June.

I shouldn't be here.

But it kind of became a ritual, every three weeks or so I come here to wash my car, even though I have a carwash closer to my house I still drive an hour to this place. I dread this day but still can't avoid it, I hate the part of me that wants it. But I wanted to know him.

Why couldn't I ignore it? It's not like my life has been lacking anything, my mother loved me enough for two, and I had a good father figure. so why am I standing here waiting to see the sperm donor that couldn't give two fucks about me?

He knows I exist, he knows he has a son out there but yet he has never tried reaching out, or even asked if I'm still alive. I bet he doesn't even know how old I am now. God, I feel so stupid, craving the validation of a man who doesn't care that I exist. I really shouldn't be here, no one knows, not even my mom and she would probably freak out if she knew.

And what's even more pathetic is that I did the digging to find him. I don't know what I expected, but when I first saw him the words I had prepared died in my mouth. I couldn't utter a single sentence because it felt like I was looking at an older version of myself and I hated it. My mother never really spoke of him, just once when she told me I reminded her of him, but I didn't know it was physically.

He looked lonely, sad but still putting a charming smile, easy jokes rolling off his tongue and I knew it then. I will never let myself become like him.

It was my car's turn and as if knew he turned around to look for me. His eyes light up and the charming smile took place. "Son, it's been a long time since we last saw you." I almost scoff every time he calls me Son. If only he knew how bittersweet it sounds to me. I plastered a polite smile, "yeah, I've been quite busy."

"Got yourself a girlfriend?" he asked, his brown eyes amused as if he said something funny. I nodded, "actually, yes I did." he looked surprised then laughed and shook his head. "Of course, you did. Look at you, a real charmer." I couldn't help but clench my jaw at the comment. I'm not usually like this when I come here, we had some nice conversations and for a moment I found myself wondering, 'why did he leave? Why wasn't I enough?'

"Just like you sir," I replied with a hint of sarcasm that he didn't get. He only shook his head, "I've lost my game, I'm not like I used to be."

"Were you a ladies' man?" my eyebrow raised in question. Maybe he cheated on her. I feel like a miserable person trying to find excuses for him, but I can't help but want an answer. and why did he never comeback and ask for me. Was I that disposable? "Not really, I was one lady's man until I fucked it up." He avoided my gaze for a moment before looking back, "if you care about her, make sure to show her, Son. Some leave and never come back."

And suddenly I felt a knot tying around my throat, it was hard to swallow but I managed to speak. "Mind if I asked what you did?"

He was on the other side of my car washing the windows, but he gave me a look, before he was hiding again and I could only hear his voice. "I wasn't there for her, I left her alone when she needed me and I regret it every single day of my life. I could tell you that I blame it on my youth, that I was young and dumb but that would be a coward's excuse."

"And you are not a coward?" because I feel like you are. Because I was the one to look for you, and you are right it wasn't the youth. It's just who you are as a person, if he knew how much he messed up why didn't he try harder? Why didn't he beg for forgiveness? Why didn't he look for his damn son?

He looked up, for an old man he was still well shaped. But then again I guess he wasn't that old, just forty-one years old. "I was."

"And you are not anymore?" I may be taking this a bit too far.

"I try to be better," he calls this better? What did he do with his life? Why is he not introducing himself as my father and begging me to forgive him for all the lost years? Do I not deserve his "trying to be better"? I hate that he makes me this vulnerable and insecure.

I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be wasting my time on him. Every time I look at him and he doesn't recognize me I get angrier, and I can't be angry. I just can not, I will never let myself be like him. I promised my mom.

I stay quiet for the time left while he kept eying me from time to time, asking questions that I replied coldly to. He could see the change in my demeanor so he didn't push for more, but when I was leaving he called my name and I turned around to look at him, "see you next time, son."

Son.

I don't think I can look at him again, and not see the man that abandoned me and hurt my mother. So this was the last time I see him, the last time I hurt myself. "Goodbye, Harry."

I was driving home when I got a call from a call from Mavis, which is weird because she doesn't like calls unless she is high, that's another story. But I'm not complaining I was going to call her to ask if I could see her. When I picked up she hit me with one of her weird questions, "June did you know that an octopus has three hearts?"

"Euh, yes?"

"Why am I the only one who didn't know that? That's weird though, does it mean he has three lives? If one stops beating he starts using the other?" she stops waiting for a response from me, but I don't know. "I only know he has three hearts from a Disney movie, I don't know how it works."

"What movie?"

"I forgot which one,"

"June," she calls and I hum in response, "are you okay? You sound sad." am I sad? I don't want to admit it, it means that he affected me and it doesn't seem right. I went there every time with the hope that he might look at me and recognize who I was, that I was his actual son. I wanted an apology, a reason, so I could have closure and put these stupid feelings to sleep. "Yes, I'm fine. Can I see you?"

"Come over, I'm home alone." she didn't press the matter, and I drove to her house with her still on speakers, we didn't speak she just kept doing her thing while humming softly like she always does, and that made me feel so much better.

