I mentioned it on my Tumblr, but I'll mention it here as well: I will no longer be writing this story for the sake of Steven Universe or Lapidot. Frankly, I've all but lost interest in both due to the direction the show has been going in.

Despite, I will still be continuing (and hopefully finishing) for the sake of myself. I really do love this plot, and the characters I've developed. Lapis and Peridot will more or less be name-holders at this point. I'm still not sure if this is going to get reception anymore due to my sporadic chapter posts or the drastic difference between this story and TTHG, but I hope those who continue to read will enjoy it!

Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following!

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: Child Abuse, Mental Illness

Think About It

My father had nailed it into me since I'd been old enough to walk: when invited into somebody else's home, you take off your shoes. Some memories of my childhood are singed and faded at the edges like Polaroid pictures with bad memories that are thrown in a bonfire, but others I remember in such vivid detail, I could close my eyes and watch them like a movie in the blackness.

Like, I can still remember bursting through the door of my late grandmother's house on Christmas morning about ten years ago. I'd gotten a pair of brand-new light up sneakers courtesy of my parents (who only kept up the whole Santa thing until it became too troublesome to sneak around me for an entire month), and I'd raced into the living room.

My grandmother's house had always been earthy in color, and especially so in the years before she passed. Overwhelming light gave her migraines, and so none of the lamps were ever turned on, and every muted brown and burgundy in her house was made to be even duller.

But when I barreled in there like a hurricane, the soles in my feet illuminated the room in a cosmic glow, and I stood at the center of the universe.

But then there was a jerk to the collar of my puffy blue coat, and I was yanked back until I met eyes like the sharp end of a knife. My dad's lips drew back to reveal a glistening row of teeth. His exact words are lost to me now, but I remember the terror that gripped me harder than he did as he jostled me back and forth, warning me that if I ever did something that disrespectful again, he'd smack me into next year.

My father's hands were far too calloused to offer the illusion of hitting lightly, so even walking into the foreign land of his new, two-story house a decade later, I made sure to wipe my shoes on the doormat thoroughly before discarding them.

"You look nice today," Dad remarked as he led me into the dining room.

I shrugged my thanks, taking a seat on one of the wooden barstools at the counter.

"Any boys yet?" Dad asked.

It had been made evident since my childhood that I was a pretty thing- mainly because since then, my father had trained me to be wary of boys. But now, I think he felt like he might've been too frightening in his warnings, because he looked almost dejected when I told him I was still yet to be kissing football players under the bleachers during halftime.

Dad grunted uncomfortably, "Right. Any uh, you know- girls?"

I quirked my brow. "What?"

"You know, I don't want to be invasive, but Crystal and I had a talk about being more open-minded or whatever. I was just wondering since you never seem to take interest when I ask you about guys."

"Oh, thanks," I said, punctuating my murmur with an awkward chuckle. "And also: no."

To be honest, I hadn't really put much thought into my sexuality. Who I liked didn't seem like a hard-pressed issue when I was busy spending all my time trying to figure out how I was going to keep my house from getting foreclosed upon.

What I did know was that Leonardo DiCaprio was not as good as the girls my age made him out to be, and if given the chance, I'd totally be Ellen Page's co-star.

But I mean- wasn't that everyone's opinion?

"Do you like the new paint?" Dad coughed, breaking me from my thoughts.

"It's alright," I shifted uncomfortably.

The dining room, like every other room in the house, was dominated by a pristine white. Sitting on my ass in a sweater straight out of the Goodwill, and a pair of jeans that bore rips not intended for fashion, I couldn't help but feel like some horrible stain of color against the whiteness of the world. My dark skin and hair felt like mud on the walls, and I tucked myself further into my coat to hide myself.

Dad sat down next to me, crossing his legs at the ankles and smiling warmly. A maroon blazer was stretched over his broad shoulders, making him look preppy and neat in a way that he had never been before. My father had always been an endorser of Harley Davidson jackets and flashy combat boots with buckles that used to jostle when he walked, but he must've tossed those parts of himself somewhere Crystal would never find them, as I never saw him wearing them anymore.

My father had always liked to act above himself anyways. He called movies "matinees", and used to yell at me for drinking tap-water when we had "a perfectly good filter on our refrigerator door".

"So how's work?" Dad prompted. I felt kind of bad- he was going to run out of one-sided conversation starters eventually.

