Elliot pushed herself up at the sound of footsteps moving down the hallway. The room around her was still dark and she knew only one person would be awake. She threw back her covers and stepped out of bed. The carpet was soft and cool beneath her bare feet. When she opened her door she could hear the faint sounds of someone in the kitchen.

Outside the street lights were still burning, saying it was sometime in the very early morning. She walked down the stairs and passed the living room, where Milo lay snoring on the couch. Light spilled into the hallway and Tristan's shadow could be seen moving in front of it. She stepped inside and he glanced back at the sound of her approach.

"What in the world are you doing up?" he asked.

The coffee maker was gurgling and on the stove was a fry pan. Ingredients for breakfast were laid out on the counters. Elliot crossed her arms.

"I would ask you the same question, but it's pretty obvious," she said. "You've turned into a hamster."

He pointed a spatula at her. "I would ask if that makes sense, but it's you and I believe everything you say makes sense. To you."

"Hamsters are nocturnal."

"Ah. And my deduction was correct," he said. He placed his hands on the counter, staring at her. "Now, what are you doing up?" He waved his hand. "Besides, you know, wasting my time and saying my looks are the same as a burrito shaped animal covered in hair."

Elliot slid onto a stool and rested her elbows on the cold granite.

"I couldn't really sleep and I heard you. So I decided to come down and make similarities between you and a useless pet. Are you going to answer my question?"

"Fine. The answer is platypus."

"I mean to why you are down here," she said, "not what animal you believe would make the best president."

"Well, you should have been more clear," he said. He went back to making breakfast. "I'm here because I have an early meeting today and I decided it was pointless to go to sleep. So, I'm staying up all night and after the meeting I'll come back and sleep."

"Won't you be tired for the meeting?"

"Not as tired if I had slept for two hours and tried to get up."

Elliot nodded. She reached out and grabbed a piece of bread. While Tristan worked, they said nothing, Elliot slowly tearing the bread into pieces and eating it. As Tristan poured the eggs on to the hot pan, he glanced up at her.

"You should say what you want to now, because once this is done I plan on leaving you."

Elliot looked at him, her brow creased with troubled thoughts.

"Do you think I was stupid to ask him?"

"Were you stupid to put your heart out there?" he said. "Yes, all idiots who choose to chase love are stupid. That's why we call them idiots."

His mocking tone did nothing to ease the frown. She looked down at the counter and he saw the hunch in her posture. He sighed, out of exasperation or sympathy she wasn't sure.

"El, this family, well at least our half, looks at love like it is a dangerous beast that should be avoided at all costs. We're this way for the sole reason we know what true pain and abandonment feels like. Does that mean we should hide away from the rest of the world and never put ourselves out there?" He shrugged. "I don't know. Part of me wants to, even though I have met someone who is amazing. You never know what is going to happen, but if you didn't put yourself out there, then you would never have anything worth writing about."

Elliot gave him a flat look.

"Except for my broken family."

"Well, if you're taking that point of view, then yes," he said, "you were stupid to ask Beck. You didn't need new writing material."

Elliot laughed, feeling the ache in her chest lessen. She smiled at Tristan and he sent it back.

"You'll be fine. You just think you're dying because you're a writer and overly dramatic."

"Hey! Let me remind you who left the country because of a break up."

"I had a job."

"In the Bahamas."

"It was a modern piece."

"You're a modern piece."

Tristan shook his head and made a face.

"That makes no sense."

"You make no sense."

He pointed to the hallway. "Leave. Your insults are weak and poorly put, I can't be around you when you aren't witty. It's just too sad of a state."

Elliot smiled and slipped off the stool. "Night Tristan. Thanks."

He grunted and went back to his work.

**************

A small, poke-a-dot suitcase lay open on Elliot's bed. She stood staring at it, her arms crossed. Around her the room looked as if a bomb had gone off in her closet. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Only bits of the floor still remained visible. The suitcase held only a single pair of shorts. The day filled her room with bright light. The air conditioner rattled in the window, as if struggling to keep the heat out. From the open doorway Elliot could hear Cece moving about, her frustrated mutterings making it down the hallway.

"Son of a sea turtle!" Cece yelled. A loud thunk quickly followed after her exclamation.

