"Ivy, are we ever going to talk about what happened?"

I finish pulling my hair into a ponytail, turning from the bathroom mirror to face Elliott. "Sure." I take my phone off the counter and leave the bathroom. "Can you wake up Jonas? His tryouts are in two hours. Let him know there are Cheerios in the cabinet. I'll be back soon."

Elliott sighs. "Yeah."

"Thanks!" I smile and spin around to give him a small kiss before heading downstairs.

My mom moved out of the guest house three nights ago, the day after "the reveal." That's what I'm calling it.

So far, I've been keeping myself put together. I decided it's better to just not think about any of it. Elliott really hasn't pushed me too much on it, though I can tell he's bothered every time I have a bit too much pep in my step, since the pep is really not pep it's confusion, depression, and betrayal all in one.

I haven't told Elliott what happened yet, which is all part of the ignoring the situation thing I have going on. If I were to tell him, I would have to relive everything, all those horrible things I learned three nights ago. To tell him would be to risk keeping my sanity for the time being.

For now, I'm the peppy nanny the Kennedy family has been dreaming of.

I take the kids with me to the grocery store to pick up whatever they need, or wanted. Mostly the wanted stuff. They end up filling two carts to the top, mainly with just candy and potato chips.

"Don't worry, Ivy. I only picked healthy options," Rose says and points to the reduced fat potato chips she picked out.

"Good job," I say and pat her back.

I watch as Crystal and Rosie unload the cart onto the conveyer belt in a organized system they've perfected over the years. Ethan struggles to lift up the carton of milk, so I take it from him. When I go to place it on the conveyer belt, Crystal takes it from me and says that I'll mess up the order.

After paying for the groceries, we leave the store and head for the parking lot. I pack the groceries into the trunk while the kids climb into the van. Closing the trunk, I glance over to my right and see Yogi pushing a row of carts back into the store. I panic and run into the car, praying he didn't see me.

"Is everyone buckled?" I ask, receiving three thumbs up. "Perfect!"

Just as I put the car in reverse, there's a sudden knock on the window. I jump up, not expecting it. Putting the car in park, I look at a laughing Yogi with a bored face. He motions for me to roll down my window, so I do.

"Hey! You weren't trying to avoid me, were you?"

"No, of course not," I lie. "I didn't see you. How are you, Landon?"

"I'm great as always. A little high right now though."

I nod, glancing back at the kids who are busy fighting over what show they'll watch when we get back. "Well, good luck with that."

"Tell Elliott to come to the cliff tonight. We're having a little initiation party for some newbies."

"I'll let him know," I say. "You should get back to work so you're not caught not doing your job and on drugs."

"You always know how to keep a man in his place," Yogi says with his classic smirk. "Hardy says that's why we don't see Elliott anymore. I guess it's a good thing. You're keeping him safe."

"Oh, I'm not influencing Elliott on that at all. I told him I don't care about his cliff diving. He can do whatever he wants."

Yogi nods. "Sure, sure. It's just..that boy has a serious passion for diving, one that he can't stay away from unless there's someone in his way."

"I'm not in his way," I say firmly, almost defensively.

"Things started to change after you came around. He started to change."

I bite my tongue and look down at the steering wheel. "You should really get back to work, Yogi."

He lifts his hands up innocently, as if he hadn't just accused me of keeping Elliott from doing what he loves. "I'm going. See you around, babe."

I nod my head, rolling up the window and backing out of the parking space. My conversations with Yogi always leave a bad feeling in my gut. There's something off about him, more than the other guys at the cliff.

"Ivy, can we stop to play with puppies?" Crystal asks.

"We will another time, okay? I have to take Jonas to his tryouts soon," I say.

"Promise?"

I nod. "Promise. I love puppies just as much as the next girl."

When we pull into the driveway, Jonas is in the front yard juggling the soccer ball. He waves and kicks his ball to the side to help me unload the groceries while the kids run inside to turn on the tv.

"How are you feeling?" I ask. "It's a big day."

"Yeah, I'm a little nervous," he says, picking up a gallon of milk. "I've been off my game for months."

"You'll do just fine," I assure. "You've been practicing for weeks. You're at the park more than you're eating Cheerios these days!"