"Fine. Carol had me on grill last night."

"Is that not usual?" Dad perked up.

"I'm always on hosting."

"Well, that's a nice surprise then. You'll probably be making more soon. I'm glad- maybe you won't have to work so many hours."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "With tips, I make above minimum wage anyways. Amethyst told me she only makes about a dollar over on grill- and that's after taxes. So I'll probably be making about equal, if not less."

Dad rubbed his big hands together and stared ahead as if we were reading from the 80's sitcom script from a heartwarming episode of Full House.

"I'm sorry, Lapis," he said. "I just don't like you working so long. It's too much for a girl your age."

I offered him a tight smile and clenched my fists. "Yeah, I know."

"You're just a kid, Lapis. You know that, right?" Dad sighed.

I imagine that I must've been quite a spectacle: a teenager wearing her body like a grown-up. Perhaps I still looked like a teenager to some people, but when I stared at myself through the bathroom mirror in those rare moments of peace that only took place after a warm shower, I could look at the deep wrinkles set in the corners of my eyes and know that my body was lying to me.

I thought a few times of modeling for skincare advertisements. I could see them perfectly: "Acts Like a Middle-Aged Woman, Still Looks Eighteen! Dermatologists Hate Her!"

Like a wave washing over me, the quietness of my father's house suddenly became overwhelming. I realized that my dad's house had never been silent in all my four years of visiting.

"Dad, where's Naomi?"

"She's out shopping with Crystal." Dad paused. "I wanted to send them out so we could talk alone for a little."

"About?"

"Do I need a reason? I just wanted to catch up, you know? Have a little one-on-one time."

I knew that was straight bullshit the second it left his mouth. My father hated being alone with me. He'd told me one time when I was fifteen in the heat of an argument that he couldn't stand to look at me because I had the eyes my mother once had before she went catatonic.

Or maybe he could bother to look at them now, because maybe the light in my eyes had disappeared just as hers had.

"What do you want, Dad?" I asked. "Seriously, I mean."

Dad sighed. "I guess I should cut to it, huh? Look, I wanted to talk to you about my offer. It's still on the table, you know."

I felt my body freeze all at once. Dad had been pushing for this for a while now, but he'd only asked me once about a year ago. I steadied my breathing before responding.

"You know I can't do that to Mom," I said lowly, the hair at the base of my neck sticking up.

"Don't think about her," Dad whispered. "Think about you. Anyone can see how tired you are, Lapis. You shouldn't have to do this. You shouldn't have to be your mother's caretaker. You should be out with friends, and studying for college. You should be having fun."

"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked.

"I'm as serious as ever."

"Don't you think it's a little too late to start being a father to me?"

I clenched my jaw and felt the warm blood rush back through my veins.

"Lapis-,"

"No, Dad, you know what? I didn't choose this," I cut him off. "This isn't the life I thought I'd have when I was a kid, but here I am anyways- and I just have to deal with it."

"Lapis…" An idiot with enough common sense to fill his empty head would know to stop there. Unfortunately, I was not privileged enough to be that idiot.

"I'm not done talking," I snarled, my voice crescendo-ing at a dangerously exponential rate, "You think you're doing me some big fucking favor, but you can't just take my life from me and then decide to give it back whenever the hell you want. Dad, I-,"

What happened next registered only several seconds after my ass was already plastered to the floor. I cupped my burning cheek with trembling hands and tried to keep my breathing steady.

"You do not swear at me in my own fucking house, you hear me?"

"You're a great dad, you know that?" I sneered back, scrambling to my feet. "A real fan-freaking-tastic dad."

"You fucking smartass," my father sneered. "Why can't you be nice, huh? You're such a nasty brat. I offer you my house and my family, and you can't even pretend to be grateful? I don't even want you here- this was all Crystal's idea, because she thinks you have it so fucking rough."

It was nice talking to my real father again. It's a little depressing, but I felt closest to my father when we were screaming at each other. That gentle restrained guy who made small talk with me at the kitchen counter was nice, but I'd never seen him before in my life.

"This is your fault!" I burst out.

I got slapped again, but I was prepared for it this time. I stared at my father with all the hatred I could bring myself to feel without crying. "Thanks for having me over, but I've got to go now," I said through grinding teeth.

"Good! Get the hell out!"

I stormed to the front hall, slipped into my shoes without tying them, and willed myself to sprint as fast as I could out the front door.

