I've been updating to so much! It's all good though because soon I start work and won't be able to as often so I'm really trying to hit the ground running.

Please vote and comment y'all, it would mean the world to me!

-Hayley

I sat on my bed, trying to ignore my impending doom waiting for me at the surf shack with Jesse. I really didn't want to deal with him today and even more than that, I really hoped I didn't see Adam today. The other night with him was a disaster, he dug too deep for my liking and I was mortified to have been touching his sister's guitar. I felt horrible and felt even worse that I couldn't give him what he was asking for.

With a sigh I glanced over to the corner of my room where my closet was. I could see the case peaking out from behind my closet door. I haven't touched it in two years, except to pick it back up form knocking it over on accident.

I chewed my lip as I stared at the gift Dad gave me when I was 12. I swallowed, remembering the message he had engraved into it before my 16th birthday. I clenched my jaw and looked away.

For the past four days, I have been staring at it. It's presence in my room making me uncomfortable, like its calling me out on my own fear. I've carefully avoided it every day that I've gotten up for work.

I shoved my duvet cover off of my legs and threw my legs over the edge of my bed. My feet hit my cold floor and I carefully stepped into my closet, finding a clean pair of shorts, slipping on a pair of flip flops and digging a surf shack shirt out of my drawers. As I pulled it over my head and headed out of my closet I stopped.

I didn't look at it. I couldn't look at it.

Maybe I should.

I took a deep breath before letting my eyes fall on the black guitar case, standing against the wall. I rest my hand on the old leather and let my hand graze down the leather stitching. I reached for the brass buckles. I squat down down next to it, resting the case on its side. I unlatched the buckles and lifted the case open. The familiar smell of oil wafted up to me, immediately making the memories of my Dad, Jared and I playing flood in.

I touched my long lost guitar, letting the smooth texture welcome me. I pulled my hand back and I stared at it. It looked as though I had never stopped playing it. It had scuff marks around the edges, places where I had written on it in sharpie, and my favorite part of my guitar: the message from my Dad engraved on it. It was a simple I love you with his signature, but it meant the world to me. It was his handwriting.

I ran my fingers across the rough, delicate grooves it left in the wood. I felt a smile play on my lips.

I jumped at the sudden sound of knocking on my door.

"Hey Alice?" I heard Jared call from the other side. "Are you awake?"

I quickly shut the case and set it back against the wall behind my closet door and went to open my bedroom door. There stood Jared, all 6'3" of him. He got a haircut, his hair short again and he finally shaved. Golden boy Dessen was back.

"Hey," I said finally, still surprised at the guy staring back at me. Is this my brother? The same one I just saw not 24 hours ago with a weird blonde beard and a bad smoking habit?

He narrowed his eyes and leaned in, peering around me to look at my closet. "Were you playing?"

I shook my head. "No," I said too quickly.

He leaned back, his eyes intent on searching mine to figure out what I wasn't telling him.

"I heard you snap your case shut Al," he pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, no one can mistake that vintage case you begged everyone for."

I scowled. He gave me so much crap for wanting that particular case. He thought it was so ugly and a waste of money. Whatever, I still got it for Christmas years ago.

"I just wanted to look at it," I finally admitted.

Jared watched me, making me uncomfortable underneath his knowing brotherly gaze. We may not have seen each other in two years, but that particular ability between us apparently didn't leave. Dangit. Sure, he finally decided to grace us with his presence, but it would have been nice if he had left his uncanny ability to see through literally everyone, behind.

I moved aside as he suddenly pushed off the wall and came into my room. He headed straight for the guitar case. He picked it up and swung it onto the bed, clicking the buckles open and lifting the case open. He took in a deep breath and let it out as he stared at my guitar.

He looked back at me, one hand holding the case open. I shifted, uncomfortable.

"Jared--"

"When is the last time you played?" He interrupted.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and matched his hard gaze. After a few moments of silence he raised his eyebrows and held a hand out, waiting.

I sighed and looked away. "Two years ago," I mumbled, unable to look up at him. I heard his sharp intake of breath.

He carefully brought the guitar out of its case as he sat down on the bed. He began tuning it like he always used to with his own.

"Jared--"

"You know," he interrupted once again. "This was what got me through rehab."

My eyes snapped up to look at him. I studied his face as he picked at the strings and twisted over and over and over again until it sounded perfect.

"Everything I had done, everything I had become," Jared murmured as he picked at my strings, forming beautiful melodies. "I poured it into this."