He frowns as he places the milk on the ledge. "Yeah, about that...I haven't been going to the park to practice."

I raise my eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I've been secretly meeting Brianna behind the middle school's bleachers instead of going to the park."

"Jonas!" I gasp. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Well," he sighs, "I just want you to know that if I don't make the team, it was all for love."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, chivalrous Jonas, you're still grounded for lying to me." I put the milk into the fridge. "I don't like Brianna's negative influence on you. You should dump her."

"Ivy, don't be so jealous," he says. "You'll find a guy who is willing to risk losing what he loves most for you one day. It's just too late for us, my love."

I shake my head, holding back a laugh. "You're so weird, my love," I say in a mocking voice. "Go get dressed. We'll leave in about ten minutes."

Elliott walks into the kitchen, his hair wet from a shower. "Hey, baby." He stops walking towards me when he sees Jonas, his eyes widening. "Brother," he says quickly. "Hey, baby brother. Because I was talking to you. Not Ivy. Why would I be talking to Ivy? She's not my brother. I was just looking at her, but I was definitely talking to you, my baby brother."

Jonas wears a look of confusion and mutters, "and I'm the weird one," before walking out of the kitchen and heading upstairs.

I give Elliott a look. "Smooth."

He shrugs and lifts himself onto the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. "So, I talked to Flynn today."

"That's good," I comment, continuing to busy myself with unloading the groceries.

"He said Nora's been acting strange recently. She's been really distant since like- oh, I don't know- three nights ago?"

I bite my lip, facing away from Elliott and rearranging the contents in the fridge. "Oh. She's probably just busy."

"Yeah, that's probably it," he says, leaning over to grab an apple from the fruit bowl.

I sigh and step forward to take the apple out of his hands just before he puts it in his mouth. "That's a plastic, Li." I throw it back in the bowl.

Elliott grins childishly. "I know."

"Sure."

"No, I knew. See the apple looks real, right? But it's just so fake."

I nod. "That's the point of it being in an artificial fruit display."

He hops off the ledge, taking my hand in his and pulling me to stand in front of him. "So when did you decide your world was an artificial fruit display and you could just be a plastic apricot?"

"Why an apricot?" I ask, pretending to be oblivious to the metaphorical jab he just made at me.

"It's a flattering fruit!" he says argumentatively.

"I don't know," I admit. "I think a dragon fruit would be more flattering."

He smiles. "Then you can be a dragon fruit when you're not being a plastic-ass-hoe."

I open my mouth, surprised and almost offended at the harsh name calling. "Excuse you?"

"Dude, did you just call Ivy a plastic-ass-hoe?" Jonas asks, walking into the kitchen in his cleats.

"No cleats in the kitchen!" I scream and push him lightly. "Let's go."

"She deserved it!" Elliott yells after us as we walk into the garage.

Jonas raises his eyebrows as I slam the garage door shut. "What's that about?"

"Just Elliott being Elliott," I mutter. "But I'm totally a dragon fruit, right?"

"I don't know about that. Honestly, you're more of an apricot to me," Jonas says thoughtfully, as if he has thought about what fruit I am many times before.

I throw my hands up and slam that back down on the wheel in disappointment. The tryouts are about a half an hour away, but we're leaving with twenty minutes to spare since Jonas has absolutely no direction skills and will get us lost.

Jonas has on his Madonna playlist. He considers it his pump-up-jam-mixtape. Even in this smallest thing, I admire Jonas for being different, despite the bullies like Darren who knocked him down. I'm proud of him, as I was the day he punched dickface in the face.

But with his uniqueness, I'm reminded of Jett. Jett. My half-brother Jett. I have a brother. And it's Jett, the completely unique and lovable boy...who lied to me for two months. It has been difficult for me to wrap this around my brain. How could they lie to me so easily? Why did they keep it from me? When did they think it would be a good time? It's never a good time to learn your father passed away and that you have two siblings.

All my life I wanted siblings. I lived eighteen years alone, only accompanied by my distant mother and my "acquaintances" at school. The bond of family is something unique, something unlike any other relationship a person will have. And after all those years of putting my entire life into my mother, I find out I do have siblings. I have people to spend the rest of my life growing up with.