"I'm outside your house,"

I waited on her porch with my hands tugged in my pockets while observing their yard, and trying to get my mind off the asshole before I saw her. I don't want my mood to ruin our time together. When she opens the door, I drag my eyes down do to her and frown, "do you open the door to everyone looking like this?"

She tilts her to the side, like a bird. "Looking like what?" I step inside while she retails back, I dip my head and kiss her cheek. "Pretty, gorgeous, and so fucking sexy." A smile tugged on her lips before saying, "I guess it's just for a few special guests,"

Noticing there are different pairs of shoes by the door, most of them Mavis's, I took mine off. I don't want to get her into trouble nor go against their house's rules. "I hope I'm the only guest from now on,"

Mavis turned around giving a perfect look of her perfect ass in those spandex shorts, "do you want something to eat? I baked cupcakes," I tear my eyes away and follow her into the kitchen. "You bake?"

"You sound surprised," she threw me a look behind her her shoulders and went to the counter and brought a box putting it on the table in front of where I was standing, "not surprised, just didn't expect it." she opened the box and the cupcakes looked straight out of a commercial ad. "Wow, they look good."

"I know, they taste even better." her eyes twinkle in joy and I have found yet another façade of Mavis that I adore. "Cocky?" she shrugs and takes one out and hands it to me, "taste it."

"I didn't wash my hands," Mavis rolled her eyes and took a step closer, she piled off the cupcake and brought it to my mouth, "take a bite or do you want me to do that for you too?"

"So much attitude," I mumble with a smile before I took a bite and I kid you not I almost moaned because that thing is delicious. "You like my attitude now?" she was smirking and I only managed to say "more," as I took another bite and another until I finished it all. "Why did you hide this secret from me?" I asked her and she was filling a cup of juice and handed it to me. "I didn't hide anything. I haven't baked in a long time, and today I was in a good mood so I was like why not."

"What got you in a good mood?"

"I was thinking about you," that's a good way of making me choke on my drink. She teases me with a smile and gives me a tissue. "And what were you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just how I really like you, and you make me very happy." and that's a good way to kill a man. I can't even remember what I was sad about. "I need to wash my hands."

"You want another cupcake?"

"No, I need to touch you."

I love it when I get her speeches like this. When I take her off guard her lips part slightly, she doesn't blush but she does a thing with her fingers when she is flustered. "Down the hallway, on your left."

I'm back two minutes later and before she could say another word, I'm holding her face and kissing her. Her lips melt against mine and I savor her taste, sweet salty caramel. "You ate a caramel cupcake?" I whisper against her mouth. She nods and I grin, "you really do love caramel," she nods again and retorts, "just as much you love chocolate." she got me there.

"I want to see your room."

"That's a big step you're willing to take,"

"I'm still willing to,"

"Don't judge me."

"You judged me,"

She narrows her eyes before pulling at my hand and dragging me upstairs. "Remember, I'm mentally ill." I chuckle and kiss her head, it's cute that she is nervous about me judging her.

I've learned to not judge this girl long ago. She went through so much, and most of it wasn't he rfault but she still takes the blame for most of it. She met bad people in her life, people who destroyed her trust and abandoned her when she needed them. She just needed someone to fight for her, she is difficult but she can be as sweet as candy. She has anger issues that only come from badly managing her feelings, and feelings she has a lot of those. She cares a lot, it's sad that she has to restrict herself to acting as if she doesn't give a fuck when she actually does.

I won't give up on her, that's a promise I made to myself and her.

"It's not really organized, I didn't know you would be passing by," she mutters as she opens her door. And the only way to describe this room is Mavis. It's just so her. It's full of her. It's full of colors but yet has some dark corners, it's neat but then again has some messy corners. But I just love it. It feels like I'm surrounded of Mavis. She has a big bookshelf taking the majority of the left wall, next to it was a white desk situated just under the window, it was full of papers and textbooks and her computer. While the bed was in the middle of the room, the wall that faces it holds a vanity with a big mirror with lights, full of makeup products. On the right were two doors, probably one for the bathroom and her closet.

"I love it,"

"Stop lying, it's so messy right now." she was facing away from me as I pull her into my chest and nestle my head on top of hers, "I'm not lying, I love it because it's so you." she turns to look at me and narrow her eyes, "I will believe when you tell me what's upsetting you,"

"I'm not upset," well I wasn't anymore. She is in a good mood, I don't want to bother her with my stupid problems, and they shouldn't even be considered an issue. I'm just too needy.

She arches an eyebrow, "do you think I'm stupid?"

I kiss down her neck, "I think you're really smart," she puts her hands on my chest and pulls her head away. "Stop trying to distract me, and answer my question."

I sigh, running my hands down her waist. "Nothing is upsetting me, Mavis."

She suddenly grabs my shirt and kisses me, her lips moved fast, urgent and angry and I don't how she could shove me on her bed but she did, and she was on top of me, holding herself up with her hands on my chest. "Now, let me rephrase it and don't you dare lie to me again. Who upset you, June?"