"I wish people came with a 30 second trailer, so I can see what I'm getting myself into."

~Anonymous

~~~~~~~~~~

I finally break free from the stupid emotions making me all weepy and soft and gooey. Now I'm feeling more like a human and less like a chocolate chip cookie.

Eloise talks with Aimee for almost three hours and I find myself pacing around.

I'm not above eavesdropping, but I just want to forget about the situation for a while.

A wild idea comes to me.

I contact two old lovers of mine, Ben and Jerry, and grab a spoon before flopping onto the couch.

The Bachelor is recorded and ready to go, so I press play and indulge in a little ice cream heaven.

It's typical: Kaitlyn not getting a rose, then having a meltdown either because the Bachelor doesn't love her or because her water has "too many minerals" in it, I can't tell.

I'm kinda surprised how uninteresting it is. As much as I still enjoy watching hapless girls chasing after some stupid rich boy and making fools of themselves, the neverending drama feels drawn-out and annoying.

Being a good person has even taken this one small pleasure away from me, and for the first time, I have to count the true cost.

With a sigh, I turn off the TV, cross and uncross my legs, and pace again.

Finally, I hear Eloise's door open and she comes downstairs.

A nervous twist squeezes my stomach and I try to act natural. I've psyched myself up for this moment and prepared a mental speech for all the things I'm going to explain to Aimee.

I hold out my hand for the phone, but Eloise shakes her head. "She already hung up. She, uh, didn't really want to talk to you."

I drop my arm and nod. Fine. If Aimee wants to play that game, she obviously doesn't realize that I didn't want to talk to her, either. It does make me worried, though...

I turn back and put the phone back in the cradle. "Well? What happened?"

Eloise pulls her brown hair to one side and heaves a sigh. "She gasped, was totally in shock, then started asking questions, then yelled at me. She basically went through the five stages of grief in about three seconds."

"Sounds like Aimee," I mutter, sitting on the arm of the couch. "But don't blame her. You did get drunk..."

She looks down.

An awkward silence hangs between us before I say, "I think we need to go pick up your sisters before they succumb to a s'mores coma."

~~~~~~

There's an unspoken agreement not to tell the younger girls about what happened. Jemma is still on her own high after winning the costume contest and Barb tells me that she slept in her plastic Iron Man suit all night.

The thought of Aimee still nags at my mind. Giving the silent treatment is her way of becoming a giant rage monster.

I try not to think about it, though, because I have a new problem on my hands.

It comes to me in the middle of the night on a Monday.

What if Eloise is suppressing her emotions?

It's not something I would ordinarily wonder, but with things so upside down inside of me, even sleep can't ward away the looming nag of emotions.

The thought troubles me.

For these three-and-a-half months, Eloise has been hiding all sorts of feelings away. What if they all build up again and she does something even more stupid than downing a few drinks?

And what if it affects Jemma and Dusty?

~~~~~~

Tuesday's PTO meeting is already on top of all things Thanksgiving.

There's going to be a Parent Pilgrim Day, a Saturday Harvest Festival for families, and a Wednesday Harvest Festival for the school. And that's only the beginning.

I check my watch.

It's only been twenty minutes.

"Hey," Barb whispers to me. I'm prepared for her coffee stench by now and instinctively hold my breath. "How's Eloise doing?"

I tighten my grip on my water bottle that's actually filled with Monster energy drink. "Fine," I say.

"Oh good. I keep thinking about her and--"

"Hey, maybe if we just forget about it, the whole school won't know the entire story by lunchtime, yeah?"

"Know what, exactly, Beverly?" Kristen taps her Pepto Bismol nails on the table and everyone is looking at us.

"Uhhh--" I have to think of something quick--"That my mom got lice from the clown that performed at my eighth birthday party." I heave a long sigh. "It was a very difficult time in our family and I didn't want it to get spread around." I nod sagely and offer my hands up to the group. "But now you know."

Kristen looks at me in disgust and I smile back innocently.

She scoffs and returns to her meeting.

Close call.

For the rest of the time, I can't help but get more and more agitated thinking about Eloise.

What if she was just faking being sorry? What if she's still a tragic mess on the inside, ready to explode? What if she's getting into trouble right now?

The worries hover over me like a raincloud all the way to Finn's classroom.

Soon I'm pacing back and forth across the floor and in-between desks.

"I get it, you know? Life is a giant ball of ear wax from a hairy grandpa." I bite on my thumbnail. "Yeah, forget I said it like that, but the point is that she needs a coping mechanism."

Finn has forfeited his work grading papers after realizing that I'm on this rant for the long haul. He leans against his desk, listening with serene patience.

I, on the other hand, am on the verge of a panic attack while clicking scissors in the hand that's propped under my elbow.

"I mean, think about it," click! "Her dad is a jerk the size of Texas, her mom's off in Japan, and she's stuck with me for six months," click! "while going to a new school and having to watch out for her sisters!"

"It is quite a lot." Finn nods.

"So then just think about how easy it would be to hide the rest of her feelings! I should know! I'm amazing at hiding my feelings! Well, usually," I sigh dismally and wave my hand around. "Except for when it comes to the girls or me being kind of in love with you. I feel like I made that pretty clear when I didn't judge you for wanting to see the dolphin show at the aquarium."

Finn rubs the back of his neck. "I--I did pick up on that a bit, yes."

"And that's another thing!" I point at him. "What if Eloise is just playing me? She's been pretending to be this goody-goody all the time when she's really been like a $4,500 Lamborghini being sold at an auction. Everyone thinks it's a perfect deal, but they don't know that the Lamborghini has 290,000 miles on it!"

I sit on top of one of the desks with a thud and cross my arms.

Finn straightens and walks over to sit next to me. "You don't know she's a wolf in sheep's clothing. She's a good kid."

"Wolf in sheep's clothing," I murmur, "that's the metaphor I was getting at." I sigh dejectedly. "You're probably right. I just...I don't know how to help her."

He puts a sympathetic hand on my shoulder and says, "You are helping her, Beverly. She said it herself; you're there for her. That's what she needs."

I nod. "Yeah. You're right. As usual."

I exhale slowly before meeting his gaze. I feel a smile tugging at my face.

My blood suddenly runs cold and I jerk away. "Oh...oh no. I said that I loved you and I didn't really mean it--I mean, I didn't not mean it--but I didn't mean it like that. Does that make sense? It didn't make sense. This is like that one time I told a thug that I liked his brass knuckles and he initiated me into his gang. Look, the point is--"

I'm silenced when he kisses me.

My eyes widen in surprise. This is not what I expected or accounted for.

Is Finn Watson kissing me or is this a panicked hallucination?

I kiss him back, just to make sure it's real and that he's doing it on purpose, before pulling away.

I blink, unable to speak for a long moment. Finn, of course, doesn't mind the quiet.

"So...um...did that mean I should shut up or that you like me too, or...?"

Finn smiles that grin of his and shakes his head. "You are a wonder, Beverly."

"So I'm kinda guessing it was the second one?"

He stands up and hands me a stack of coloring pages.

"For the kindergarteners," he says quietly.

I take them and nod before going to my desk and picking up the scissors to get to work.

As I begin cutting up the pictures, I look up at Finn and see that he's already watching me.

He gives a grin that lasts for more than a second, before ducking his head down and grading papers.

I smile too, my cheeks warm.

For a moment, I'm able to forget all the worries that have been plaguing me.

That is, until my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I look at the caller's name on the screen. It's Aimee.

I almost answer it, then look back at Finn, who's already absorbed in his mural.

I don't want this moment to end. Not yet. So I decline the call.