There's still time, isn't there? Of course I want a relationship with Nora and Jett. I need a relationship with them. It's just too difficult right now. It's all too fresh and too painful. I don't believe I am truly mad at Nora or Jett; I'm just overwhelmed, hurt, confused. Time will pass, and I'll have a family.

"Ivy, turn here!" Jonas screams, pulling me away from my thoughts.

"What?"

He groans loudly and hits the window. "You missed the turn, you apricot!"

I shoot him a menacing glare. "Shut up, munchkin poop."

"Too far," he says coldly, shaking his head slowly. "Too far."

Eventually, we get back on track and to the open fields where the tryouts are being held. Jonas jumps out of the van and runs to get checked-in. Like the soccer mom I am slowly turning into, I take a foldable chair out from the trunk and carry it over to where a few of the other kids' parents are standing.

"Sup," I say as I plant my chair next to one of the dads on the sideline of the field.

He gives me a simple head nod before looking back at his phone, where he scrolls through Facebook, or maybe an important work document. I couldn't really tell.

I clap my hands when Jonas and a few other boys walk out onto the field. "Yay, Jonas!"

He squints his eyes and marches quickly over to the sidelines where I'm sitting. "Ivy, parents don't watch the tryouts," Jonas whisper-screams. "We're just doing drills and stuff right now. God, you're so embarrassing!"

I just smile. "Good luck!"

He huffs and takes two steps backwards, his eyes locked on mine before spinning around and running to where the other boys were stretching.

A coach wearing a decked out eagle jump suit, similar to Will Ferrell's outfit in Kicking and Screaming, stands on the field and yells at the boys. They stand up and begin dribbling the ball up and down the field. They do different moves, all fancy and quick. Although somewhat entertaining to watch some kids trip over the ball, it gets boring really fast.

"So, how long does this thing take?" I ask, standing up from the chair and tapping on the shoulder of a mom next to me.

She looks back at me. "Usually about two hours or so. Maybe three." She smiles. "Which one is your kid?"

"Oh," I pause and lift a finger, "the freckled-face kid, Jonas Kennedy."

She nods. "Oh! I know Jonas. You must be his nanny while his mom is away on her business trip. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Mrs. Lang."

"Ivy," I introduce. "And your kid is..?"

"Little Walter, right over there in the neon green shirt. You see?"

I squint, making out the familiar face of the boy in the neon green shirt. You got to be kidding me. I'm having a conversation with dickface's mom! "Oh, little Walter. I know him."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, he's a real pleasure, your kid," I say with gritted teeth. "Great parenting. Five star."

She raises her eyebrows, skeptical of my clearly fake compliments. "Thank you?"

"Sure thing. But maybe you should've spent a little more time working on his feet skills than teaching him that it's okay to treat other boys like crap just because they're different!

"I'm not sure what you're talking about..."

I smile. "Yeah."

"Well, it-it was nice meeting you, Ivy."

"Oh, you too!" I say with a big smile before plopping down on my foldable chair. I could be a caddy soccer mom for a living. I'm a natural.

The boys are now shooting at the goal, one after another. Some make it and high-five their buddies, while others miss and swear under their breaths. Jonas makes mosts of his shots, but misses a fair amount. I can tell he's stressed as he chomps on his bottom lip nervously.

"You got it, Jo!" I say, clapping fiercely.

He glances over at me and shakes his head. The other boys look at me too, and I just glance down at my shoes awkwardly.

Once again, the shooting gets just as boring as the drills do. I scroll around Twitter and Instagram on my phone for a bit. The boys eventually get a water break. Jonas takes a few minutes to scold me for being so loud and annoying.

I just responded with, "you can walk home."

He stormed off shortly after.

After the break, the boys are divided up into teams of five. Shirts and skins. Jonas gets skins, which is sad for the pale and awkward boy. I hear one kid call him marshmallow. Try Cream Puff, I think to myself.

"I was worried we'd be late. The printer took forever!"

I turn around to see the Kennedy's walking over with large signs that cheer on Jonas, including a large cutout head. They each have shirts with a letter on them, one for each letter of Jonas' name. Beth wears a little exclamation point on her shirt.

I stand up and walk over to them, a huge smile on my face. "And he was embarrassed about me cheering for him." I take Bethany from Elliott to bounce her in my arms. "This is so cute, guys."