"Oh, Lapis-,"

Crystal was shoved out of my way as I took in my first breath of clean air.

I stopped to stare at her. I screwed my face up into the meanest snarl I could manage, and jabbed a finger into her chest. "You stay out of my fucking life, okay?" I said, my voice low and dangerous. "I don't need your pity. I am fine."

Crystal put a dainty hand over her lips, her eyes glazing over. As I shouldered past her, I could hear Naomi exclaim, "Mommy, she said a bad word!"

I vaulted over the porch steps and raced down my father's street. I felt heat well up in my chest, but pushed it down, promising to myself that I would be allowed to cry as soon as I was safely out of eyeshot. But even after jogging halfway down the street, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I think it's possible that I taught myself to suppress my tears a little too well, because what initially was a weakness is now nonfunctioning.

Maybe it was a good thing that I didn't break down however, because after only a shy minute of dazed walking, I heard the revving of a car engine behind me, and my Dad came leaning out the window of his shiny gray Chevy Impala.

"Lapis!"

"Leave me alone!" My eyes darted about for a quick escape.

"Come on- you know I didn't mean to yell!"

"Liar!"

Dad suddenly began to laugh. "Lapis, sweetie, you know I was joking. Don't be upset. Come on, I'll take you home."

"Stop it! Get away!"

He laughed again, because I guess when you have nothing to lose, these games just become a thing of entertainment. "Lapis, I just want us to be family again, okay? I know I didn't handle it right, and I shouldn't have raised my voice, but you know I love you, right? You know you're still my little girl."

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at him with furious eyes. "I am your nothing," I snarled, my voice proud and indignant.

I took a deep breath and covered the phantom tears leaving my eyes. "Go home, dad," I murmured.

And he did.

I didn't want to go home after that mess. There wasn't much for me to come back to- my mother would inevitably be sitting on her legs in the living room, and she'd look up at me with eyes that would be hopeful until I would close the door behind me. And then she'd take a long drag of her cigarette and sigh, "How was your father's house?"

And I'd say, "Just fine," even if it wasn't.

And she'd reply, "How'd your father look?"

And I'd go, "I don't know. Good, I guess."

And she'd scoff and grind her lit cigarette into her pink Miami Beach ashtray and say, "You always tell me that."

And I'd bite my tongue and manage a small, "I'm sorry." Because I won't know what else to tell her that wouldn't make us both more miserable than we already are.

And then I'd retreat into my room, lie down, and listen to Buddy Holly on my phone over and over until it came time for me to make dinner.

Understandably, I wanted to put that off for as long as possible. So with no car, and nowhere else to go, I found myself hiding behind a row of bushes blocking the far side of Peridot's driveway.

I stared over at her house for a long moment, wondering if it was warm inside, and if the walls were painted brown and stained.

Shaky fingers I hardly recognized as my own dialed Peridot's number, and pressed my phone to my ears.

"Hello?"

My heart picked up a little, and I ducked further behind the bushes; flattening myself to the ground like a soldier in the trenches.

"Hey," I said back, biting my lip with a cringe when my voice came out a little too meekly.

"Lazuli!"

My eardrums slammed into my brain, and I yanked my phone away to rest a few inches from my face. I checked to make sure my speakerphone setting was turned off.

"How are you?" Peridot asked. "Are you doing well? Isn't the weather just perfect today?"

"Fine, sure, I guess so," I rolled my eyes, trying to catch the smile in my head before it made its way onto my face. It was refreshing to hear a voice that didn't radiate of unhappiness.

I mean I'm well aware that I'm hardly a poster child for optimism, but even I had a limit to the amount of depressing bullshit I could put up with in a single day.

"Sorry, sorry," Peridot amended. "That was probably a lot at once."

"It's fine," I said.

"I know. I just get carried away sometimes and I go on forever. I really can't help it, but I still hate how much I ramble on because sometimes I do it without meaning to and then I can just see the person I'm talking to phasing out of the conversation. Isn't that annoying?"

"Peridot, you're breathing irony- you know that?"

"I said it was unintentional!" Peridot whined.

"Just thought you should know," I shrugged.

There was a moment of silence in which neither of us said a thing, and I found it nice enough to smile about. The soft whisper of Peridot's breathing over the speaker was proof enough that she existed on the other end, and it made me feel just a little less than totally alone.

