The Truth About Lying

"It's my decision!"

"No!" He screams. "This is my family, my house-"

"Your house?" The woman laughs, "This is my house; you pay bills!"

"Why you-"

"Do it! Hit me, and I'll have you arrested!"

A 12-year-old boy held onto his little sister, asleep in his arms, covering her ears with his tiny hands, shielding her from downstairs chaos.

"Our kids are better off without you."

"I have the right to them!"

"You lost that right when you started sleeping with other women!"

"I told you, I never slept with anyone!" The man groaned, "You believe everyone in this town except the person who should matter."

"Cause all you do is lie! Where's that promotion, huh? That raise you were bragging about?"

"Krista, that's management...." He sighed, "They told me that I would get it-"

"Well, you didn't! Your daughter's sick, and moping around won't pay the bills."

"What do you want me to do? Leave them here alone at night while we both work?"

"We can get a babysitter-"

"You don't have time to look for one!" He snapped, "You don't want to leave them with your mother, and you won't let me choose either."

"Cause you'd probably get the easy young girl."

The man gave a tired laugh, "You know what, Krista? I can't do this anymore."

"What?" She watched as her husband walked to the door, "Wait, Ma-"

"Just..." He opens the front door, trying his best not to look back. "Just let me think, Krista."

Hearing the front door made the young boy sit up, setting his sister back in bed; he ran down the stairs past his mother, who was nursing a glass of wine; he threw the door open and ran out.

"Dad! Dad!"

Unlike his wife's, this is a voice the man would always respond to. He turns around and sees the boy standing a few feet away, tears brimming as he catches his breath. He waved his son over, and in an instant, the boy held on as if his life depended on it.

"Please don't go, Daddy."

"I'm sorry, buddy, but I don't want you and your sister to see me and your mom like this."

"Then we'll go back to how it was!"

"I'm not sure that that's possible, buddy." His voice was laced with so much kindness it was impossible to think he was in a screaming match with his wife moments ago.

"Where will you go?" The boy asks, looking at his dad.

"I don't know, maybe stay over at your uncle Jerry's place for the night."

As much as he'd like to keep the innocent look in his son's eyes, the boy already knew what was happening; he had heard enough parents separating stories from his friends that he felt left out of the trend.

Welcome to the club.

"Will you be getting a divorce?"

He sighed and wiped off the tears on the boy's face, "Go back inside buddy; I'll see you tomorrow."

"I have school." He sniffled.

"And who picks you up from school?"

His son gives him a toothy grin, "My rock star dad."

"That's right." His dad tousled his hair and kissed his forehead before lightly pushing him toward the house.

His wife stood by the door; the annoyed look on her face caused him more pain than it should.

"Good night, Dad."

"Good night, son; kiss your sister for me." He faked a smile and watched his son run up the door.

"I will; I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Johan."

The boy watched his dad drive off as the rain started to pour.

That was the last time he saw him.

Sebastian Michelson watched as the light rain turned into a storm, with occasional lightning followed by ground-shaking thunder. Despite the memories brought by the weather, his unease is due to the thought that his younger sister and grandmother alone at home- an old house that he would often do repairs on, the very same repairs that he's praying holding up through the storm, particularly that leak on his grandmother's bedroom.

If only she had agreed to move back to their old house, which was only across the street, he would have less to worry about. Still, the damn woman was stubborn about keeping him and his sister in her house to cut the expenses, and with that argument, Sebastian knew he had no retort.

Money had always been challenging, like water in a desert- a very, very wide desert. He had been tightening his belt since he started his teenage years. It wasn't just to make ends meet, though. It was to make enough money for his sister's weekly dialysis.

Sarah, a lively, human-like sprite six years younger than he is, would be the last person anyone would expect to be sick. She brings light to a room with just a smile, the complete opposite of his brother, who is known to be too strict or severe.

Unlike the most 24-year-old male, Sebastian had his ducks in a row way before puberty hit him, and it has been in the same place since then- family, job, family, job, family, job, and friends. His best friend would often remind him that he had his quarter-life crisis a decade too early, not that it isn't true, it's just tiring to hear.

"The party finally canceled." Fred, the bartender and manager of Dish, one of the fancy restaurants in Green Valley, announced.

Growing up in Green Valley a few years ahead of Sebastian, Fred knew that look on the younger man's face. He had let him work for him since he was a teenager, but that time it was for a whole different reason.

He glanced at the abandoned grand piano in the corner, which was now becoming a plaything for some guests who knew how to play the instrument, but he's still waiting for the day that the once happy boy who would blush after a performance that could leave any adult astounded, to start playing again.

Sebastian Michelson was not only the town's golden boy for his good grades, looks, and personality; no, there was a time that he was expected to be the boy who would put Green Valley on the map of the nation's upcoming musician. That was the plan until her mother left him and his sister to fend for themselves.

"I'm sorry for making you come in on your rest day," the owner says, "you can have Tuesday off, paid even, due to weather."

Sebastian smiled, "I'd accept that offer; thanks, Fred."

They both knew that he needed the rest, having to work four jobs on different days. Monday and Tuesday morning, he would be serving at Moe's Diner; Wednesday and Thursday, he'd be at the Pearl Grey Café and MWF at the local bar Buckmead the rest of the week except Sunday at the Dish, where he currently is.

All plans of being a successful artist were gone, not even a college degree, but Sebastian wasn't one to dwell on what he didn't have much more on what-ifs, the fact that his sister's doctor said the treatment had worked and she no longer needs weekly dialysis was enough to make him the happiest man in the world.

Still, it would be nice if he could play on his guitar again, maybe even the piano, but he of all people knew the music industry doesn't give a huge haul of money unless you get to sign a record label, one which Sebastian has no time to look for, he didn't need anything else but the food on the table, a roof over his head and enough money to get Sarah's medicine and if he was lucky enough, move back to their old house to be able to live on his own, just like how an adult should be.

"News says this isn't a storm." Alma, the waitress and another survivor of the local high school that Fred and Sebastian went to, says as she walks out of the kitchen, her apron long forgotten and her hair blowing behind her as if a fan was following her.

She sat beside Sebastian on the bar and scrolled through her new smartphone, waiting for Sebastian to take notice and start a conversation, one which she had been waiting for so long. It is no secret that she has been eyeing the blue-eyed boy since high school, just as it was not news of how the said boy did not share her feelings.

The owner smirked at the young woman, who didn't know anything about her eye candy. Sebastian was a simple man with simple wants; even a smartphone was too much for the boy.

"I'm going home."

"What?" Fred and Alma turned to him, surprised.

It was the last thing they expected from him; as much as everyone knows how much his sister and grandmother mattered to him, he was always careful not to get into fights, get sick, and, in this case, in an accident.

"Are you crazy? You can't drive in this weather!" Alma argues.

She was too late, though; Sebastian was already on his way out of the employee locker room, zipping up his jacket.

"I think your grandmother would understand if you don't make it home tonight."

"You said so yourself," He grinned, "it's' just a little rain. I'll see you on Wednesday, Fred."

Fred waved from behind the bar and watched the boy pull his hoody up and ran to his car. He turns his eyes to his annoyed waitress, who is still by the door, watching Sebastian drive off.

"Ah, young love," the owner teased, "or should I say unrequited love?"

"I'm not on the clock, so I can curse you all I want." She mumbled.

"True, but you won't." He pours a shot of tequila for her. "Not with me manning the bar."

Alma sighed and dragged her feet toward him, "Give me the whole bottle. I'd be a fucking angel."

The sudden change of weather had dampened the mood of Green Valley's newest resident, well, unofficially newest resident; she is yet to move into her newly rented.

Green Valley, a small lively town in Virginia with a population of 8,000, surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains, was a town out of a storybook with its Victorian and Mason houses. Commonly passed by buses or visited by tourists with a fascination for arts and crafts, the townspeople knew each other like family- a very chaotic family.