He stopped playing and rest his arm on the guitar when he looked back at me.

"This is what I should have done," his face fell and he glanced away from me for a few seconds. "I should have poured my pain, my anger...into this. I shouldn't have left you and Mom, I shouldn't have tried to drink the memories away or smoke the pain into oblivion."

We stared at each other before he sighed. "You should play Al, you're too good," he said as he stood and placed it back in its case. "I think you'd be surprised how good it feels, like he's in the room with you."

He latched the case again and set it against the bed.

"That is," he started as he turned to face me, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets. "Unless that's what you're so afraid of."

Puzzled, I tilted my head to the side. "What?" I asked softly. Is he saying I don't want to remember my own father?

"I don't think you want to face it," he responded.

I narrowed my eyes. "I did face it. I faced it the day we lowered him into his grave."

He clenched his jaw. "Whatever you want to call it Alice. Feel it? Experience it? Live it?" he pulled his hands out of his pockets and he crossed his arms as he leaned back on the edge of my unmade bed.

"He's gone. Do I like that? No, but I know Dad wouldn't want this for us. He wouldn't want this for you. You are throwing everything he ever taught you, everything he raised you to believe in? You're throwing that in his face."

I stared at him not knowing how to respond. How dare he accuse me of something like that. He's the one who left, he's the one who tried to bury the pain. How could he tell me something like that.

I stared down at my feet, hurt by his comments. I heard him push off the bed and shuffle over to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

"Promise me you'll play again," he said softly. "If not for yourself, for him." With that, he stepped around me and walked out. I felt tears threatening to spill over. I can't believe he would say such a thing. I have done everything right. I mourned. I helped my Mom. I wrote the thank you notes to everyone who sent food and flowers and God knows what else we received. I said all the right things anytime someone came up to me. I didn't party, I didn't date, I didn't do anything to cause Mom any more stress than she was already undergoing.

What did Jared do? Everything wrong.

I huffed out of frustration before grabbing my purse and heading out the door.

I ripped the door to the surf shack open and bound inside, throwing my purse behind the counter and heading to the back. I could feel Jesse's curious eyes on my back as I moved angrily through the store.

I can't believe Jared would say something like that. I mean what did he do? He drank, he partied while we mourned.

I quickly sat at the computer, gathering the tide information for Jesse. After writing it down and sending him an email for both versions, I stood, the chair shooting backwards from my sudden movement. I stalked back to the front counter.

I did nothing wrong. So I didn't want to play on the guitar that Dad himself gave me. So what? What's the big deal? Why is everyone telling me I'm hiding from something? What the hell am I hiding from?!

Jesse was watching me, his eyes slightly narrowed. I slapped the paper down in front of him and collapsed into the seat next to him, not the rolling one unfortunately.

Jesse, after a few moments of awkward silence, cleared his throat. I kept my stern gaze on the contents underneath the counter.

"Uhh..." Jesse murmured. I could feel him staring at me. "Is everything okay? Or did those pool floaties do something to piss you off?"

I responded with a sigh and I crossed my arms, kicking my legs up on to the counter.

"Glad to see Yeti didn't present herself today," Jesse said slowly, making an attempt at a joke. I shot him a dirty look and went back to staring.

"Alright," Jesse swiveled his chair around to fully face me and he rest his elbows on his knees, bringing him down to my level. "What's going on? You look like you're going to go kill a little girl's puppy."

I gave him a bored look, not wanting to deal with his shenanigans today. "Nothing."

We stared at each other before I broke away and stared at the counter. I felt him watching me for a bit longer before he decided to leave me be and swiveled away to get back to whatever it was he was doing on his computer.

"I mean, is Jared always such an ass?" I could see him out of the corner of my eye mid typing and he slowly brought his arms back to his sides. He swiveled back around to face me and let out a breath.

"Mmm...no actually he's quite nice," Jesse responded.

I turned and shot him a disbelieving look.

Jesse pursed his lips, his wavy hair hair flying everywhere today. He tucked a few pieces behind his ear and put an elbow up on the counter, staring down at me.

"Dessen family drama," he began, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm not sure how I feel about being in the middle of that."

"He told me today that I basically threw everything that Dad ever taught us back in his face," I grumbled. I shook my head. "I mean who says that?" I turned to face him.

"J, I did all of those things right, I went to the funeral which he didn't, I helped Mom which he didn't, I didn't do anything to stress her out, I did everything right, all of it!"