"So… did you want anything in particular?" Peridot asked, her voice racketing with awkwardness, like an unhinged wheel going over an unpaved road.

"Ah, sorry- zoned off for a second there. No, not really. I was just wondering if you were doing anything today."

"Well, I've got some things in health I could study for, and I might be playing online with some internet friends… Maybe I'll start fixing the bugs in a code some real clod gave me the other week… wait! You wanted to know if I was willing to spend time with you, weren't you?"

I ran a few fingers through my bangs, "A real genius, aren't you?"

"Patronize me again, clod- see what happens. I don't see why it's so hard to just ask overtly. In any case- that sounds fantastic. Do you have a particular time in mind?"

"Anytime," I mumbled.

"How about in ten minutes?" Peridot offered. "I've got to get something on."

"What are you even wearing?"

"Don't you usually have to pay to get that kind of information?" Peridot hummed, a strange coyness to her voice.

"Per- that's not what I meant!"

Peridot cackled on the other end, and told me quickly that she would be out in ten minutes to wait on her porch for me.

I hung up and let my nose fall into the grass. I stared through the wall of leaves before me, wondering if one of the outside windows belonged to her.

I stared at the clock on my phone for a good while, watching the minutes count up restlessly. At some point between 3:02 and 3:05, I dozed off for a bit, and when I woke up at 3:14, I figured the extra three minutes might make me seem a tad less eager.

I almost popped my head up above the bushes when I saw her. She was perched on her porch steps, eyes flickering between the sidewalk and her phone screen.

I ran my fingers through my hair and brushed the dirt from my face before crawling army-style across the yard until I was safely out of view. Standing up, I ducked and sprinted to the sidewalk, patting down my jeans and shoving my hands into the pockets just as I came into view.

I walked up Peridot's driveway with my head down to mask the red that burned like a chemical flame on my face.

"Lazuli! I was worried you weren't going to show," Peridot said, breaking into a huge, toothy grin.

"Well, I'm here," I announced, taking my wordless invitation to sit next to her.

Peridot quirked a brow and stared at me for a moment. "Are you alright?" she asked suddenly, furrowing her brows.

"You asked me that like, fifteen minutes ago, and I told you I was fine."

"Yes," Peridot began, "but fifteen minutes is a lot of time for you to potentially become not-fine, and I feel that, as a good friend, it is my obligatory duty to do whatever I can to ensure you a positive state of well-being."

I snorted. "Yeah, I'm alright," I said, and it surprisingly didn't sound like half the lie it was.

"Okay," Peridot smiled, apparently having her peace. "Do you work tonight?"

"Nope. My employer makes me take off one day each week, and it's usually Sunday."

Peridot nodded very seriously, as if my work schedule were some huge concern to her.

"So what did you want to do?" Peridot asked. "Don't misunderstand me- I absolutely wouldn't mind watching cars with you, but I've got to tell my dad if we're going anywhere before he gets ready for work."

I thought for a moment, running my fingers against my jaw. "Uh, I don't know. Have you seen the Heart yet? We can go to the boardwalk if you want."

"That sounds great!" Peridot chirped. Satisfied with our plans, she jumped to her feet and ran into her house, making sure to shut the door behind her. When she emerged again, she had a camera on straps hanging from her neck.

"You look like a tourist," I cringed, crinkling my nose.

"Shut it, Lazuli! I'm trying to enjoy my first Beach City-related experience that isn't school or the hospital, okay?" Peridot snapped, grabbing my wrists and dragging me to my feet.

"Your parents never took you to the boardwalk? But that's like, the entire reason our town exists," I said, eyes wide.

"I know. It's horrible."

"Absolutely unacceptable," I agreed, nodding solemnly.

It wasn't as if I had a whole lot of pride for my tourist-trap of a town, but damn it- who lives in Beach City without even seeing the beach?

We started off down her street, and by the stop-sign, she was already wheezing and telling me to slow down.

"Hey, where's your car?" Peridot said, sounding a little something like Darth Vader having an asthma attack. "I'm not saying I'm struggling, but-,"

"I walked here," I shrugged, "The weather's nice."

That was only half of a lie. I never drove to my dad's house when I had to visit, because driving there meant driving back, and they told us in driving school that it was dangerous to drive when angry or upset. Still, the weather made things a little more tolerable. There was a slight biting chill, but the warm sun on my skin kissed it better instantly.