July Benet frowns, feeling the floor of the bus lightly shake with the road after thunder rolled over them. She had always hated storms, and for a 25-year-old woman, that was saying a lot, even after she left her home country and moved halfway around the world, in a town where she knows no one, you'd think she was braver than Joan of Arc, but no, she can feel her resolve to slip away every second as they come nearer to the bus stop, which the driver happily announced their arrival.

"Are you sure I can't drop you off somewhere safer?"

"I'd be fine, Gerry," lying through her smile, "You should get going; you don't want to be stuck longer than necessary on the road."

The older man smiled in gratitude for the young lady; he was more than worried about her physical safety; Green Valley wasn't just named, so just because of the mountains and trees surrounding it, the people were just as much a reason behind the name.

"True, and I'm sure the cranky man at the back agrees with you sweetheart."

July glanced over her shoulder, seeing the said man, now asleep, after hours of grumbling about noisy teenagers, too many bus stops, and how his son was too busy to pick him up. Deep inside, July was pretty sure his son was attempting to escape the agonizing long drive with him, throwing the other passengers in his place instead- not that she could blame him; she would have jumped in front of the very busy they were in if the man didn't fall asleep.

"Well, there's an inn a couple of corners away; you can stay there until you get to your new home." he says, "And listen, July, you seem like a nice girl, so be careful here, alright? The people here are good and all, but you know what they say about small towns."

July couldn't fight the smile on her lips; through the drive, she found out that Gerry liked to quote himself as if he was one of the wise men of the world; then again, all his quotes were true- true and funny.

"What do they say about small towns, Gerry?"

"That the only noise you'd hear is the whispers of gossip."

He watched the girl laugh at his joke, not knowing that what he said was half true for Green Valley; he should know; he had driven past the very town the last ten years hearing the same relieved sigh of every passenger he picked from the very bus stop they were on, all can't wait to get out of their bustling picturesque town with the same reason he was warning her about- gossips.

"Thanks for the warning, Gerry." She says, "Have a safe trip, alright?"

"You too." He nods before pulling a calling card from his chest pocket, "And take this, in case you need to book a ticket, call me, and I'll make a reservation for you as soon as you want."

July stared at the card and hugged the older man, "Thank you for the welcome in your, so far, amazing country."

Gerry laughed and gave the girl a salute before she stepped out of the bus and into the rain; she gave a final wave to the driver before he pulled out back into the road. The moment the taillights of the bus disappeared, she sighed and looked up the small shed that was barely doing its job of giving her shelter from the rain, not that it could do anything about the strong wind.

She jumped as another round of lightning whipped across the night sky, followed by roaring thunder. Well, it could be worse, right? She tells herself.

Pulling out her phone, she dialed the only person she was in contact with within Green Valley to inform her of her arrival; checking the time, it was only 9 pm; even old ladies sleep late.

"Yes?"

"Hi, Mrs. Michelson, it's July."

"Oh my, sweetheart, it's been a while. Are you in the airport now?" the old lady excitedly asked.

Emily Michelson, born and raised in Green Valley, was a glutton for adventure, seeing she had never been outside town except for her honeymoon and that time during her teens when she was drunk enough to drive across the boundary of town with her friends only to wake up the next day and drive back home welcomed by her then lumberjack size of a father.

Hearing the old woman's motherly voice was a nice change to her father's soft but authoritative tone; it's hard to explain what it sounds like, but one thing she can say is that it's a tone she had feared for a long time, not knowing what to expect from him afterward.

Just like how she feared if he found out that she broke her promise and left Los Angeles, making him agree to leave London was one ordeal she wouldn't want to go through again. So the moment he gave her his blessings, she agreed to all his condition, including strictly staying at their home in L.A.

Despite telling him her reasons as to why she needed to leave, she kept one reason to herself, the very reason that could have made his first decision of not being a permanent one. The same reason as to why she was in Green Valley.

"I'm already in town."

"What?" July could hear items dropping and a girl reprimanding the old woman at the end of the line, "Tell me you are safe and dry, dear."

"I can't lie, Mrs. Michelson, I'm half wet standing at the bus stop waiting for this damn rain to let off a little just so I can run down to a nearby inn."

"You're planning to stay in that place?" July frowned, hearing the disgust in the woman's voice, "I mean, I know the owner; he's a good man, but that place,"

Mrs. Michelson's hesitance made July more worried; between Gerry's warning and her proprietor's disgust, she was slowly feeling that she was better off where she was and enjoying the sound of water flowing down the sewers.

"Road Side Inn isn't the cleanest place to stay in," she continued, "not rats and cockroaches dirty, just... immoral dirty."

The edge of July's lips quirked up, amused by the woman's description and her not-so-stealthy distaste of the place. Though it did make sense, in a way, Green Valley was pretty far from other towns, and from what she had read, it was small enough to escape the judging eyes of nearby towns; the same cannot be said inside Green Valley, though.

"I'm alone anyway, and the weather would make it pretty hard to rendezvous with anyone."

"That may be true, but I want you to ask for new sheets and linens, towels and don't get in the tub, shower but don't get in the tub. Do you have water with you? Wait, let me call Andrew and tell him you're my guest; I've known the man since he was in diapers; I'm sure he'll take care of you."

Before July could put a word in the woman's hysterics, the line had already been cut off, and she was still stuck in the same situation as before, a bit wetter and now a bit cold.

London weather wasn't so far from this; then again, she had never experienced being stuck outside in the middle of a rain shower in London, so she was allowing herself to have some freedom to be scared and annoyed.

She was in the land of the free, after all.

A car made its presence known with a beep before it pulled over in front of her, and the driver rolled down his window.

"Hey, you alright?"

"Uhm, yes...?" her voice falters, revealing her uncertainty.

"Are you heading to an inn? I can drop you off."

"It's fine; I can manage."

"Not in this weather." He reached across his car and opened the passenger door, "Hop in."

July looked down the road that she'd have to walk through to the inn, then back in the car that looked warm and dry; maybe accepting help won't be so bad; she'd leave that part to the police and the morning papers if they find her body in a ditch.

She shrugged off her backpack and slid into the car, "Thank you so much; uh, you can drop me off at Road Side Inn."

"No problem." He smiled, "You took a wrong time and bus to come to town."

She laughs, "Just the weather; everything else is as planned."

"How long will you be staying?"

"No specific time frame yet." She says, "I'm in no hurry."

"Well, in my opinion," He looked to check if a car was coming out of the street he was turning into before making the turn, "Road Side Inn is not the best place for a girl to stay in, even just for a night, I suggest you go to town there are more bed and breakfast place there."

"It's fine, it's just for the night," she assured him, for unknown reasons, "I've set up a temporary home to move into by tomorrow, my landlord is unable to pick me up tonight cause of the rain, and I don't want to interrupt her either, so the inn would do for now."

The man nodded and smiled at her, "That's good. To be honest, my grandmother would pull out her hair if she saw me drive through this place."

"Well, I hope no one sees us then; I don't want to slur your reputation."

"Nah, I'll just say that I did the new girl a favor and got her out of the rain and into a man trap."

July laughs this time, "So they'd pretty much believe anything you say then?"

"I've lived here my whole life; I hope they trust me enough." His smile faltered for a moment as the car came to a stop in front of the inn.

"Small town, small world, huh?"

"You can say that," he turns to her, "it's nice to know the people you come across the street, you know? Just gets old, I guess."

"Well, I, for one, would like that peace."

Her hero for the night chuckled and gave her an amused look, "You might want to rethink the town you're staying in then."

"Well, if people here are half as good as you are, I'd take it." She says and reached out her hand, "I'm July, July Benet."

"Sebastian Michelson." He shook her hand, "You'd probably see a lot of me in town, so feel free to ask for help, even if it's an escape plan from here; on that note, welcome to Green Valley."

She laughs again, "I'd keep that in mind, Sebastian Michelson, and again, thank you for the drive and the welcome."

"No problem." He says, "See you around."

