Grace's POV
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"If you catch a guy staring at you, does that mean he likes you?" Alice asked me as we both walked across the school hallway, towards my locker in particular.

Unlocking it, I spared Alice a glance. "I don't know. Maybe?"

There was a tiny furrow in between her brows--so much unlike the constant grin that occupied her lips--as she stuffed her hands in her yellow hoodie pockets. I'd barely spent two weeks with her and I was already aware of how much she loved colours--vibrant ones especially.

"There's this guy who stares at me a lot." She continued as I took out my Biology textbook.

"That's creepy," I whispered under my breath.

"Maybe. But since he's cute, him staring at me is totally fine."

She was gushing, I realised. "Why don't you ask him?" I suggested.

"That why does he stare at me? God, Grace, give me some proper advice. I'd sound even creepier than his actions."

I closed my locker and started to head for class. Alice followed me like an eager puppy. "Anyway, aside from that...what exactly happened that night?"

I gave her a sideways glance.

"Saturday night." She added.

I shrugged, because what else was I supposed to say?

"You disappeared, Grace. I searched for you everywhere. The least you could've done for my sorry drunk ass was pick up my calls."

I grimaced. "Sorry. I forgot--I was, well, tired. So I left. I know I should've told you before leaving."

Alice sighed. "It's all right." She gave me a soft pat on my back. "Just don't ditch me like that again."

As if I'd known.

Biology went on normally at first, like most of my classes were going. Unlike that Chemistry class, I didn't sleep in between the lecture, which was honest to god relieving since I didn't need any more embarrassing moments like such.

Everyone was busy scribbling notes in the journals while I rested my elbows on my desk, breathing out a heavy sigh, and trying to concentrate on the words coming out of Mrs Jones' mouth.

"...yes, and a pair report sounds just about right for this topic. Choose any two drugs from the list and form a report on all the subtopics that we've covered today." She addressed the class. "So, you have to team up in pairs for that."

Obviously. Which truly sucked. Because I didn't want to pair up with anyone in this classroom. I knew many, thanks to our small town, but I was clearly no fan of the way they all passed me those odd, curious looks. Ever since I returned, all I wished sometimes was to just become invisible.

In the meantime, Mrs Jones carried on announcing the pairs. "Marie and Frank. And Marie, please do make sure Frank participates too. Diane and Anna..."

For the next few seconds, it was just an atmosphere full of calling out names and murmurs of people. Until all were done, already scooting their desks together, and I was the only one left.

Perhaps I really was becoming invisible. Only if you will it, Mum used to say.

I contemplated whether I should raise my hand until Mrs Jones spoke up, "Oh, Grace is left." She looked at me, then around the class. "There isn't anyone left to pair you up with."

Oh, sweet hell, I thought. I parted my lips to let her know that was more than fine with me, when she cut me off again.

"Wait, Lucius isn't here today." She raised her brows. "You both can pair up for this."

And all the relief I was just getting used to vanished into thin air.

"That is fine with you, Grace?" Mrs Jones asked me with a small smile.

Of course, it wasn't fine with me. How was it supposed to be fine with me?

The class was still filled with murmurs. Thankfully, nobody paid much attention to me when I spoke up, "Can't I do this individually? I'd...I'd really prefer that."

"Oh." She said, clicking her pen. "I don't know. Lucius really needs to get up his grades and this assignment is a great way to do just that."

I bit the inside of my cheek. Couldn't she see the desperation on my face? Luca hated me. He'd hate to be paired up with me. The least I could do was let him be and not...continuously keep interfering in his life like I had the right to--

Jesus, I thought. Fuck.

"I think you can help him." She added.

What would he have said to that if he was here right now? Nothing good, I suppose. But then again, why wasn't he at school today? Was it because of yesterday? Was he trying to stay out of my way?

"It's all right." I gave her a small smile. "I'll do it."

•••••

When I got back home, I instantly busied myself with one thing or another. Stuff that didn't include homework since I didn't get any today. I didn't feel like opening the Biology textbook either, even if we had to submit that assignment by tomorrow.