"You're strange," Peridot sighed. "Come on, I'm ready to go again."

We crossed a street and made it down a few more houses before Peridot made me slow down again.

"I'm really sorry, Lazuli," Peridot groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know this sucks."

"It's fine," I said. "Do you want to piggyback? I can take us to my house and pick up my car. It's only another block and a half."

Peridot shook her head and laughed airily, "Carrying up the stairs was enough. I'm not skinny enough for you to hold me up all that way."

"If you're sure you can make it," I shrugged.

"I'm sure."

I forced myself to walk at a funeral march, stopping every four or five houses to point out some made-up landmark. Peridot probably knew what I was doing, but I'm sure she enjoyed the second to breathe anyways.

"Is it really that hard to walk on one leg?" I asked, though I only realized in retrospect that my words could have come off as inconsiderate.

"It's not that," Peridot sighed, ignoring any offense in my bluntness, "My disease is muscle-degenerative, so on top of my absent leg, all of my other muscles suffer, too. Walking like this feels like running a marathon. I mean, skipping out on my rehabilitation training probably didn't do me any favors either, but still."

"That sucks," I said.

"Thanks," she said back.

"Just exercise more."

"I should."

When we finally made it to my house, I asked Peridot to come in with me. It wasn't as if I particularly wanted her to see how I lived- but rather that I felt as if it might be better for her to have somewhere warm to sit while I dug around for my wallet and keys.

She struggled up the stairs, but made it inside without too much strain. She relaxed into one of the chairs as if she lived there.

"Take off your shoes," I told her, retreating into my room. "I'll be back in five."

I wish I were a neat person, but tiredness breeds some hell of a mess. I started digging through my clothes, feeling into the pockets of my jeans for my keys.

"Lapis, is that you?"

"Yeah, mom. I'm just stopping in to grab something," I said, cursing myself when I looked at the time and found it to be just four minutes short of her scheduled nap.

"How was your father's?"

"It was alright," I mumbled, feeling my chest tighten. I finally located the jeans I wore two days ago, and found my keys in the back pocket.

"How's Naomi?"

"I don't know- didn't see her."

"She's growing up to look just like your father, you know."

"Yeah, I guess so," I replied back, even though Naomi, with her pale skin and brown eyes, looked drastically more like Crystal than like my father.

I'd held hands with Naomi once before, and I remember marveling at how our laced fingers looked like a barcode. It had made me proud, because my darkness against her peach skin proved that I would always be more of my father's child than she could ever be.

"Mom, are you lying down now?" I called, reemerging into our kitchen to find Peridot with her feet crossed at the ankles, her left behind her right.

"Yes- I'm just going to grab a glass of water first," mom said.

My eyes went wide, and my jaw clenched. "No! I-I mean, no, don't worry about it. I'll get it for you. Just stay there, okay?"

I hadn't brought a friend home since before dad left, so I really had no idea how my mother might react to Peridot's presence. And dealing with a grown woman's mental breakdown was not on the list of things I had planned for the day. I shot Peridot an apologetic look before filling a solo cup of water and rushing back to my mother's room.

Mom was already curled up in her big green comforter, her glasses on her nightstand next to an almost-empty carton of Malibu's. A box fan whirred gently in the corner of her room.

"Here, Mom. I'll be back in a few, okay?"

"Okay. Have fun," she mumbled, hugging me quickly before taking her glass and sending me out.

I retreated into the kitchen. "Now we can go," I whispered. "Sorry for that."

"I don't mind," Peridot said. "Your mom decorates really nicely."

"She does, doesn't she?" I said, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips. I offered Peridot a hand to help her back down the stairs (she refused, of course, but she thanked me anyways).

We took my car the rest of the way to the boardwalk, and Peridot went off on a tangent about the boring things that she found interesting, like school, and college, and her online video games.

It was all very topical information that tended to go in one ear and out the other, but as a devout listener of radio morning shows, I was more than used to topicality, and found that even her erratic voice could slip into a rhythm if it rattled on for long enough.

And after swimming laps in the deep end for as long as I have, sometimes it felt nice to just sit in the shallow side and enjoy the water.

I parked my car in the arcade lot, and got out, opening the door for Peridot.

"I hate getting out of your car," Peridot hissed, kneeling at the step so that her prosthetic didn't hit the ground from the full drop height.