"Good night, Sebastian." She stepped out of the car and pulled her backpack over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

Sebastian waved at her through the raindrop-covered window before driving off. For a second, he looks at his rearview mirror and sees her standing outside the inn as if wanting to run after him. He wondered if he scared her from staying at the inn, he had half the mind of just offering her to sleep at his grandmother's place, but she saw her finally enter the inn. He shrugged off his plans and drove straight home, where his sister had probably made some hot chocolate for him.

July watched Sebastian drive away, wondering if the grandmother he mentioned was the same woman who hung up on her earlier. I guessed I'd find out tomorrow; she thought and entered the ill-reputed inn.

The news of the new girl spread like wildfire, and it was just a little bit past lunch. When Sebastian arrived at the diner, it was all his customers were talking about, no one knew who she was, but they had already assumed she was moving in, which slightly annoyed him.

From what he gathered from the five-minute drive he had with her the night before, July Benet is a nice girl who made the wrong decision of coming to Green Valley, whether for good or just driving by.

"I saw her walking around the fruit stands, and man..." Whistles.

"As hot as she is, it kinda makes you wonder where from, coming here in the middle of a storm..."

"Via Greyhound too, according to Andrew."

Of course, the news came from the innkeeper; Sebastian stopped himself from rolling his eyes and dumping the food he was delivering to his customers over the men sitting at the bar.

"I don't know about you, but she smells like trouble."

"Trouble for married men, you mean."

Sebastian hurriedly cleaned a nearby table, dumping the plates on the tray, wanting to run into the kitchen and away from all the gossip. He threw the rag on the tray along with the plates and glasses and rushed into the kitchen, dropping the plates at the sink, where the resident washer had not even started on, lord knows why.

Moe's diner is one of the local favorites, despite it only being about a decade old. It was where Sebastian got his first job at sixteen, back then he would come in after school and stay until closing time; Moe even let him do his homework out in the bar when all the customers had been served; that time, Moe wanted to show off Sebastian to other kids, he wanted him to be a model for the kids that walk around with their parents' money acting like it's their own.

It got Sebastian in a couple of bad grace, the reason unknown to him. Besides, he was too busy with school and getting a football scholarship to even worry about those who badmouth him, not to mention he needed to save up for college and some expenses at home.

By that time, his mother had already left to work as a nurse abroad and was sending a steady amount of money to help with Sarah's medical needs, he was excited to leave Green Valley, but by senior year, the money stopped coming, and her mother never to be heard from again.

All his money went to an account dedicated to Sarah's transplant and other medical emergencies, and his scholarship was forgotten, the university had told him they'd put it on hold, but that was only until he was 20 years of age, six years have passed, he was pretty sure he can't play for them anymore.

"What got your panties in a bunch?" Moe, the owner and self-proclaimed best chef in Green Valley asks as he grills who knows what and mixes whatever spice he can get his greasy hands on.

Moe knew the boy well enough, even though he was no local; his wife is, and she had told him Sebastian's back story and even got to watch him perform before he gave up anything music-related, which was a shame since Green Valley promotes all forms of arts and crafts, including music festivals.

Responsibility ate the boy too early, was the cook's opinion, so when he allowed him to work for him, he made it a point to tease the boy and remind him of his age. A decade later, the younger man reminds him of how childish he was despite his age. His wife laughed the first time Sebastian called him out to be childish.

"Nothing," Sebastian mumbled, dumping the leftovers in the trash and running the plate under warm water to get rid of the grease.

"People still talking about the new girl?" Kirsten, Moe's wife, asked.

"It's not like she's the first person to move to Green Valley."

"Well, she is the first person to arrive on a bus, in the middle of the stormy night, without any history or connection with this place...." Moe pointed out.

"Well, the first in about three decades."

Sebastian froze, picking up on what Kara was hinting at; he never realized it up until that moment; nonetheless, they should know how harsh the locals were on new people; Kirsten tried to escape town by studying two states over; she moved back after they married to be near her dad who was diagnosed with cancer.

As for Moe, it took him a year before people started trusting him and his cooking. He refused his wife's help, which would have made things easier as she is the late mayor's daughter, who he met in culinary school, and despite being the amazing cook that he is, he chose to open a diner. He wanted people to enjoy the food and be in their most casual clothes as they eat; they can't do that in a classy restaurant, can they?

"Anyway, she's staying at an inn; she'd probably be out of here in a day or two."

"Are you talking about the new girl?" Harry, their dishwasher, walked into the kitchen as if he owned the place.

"You're late, Harry, plates are piling, and I need them cleaned now," Moe warns, not only his tardiness but to not antagonize the already irritated Sebastian.

Harry just waved off the older man and turned to his neighbor with a knowing smirk.

"I just saw your grandmother showing her your old house."

"What?" Sebastian's eyes widened as Harry satisfyingly smiled to see trouble brewing on his co-worker's face.

"I didn't know it was for sale." He says, fake pity laced in his tone.

"That's because it's not." Sebastian snapped, which was a first for all of them in the kitchen.

To add to their surprise, he pulled off his apron and tossed it over a chair before stomping to the employee's break room.

"I'm going, Moe, Kirsten." He walked past them and straight to the doors leading to the front.

"What? You have another hour!" Moe shouts.

"Consider it an emergency leave."

"We don't have leaves."

"A favor then." He snaps as he reaches the front door, with everyone's eyes on him.

Moe was about to follow him when Kirsten stopped him and shook her head.

"He needs to do this; just let him go." She whispered to his husband.

She knew how protective he was of the boy during the time that her husband wanted to pack up and leave; it was Sebastian who stopped him when he came banging on their front door at six in the morning and begging for a job. His sister was rushed into the hospital the night before, and he needed the job to pay for her medicine.

In an instant, Moe cleared his head and calmed down, talking to the boy and setting a schedule that would work for both of them over breakfast that he made him memorize since it was a requirement for a waiter; from that point on, Sebastian was more like a son to them than just an employee.

This can't be said for Harry Anderson, who was a notorious troublemaker when he was younger; he even egged their front windows and was caught by Moe and later on punished by making him mop the whole diner for one day, non-stop. The diner never looked so clean after that.

The two just show how life wasn't fair, Sebastian being so diligent and good while Harry was the exact opposite, yet they were in the same basket.

Moe nodded and walked back to the grill, not before slapping Harry upside his head and giving him a pointed look while Kirsten worriedly thought of Sebastian.

July was still in awe of the house she was to live in; it was not what she expected, in a good way, it was her dream house. It was designed to be simple, but its elegance gave the home a touch of high class. The photos the owner sent gave next to nothing of justice compared to the actual house.

Back then, she had a feeling that the rent they agreed on was too low; after seeing the house, she was sure that it was too low. So she insisted on taking note of some parts that needed to be fixed and have it done; the house was too beautiful for it to be ruined by leaky pipes or missing roof shingles.

The moment she stood outside the house, seeing the swing at the front porch paired with two rocking chairs, the dark tone carpet and drapes had her falling in love with the house in an instant, more so when she walked through the black double doors and saw the inside of the house.

The hallways were narrow, enough for two people side by side to walk pass through until they reached the staircase; the first room on the right was the living room, which looked more like a beach house with its breezy feel and the wooden floor.

Even the space underneath the staircase was utilized; from the front door, you'd see a space to hang the coats or bags, even set your shoes, but by the hallway, the closet-looking door was a very small washroom for guests, that alone gave July the idea that whoever built the house was a couple of decades ahead of his time.

In the opposite room was the dining area, connecting to the dirty kitchen, which was a housewife's dream come true; the open space gives room for anyone brave enough to take care of the cooking, while the dining table's mismatched chairs represented the different personalities of every individual in the house but still is tight-knit as any family could be. Opposite it was the laundry room that had access to the backyard to avoid getting the floor wet.

The kitchen provided the back door leading to the back porch where a huge fireplace was set at one side surrounded by wicker sofas; it was perfect for moments you want to think and be away from what's outside the front door.

The backyard provided enough space to host a party for about 20 to 24 people, not that she'd be doing that soon, but the thought of people laughing and talking in that space gave her a warm feeling that she'd want to at least try to throw a party, someday.