"It was all my idea," Addison says proudly.

"Actually, I came up with the shirt idea," Elliott argues. "Without me, you'd be nothing."

"We'd be Onas," Addison jokes and points to the J on Elliott's t-shirt.

The whistle blows to start the game, and we stand at the edge of the sidelines to cheer on Jonas. A few parents give us weird looks, Mrs. Lang included. Others find it adorable. Some wish they had thought about it.

Jonas looks over at us during the game. Though he tries to play it cool and look annoyed, I caught the original smile that came on his faces when he first saw.

"What does JANSO mean?" Jonas asks as he runs next to us for a throw-in.

Elliott leans over to look at the order they're all standing in. "Guys, it goes me, Addison, Crystal, Rose, Ethan, Bethany. How hard is it to remember that? It's the order you all came into the family!"

The kids quickly rearrange, horror in their eyes from Elliott's wrath.

I laugh, squeezing Elliott's arm gently. He looks at me with a smile, almost an apologetic smile, as if to say he didn't mean to call me a plastic-ass-hoe earlier.

We cheer loudly when Jonas makes a good pass, or steals the ball, or makes a solid run down the field. He eventually scores, which sends us into a frenzy that catches the attention of all the players.

"Chill out, okay?" the referee says as he walks by. "You're freaking everybody out."

"Sorry, sir," I apologize, holding back my laughter. "I'll control them."

Jonas' team sits out as the next goes on. Elliott pulls me away from the kids, bringing Bethany with as an excuse for us to go to the playground. He places Bethany in the baby swing and kisses the top of her head before rocking the swing gently towards me, where I gently push back.

"So."

"So," I repeat.

"I think it's time we talk about what happened, Red, between you and your mom," he says. "Don't tell me nothing happened. Something happened. I tried to be all relaxed about the whole thing and I didn't pry, but I can't just ignore it any longer."

"Something did happen," I admit. "And I just don't feel like talking about it yet, okay?"

He nods. "Okay. Fine."

"Good."

"I just feel like we should talk about it-"

"Elliott!" I exclaim in almost a laugh.

He smiles softly. "I'm sorry. It's hard for me to pretend like everything is okay when I know you're not. Whatever happened really hurt you. And I want to be there for you since that's what I'm supposed to do as your boyfriend."

"You're not supposed to do anything, Elliott. I'm happy the way we are."

"But you're not happy. You've been pretending to be for three days and it's annoying."

"I'm not happy about what happened between my mom and me. It was just a lot to take in. But my relationship with you still makes me happy. That's all you need to worry about and that's all I want to worry about right now."

He sighs and pushes Bethany towards me. "So you think it's just best to ignore everything?"

"Yeah," I say. "For now."

"Okay. Then I guess I'll ignore it too." He looks down for a moment before snapping his head back up at me. "Want to come to the cliff tonight?"

I smile. "I should probably stay home and do my job."

"Lame. Let Addison babysit."

"Addison has plans with Mikey tonight," I say. "They're going to see a play with his parents."

"Then call Jake Acker and let him babysit. Apparently he's a nanny," Elliott says with a grin.

I laugh, "right."

"Tonight's a big night. They're initiating like five new kids. You're really missing out."

"I think I'll survive," I say.

He nods. "Well, maybe I'll stay home with you then."

I raise my eyebrows, thinking back on what Yogi said today. "Why would you do that? You just said how tonight is a big night."

"Yeah, but I'd rather spend time with you. We have less than a month before you go to college now."

"You have to go," I say. "I really want you to go. You used to go every night when I first started working. It'll be fun, much more fun than staying home with me and watching movies with the kids."

"You sound like an old housewife who is scared she got in the way of her husband's true dreams," Elliott points out jokingly.

I nod, not sure if he realizes that's exactly how I feel right now too. "Well, why don't you go as much anymore?"

He shrugs. "I've been busy."

"With what?"

He scrunches his eyebrows together, dropping his hands and missing Bethany as she swings by. "Ivy, what do want me to say? That it's your fault I'm not diving as much?"

"I don't know." I frown. "It's true though, isn't it?"

He breathes out of nose, his mouth clamped shut. "Fine, you're the reason I don't dive as much."

I nod. "I knew