She toppled out and shut the door behind her, fiddling with her camera for a moment before picking it up and aiming the lens at me.

"Hey, don't do that," I snapped, putting my hands up in front of my face.

"Shut up, clod. I'm just testing it out."

"On me?"

"You're the first thing I saw!"

"Sure."

We both laughed a little bit, and I started leading her down the boardwalk. I pointed out the few shops still open at this time of the year: the arcade, the T-shirt printing kiosk, and the Big Donut- home of the blandest pastries on earth.

Finally, we came to the edge of the boardwalk, and took a seat at one of the benches behind a wooden art piece.

"This is the Heart," I said, pointing to the odd stack of driftwood. It didn't look too special from the sides: it wasn't much more than a set of stair-stepping boards curving up to a point, but from a standing view, one could make out the heart shape emerging from the planks like a pop-up book. "Before I was born, there was this huge freak hurricane that hit Beach City and destroyed just about everything on the boardwalk. So while they were starting to make repairs and whatnot, this artist went and collected a bunch of the broken boards from the wreckage and made a monument out of it."

"Wow," Peridot whispered. "That's amazing."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I used to climb all over it when I was a kid. My dad used to take me to the beach to swim, and then after, we'd get ice cream and sit here."

Peridot didn't say anything- and the air was heavier because of it- but she moved her hand from her camera to her sides so that our pinkies touched. I smiled and wrapped my finger around hers.

"What's it like?" Peridot said suddenly. When I only looked at her in confusion, she clarified. "Living with split-up parents, I mean. I-I'm not trying to assume or anything, it just seemed like-,"

"No, it's okay," I assured her. "I won't lie- it sucks."

"How often to you see your dad?"

"Once every two weeks. My dad threw this big fit when I chose mom over him. He threatened to take her to court for custody."

"And?"

"I had to agree to his terms," I concluded. "There's no way she would've won."

Peridot's finger twitched. "That does suck."

"I guess. I'm used to it, though," I shrugged.

"That sucks even more," Peridot sighed.

I didn't reply. There was nothing I could say, really. And God save me if I stared Peridot straight in the eyes and tried to tell her I was happy.

She stared ahead at the Heart, and I stared at her. I focused on how her glasses would slip down over the bump in her nose, and how she would crinkle it to readjust them without her hands.

The ocean behind us sounded like a faraway thunderstorm, rolling in and out with the gentle surf music playing over the Boardwalk PA system. Eventually, the sun retired behind the clouds and the gray skies brought down the temperature.

"Let's go into the Big Donut," I suggested. "It's getting cold. Also, I'm a little hungry."

"I didn't bring any money," Peridot protested.

"It's fine. I can pay for you," I offered. I shut her up before she could protest further, "and no- I don't mind. I promise."

Peridot stayed quiet as we walked inside, and I got us donuts and coffees. There were barstools tucked under an overhanging counter facing the window, so we took our seats there.

Peridot took a few pictures of her food, and the weather outside, and though I was looking away and couldn't be sure, I believe she caught a few of me.

"Thank you, by the way," Peridot said, taking a sip of her coffee and wrinkling her nose. "Not for the coffee, because I don't like cream or sugar, and that's something you should've known about me before you bought it, but thank you for taking me out here."

"We'll switch then," I offered, swapping our cups. "I like black coffee, too. Amethyst drinks the sugary stuff pretty religiously, so I just figured you might be the same."

Peridot gave me a weird look, and I hurriedly added, "I don't hang out with a lot of people, okay?"

"It's not that," she said, and then paused for a moment before continuing, "I was just taken aback, that's all."

"Sorry. Either way, you're welcome."

Peridot stirred her coffee with the straw, which I thought was weird since there was nothing in it to stir. She sipped it tentatively, nodding this time in approval.

"When we came here, I thought we'd be able to see the tourist areas," Peridot said. "Unfortunately, that didn't work out so well." She laughed bitterly and sent a glare towards her leg like a disapproving mother might look at a bothersome child.

Her eyes found the window again, and she stared out for a long time. "Lapis," she said. "I don't intend to be pushy, but would it be much of a task to take me down to the beach? I've never seen the ocean before."

"Sure," I said, trying my best to down the liquid in my cup that proved more sugar than substance.