Upstairs the bedrooms were so comfortable, compared to the one she had stayed in the night before, that July was already imagined all the late mornings she'd be having. The en suite bathroom was shared by the two bedrooms that overlooked the street and looked like it came out of a magazine. The guest room wasn't far behind, even having its bathroom, which was shared with other guests with a door accessible from the hallway.

There was one room by the bottom of the stairs that they weren't able to check yet, only because Mrs. Michelson wasn't able to have it cleaned, which July promised to take care of it herself as she signed the contract to finalize the deal.

"If you say so, tell me if you need help; I can send my granddaughter over, or even my grandson if he has the time."

"I'll be fine; it's just one room," July says, handing her the pen and her copy of the contract.

"Great, now the rules are in the contract, but the most important one is no major renovations; if you want to change anything, you have the right to do so, just don't knock down walls; the last thing I need is for my grandson to look like I murdered him."

"Grandma!"

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear!" the older woman mumbled, making July giggle. "Kitchen!"

The next second, Sebastian appeared at the door, out of breath, almost wheezing after running for the last fifteen minutes from the diner to his house, the whole walking in the house and making his presence known with just his stance and look was out of the window seeing he looked more like a panting dog.

"Good lord, did you run from the diner?"

He nodded, hunching over, grabbing the edge of the kitchen island for support as he took deep breaths; the ache on his side was ever-present with every breath he took, and he had to squeeze unto it to stop hurting.

July hurriedly grabbed the bottled water from the side of her bag and uncapped it for the boy, who snatched it from her hand, drinking half of its content before pouring it over his head, shoulders still going up and down as he took deep breaths and try to calm his lungs.

"Sebastian, you're making a mess!"

"Your. Fault." He gasped in between breaths.

"Is it really?" the old woman crossed her arms, bringing out her 60-year-old sassiness. "It wasn't you overreacting to what probably the Anderson boy told you?"

Hearing the arrogance in his grandmother's tone, Sebastian took one deep breath and stood at his full height, glaring at his grandmother before raining down with his wrath.

"Why didn't you tell me you were selling this house?" He snapped. "Our house! I trusted you, Grandma! I didn't move in cause you said it would mean paying two of everything, and we didn't need the additional bills! You said once Sarah is better, I can move back here, just like I begged you all those years ago!"

July watched the two glaring at each other; like that very movement, they were already exchanging words of anger. Hearing Sebastian's argument made her wonder if her transaction with the older Michelson was legal.

Emily Michelson wasn't having his attitude and lack of manners, especially not in front of her new tenant. Not to mention she hated how he was looking at her right now, like she backstabbed him, exactly like how he looks when someone mentions his mother, the look of revulsion. He didn't understand that the money they would earn from the rent would help them so much that he could quit two of his jobs; though she won't tell him that, she was sure that he'd just laugh at her and leave for work

"Are you done?" she asked, which was met with angry silence; knowing her grandson, there was no talking to him until she calmed down. "I swear, Sebastian, you listen to that trouble-making Anderson boy more than me," she sighed. "I'm not selling the house; we needed the money; we had a house available to be rented out"

"My house, grandma, it's my house," Sebastian claimed.

"And it's unused. I still think it's financially irrational for you to live here when you can live with me and your sister."

"Sarah would be eighteen soon; we can move back-"

"And how would you live exactly? From the food you scrape from the diner? The restaurant? Sarah is still recovering, and though she is fully capable of taking care of herself, she is still under my care; until then, I will make decisions that are good for this family and not just so I can give you two what you selfishly want."

Sebastian held his tongue back with whatever retort he had brewed up, not because he didn't want to argue with his grandmother or that it was awkward to have the said argument in front of a foreign stranger, but more because he had never heard his grandmother so angry and blunt.

At the same time, he knew he had to hold his ground, or else his home would no longer be his; the only sense of freedom that he had hoped for to get in having a house of his own was being taken away from him, just like everything in his life.

July froze in place, not wanting to be part of the argument, though she knew she was the beginning and end of it, and she had a feeling unless she stepped in, the bad blood between the grandson and grandmother would have no end, even after she leaves.

"Grandma, I get it; we need money." He says in almost a whisper. "But this is my home; this is the only thing I have of Dad; please understand."

Watching her grandson beg was making her heartache; it hurt her seeing him hurt, but she needed to see the bigger picture and solve their problem, not just his. She knew everything that he had given up for his sister, everything he had done for their family, and taking away the home that held every bitter memory of his parents was the cherry on top. She was seriously worried about what it would do to Sebastian, but she had to make a decision; she had to think of Sarah and her condition too.

She was old enough to know that anything liver-related sickness does not easily get treated; the account Sebastian opened in the bank wouldn't even make a dent in what they'd have to pay for when she pushed through the transplant, which was slowly looking bleak. Her recovery was pushing her down the priority list, and if she gets sick again, surely, Sebastian would have nothing to hold on to.

"Mrs. Michelson?"

The two turned to their new tenant, who was sheepishly standing on the other side of the island; she needed the distance to keep safe from the angry man across her.

"July, I'm sorry; I don't mean for you to hear all that."

"It's fine," she raised her hand and gave them both a smile, "I completely understand where your grandson is coming from, this is his home, and he's protecting it."

Sebastian sighed in relief, hearing the sincerity in her voice, and if she was even half-decent like he thinks she is, she would be out that door in a minute and never to shadow the front steps again. The next step would be Sebastian looking for another work to make the amount of money she would have paid his grandmother monthly with her rent.

"But," Sebastian frowned, "as much as I'd like to give you back your home, I've already transferred the money to your grandmother's account, and I need the place to stay in, cause like you said, Road Inn is..." the mention of the place and idea of July going back there for another night gave the three the shivers. "So, I have a proposal."

"A proposal?"

"Yes," Feeling good and hopeful about her idea. More hopeful, though. "How about being my stay-in landlord?"

"Excuse me?"

"He could move in; he could be your eye on me or something." She explained, "You were worried about me living alone, and he's worried about his home; you are just across the street; I don't see any harm in him moving in. I'll pay the same rate and even shoulder the grocery and bills."

"You'll pay the same rate?" The Michelsons asked in unison.

"This is a beautiful home; it should be lived in." She says, looking around the kitchen, remembering every room she saw earlier, "Besides, this is too big for one person; I just need a bedroom and a place to work in. The rest of the downstairs would be a commonplace."

"You don't have to do this, July; I'm sure I can make Sebastian understand."

"Consider it. Thank you for last night."

"Last night?"

"Yes, Sebastian gave me a ride to the inn last night." July said, "I didn't expect that you two would be related though. Last night showed me what kind of person he is; I can trust a reliable guy like him around here. Plus, if another of those storms comes again, I'm pretty sure he'd be handy to have around."

"That is true." His grandmother mumbles. "Still..."

"It's fine if you don't agree," July quickly says, "Or if Sebastian still doesn't want me here-"

"It's ok." Sebastian cut her off, "I'll move in."

They both looked at his grandmother, who was just giving them both a look.

"Are you sure about this July?"

July smiled at the older woman, thankful for her maternal care even if it was against her grandson.

"Yes, I trust him, so I don't think there's anything to worry about."

She sighed and gave in to the young woman, knowing the news of her grandson moving in with her would make headlines by the end of the day, but it's not like he ever cared about the gossip, and she trusted both of them, her grandson was way too busy to even notice the beautiful woman across from him who was in love to the home that he was protecting.

It would be fun to watch what happens, she mischievously thought. It is about time that her grandson is talked about for having a lady in his life, whether in a loving relationship or just tenant-landlord; she'd take it.

"Great!" July clapped and beamed a smile to her landlords, "I'm glad that's all settled."

"Not yet," the older Michelson shook her head, "if my grandson would be living under your care, I am expecting you to call me grandma Em."

"Excuse me?"

"All of my grandchildren's friends do, at least those who I like."

July laughed and lent out her hand, "I think that deserves a handshake, grandma Em."

