

"What about him?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"I got a note for this event we held in school, the one I told you about before," he continued.

"Note for the Headmaster, right?" During the end of the school year at my dad's workplace, they required every student to make a note addressed to the headmaster. You could say anything on that paper. It was like a feedback on how to improve the school or things like that. My dad would usually bring them home during summer and read them.

"That one," he confirmed.

"What about them?"

"Finn sent me a note," he answered.

"Yeah, he does that for your birthday or during holidays." Even though we grew up separately, Finn and I had been in constant communication ever since. Unlike Mom, who never bothered talking to me, Finn was the opposite. I guessed it was because we were used to being together—same school and same grade ever since we were little. It was hard for us to be apart.

However, while Finn wasn't that distant with me, he was to our dad, like I was with Mom. His letters for him only arrived during special occasions and nothing more. I understood him. For me, it was hard to talk to Mom when she didn't even try to reach out to me at all. It was like I was Dad's and he was Mom's. This was how it was going to be. End of discussion. There was no in between. No impasse.

"It was in the junior's box," Dad continued.

It took me several seconds before I got what he meant. "You mean, Finn's note was in there?"

"Yes," he answered.

"What did it say? Wait, why was it there in the first place? How was he able to put it inside?" I suddenly felt alarmed. I thought my dad was only getting confused with his story, mentioning Finn and then sharing to me things about the Notes for the Headmaster.

Instead of answering my questions, Dad grabbed something out of his pocket. He handed it to me, and I hurriedly read the contents. The paper felt clammy in my hands.

I've been here in Corner Stone the entire year, and you didn't even recognize me when I greeted you in the hall? What kind of father are you?

I read the note repeatedly. It sounded like my brother, all right. So much hatred against the world. Finn had gone through every adolescent angst during his early teen years. There had been at least five phone calls from Mom over the years, asking if he was here because he went missing.

Oh, and Dad was working in Corner Stone High School. That was also the reason we had to move here after their separation. This was also the reason I knew a thing or two about that place, aside from the usual things you'd hear around.

"When was the last time you two saw each other?" Dad asked.

"Several years ago, with Mom. You came with me that time," I said. Finn had attended a boarding school after their separation. Given the situation, our family's complications, and our parents' erratic work schedules, we never got the chance to see each other again.

"Do you have any pictures of him?"

"None," I answered. Weirdly enough, Finn also didn't have any social media accounts and refused to send me pictures whenever I asked him to let me know what he looked like now. Every single time I'd ask him, he would just say that it was a surprise. Sometimes, he would joke around, saying that he was too handsome for the camera.

But we'd made a promise to see each other again for our eighteenth birthday next year after my high school graduation. We would go on a trip somewhere. So I just waited, not really feeling bothered about it. It was kind of exciting. If only I had known a picture would be needed now, I would have insisted on it before.

"So you do not know what he looks like?"

"Reddish-blonde hair? Finn...ish? You know, an older version of Finn?" I suggested. Finn's hair was almost the same shade as Dad's, only more like strawberry blonde. Mine was like Mom's—auburn. Aside from the shape of our noses, we had no other common feature. Even his eyes were blue, and mine were dull brown ones.

"There was no junior who looked like your brother."

"Surely, you'd notice someone with the name Finn Pearce, wouldn't you?"

"I think he used fake documents. I had gone through the entire students' list, and I didn't see his name," Dad replied.

Of course, why would Finn use his real name if he was, well, being sneaky about all this? If he wanted to talk to my father straight in the face, he wouldn't bother going through all the trouble of staying in Corner Stone for the entire year. Actually, it was also funny how he had gotten into their exclusive school using fake documents.

Way to go, Finn!

"He even faked his documents," I repeated, disregarding my amusement. My dad and I were having a serious conversation here. I should just focus on the reason my brother would go through all this trouble.

"Did he tell you he transferred to Corner Stone?" Dad asked.

"Nope. I would have told you. His last email came a month ago. He mentioned nothing about transferring schools or repeating his junior year again in Corner Stone." My brother was sort of a knack and had skipped a grade after we got separated, making him a year advanced compared to me. He must be fond of junior high. I wondered what exactly entranced him about it.

Dad went on, "His put his note in the junior's box, and there had been no transfers made by the upcoming seniors. Every one of them enrolled again this year. Supposedly, he's going to be a senior this year if he didn't purposely put his note in the junior's box..."

And trolled us all. Happy holidays, Pearce family!

"He must still look almost the same right now. You know, only older?" I said, unsure. I could understand that teenage years were confusing. Most of the time, I was also confused. But doing it like this was kind of pushing it too far.

Wait.

What if we asked Mom? But I refrained from suggesting it. Finn would surely end up in trouble if my mom would hear about it. I had to talk to him first. Finn must have his reasons for doing this, and my mom could be quite scary.

She was the opposite of Dad. While my dad was the lively one in the house, Mom was the opposite. She was so silent, keeping everything to herself. And before I could fully understand her reasons, she kissed me goodbye and headed out of our door, carrying a big red suitcase in one hand and my sickly twin brother in the other.

Just like that, she became a distant memory. A figure. Like saying, I had a mom, but I couldn't point out what food she liked or what was her favorite color.

