Kara Having a fight with Cameron felt like a constant toothache. The pain wouldn't ease until the rotten tooth was pulled out. Unfortunately, the dentist's favorite hobby was ghosting. Come to think of it, he could make a career out of ghosting somebody. He should even write a book about it:Ghosting 101. Goddamnit, there's no parking. I blew out a frustrated breath as I inched my car in between two SUVs. I'd rather change a diaper than parallel park, but I had no choice. A victory yell came out of my throat when I succeeded on the fourth try, then it died as I glanced at my phone in the cupholder. No missed calls. No text messages. It was already past seven. The fight last night had dogged me all day. In my morning class, in my shift at The Yard where I knew I wouldn't see him since he'd accompanied Rick to an emergency with a project outside the city (which I knew he didn't have to because he wasn't part of the crew and which I knew he only did it to help Rick and which made me soft), and now as I walked on the street, trying to balance a tray of fried damned chicken my Aunt had asked me to pick up after work. How the hell did every second of our unresolved fight felt excruciatingly long? He was in my mind constantly and it felt like the whole weight of him was in my heart. How could he not even once contact me? Was it really that easy for him to tuck me away, shove me aside like a piece of broken equipment he couldn't be bothered to fix? I was feeling a little salty. I should have known, I thought, kicking a small rock on the sidewalk, wishing it was Cameron's foot, that he would be like this. He wasn't exactly a first-time offender, but neither was I. But I thought we'd... progressed. Stopping me from being friends with Damon just because he was a guy wasn't going to work for me. I had no idea where Bigfoot's crooked opinion came from about friendship between men and women, but I strongly disagree. If he asked me to stop being friends with Damon, then he wasn't the man I thought he was. The defeated look in Cameron's eyes last night came back in my head to haunt me. Tossing and turning in bed thinking about it, feeling torn between wanting to see him so we could fight it out and making it known how angry I was by giving him the silent treatment had sapped all my powers. You were the one who booted him out, remember? Because he was being a jerk. An unreasonable, jealous, territorial jerk. How could he think that about Damon? Couldn't he see there was nothing between us? Was he always going to be this petty about my male friendships? I replayed what happened yesterday in my head, trying to analyze everything that could have made him angry. I went to help Damon paint in the morning, went to work at The Yard after. On my way home, I picked up a couple of auto parts, mopped the bay at the shop, cleaned the office. By the time I got to Tala's house, my back and feet were aching so bad all I wanted was to go to bed. But I really wanted to give something back to Tala and Mrs. B for their kindness, for letting me stay at their house for free, for entrusting me with it. When I saw the progress the men made at the house, I got so excited all I wanted was to finish it as soon as possible so I could show it off to Tala and Mrs. B. With Damon's help I knew we could make it happen. It had been a while since I saw Damon. I knew he wasn't ready to come home yet, but he did because Tala had asked him to help me. Because I was his family. Growing up, I had protected Dylan. And Damon had protected me. He is my brother. We were almost done for the day when Cameron texted and said he was coming over. I felt so happy I was going to see him I could practically walk through walls. I wanted to finish with Damon as fast as we could and help him clean up because he'd been at it since morning. The faster we were done, the faster I could be with Cameron. But it didn't end up that way, did it? I left Cameron and Damon together so they could get to know each other, went to chat with Caleb and eat some of the fries Cameron bought for me before Caleb finished all of them. Caleb was showing off the splinters he had on his hand. When I got back, I could feel the hostility between Cameron and Damon. What the hell did they talk about? When I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, I almost dropped the tray. I balanced it on one hand, fishing for my phone in my pocket. False alarm. Was I so desperate that I was even imagining my phone vibrating? Shit. "Kara! So nice to see you!" Aunt Tabby opened the door before I could press the doorbell. Her ferocious perfume mixed with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes blasted me in the face as she leaned forward to hug me. "Come in, come in. Is that the fried chicken? What about the wine? Didn't you pick up any?" "Aunt Elisa only told me to pick up the fried—" damned "—chicken." "Oh, Kara. Did you forget again?" I didn't bother screaming. There was no point in expending more energy against a brick wall that was my aunt. I knew where this was going. "You know what, that broccoli I ate for lunch must've been laced with something. I even forgot my name." She sighed in frustration. "Well, since you still have your coat and shoes on, can you drive quickly to the liquor store and grab three bottles of wine and a case of beer? Naomi said she'll tend bar tonight. We'll need vodka and St-Germain and...hold on, hon, I'll make a list." Inside I heard raucous, cheerful laughter and spotted my dad having a blast with everyone in the kitchen. So I stayed where I was and curbed my tongue. The Hawthornes gathered once a year for a Christmas dinner ever since I could remember. When Grandma was alive, the event had always been something I looked forward to. But now that both my grandparents passed away, we all drifted apart. The dinner parties, birthday invites, occasional hangouts stopped. Until my dad gathered his three siblings together and suggested to bring back the yearly dinner because that was what my grandma would want. By then everyone had their own thing. To compromise, they agreed on dinner, but it would be before Christmas, not the day of. It wasn't the same. Still my dad loved them very much, and he usually had a good time when he was with family, so for him I'd behave. Aunt Tabby came back and handed me a list. "Here you go." "Got it. Where's the money?" "Oh, it's in my purse." "Right. Wouldn't make sense if it sunk with the Titanic, right?" I waited. When she didn't move and just stared at me with a confused smile on her face, I asked, "Did you want me to get it?" "What's that, hon?" "I can wait." "Why don't you pay, and I'll just give you the money later?" She wouldn't. She also owed my dad twenty thousand dollars and I knew she would never pay it, but in the spirit of Christmas and since I would never see her again until next year, I relented. Scanning her list, I could tell this could easily be two hundred dollars. I calculated in my head what I could give up this month to make up for this unbudgeted expense. I was scoring heavy Jesus points tonight for being extra super duper good. "Right. I'll be back with your booze." "I'll be here." Where else would she be? Maybe in the Titanic.