Grandma Em shook her hand, "Now everything is settled." She turned to her grandson expecting a thank you at least, but of course; there was nothing. "Anyway, is there anything else you need, sweetheart?"

"Well, I'd need to get some groceries, so if you can show me where-"

"Sebastian can drive you."

"I have work."

The sudden pain in his midsection got Sebastian groaning from his grandmother nudging his ribs with her elbow, probably bruising two of his bones; it was more painful than the tackles he received when he was playing football.

"I can drop you off." He mumbled, holding on his torso, "Again."

The last part earned a glare from his grandmother, making him raise one hand in case she hit him again.

"You don't have to."

"It's fine," he shrugged, "let me just change."

"Alright, let me just freshen up as well." She says, grabbing her backpack from the top of the island and pulling it over her shoulder, just like last night. "Oh, which room is your parents'?"

"First door on the left."

"You can have that room then."

"What?"

"That's the biggest room, not to mention it has its bathroom."

"It's not my house, though." She grinned, "Besides, the guest room has a perfect bathroom."

They watched her jog up the stairs, her long wild curly hair flew behind her, and the moment she was out of sight, Sebastian felt another slap on the back of his head.

"What the hell, grandma?"

"You're living with a lady now, don't swear."

"I've lived with you and Sarah for forever," He reminds her, "I think I have enough experience with living with a girl."

His grandmother was not the least impressed by his response, and it showed with her look and stance, "If I still need to nudge you when you are being rude, it makes me think you lack experience."

With that said, she walked out of the kitchen and shouted a See you later to the new girl leaving Sebastian with his thoughts of whatever it was he just got himself into.

Booze, pee, and pissed men mixed is enough to make anyone barf.

July looked around the bar and saw it was filled with old men with young women in their arms clad with barely anything, by choice from the looks of it. The weather from last night came back with a vengeance and reduced the customer in half the last ten minutes, and she couldn't be more thankful as a majority of the customers seemed to be regulars at Road Inn rather than the bar she was in.

After checking out the stores that Sebastian told her were the best place to buy fresh vegetables and meat, she walked around town and decided to do the groceries tomorrow, bright and early, hoping she could borrow Grandma Em's car rather than hailing a cab. So for the rest of the day, she played tourist in Green Valley.

By 8 pm, she was hungry enough to randomly enter the nearest place that serves food which was Buckmead, and even that early night, there were more than half a dozen people already drunk out of their wits, boisterous and obnoxious.

Out of habit, Sebastian turned to the door when he heard it open; his mouth dropped seeing his new housemate walk in, her hair slightly wet, the rain just begun minutes before she came in. The good thing about Buckmead, it was, usually, most people from nearby towns or tourists, but with the weather tonight, he's guessing the locals will be the one left assessing the new girl who was equally stuck in the bar with them.

"What can I get you?"

July turned around to be greeted by a muscular man standing behind the bar, his shirt tight enough to show off the muscles underneath. Unlike most boys back home who'd flex their muscles to impress her, the bartender did nothing to catch her attention; the mere fact that he was standing behind the bar and not by the door surprised July on its own.

"Oh, Uhm, just soda, please."

The bartender gave her a once over, "You sure about that?"

"I don't drink."

"Well, you are in the wrong place, but it will be a nice change to drunken men on my bar." He poured a can of soda in a glass with ice, moved it across the bar toward her, and lent out a hand. "On the house, I'm Simon."

"July Benet." Shaking his hand.

"Let me take your coat for you." He says.

"Oh, I didn't have any." She blushed at the stupidity, "It was warm when I left home; I didn't expect the sudden downpour."

"Well, if you are staying at Green Valley for a while, I suggest always keeping one in handy; I swear it isn't like we have our weather system here."

"Duly noted."

"I'm guessing you're the new girl everyone is talking about?"

"Is that what everyone is calling me?"

"They are yet to put a name to that angelic face of yours, sweetheart." He grins and starts on an order for a patron. "So what is a a-non-drinking lady like you doing in a bar?"

"I just wanted to see the town's nightlife," She looks around and sees men groping the barely covered women now, "and this is not what expect for a small town."

"It's the fact that we're a small town that we get away with this stuff." Simon grins, "Then, there's him."

July turned toward the stage and saw Sebastian stepped into view. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are finally moving to our open mic, so if you have any requests or would like to sing a song, feel free to come up the stage; requests are handed over to the DJ's booth."

July watched Sebastian walk down from the stage and make way to a table, pulling out a pad to take down the customer's orders, she watched the man who looked more like the one from last night, and as far as she was concerned, the man in her kitchen earlier was just a figment of her imagination.

"Sebastian Michelson, the town's golden boy." July hears Simon say, "Graduated top of his class and an amazing musician."

"He plays here?"

"No darling, he stopped playing a little after he graduated for personal reasons. He was a great guitar player and an amazing singer; heard he used to play the piano when he was younger too. Now he's the poster boy for perfect brother and grandson, a model citizen, and the most hard-working fellah I know."

"What's he stuck here for?"

"You're making it sound like he's in jail." The bartender teased, "But as I said, for personal reasons, his mom left him and his younger sister to work abroad, never came back, money stopped coming as well. The same year his sister's health turned for the worse, not that she was very healthy to begin with. He dropped everything he planned for college and started working multiple jobs."

July watched as Sebastian passed by them, not even noticing her as he pinned the piece of paper on the board between the bar and kitchen, which the cook snatched it from to prepare. It was obvious Sebastian was lost in his thoughts as he just stepped out of the bar and went to another table to take their order and, later on, clean up one of the tables filled with empty bottles and an overflowing ashtray.

"I heard, aside from a football scholarship, he also got into a prestigious music school somewhere in the country, but he dropped it the second his sister was rushed to the hospital."

"What about his dad?"

"Left when he was around 12, I think." He sighed, "The town asshole married the town princess; at least, that's what they say."

"You don't think so?" July raised a brow and turned to him.

"I never met the man," He nods to another customer, "but from how Sebastian talks about him, I don't think he's like what everyone says he is."

July gave a nod and continued to watch Sebastian, and caught him staring at the stage, which was empty for the next fifteen minutes until a man drunkenly walked up the stage and started singing When You Say Nothing At All.

She frowned in annoyance, hearing the man murder a beautiful song; being drunk shouldn't be a reason to perform this badly. She'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than this.

"Until the rain lets up, they'll get more plastered, and you'd be hearing more of songs like that," Simon grins, "might as well test your patience or see how true mind over matter is."

July shook her head; she'd probably lose her mind if she continued hearing the people do karaoke in their drunken state.

Of all his 24 years of living, he has never made such a wrong decision other than drinking with the patrons while waiting for the rain to let up. They exchanged stories, and laughter was loud. Cheers were made with glee, ordering more alcohol.

Now he's paying for his momentary lack of common sense, and he blames the woman in the bar that seemed to have made quite an impression on her boss as they were lost in their little world talking and laughing, the same woman who is probably suffering the same fate as he is across the hall from him.

Listening to his alarm repeating every five minutes wasn't helping with the headache, but he welcomed the music, remembering when he recorded it. The constant beat of the drum that accompanied his guitar beat along with his throbbing head, in a way, punished himself for the last night. He barely remembers anything after his fourth beer and two glasses of martini curtsy of one of the patrons.

His alarm plays again, probably the sixth time that hour; he rolls to his side and groans. It was the first time in a long time that he had the urge to stay in bed and not go to work; the last time was when he was in his senior year, and he was in the middle of college applications and exams; a teenager could only take so much. To top it off, he monitored his sister's progress, whether the dialysis and medications worked.

He dropped a pillow over his head, pushing out the memories; what annoyed him most was that it wasn't his alarm that woke him but the dream of his past that caused sleep to elude him at the last hour.

He was giving himself a pep talk to at least sit up as he needed to be in the café in half an hour. Still, fate had its plan and came in the form of an English woman, wearing a spaghetti-strapped top and loose sweat pants, armed with coffee and a bottle of what looked like Gatorade, knocking on his opened door.

His laziness in closing the door when he went to the bathroom in the hallway was now kicking him in the ass.