I looked away. "Jared did nothing, he got himself into rehab and Mom had to bail him out, even after he deserted us two years ago. Then he swoops in like Mr. Golden Boy himself, well that's shit." I was shaking my head, staring at the pool floaties before realizing I just outed Jared's rehab.

"Don't tell him I told you about rehab," I grumbled.

"I already knew," Jesse dismissed it, making me snap up to look at him.

Jesse crossed his arms as he watched me, the smug look now replaced with genuine concern. Huh. That's a first.

"Yeah," he began softly. "You did do everything right."

I let out a deep breath, thankful someone finally recognized that.

"But," I tensed. "I do think you spent so much time trying to appease everyone else around you, that it took away from your own grief."

I glanced up at him. "Why does everyone keep saying that?" I looked away, defeated.

I heard Jesse scoot his chair closer to mine and he sighed. "Well Baby Dess, it doesn't take a doctor to see you're not yourself anymore." He leaned back in his chair and twisted his chair to the right and left several times. "I mean yeah, Jared totally screwed up, monumentally, but that was his way of getting through it I guess. Now look at him right? He's back, he's still your brother. Angrier, but hopefully that goes away soon." He chuckled.

I fumbled with my hands in my lap. "I still don't understand what everyone means by it." I glanced up to see Jesse watching me, a sad smile on his face.

"You just seem like you're afraid to go back to living your life," he finally said.

"It's not the same," I mumbled in response.

Jesse scoffed. "Well of course it's not! You're different, your family is different, hell this town is different without Steve, but that doesn't mean you have to stop living. It's okay to smile and actually be happy. It's okay to laugh and not have his face pop up in your head as a reminder that you're not supposed to be happy without him, trust me I went through this in high school."

I looked up at him. That's right, I nearly forgot about his own Dad's accident. His Dad didn't pass away, but he is now paralyzed from the waist down.

"I felt so guilty about my Dad. I mean that's like the worst thing, yeah he's living, but he can't do anything anymore. I felt horrible that I got to walk away and still surf, still workout and travel...." he shook his head and looked away. Him and his Dad got in a car accident and it's exactly what he said. Jesse walked away with a few bruises and his Dad...well not so much.

"I still do, that doesn't go away," he said, looking at me again. "You know what he told me while he was laying in bed a year after the accident?"

I waited.

"He said, son don't take the gift away from the giver," he said softly. "He told me it was a miracle from God that I even survived that crash, there was a reason I did and he said he'd kill me himself if kept feeling bad for him." He smiled down at the floor. "He said it made him feel like less of a man."

I smiled, that sounded like his Dad. He was such a cool man. He never once said a negative thing about himself, he was as happy as the rest of us, maybe even more so.

"I miss him," I finally said, my eyes on Jesse's wild flyaway standing up on his head.

Jesse looked up and grinned. "You should stop by sometime and see him, he would love to see you."

My mind immediately flashed back to Adam's words about him liking me. I watched Jesse smile at me and began to wonder if he maybe did. No, surely not. He's basically a more annoying version of my brother. And more perverted, but yeah.

"Yeah, I will," I finally respond. "I'm sorry for being all debby downer today."

Jesse shrugged, stood up, and ruffled the top of my hair. I shot him a glare and began fixing my hair.

"Don't worry, I'm used to it," he grinned and stepped out from behind the counter to go meet with the customer that just walked in. My jaw dropped.

"Asshole," I muttered as I scoot up to the counter.

Just when you think there is a glimmer of something normal in Jesse, bam! He's back. I shook my head as I watched him flirt with yet another girl. I rolled my eyes and slid over to the computer he was using. He had programs open to design fliers with.

I scoot closer to see what he was designing and gasped. Kids camp? Umm...no I did not sign up to teach little bratty kids how to surf.

I groaned. It was a two week camp. Two weeks of snot nosed kids crying about sunburns and the bad taste of salt water. I didn't even think they still did this camp. They used to have it when I was in high school, a major money maker for the shop. Every summer parents would spend outrageous amounts of money on expensive surf boards their kids would probably never use again. They'd drop them off and leave the employees to babysit. There were usually a couple of parents staying around which made it even more annoying because they yell at you if they think you've taken their precious child too far out in the ocean.

Jared used to help out with this and it was the most hilarious thing I have ever seen. Watching Jared and Jesse attempt to control 15 little kids, oh man. I'm definitely getting this on camera this time.