Every other day

I sit and wait for the same bad news

Can you hear me say

I've got nothing left to lose

Someone please start making sense

And beg the lord for accidents

I've seen the worst-case scenario

Slowly letting go

Rescue Me by Hawthorne Heights

"It's freezing!"

"Shut up, Freddie."

"Sam."

"Right. Please shut up, Freddie."

She glares at you with her eyes, but she grins anyway. "Sam." She whispers again.

"What?" You question. "I said please."

The door opens with a satisfying click. You grin as you turn the handle and shove it open.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present my father's house."

Freddie checks his watch as he steps into the house. He's been doing that compulsively since you got on the ferry this morning. You want to make some kind of insulting joke about it, but you can't think of one. You're too distracted.

Your father's house is in a respectable part of Bremerton, which you didn't realize there was one. It's a small, light blue rambler with a nice front porch. The shades are pulled, letting light in through the front windows. The door is heavy oak with a small window towards the top. Finally committing the entering part of a B and E, you slip into the entryway, noticing the floor mat placed conspicuously next to the door for shoes. You quickly slip your shoes off and onto the mat.

Carly raises an eyebrow at you. "That's strangely considerate of you."

You point at the mat in an accusatory way. "Take yours off too. The last thing I need is him coming home to our muddy footprints going through the house. He'd know it was me."

Freddie frowns at you. "Maybe he'd think someone just broke in."

"He knew my mother, he'd know it was me." You move further into the house, switching the lock on the door. "Besides, we aren't taking anything. What kind of person just breaks in to have a look around?"

"Only long lost daughters." Freddie responds sarcastically.

You smile at him. "Exactly."

You lead them off to the right into the living room. Its sparsely decorated, only a couch and a coffee table covered in newspapers and magazines. You rummage through the papers as Carly peeks out the window. Freddie lingers just outside the room, staring worriedly at the door.

"Did you notice the For Sale sign when we walked up?" Carly questions from the window.

"No, is there one?"

"Yeah. I wonder why he's selling his house."

You shrug, unconcerned. "What does it matter? Get to digging. Go check out the kitchen."

She turns to leave the room. "It could mean he's moving closer to where you currently live to make things easier for you."

You turn to frown at her. "And why would he do that for me?"

She shrugs, heading out of the room.

Freddie bounces on his feet, jumping at small noises outside. "I think we should leave now."

You glare at him. "Stop being such a coward. We're fine." You hop back to your feet, heading back into the entry. "Nothing in there. All it says is he likes the news. Not exactly blackmail material."

"We're here for blackmail material?" Freddie squeals at you.

"Well, duh."

You glance in the kitchen at Carly, studying the curve of her spine as she arches her back to look into a high cupboard. Down the hall, there are three doors. You push the first one open, finding a surprisingly clean guest bathroom. No good. The next door. You hold your breath as you grip the handle and shove it in. The room is as Spartan as the living room. A desk, a laptop lying closed on top, three bookcases with a few books on random shelves. You walk in, eyeing the books, but there's nothing there. They're all fiction. Not even interesting fiction.

Skimming your fingers along the laptop, you considering opening it. But you aren't some kind of computer expert, Freddie is too nervous to be of service, and he probably has a password. The obvious is always wrong.

You sigh as you click the door shut behind you and approach the last door. You slide it open a smidge and step inside. Just a bed and a dresser. An alarm clock on the floor.

"Why do you have nothing in your house?" You whisper, running your hand along the dresser.

"Because I'm moving."

You scream.

Normally, you aren't one to be scared by anything, but when someone who isn't supposed to be home sneaks up behind you, its scary.

You turn slowly, guiltily, on your heels to look at him. He doesn't look angry or cocky. He doesn't even look pleased to have caught you.

"Did you call the police?" You ask, leaning against the dresser like you're the one in control.

He shakes his head. "On my daughter entering my home? Yeah, I'm sure they'd have a car on its way over ASAP."

You smile lightly. "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't that what I should be asking?"

You shake your head. "I think what I'm doing here is quite obvious. You, on the other hand…"

"Day off." He says with a shrug. "Some boy in my foyer whispered your name before sliding down my wall. I don't think he passed out. Just in shock. Pretty sure."

You nod. "Well, it's been nice chatting with you. Guess I'll be on my way."

He shuts the door, leaning into it. "Why do you hate me so much?"

"Uh, let's think. You threatened me, I've never met you before even though your supposedly my "father," you want to take me away from my home, my friends, my family. Take your pick."