"Interesting alarm," He hears her from under the pillow, "Do you mind?"

Sebastian shrugged and sat up, only to realize that he had no shirt on, another thing to ponder later. Seeing he didn't dismiss her, July braved entering the room and handed him the Gatorade, earning a questioning look.

"Contrary to common belief, coffee doesn't help with the hangover; you need to rehydrate, so I got you that." She explained, "I also have coconut water downstairs, or do you prefer regular water?"

"It's good." Sebastian says, unsure of what was going on, his brain still failing to work; the pain inflicted by his grandmother yesterday throbbed as if reminding him of his manners, "Thank you."

She flashed him a smile before turning her back and going through one of the boxes piled in the corner of the room. He kept his eyes on the girl with a messy bun exposing her shoulders and neck from her usual curtain of hair; her extremely short drawstring shorts showed off her toned legs. She had a naturally curvy body, unlike those skinny girls he serves at work spouting about finally getting their thigh gaps.

At that point, Sebastian realized he liked the curves more than the gap.

"By the way, I hope you don't mind me sleeping in your room."

Sebastian spat the drink over his bare torso and the bed covers he didn't recognize. "What!"

July caught the laugh in her throat before it slipped out of her and embarrassed the man sitting half-naked on a bed she had prepped yesterday afternoon.

"You slept on my bed, so I slept on yours." Sebastian still doesn't understand, earning a sigh from the woman, "You're staying in your parents' room, remember?"

Common sense finally comes in small portions, remembering their arrangement and her insisting on him taking the bigger room.

"You can stay there." He mumbled, "It has a walk-through closet, and you can call dibs on the bathroom too; I don't mind. It looks like you need more space than I do anyway."

Looking around, he noticed that his room was half full of boxes.

"Are you sure? Cause I can keep these in the boxes-"

"It's fine; it's the least I can do; you are paying for everything around here, besides...." He glanced at the window, it was perfectly adjacent to the house across, and he could see a little bit of his room and Sarah's.

July followed his eyes, understanding what he meant. Every moment with Sebastian was like a peeling onion, every layer looked the same, but there was more to it, and each had reason to fall into tears. July had no siblings, so seeing a big brother going beyond the overprotective character was new to her.

"Your sister is welcome here, you know." Sebastian turned to him. "This is her house, too, after all."

"She's still a minor," He says, "and under grandma's care, so that might need time."

"Well, the offer has no expiration, so feel free to cash in anytime." She beamed him another of her smile before sipping her coffee.

He may be unable to keep his eyes from wandering; he can try. No matter what his grandmother says, a nice sweet girl is not welcome in his home; she's dressed in sheep's wool, waiting for the right moment to reveal her real identity, a she-wolf, just like everyone in his life.

"I thought coffee doesn't help with the hangover."

"It doesn't, well, doctors say, I don't know if it's true." She shrugged her shoulder.

"Is that why you get to drink it?"

"Huh, oh! No, I'm not; I don't have a hangover; I don't drink."

Sebastian was confused, "What were you doing at the bar last night?"

"I got caught in the rain and got hungry, so I went to the nearest place serving food." She sat at Sebastian's old computer chair, "Not that the place was fun."

"You looked like you were having fun, though," he mumbled, taking another sip.

"Well, Simon is hilarious." She laughs, remembering his conversation with the big man, "He was telling me a few things about the town, what to avoid and what to expect, and a little about the golden boy too."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, remembering the nickname he got when he was in middle school. "Whatever he said, don't believe all of it; it's probably not even a quarter true."

"Oh, so you weren't the class valedictorian despite having to work and take care of your sister?"

Sebastian stared down at the almost empty bottle he was holding; it's not like he hated compliments; he instead is recognized for his accomplishments as much as the next man; it's just it's all in the past. The glory days were over for him even before it began.

"You were quite a teenager," she smiled, "I don't think I know anyone who could do what you did, especially with your sister. That one I would drink for with cheers."

Sebastian felt his face burn before forcing a smile, "Thank you."

"Anyway, I brought breakfast, so if you want to join me, get your butt out of bed." She says, walking out of the room, "We're at home, not a bed and breakfast."

Sebastian laughed at that one, remembering he advised her to go to one on her second day, preferably far from Road Side.

He tossed the comforter off him and saw that he still had his boxers on; thank the lord, he looked around to search for his clothes, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Oh, I tossed your shirt in the drier about an hour ago; it's probably done now; your jeans folded on top of the washer too."

"You didn't have to wash my clothes."

"I did need to," she says, "you sort of threw up last night and got it all over your clothes."

"Oh god," he leaned over, his elbows on his knees, his face behind his hands. "was Simon mad? Did he fire me?"

"He did say you'd ask that." She chuckled, "He was more worried about you; he said you were distracted about something and that you hardly drank; despite him being glad that you were acting more like your age, he drew the line when you challenged him to a shot war."

"Oh god, he's so gonna fire me."

"No, he won't." she assured him, "Simon means well; he seems to believe you compared to most people here."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you he mentioned a few stories about you, most of them he did retell with disgust as if not believing the very words he was saying. So, yeah, I think he cares about you."

Sebastian looked away; he had known Simon since the man moved to town to look after his uncle, who was getting too old to live alone. He later on, opened a pub; he used to be a bartender in the city after all, and brought more life and people from towns over. Not everyone liked the crowd he was attracting, but it did business in Green Valley; that was enough to fake a smile or two.

"Anyway, he helped you into the car and let me drive you home."

"You told Simon we lived together?"

"No, just that I know our grandmother." She says, "I remembered everything you told me when you dropped me off at the inn. So don't worry; your reputation is safe with me."

"That's not what I meant." Lie.

Like the man she met at the bus stop, July watched him get lost for words, not looking at her. Or the one who quickly walked from one table to another, taking orders and cleaning tables. Each step was made with purpose and determination, and it was intimidating for some new customers.

"Listen, Sebastian," July stood by the door like she was testing the man she was living with. "I have no intention of taking over your home. I know the importance of a family and everything that comes with it; you don't have to worry about anything. If you don't want me here, you must tell me."

Sebastian felt shame run through him, mentally giving his brain a sarcastic thanks as he forced himself to look up at the strong woman standing by his door, not backing out of his weak attempts of making her feel unwelcomed.

"Thank you." That was all he could muster up.

"Good, now c'mon, the food's getting cold."

July released the breath she was holding and went downstairs; she didn't want to ignite any more unnecessary fire against Sebastian. July knew her place, and it wasn't in their shared house. Still, as much as she loved the house, she had no intention of buying it and won't need properties under her name in a foreign land. At the same time, the reason she loved the house was the feeling of it being lived in by a family before she moved in. It wasn't a fairy tale, but it was better than hers.

Sebastian stepped into the laundry room, clean of cobwebs and the clothes his mother left. Smiling, he remembered the times he and his dad had in that small man cave of theirs. Given that manly was the last thing the room was, their moments in that room taught him what a man should be, the kind of man his father was.

He opened the cabinet overhead and found the comic books they stacked there, the same comic books his dad used to teach him to read while he did the laundry, teaching him the big words he'd repeat with a huge smile.

"Is it ok?" he hears July from the kitchen.

Sebastian snapped out of his reminiscing, opened the drier, and frowned, "Yeah...."

July heated the food she bought and finished her coffee when Sebastian stepped out of the laundry room.

She smiled and turned to face him, "I thought you got lost in holy crap! Did I do that?"

Sebastian pulled out the culprit from his back pocket. July's eyes widened as she snatched his red knickers from the boy; so much for starting over.

"A yes would have been enough."

"It got twisted with my shirt."

"I am so sorry." She groaned, embarrassment eating her up. "I must have missed it when I was doing laundry yesterday."

"It's fine; uhm, I've never had a pink shirt before."

"Well, even if pink looks great on you, this has my stupidity written all over it." She shook her head and pushed her curls away from her face, "I'll get you a new shirt."

"No, it's fine-"

"No, it's not, I'm sure it's one of your work shirts, and I was the wanker who didn't double-check the wash."