I'll do it somehow, I told myself. Even if I'll have to do it alone.

I ended up cleaning the house as much as I could. I cleaned up the dust-filled corners, washed the few dirty dishes in the kitchen, cleaned up my room, and rearranged the very few books on the shelves.

And somehow--I really don't know how--I found myself up in the attic. The attic door didn't budge at first. But after a hard shove, it creaked open and I stepped inside the dark, compact room.

The entire room was enveloped in pitch darkness except for the small glow coming from the skylight above. I remembered how much I'd hated coming up here when I was younger. This place used to give both Jack and me the creeps.

It didn't now. Because now, every part of this house felt the same to me. Small, empty, lonely. The attic wasn't an exception.

I went ahead and sat down against one wall. The room smelled like dust and, well, how old places smell like. I looked around at the old stacked boxes of stuff. Opening up the nearest one, I recognized the numerous files packed inside.

Papa's work files. He used to pack them up here, keeping them away from Jack and me when we were kids.

I opened up a random blue file and papers spilt out of it on my lap. Collecting them all together, I noticed the dark printing on the pages. All of it included business stuff and Dad's notes.

I closed the box and moved on to the other ones. One box had Jack's old toys. Mum had packed them up when we moved to Manhattan. Seeing all of it right now produced this small, dull ache in my chest.

The things here reminded me so badly of my family. So many memories that I momentarily wished I could forget. But I couldn't. I didn't want to forget my own family. Even if they weren't here anymore. Even if I'd lost them.

I sighed and leaned against the wall, fingertips caressing the boxes. It felt like they were here. My parents. Jack too. The photographs, the files, the old toys, everything reminded me of them. So fucking badly.

I was about to close the box I was currently rummaging into when I saw a small piece of cardboard paper with a leather string tied around it.

Pulling it out, I untied the string and unfolded the cardboard. Surprisingly, it opened up to be a large, chalky paper. I spread it out on my lap and almost immediately, I could recognize Papa's handwriting. Yellow-coloured sticky notes were stuck on the edges, scribbled with his writing.

It vaguely seemed familiar. Dad always had one paper or another with him, jotting down a series of notes and words of his research at any given moment. Different squid species. Ancient crustacean fossils. Rare green mutations.

I remembered it all. I remembered how much it used to fascinate me sometimes. Papa loved science. He loved playing with science. I remembered the vibrant look in his eyes whenever he used to speak about it.

It almost brought a smile to my face--that memory. I adored the pictures he used to show me from his journeys. Colourful fishes, corals and seaweeds. I even remembered asking him to bring back a real mermaid for me once. So young and naive back then.

Of course, I'll bring you a mermaid, Gracie, he'd said.

I closed my eyes, wishing I could hear that voice just one more time. Papa was rarely ever home with us, always busy with his business trips. But when he did use to come back, those moments were the ones I cherished the most. When our whole family was together.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn't surprised to feel them welling up. It wasn't surprising to me that whenever I thought about my family, I wanted to cry. It was still too new. Still too painful.

I inhaled deeply and looked back at the sheet spread out in front of me.

Something, however, caught my eye at the near bottom of the chalky white sheet. I placed my finger on one of the yellow sticky notes and read,

Weird dreams. Need to stop.

A small frown formed on my forehead. Those words were kind of unusual than the ones written above. Even the handwriting felt rushed. I trailed my finger below it, searching for something more unusual. There were research papers from his trip to Australia. Snapshots and snippets and articles of information.

And then I saw a small piece of torn paper, taped at the edge.

Man in black. Who is he?

Man in black?

I read it again. What had Papa been writing about? My eyes racked over the other snippets, but I found nothing more. Nothing as absurd as the man in black.

Man in black. Black roses.

My eyes widened. My heart raced a little more.

I untaped the torn paper and held it between my fingers, looking over at the words again and again. I flipped it around, expecting to see nothing on the back. But to my surprise, there was an address printed on it. A shop address.

Except that it wasn't a shop. It was a house address behind an alley on Bridgeview Street, here in Hayward.

I ran my hands over my face, sighing.

Man in black.  

Things just seemed even more confusing now.