He nods, disposing of your sentence. "I think you hate me because of your mother. Because maybe living with me would be better than living with her and that would insult her memory."

I frown at him. "What kind of idiotic reasoning is that?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, Sam. Just because I'm an adult doesn't mean I know everything!"

Even he looks surprised that he yelled. He slumps over to the bed, sinking down onto it and burying his face in his hands. You consider leaving. Now would seem like an easy escape. But something keeps you glued to the spot.

"Chris…"

He lifts his head to face you. "I've tried every approach I can think of with you. Being nice, bribery, threats. I don't know where to go next. I know you just lost your mother, but to alcohol poisoning. I know for a fact that wasn't her first drink. Can you try to see things from my position? I just found out I have a child! Do you have any idea what that's like?"

You shrug, ginning sheepishly. "I'm fifteen. If I have any long lost children popping up, I'm even more screwed up than I thought."

He tries to smile, but fails. "I never knew about you. She never bothered to tell me. After talking to your grandma, I thought I could give you a better life. Some part of me actually thought you'd jump at the idea. But I was wrong, of course. Its hard to be the father to someone you've never met before. I don't know how to deal with you."

You lick your lips, sitting down next to him. "Not threatening me is a start."

He finally smiles. "It's the only thing that ever worked with your mother, I thought I'd give it a shot."

You nod, feeling like a douche. "It is." You agree. Glancing around, you ask, "So where you moving to?"

"Seattle." He answers immediately. "I thought it would be an easier transition for you if I didn't take you out of your school and away from that weird boy in my foyer and the girl in my kitchen."

"Freddie and Carly." You tell him. "They're my, well, Carly's my friend. Freddie is our producer."

He nods, like he was suspecting that. "So, uh, maybe we could try again? Start over? I can't just ignore it when my blood is walking around Seattle."

You chew your upper lip in consideration. "Fine, but under my conditions. You can come have dinner at Carly's with us. I'll reserve my judgment of you until Spencer and Carly have decided whether or not they like you."

He smiles. "Done. When?"

"Wednesday." You say simply. "Be there by six or the door is locked."

"I'll be there."

You stand nervously, pacing over to the door. "Well, I should be going then."

He stands too. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not letting my sixteen-year-old daughter gallivant around on her own with her friends. Or, friend and producer."

You gape at him. "What do you- who do you think you are?"

"Your father." He grins. "Come on, I'll escort you guys back to Seattle."

Carly and Freddie are huddled in the foyer, looking frightened. Carly rushes forward to you as soon as you appear in the hallway.

"I would've warned you, Sam, but he was already heading down the hall when I noticed him." Carly shouts in your ear.

You hold her at arms' length. "Its okay. No harm, no foul."

Freddie is trying to force his right foot into your left shoe. "We should leave. Very nice house, so sorry we should go. Must leave immediately. My mother is going to kill me. Can't believe I agreed to this at all. A B and E. Gees."

You snatch your shoe out of his hand and slip it onto your foot, pointing him in the direction of his shoes.

"Chris is escorting us back to Seattle." You announce.

It's a long, silent ferry ride back to Seattle. Carly holds your hand. Freddie stares at Chris with a silent scream frozen into his features. You chuckle the entire forty-five minutes about it. He leaves you at the elevator in Carly's building, with a quiet, "See you."

Carly's questions fall on deaf ears as you space out at the glowing numbers in the elevator. They soon combine with Spencer's questions as he tries to figure out what you guys are doing home three hours before school is supposed to let out. You hear nothing until Carly locks you in her bedroom and sits on your lap to get you to focus.

"Will you please just tell me what happened so I can stop going crazy?" She asks.

You stare at her for a minute, and then kiss her with what little imagination you have left after the morning you had.

"I'm going to give him another chance." You tell her against her lips. "He explained himself, so I'm going to let you and Spencer be the judge."

She licks your bottom lip, pausing to catch your eye, before pulling back a little. "I think that's a good idea."

"You do?"

"Yes. I do."

"Why?"

"Well, I think he might just be trying to do the right thing." She shrugs.

"Is that what you got out of his actions?"

"Let's be honest, Sam," She mumbles, holding you closer. "You aren't the easiest person to get close to, or deal with in general."

"You're close to me." You point out. You weren't really referring to proximity, but she wiggles her hips in your lap in a very positive way. You grin as you kiss her neck, tasting soap on her skin, her pulse beating into your lips.

She bobs her eyebrows at you. "Only because you want me so badly."

You shrug. "Its true."

With that, her tongue slips back into your mouth, your thoughts drift to naughtier, more pleasing places.