My phone beeped.

"Is that Finn?" Dad instantly asked.

"Nope. Just a friend," I quickly replied. It was actually my mom. I sent her a quick, safe email a while ago, asking if she had any recent pictures with Finn. Her response email: Ask your brother

She must be busy.

"I looked at all the pictures the office had provided. There was no one with the same features as Finn. Well, not from what I'd seen," Dad told me.

"Pictures can be tricky. He must have changed his looks as well. But he'd surely be a senior this year if he hadn't played a prank or anything and was actually telling the truth about transferring to Corner Stone?"

"Yes, technically. I was actually wondering if you could ask him about it."

"Sure. I can do that." It wouldn't be that hard to ask Finn when, why, and what. But if he had gone through all the trouble of using fake documents to enter Corner Stone High School, for some unknown reason, I was almost certain that Finn wouldn't answer such questions. "Give me a moment, Dad. I'll send him an email."

Failure notice.

"Any response?"

"Dad, I think he deactivated his email account." I swallowed. It turned out that Finn had shut me off as well. Even me, Finn? Why? I did nothing for you to get mad at me. Well, I always ate more than half of the cake on our birthdays when we were kids, but that was it.

"Dad, it's okay. We'll know where he is," I encouraged him. "It can't be that bad."

Dad seemed immovable, helpless. "I'm a terrible father to him, and even to you. I'm sorry for everything, Fiona."

"Oh, come on, Dad. You're not that bad," I comforted him.

"How could I not recognize him? I should have tried to talk to him more, or maybe talk to your mother about it. But since he was shoving me away, I thought he was doing fine with your mom. And your mom said that he was fine and that I shouldn't bother myself about him. I believed he didn't need my attention anymore," he reasoned out.

Um, Dad... duh?

"Dad, come on, every child needs his parent's attention, even if we shove you guys away," I told him.

He didn't answer.

"You should know that," I pressed on, feeling a bit surprised he was uninformed about the matter. He remained silent, completely clueless. "Don't you miss Finn at all?"

"I do. Don't misunderstand me, because I do. It's just that he's with your mom. I thought he'd be okay," he explained. That was Dad's weak point—never crossing the line separating what was his and what was hers. My parents were both complicated.

"Fine, I'll help you find Finn and you straighten this mess. You in?" I offered, thinking that this was the best way to fix things between my sensitive brother and my stubborn dad.

"But, how? It's not like you can even see him. You can't even wait for him outside our school. They have their own dormitory," Dad said.

"Yeah, you're right," I muttered, taken aback. Here I was sounding all up and spirited, when the fact that talking to Finn in Corner Stone seemed to be an almost impossible task. With his email deactivated, how could I ever get in touch with Finn? But if we wouldn't find a way, then we'd never be able to fix their mess.

"I appreciate your thoughts, Fiona. I'll see what I can do about your brother," Dad finally said, pushing back his chair and standing up.

Since our usual means of communication—Finn's email address—wasn't working, the only option I had to see my brother was to go to their school. Sure, I could visit my father's office every once in a while, but I couldn't stay there for no reason. Even if he was the headmaster, it still sounded off to see his daughter running around the halls.

A daughter was highly conspicuous.

It wasn't like I could just go there and carry a huge banner saying: FINN, FIONA HERE. WHERE ARE YOU? That sounded stupid. Even if I were Finn, I wouldn't respond to such a thing. More so, knowing Finn and his crazy antics, he'd probably hide away again, activate his email address for a minute, and shoot me an email, telling me to stop this madness.

Not as if I would run around their halls one time, Finn would bump into me suddenly, and then we'd talk after. Chances were, at least I had to be in the same place as him for some time to find out where and who he was. What could I possibly do to help?

"Dad, wait," I said. My last thought was insane, but it was the only thing I could offer.

"Did you think of something? His cell phone number. How could I forget? Do you have it?" he asked, turning his head to me. "Maybe we can call him."

"I already tried calling his phone, but the call didn't go through. But you know, Dad, since we're twins, I think I'll recognize him when I see him," I said, with due conviction, "instantly."

"You're close to him, after all," he said.

"So I'm thinking that in order for me to see him, I have to be where he is for a while," I carefully said to him, hoping that what I was telling him wasn't that absurd.

"And?"

"So then, I think the only way for this to happen is for me to transfer to your school for a short while," I said, holding my breath while waiting for his answer.

It surprised Dad at first, of course. The twitching of his eyebrows soon followed his astonishment. After all, why would something like this come out of his daughter's mouth? It wasn't making any sense, and I was certain that he wouldn't let me. Corner Stone High School wasn't like any other high schools.

But then, he had to. It was our only chance at figuring out what Finn was up to and how he was doing. Dad certainly had no choice but to let his daughter transfer to Corner Stone High School. He must. He could definitely pull a string here and there.

Well, Corner Stone was that same high school that Paige and I were fond of talking about—the one whose students we fantasized in our dreams. After all, it was a prestigious private school. The only problem was, it was actually an exclusive school... for boys.

FINDING FINN JOURNAL NO. 2

I can't believe my brother has gone AWOL!