Despite her own predicament, Elliot grinned. She continued to stare at her suitcase as if hoping it would pack itself.

"That's it!" Cece's cry came a few minutes later.

Before her declaration had time to bury itself in the multitude of Elliot's clothes, Cece appeared in the doorway.

"I hate packing!" she said.

She paused at the sight of the battle that had ended with so many casualties on Elliot's floor. She made a face and pursed her lips.

"Okay, so I'm faring better than you," she said. "That makes me feel only slightly better."

"I'm glad my failure at loading my suitcase with the clothes I have literally been wearing for the past two months has made you feel better about yourself."

Cece crossed her arms.

"Where does your dilemma stem from?" she asked.

Elliot shrugged. "You know the general abhorrence of having to go see our family and act like we like them or even mildly stand them."

"Oh, that."

They were silent for a moment, both of them surveying the mess that had been completely avoidable. Cece nodded to the bed.

"Do you want to dramatically fall onto it first or shall I?"

"We could each take a side of the suitcase," Elliot said.

"Alright."

Cece walked over and both girls turned and fell back onto the bed. The mattress squeaked and the suitcase shifted. They stared up at the ceiling, their eyes slightly glazed, as if they didn't see it at all.

"Why are we even going?" Elliot asked. "We don't like them."

"No, but we love them."

"That's the worst answer ever. Life would be so much easier if we didn't care."

Cece waved her hands about. "That's what I've been saying, life would be so much easier if we were all emotionless robots."

"What about Milo?"

"What about Milo?"

"Would you still be with him if you were emotionless robots?"

"Of course we would. That's a stupid question."

"Sorry."

They fell silent again, Elliot not wanting to talk about the trip that hung over her, but needing to. Beyond the walls of the house the world rushed on. They could make out the sound of cars and the faint sounds of voices. Birds chirped outside windows, spreading gossip on their neighbors.

"We have to go, right?" Elliot said, turning to look at Cece. The suitcase blocked everything but her head. Her gaze remained on the ceiling, her dark hair splayed around her. "I mean we can't just skip it. Can we?"

"No, because if we miss it then there is never any talking to them again."

"But do we want to? We don't talk to them now. What difference would it make?"

Cece went very quiet, her expression falling as her thoughts took her somewhere else.

"Part of me hopes that maybe things could be different," she said, her voice low. "We always thought our kids would grow up together. If we don't go then that would never be a possibility. They would never forgive us."

Elliot looked away, the thought filling her mind.

"Do you ever think it was our fault?" she asked. "I mean did we make this happen? Between us and them?"

"I honestly don't know," Cece said. "The divorce skewed everything. I'm not sure if we wouldn't have grown apart even if mom and dad hadn't split."

Elliot rubbed her face.

"Gosh! Why is family so freaking complicated?!"

Cece shrugged, summing up all her different answers to the question. Elliot rested her hands on her stomach and studied the small indents in the ceiling. Minutes drifted by as each sister sat in their own contemplations of life's problems and the ones that revolved around the week to come. Cece shifted her attention to Elliot.

"Do you want help?" she asked.

"On what? Packing or dealing with this next week?"

"I was going to say packing," she rolled her eyes, "but if you really are that helpless I guess I can help with the other as well. You're going to be alright."

"Yeah. I'll be fine," Elliot said. "Until next year when the zombie apocalypse happens and half the world gets eaten."

Cece turned away and nodded. "Right, one problem at a time."

Sitting up, Cece hit her legs, looking around the room as if it were a puzzle.

"Alright, go get coffee and we'll see what we can do with this mess."

Elliot propped herself up on her elbows.

"Is that your subtle way of saying 'leave me so I can throw all your stuff into your suitcase while you are gone?'"

"Yup, pretty much," Cece said, moving off the bed and looking around. "Tell Milo I say hi and if he's flirting with some girl, slap him."

Elliot rose and saluted her. "Got it."

She rummaged through her closet and pulled out a pair of battered shoes. She slipped them on and left Cece to deal with the hurricane of her clothes.

