"You laugh, but your eyes look sad," he said suddenly, not looking at me. "You ever going to tell me what's going on?" I took a deep breath, kept painting. "What did you want to be when you were a kid, Dad?" "Oh, well. Let's see." He blew out a breath. "I guess I wanted to be a race car driver." I had heard about his stint as a race car driver when he was young. "You would've been a great race car driver." He blushed. "Thanks, baby girl." "You didn't pursue it because she got pregnant with me," I said quietly. "Right?" Now I really felt sad. "I wanted you more than I wanted to drive fast cars," he said simply. He stopped painting for a moment and looked at me. "Whatever choices I made in life, good or bad, they were mine and mine alone. And if I didn't choose whatever it is, it's because I didn't want it bad enough. And I chose you and your mom." "But she left you anyway." He shrugged. "She left you, too. And Dyl. That's her choice. You see? She wanted that man bad enough to leave us. And she went for it. The one thing that made me really angry at the time was because she hurt you and Dylan." "And you. Her loss." He nodded. "That's right." "Are you sorry you stayed? I mean you could've been anything you wanted if it weren't for us dragging you down. I heard from Charity that you were going to race cars. You had your sponsors, you've been training. And then my mother happened." He shook his head. "Haven't you been listening to me, Kara?" He studied my face for a moment. "Tell me what's really bothering you." I took a deep breath, let it out. Took another one. "I'm confused. I want something really bad, but I'm not sure if it's the right one for me. Actually, I keep telling myself it's wrong, and maybe it is, but how come even when my heart feels so tired, it's still looking for it? The truth is maybe I just want to make it right when it's really wrong." I let out a humorless laugh. "I don't make sense, do I?" He placed his roller paint on the plastic sheet on the floor, held out his hand so I could give mine to him. He placed that beside the other one. "Let's have a seat on the bleachers," he said, gesturing to the other side of the gymnasium. "I want to tell you something." "All right." We sat beside each other, and he was quiet for a moment. I could feel that he was trying to gather his thoughts, wrapping them in a neat bow before presenting them to me. My dad had always been careful with his words. "Kara," he started. "You have to fight for the things you want in this life. Fight for them with everything you've got because there will be a lot of people who will try to stop you. Your worst enemy is yourself. "It's not a bad thing to want a good life," he continued. "For your family, for you. It's not a bad thing to want to reach for your dreams and doing everything you can to achieve them. But do them with a good heart and a clear conscience." He sighed long and deep, letting it out in a steady stream of air. "You know the bad things in life you've experienced? The most despicable thing you can do is do the same bad things to other people that were done to you by others. Because you already know how it felt like, you know the suffering more than anyone, and yet you choose to do it to others. Life can beat you up real bad, sweetheart, but don't let your heart harden to the point where you've lost it. To me, that's disgraceful and heartbreaking." I wondered if he was talking about my ma. I knew that broke his heart when she left. "But the good news is that you can always change for the better, can't you? Learn to forgive so you can move on to the greater things that are waiting, that are meant for you to grab with both your hands. Once you've grabbed them, hold on to them as hard as you can. No matter how hard or confusing. If your mind and your heart's at war, make a choice. Pick that one thing that you want bad enough. The one that you'll regret most if you didn't." "I will," I told him, my voice rough. "I know it. I've forgiven your ma a long time ago. How can I stay mad when she gave you and Dylan to me? The one thing I don't want you to be is sad. Whatever it is, I want you to be happy. The last person who will stop you from doing what you want is me. Go for it. Go for whatever it is. Dylan and I'll survive. I know you're worried about the shop. What will happen will happen. Are you worried about taking this other job? You know Charity likes to help us out. She'll fill in when you're away. And if she can't, you know us boys can manage. Don't worry too much. Be a kid, be a grown-up, be a woman, but most of all, figure out who you are and just be. Just be you. Whatever it is that you want that's what I want you to be." I was so exhausted by the time my dad and I got home. Dylan had cooked potatoes, chicken, and rice, but I was barely awake. I skipped dinner and showered, brushed my teeth, and went straight to bed. Before I closed my eyes, I couldn't resist grabbing my phone. I checked my messages. I had ten messages. From Tala and Thomas. But none from Cameron. I just felt numb and so worn out. I didn't pick him up the next morning. The lack of text from him told me a lot. And at the same time told me nothing. When I passed by the lecture halls at school, he wasn't there. When work phoned that night, I took it without hesitation. I had work at The Yard the next day, but the shift at the nursing home was only for four hours tonight and I could come home after that and nap for five hours, then attend my morning classes before driving for my shift at The Yard. It would work out. It always did. The next day came and I convinced myself to feel excited, to see that the day was sunnier and that everything would be okay. It was my official first day at The Yard. I went to my morning classes, hoping that I'd see Tala this time, but she texted and said she still couldn't make it on campus today. I wanted to phone her and find out what was going on, but she said she would be out all day and would let me know soon what was going on. I told myself not to look for Cameron, but I did anyway. Like Thomas said, accept that the feelings I had for him were real and it would take time, but I'd get over him eventually. I had to believe that I would. My phone vibrated. Thomas: Break a leg on your first day! I texted him a quick thanks and drove to work. I'd been texting with him a lot lately. He'd been a good friend and I was thankful, especially right now. The Yard was noticeably less busy when I pulled up to the office. Employees had a designated parking space at the back of the building which I was grateful for. I imagined myself getting out of my car just as an eighteen-wheeler came barrelling through and making me a splatter on the dirt. Or food for the birds. Yummy. Deb was less busy on her desk this time. She introduced me to everyone in the office and showed me where everything was. When we entered the storage room where Cameron took me to get my hard hat, I felt sad all of a sudden. I hadn't seen him or heard from him since that scene at the parking lot. Sooner or later I knew I'd see him at work. Or maybe not. Maybe he'd pull another disappearing act. He should join the circus. Then maybe he could disappear forever in one of those magic hats. You miss him. Was there any point denying it? It wasn't going to work out anyway. I needed more than what he could give me, and I didn't want to force him to give more than what he was ready to give because he might resent me eventually. And I didn't want to stay with him when he couldn't trust me because I might resent him eventually. My heart ached thinking about him. I was tired thinking about him. "You did horrible," Deb said with a straight face, patting my back. "Make sure you come back this weekend, you hear? I won't accept anyone else to take my place." I laughed. "Yes, ma'am." It was almost the end of my first day. It had been fantastic. I really liked Deb. She was a sharp lady, with a dry humor that I appreciated. She had to leave fifteen minutes early today to see her doctor. Her husband was already waiting for her outside.