Sebastian looked at her surprise and then laughed.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, it's nothing."

"No, what is it?"

"Well," Sebastian chuckled again, "you just said wanker."

"Yeah, and?"

"Uhm, I don't know what wanker means at your end of the world, but here it's, uhm...."

He made a hand gesture, and July made a questioning face. "Mmm?"

"Forget it; just don't use that word here."

"No, tell me what it means."

"You sure?"

"Yes," July said with authority and crossed her arms.

"It means someone who masturbates... usually a male someone."

"What!"

"Yeah..."

"Holy fuck..." she walks out of the room with Sebastian on her tail. "I'm so gonna kill Smith."

"Smith?"

"The tosser who told me it meant stupid." She mumbled.

"Well, maybe you can call him a... you know."

July stifled a laugh, "I'm not usually out of sorts, and I rarely cuss too, and now I know why."

"Well, maybe you can stick to the basic, like sh*t or f*CK...."

She hid behind her hand, still laughing. "I feel like a schoolgirl caught saying a bad word."

"It's more of the wrong word."

Her laughter echoed in the kitchen, "I'll stick to the basics or maybe just shut up altogether."

Sebastian laughs, "Best decision ever; kept me out of trouble my whole life."

"I know!" She looked around the kitchen and grabbed the cookie jar, "Do you bake?"

"No."

"Good, so do I." she pulled out a dollar from whatever magic pocket was in her bra or top and dropped it in the jar, "Let's make a rule, no potty mouth inside the house."

"What?"

"No potty mouth inside the house; you'll have to toss a dollar in the jar for every bad word you say."

"And if I don't?"

"Penalty of one dollar."

"How would you know if I paid or not if you're out of the house?"

She gave him a look, "Do you want me to put surveillance cameras all over the house? Cause I will."

"Just for the potty mouth pot?"

July laughs, "I like that, Potty Mouth Pot, and yes, just for the Potty Mouth Pot."

"Does it need to be pulled out from inappropriate pockets?"

"I didn't know I was living with a perv."

"Are you sure you aren't the drunk one?"

"Are you sure that's the only clothing I can turn pink?"

"Touché." Sebastian grinned, "Ok, a dollar per bad word."

"Good." She stood and grabbed an apple. "Anyway, I have a lot of moving around to do, so here's your breakfast, car keys are on the bowl by the door, and I suggest you get a move on the cause. According to your grandma, you should be at work in 15 minutes."

"Oh shit!" He checked the time and ran off toward the front door.

"Food!" He ran back to grab the plate with a sandwich and ran back out with it. "And that's a dollar for cursing!"

"You turned my shirt pink!"

"Touché..." July smiles, satisfied with her new development with Sebastian that morning; childish as it may have been, it still put them in a better place than yesterday.

This might work, she tells herself.

That was wrong.

During the extremely short drive to the diner, Sebastian gave himself a mental slap for being too friendly with July. He drank all night to make him see the cons of having her in his house, but after that first joke, all the thinking went down the drain. Or maybe he came up with nothing during his drinking spree, as he can't remember anything from the night before.

What he does know is that the laughing session they had earlier can't happen again; he needed her out of the house, Sarah's birthday is coming soon, and he planned on moving back to the house as his gift, maybe turning his dad's old office to her mini library.

Before that could happen, he needed to get July Benet out of the house; Sebastian glanced at the half-eaten club sandwich on his dashboard, he had half the mind of throwing it outside, but his stomach protested, and quite frankly, he thought his brain needed a kick start.

With only a minute to spare, he pulled up to the front of the diner and ran inside, where Moe and Harry stood behind the bar watching him with amusement. Kirsten, the voice of reason amongst his co-worker, was nowhere to be found, so he was sure that he'd be teased by the terrible two until she returned.

"Am I late?" he asks, out of breath and running to the back to get his uniform and apron.

I need to get back into shape, he says to himself. Not that he was all flab looking at him. He is a guy who spends half the day working out; he should get into running to get his breathing better.

"Almost." His boss says, "Harry and I were making bets that you would be late when you didn't arrive ten minutes ago."

"Were you now?" Sebastian returned with his mind ticking off his to-do list; the window needed cleaning today.

"Yes," Harry says, leaning over the bar watching him, "I said you'd be late because of your new lady friend."

Sebastian froze and turned to the two, who had a knowing smile on their face.

"So you moved in with the little lady from...."

"I don't know." Sebastian returned to the task, "If you want to know anything about her, ask her."

"So you're saying we can visit your house now." Harry asks, "I mean, I could; married men should stick to their wife's side."

"I'm not visiting anyone or going anywhere." Moe rolled his eyes, "I just want to know the real deal about this girl."

"Well, Mom said she's nice, probably too nice." Harry tossed his face over his shoulder, "She went around the neighborhood introducing herself like she was obligated to do it, even-handed out some tea or something; I heard she's British or somewhere around that area."

"I don't know," Sebastian answers, spraying soap on the window and wiping it off.

"Imagine waking up to that accent," Harry groaned, "I'd probably have my hands down my pants the whole time."

Sebastian smirked, remembering the English slang lesson situation earlier in the kitchen.

"You have something to share, golden boy?" Harry asks, catching the quirk of his neighbor's lip quirk.

Sebastian quickly frowns and continues cleaning the window. "Nothing."

"Have you-"

"If you men are done planning on defiling an innocent girl, please do it in your own time and not in the diner; thank you," Kirsten shouts from the kitchen.

"Harry was defiling the girl!" Moe shouts and hurries inside the kitchen.

"I was complimenting the girl, mom." Harry rolled his eyes and smirked at Sebastian, "Finally found the balls to get yourself a girl, fine choice too."

"I'm not trying to get anything," Sebastian says, tired of the conversation already.

"If I didn't know you since we were kids, I would think you're gay."

"Not because I'm not stripping her naked in my mind means I'm gay; Grandma just taught me better than that."

The rest of the day was similar to the previous one, only this time, they had tagged her as a drunkard and said to have checked in at the Road Side with three men she picked up from Buckmead for an orgy. He wouldn't know because his brain decided to block out the entire night, but he was pretty sure that if she were indeed in an orgy, she wouldn't have been so energetic that morning.

Not only that, their living arrangement had made its headline in the local gossip vine, and every man had congratulated him, and every woman had given him some unnecessary advice.

"Keep a knife under your pillow just in case; a girl with no background surely means trouble." Mrs. Howards says, "I don't want Gina around her when she visits your sister."

"They'd probably be at grandma's place anyway," Sebastian says, ignoring the woman's knife advice.

At the same time, the bell hanging over the door announced a new customer, giving him a reason to leave the snob woman to her lunch, but hearing the familiar voice made him think again.

"Grab a table, and we'd be right with you," Moe says from the kitchen.

"Thanks, I'm here for Sebastian?"

Everyone in the café fell silent.

"Oh, uh..." Moe looks around, "Sebastian!"

He sighed, picked up the tray of used plates and glass, and walked toward July.

"Hey!" She greeted.

"What are you doing here?" his voice dropped into a whisper, knowing everyone was listening.

"I just came to drop this off." She pulls out a key, "I got it copied."

"Ok, thanks." He takes the key and sees Moe and Harry from the kitchen peeking. "Is that all?"

July was surprised by the underlining anger in his tone, thinking she probably came in during rush hour; she looked around and noticed that everyone's eyes were on them, not even hiding their curiosity about her; that's when things fell into place.

"I was making myself familiar with the town, looking around; this is a cute place." She looked around and smiled at some people, then leaned in and whispered, "They're staring. Should I wave?"

Everyone snapped back into their business and started talking as if on cue. Sebastian chuckles; if only he weren't in the middle of their scrutiny or the crowd wasn't faking it, he would find this more than impressive.

"Nice." He says, fighting the urge to laugh.

"Works every time." She grins.

"Anyway, have you had lunch?"

"Yes, before I left the house." She nodded, "Oh, by the way, I need your shirt size."