We finished eating in comfortable silence, and after I threw our stuff away, we headed back outside. The sun still hadn't returned, but it was still warm enough for my light sweater to prove comfortable. I crossed my arms to keep the heat in my chest, and lead her down one of the piers.

Peridot hobbled along at a breakneck pace, eyes bright with eagerness. As soon as we hit the sand, Peridot took off her shoe and sock, and let the skin and bone of her foot sink into the gravel. She curled her toes and hummed, a pleased expression slipping onto her face.

Her trend of unusual silence continued as we walked towards the ocean, an unnamable force pushing us towards the waves as if we were newborn turtles.

Peridot stuck her foot into the water and instantly yanked it back. "It's cold!" she yelped.

"It's November," I pointed out.

Peridot sat down and crossed her arms over her legs. "I know that!" she snapped, tentatively dipping her toes back into the water and smiling as shivers wracked her body.

"You're going to get sick," I muttered.

"What's new?" Peridot bit back.

"Smartass," I laughed. "I'll have to take you down here again soon. We can walk the beach so that your muscles can get stronger. Sound good?"

My heart pounded as I said that, and I wondered if it was trying to tell me that I was making a mistake.

But before I could claim that I was joking, Peridot nodded brightly and said, "Yeah, I'd enjoy that."

Something about my beating heart settled instantly, and I internally scolded it for being so strange. Crossing my legs, I watched the waves kiss Peridot's toes before slipping back into the ocean like a shy lover.

Something about spending with her made me feel good- or at least as close to good as I can ever remember being. I thought for the first time in a long time that I might be spending too much of my time being sad when there were moments like this waiting for me.

An odd urge overtook me, and I reached forward to slip Peridot's camera from her neck. She noticed me, but didn't protest. I turned it on, and toyed with the settings before aiming it back at Peridot and snapping a picture. She caught me, and had been looking at the lens when I shot it, but there was something so warm and genuine in her eyes, it were as if I'd caught it unnoticed.

"Peridot," I murmured.

"Hm?"

"Thank you," I said quietly.

Peridot looked at me quizzically, "I didn't do anything for you."

I just shook my head and thanked her again, telling her that I was just grateful for her company. It wasn't a lie I suppose, but like most of the things I say, it wasn't the full truth either.

She seemed to be satisfied with my answer, at very least. Our hands found one another in the silence, and Peridot talked too fast for me to mention anything about it.

"Dad?"

"Lapis," he replied flatly. Even from over the phone, I could picture his deep-set frown. He coughed a little into the receiver before speaking up again, "I'm sorry for yelling at you. You know Crystal's trying to teach me to get better about that."

"She's doing a stellar job," I deadpanned.

"Don't you speak like that. She's a nice woman. She's real nice."

"I know," I sighed.

It was true- Crystal had been nicer to me than most people, even though she had arguably the least good reason to be. I wish she were meaner sometimes so I could have the catharsis of hating her- but she was young, and pretty, and smart, and though I hated to admit it- it wasn't hard to figure out why my father left mom for her.

She was the kind of person who could see the good in everyone; even people who were angry like my father and troubled like me.

"Anyways, I called to apologize. But I also want to talk about my offer with you like a mature adult."

I felt like stones were being dropped on my chest, and I winced. My mother's snores from the opposite room rumbled through the house.

When I came home from Peridot's, it was already half-past her sleeping hours. I'd cooked dinner enough for the next three days, and I dropped a fresh pack of cigarettes on our dining table. I wished I looked old enough to buy tobacco without being carded, because then I wouldn't have to flirt to buy her smokes every night.

But it was my curse that mom would get up in the morning after I'd left for school, get hungry, and then smoke for an hour.

"Dad, you know I can't leave mom," I said.

"That's the thing, Lapis. Your mother's turning fifty-five this year, so she'll qualify for senior care up at the local center. She would be cared for there, Lapis."

"Dad, I-,"

"You don't have to decide right now. I know it would be a big change, and I can't blame you for not wanting to live with me. I know I'm not the best father. But I just want you to think about it- for you."

I imagined coming home from school and finding dinner already made in the fridge. I imagined taking Saturdays off to run for the Beach City Dolphin track team. And I felt horrible for imagining that, because it was proof that I was weak and selfish.

I ran my fingers through my hair and did what hopeless men are wont to do: I laughed.

"Okay dad," I said, riding the ghost of a humorless chuckle. "I'll think about it."