Fiona wasn't exactly sure what went on in the café, but the guy she had a staring contest with interested her. He seemed to be eighteen, like her. And he also seemed new to the town, by the way he acted in the shop.

As Fiona walked home she couldn't shake the feeling off about this new boy. He was quite handsome, in her opinion, and she felt intrigued by him. He didn't look to be from Washington, mainly because he was having coffee instead of tea at the shop. Sure it's not exactly uncommon to get coffee instead of tea there, but tea was what people usually got there. That's what her town was known for, is the tea that is made.

While Fiona was in there, she had time to spend to herself. She brought her book, her phone, and just walked without so much as saying goodbye to her parents. She hadn't been in the mood at all to deal with them at the moment, so she carefully avoided them when she tiptoed down the stairs of her old house and quietly left.

Fiona's parents didn't yet know of the break up, but Fiona was absolutely sure that they would be waiting for her at home with information spread by the gossip girls of the neighborhood. Fiona resented the way her parents would listen to their neighbors about crap that they shouldn't even be talking about. An example of this issue was the week before Fiona's break up. The neighbors were all outside, enjoying the nice weather that had been going on the whole week. Kids were playing in the streets and driveways, lawn chairs had been set out in driveways, campfires were made and people were cooking hot dogs and s'mores.

Fiona was with Martie and their friends, enjoying their last week of freedom before school started up again. Fiona and Martie were in the same lawn chair, which was surprisingly comfortable, and Fiona was curled up against Martie while he was rubbing her back and they talked with their friends.

Fiona's parents and a few other of the kids' parents were there as well, deep in their own conversations when one name caught my attention and made me listen on it.

"Have you heard?" A woman was saying. She had short hair that went down to her chin and was bleached blonde, dressed in clothes that were not meant for a woman in her late forties. Really short shorts and a tank-top.

"Heard what?" Fiona's mother asked, perked with interest as she held her mug in her hands. Her hair was like Fiona's, chocolate colored and long. But there were a couple streaks of gray in them, showing her age. Fiona's mother had never been ashamed to admit she was getting older, and would never so much as think about dyeing her hair like some of the other mom's suggested she do.

"Penelope Gryff's parents, Lina and Horace, are getting divorced," the woman says, lines crinkling around her eyes in fake concern. Fiona saw in her expression, however, that she was pleased to be telling the news herself.

"Oh my gosh," her mother murmured, looking truly sympathetic. "That poor girl must be devastated."

"And what's worse," the woman countered, "is that rumor has it that Horace cheated on Lina."

Fiona's mother shook her head sadly, the other mom's doing the same. Fiona had heard enough. She understood that gossip was everywhere, even in adults, but that was none of their business about something that personal. 

Fiona got up from her spot by Martie, much to his confusion, and walked straight into the adult's conversations.

"Hi, Sweetie," her mother greeted her, smiling. 

Fiona ignored her and turned to the woman. "I'm sorry, and don't mean to be rude when I say this, but I heard you talking about Penelope's parents."

"It's nothing to worry about dear." The woman reached forward and clasped Fiona's hand in hers, patting it as if to reassure her. "They're going through a rough time. Most families do."

Fiona resisted the urge to rip her hand away from the woman's and yell. Instead, she says, "I'm not talking about that. It's not very nice, nor is it any of your business, to gossip about someone's family like that. You don't know the truth of the story, and Penelope's my friend so it makes me uncomfortable when you spread rumors about her parents. It only makes things worse for her."

The adult's all stared at me in shock and surprise, not usually getting a speech like that from someone as simple as Fiona.

The woman's smile faded and Fiona took her hand away. Her mother said, "Fi."

Fiona turned and searched her mother's face, where a glint of approval and pride appeared. "You make an excellent point, Fiona, but it's nothing you should worry about."

"But Mom." Fiona crosses her arms, suddenly confused as to why her mother would tell her that. "You know that it's wrong."

"Please go back to your friends." Her mother looked away, down at her cup. "They're waiting for you."

Fiona, at a loss for words, clenched her jaw and turned on her heel, storming away.

That's when Fiona knew that her parents never gossiped around her again. They knew she was right that night, but they never told her she was. In fact, the family never spoke of it again. That didn't stop Fiona from thinking about it all the time.

Fiona entered the house, tired and full from all the tea, and slipped off her shoes. She was heading upstairs. She would successfully avoid her parents and immediately go to her room and lock the door so that she doesn't have to see or talk to them.

"Fiona." A wave of despair washed over her as she stopped, midway up the steps and groaned inwardly. She was so close.

She slowly turned around and saw her mother standing at the bottom of the steps with an unreadable expression on her face. 

"Hi, mom," she greeted weakly, attempting a smile.

"Your father and I would like to talk to you." She clamped her hands together. "In the kitchen," she added.

Fiona sighed, tucking hair behind her ears. She knew there was no avoiding the conversation to come. "Okay,  Mom." 

Her mother waited as Fiona slowly trailed down the steps. She dreaded every time her foot landed on the step that lead her closer and closer to her mom.

Once off the steps she dropped her bag down without enthusiasm and said, "Alright. Let's go."

Her father was already at the table, holding a mug in between his hands and looking out the window blankly. There were two other mugs on the table, steam rising up from both of them. Fiona instantly noted that this was going to be both serious and long. Her parents always made tea or hot chocolate when they had long and serious talks.

Fiona sat down and ignored her mug. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"Is there anything you'd like to tell us, Fiona?" Her mother asked gently, watching her daughter.

"No," Fiona lied, trying her best to put on a cheerful smile. 

"You sure?" her father asked this time, suspicious.

"I'm sure."

Her mother frowned in concern. "Then what is it I hear about you and Martie breaking up? And what explains you being gone all day?"

Fiona watched the white steam curl up from her mug and disappear into thin air. She wished she could do that, just to get out of there. "Gossip girls come over today?"

"Fiona I'm serious." Her mother sighed, crossing her arms on the table.

"So am I," she shot back defensively. "Why can't they just keep their snobby little noses out of everyone's business?"

"Fiona." Her father's sharp tone startled her, causing her to lower her eyes on her hands and grit her teeth. They never took her side whenever she tried to approach them about this exact topic on these people.

"Yes we broke up," Fiona snaps, looking out the window. She wanted nothing more than to leave this spot and go anywhere else. 

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because it doesn't matter okay?" Fiona told her, harsh toned.  She didn't care at this moment, it was a very raw topic for her to talk about but they obviously didn't care.

"Doesn't matter?" her father asks. "Sweetheart, you just went through a break up-"

"Look I'm fine okay?" she snapped, pushing her chair back and getting up. "Look, I'm sorry but I don't want to talk about it now."

"Fiona," her father warned, but she still ignored him. She snatched her bag up and ran up the stairs to her room.