"What for?" Sebastian asks, surprised, voice dropping lower.

"For the one, I owe you after the knickers-drier incident."

A gasp escaped nearby, someone even dropped their utensils on their plate, and pots and pans seemed to have fallen off their hooks from the kitchen; Sebastian closed his eyes as if fighting an imaginary pain.

"That came out wrong..." She hissed.

"Medium," Sebastian smiled, "medium would be good."

"Alright, got it." She turned to leave, but two men blocked her path.

"Hi, I'm Harry, Harry Anderson. We're neighbors."

"Oh," July nods, shaking his hand. "Hi, Harry."

"It's like I'm Harry Potter right now." The big child squealed, making Sebastian roll his eyes.

"I'm Moe Cooper, the owner. Ignore the ogre."

"Hi, Moe." She glanced at Sebastian as if silently asking for help, who shook his head, just as lost as she was.

"Have you had lunch? I can make you anything you want." Moe says.

"Thank you, I'm good."

"You met my mom yesterday...." Harry cuts in, "Mrs. Anderson."

"Oh, yes, charming woman." July smiled, "Did she like the tea?"

"She loved it." he laughs, "She wanted to say thanks; we had it this morning; it was amazing and made my morning very posh. Thank you."

Sebastian face-palmed himself, hearing Harry's attempt to of an English accent.

"Would all of you give the girl a break?"

They all turned to the woman over the counter, hands on her hips, glaring at the boys.

"Yes, ma'am." The two half ran into the places in the kitchen while the woman turned to July with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry; people around here turn dumb regarding new arrivals."

"It's fine," July grinned, "If I'd known, I would have locked myself at home."

"Wouldn't change a damn thing, believe me," glancing at their customers before extending her hand to her, "Kirsten Cooper, thing one's wife."

"That would be me." More shots from the diner.

July laughed and shook her hand, "July Benet."

"Are you off somewhere? Can I interest you in food? Despite his appearance, my husband is a culinary genius."

"Thanks, hon!"

"Despite his appearance," Sebastian repeats.

"Thanks, but I just had lunch, and I'm going to shop for some things at home."

"Oh, well, my shift is over; I can go with you." Kirsten pulled off her apron.

"You just came in." Moe accused.

"And I'm part owner." The older woman smiled over her shoulder and tossed his apron, "I'm leaving you in charge, Sebastian."

"The other owner is here too!"

"The said owner was being an ass." Kirsten winked at July as she walked around the bar. "I'll be home by dinner; you boys behave and don't burn the diner."

"I can't promise anything, Kirsten; I'm washing the dishes; how can I avoid not burning anything?"

"Just do your jobs." She snaps.

"I'll see you at home, Sebastian." July says, "By the way, I was expecting the phone company to hook up the internet this morning, but they didn't arrive, and I have errands to run this afternoon. Do you mind watching out for them for me?"

"I'll sign for you." Sebastian nodded.

"You are an angel." July sighed in relief, "Thank you, I'll see you home! It was nice to meet you, Harry, Moe; your diner is gorgeous."

"Thank you."

"It was nice to meet you, July." Harry waves at the woman who is outside and has half a mind to run away.

Kirsten followed July out the door and glanced at Sebastian, who thanked her silently. She grew up in Green Valley she managed to escape until her father died; she knew what it was like to be gossiped about, Sebastian does too, but he chooses to ignore it. How and why he does it is a mystery to her.

Unlike her and Sebastian, who are cut from the same cloth, this girl was being sewn in with them, which was low even for the oldest of the locals.

She knew Moe meant well when he wanted to meet the girl; she couldn't say the same for Harry, and knowing the boy, he would use July to torment Sebastian, who has enough on his plate as it is to add any more inappropriate rumors on it.

Everyone watched July pass by and break into whispers the moment she was out of sight.

Sebastian had never felt more relieved in his entire life, not even after receiving good news about Sarah's positive response to her treatment.

"Raised Right by my grandma, my ass." Harry barks a laugh as Sebastian enters the kitchen with a tray full of dirty dishes, "There's already a knickers accident, and if I'm not mistaken, that is-"

"Get your head out of the gutter Harry," Sebastian warns.

"Oh c'mon, just the gist."

"It was a laundry accident." Sebastian snapped, "Give the girl a little respect."

"I will if she deserves it," Harry says, raising a brow before returning to the kitchen. "Bet she was at Road Side Inn last night."

Sebastian looked at the door and sighed; I need to get rid of her soon, good or not.

July watched the woman who tagged along with her, careful of what she could unleash once they were left alone. She was aware of what the woman did at the diner; the disapproving looks at her customers; July had no idea what made the woman angry, though; it is customary to stare at something new, right? She expected it, but the way Kirsten reacted got her thinking again.

"You found what you need?"

"Oh, not really." July jumped, surprised, "I just need to find some new kitchenware that would fit the house; grandma's grandma Em put quite a high standard after she fixed it up."

Kirsten smiled as she remembered her old preschool teacher.

"Mrs. Michelson had always been quite a designer." She says, "On my first day of preschool, she looked like Jacky O with her hair and clothes; fathers would pick up their kids on time so they could talk to the infamous preschool teacher."

"I can sort of imagine that." July laughs, "She's still quite a spitfire."

"How is it with the Michelsons?"

"Oh, well, I've only met Grandma Em and Sebastian; I'm yet to meet the baby sister." she grinned, "I offered Sebastian the guest room for her, but he said she's better off with their grandma."

Kirsten nods, "The Michelsons are one of the good kids, despite their family background. Sebastian levels out the eccentricity of my husband and Harry; he does the same at home. Sometimes I'm worried that he might not know any other way to interact with others other than that."

"Well, he wasn't so welcoming yesterday." July smiled, "If it were another person, they'd probably have run out of the house, fuming mad. He didn't like that I was there, I didn't want to anger him, but I needed a place to stay in, and I've paid for it as well, so we sort of just made a deal."

"There's a lot of bed and breakfasts in town, you know."

"It's different." July insists, "Have you seen the house? It's breathtaking; I fell in love just seeing the front porch."

"I remember the house."

"I like how it has an old vibe that looked worn down when it wasn't. It feels like memories are engraved in the walls; I like that."

Kirsten smiled as she watched the young woman check on another set of cutlery. She had heard of people falling in love with the town, with the weather, and commonly with a person, but she had never heard of someone being stubborn because she fell in love with a house.

"His father built that house," she says. Kirsten had no idea why she said that, but she felt the girl had to know more about the house than its facade; it wasn't just a home they shared or where they started a family. It was their roots and the only thing Sebastian had of his parents...

"He must have been a brilliant man."

"He was... is..." Kirsten waved a hand, "His wife drove him out of their house and never to be seen or heard from again."

"Oh..."

"Yeah."

"Well, they'll be able to move back in now; that's what's important," July excitedly says as she reaches for a colorful set of knives, the same one Kirsten had in their kitchen at home. "I think I like this."

"So do I." Kirsten smiled, unknown to the English girl what she was approving on.

July's phone suddenly blares off, giving Kirsten an apologetic smile before pulling out her phone from her back pocket.

"Sorry, got to take this." She says, "Literally."

Kirsten gave her a confused look watching the young woman check her bag and take out a pillbox. With the accuracy of a practiced move, she popped two pills in her mouth and took a drink from the water tumbler she was carrying around.

Relieved that she finished that day's medication, she packed her pillbox and water back into her bag before turning to Kirsten.

"You ok?" Kirsten asks.

"Yeah, just, you know... scheduled medication."

Kirsten gave her a look before taking a step near her.

"July, listen, I know we just met, but," she reached for July's hand, "you can tell me if there's anything you need help with."

July returned her smile and just watched the stranger give her a motherly look, one which she had never had the experience of receiving before. Maybe it was the moment or the melancholy feel that her eyes radiated toward July, the reason why she squeezed her hand back. Whatever it was, July had found no reason to doubt the woman before her.

Stranger or not, she was the first person who extended a hand to her, and she plans on taking it.

"How about that late lunch?"