The sun was aggressive in the way it glared at the city, as if the world had managed to piss it off again, another summer in a row. The air smelled of hot pavement. Those people Elliot saw on the sidewalk wore as little as possible, numb to any one's opinion, the heat having melted that part of their brain.

With a relieved sigh, she stepped into the safety of the cafe. She made for the counter, but froze at the sight of Beck talking to Milo. Milo placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a flat stare.

"...I know," he said, "but you are the smartest idiot there ever was."

Beck nodded his face serious and his gaze taking on a glazed look as he drifted away into his thoughts. Elliot took a deep breath and moved forward, holding tight to Milo's advise.

"I got to...go," Beck said, not even aware that he was already backing away from the counter.

Milo nodded. Beck turned around and walked towards Elliot, his gaze down, lost in his thoughts and oblivious to the world. She stepped into his path, forcing her lips to form a smile, though she wasn't sure it was convincing.

"Hey," she said.

Beck started and looked up at her, his expression shifting to surprise, though something else seemed to hold his thoughts

"Must be an interesting conversation if you are thanking Milo for insulting you," she said.

Beck frowned and blinked as if trying to put together what she was talking about. She raised her eyebrows and he nodded, but still seemed to be distracted by something, his gaze distance. Elliot shifted and urged the awkwardness away.

"You want to get coffee?" she asked.

Beck shifted, moving his coffee cup from one hand to the other.

"Uh...Actually, El, there is something I have to do," he said, his tone distracted. "Sorry. Have a safe flight."

He side stepped her and left the cafe, Elliot looking after him, her confusion and hurt plain on her face. For a moment she stood there frozen. Milo coughed and the world around her seemed to start moving again. The voices of the crowded tables came back in a sudden whoosh of sound. She turned towards Milo, who was looking at the door and shaking his head, a hint of amusement caught in his eyes.

She moved to the counter and fell onto it, her head buried in her arms. Milo's lips twitched as if he was trying to keep himself from laughing.

"He really is the smartest idiot I know," he said, some laughter escaping into his voice.

Elliot moaned and shook her head.

"I'm the idiot in this equation," she said.

Milo shrugged, still looking at the entrance. "Well, that's true as well, but I didn't want to be the one to say it." He looked down at the top of her head and patted it. "Cheer up, El. With any luck you with be arrested for murder in California and be put in jail. You'll never have to see him again."

Elliot lifted her head and balanced it on her fist.

"Don't play with my hopes Milo. I'm not sure my damaged heart can take it."

Milo rolled his eyes. "You McKenzies are a band of broken people."

"That's true." Elliot dropped her head to the counter again. "Why did I ask him? Now it will forever be awkward and I'll never live this down."

"Yeah, Cece will have it engraved on your tombstone."

"I give her one responsibility and she uses it against me. Darn her!"

"Look, El, it's not as bad as it all seems," Milo said.

Elliot glared up at him, then gave him a patronizing look.

"I'm sorry," she said, gesturing back towards the door. "Did you just not witness that horrendous scene of pure awkwardness. He barely looked at me. He was completely distracted and couldn't get out of here fast enough."

Milo cracked a smile. "I thought it was all very amusing."

"You and my sister are evil and made for each other."

"Yes, we are." He playfully slapped her arm with the back of his hand. "Now you just need to find someone with thoughts as evil as your own and you'll live forever together planning each other's deaths. Ah, the power of love."

He crossed his arms, giving her a closed lip smile.

"The annoying thing is I thought it was Beck," she said.

Milo uncrossed his arms and pointed to the door. "Well, the fact that he walked away from you and there was so much awkwardness around you I thought you would suffocate, proved you wrong."

"Hey! What happened to the supportive friend role you had a minute ago?"

"You didn't listen so I've taken the sarcastic, condescending role now."

"I would be annoyed but you wear that role better than Cece and I don't feel like punching you."

Milo's expression went thoughtful. "Hmmm. I must be doing it wrong."

Elliot lowered her chin onto her arms. "I can say one thing about that incident."

"Only one, because I have at least twelve and that's off the top of my head."

Elliot shot him a look and he smirked.

"At least now I'm not dreading California as much."

"Really?"

Elliot shook her head and scowled. "No, it's still going to be awkward as butts."

Milo nodded. "That's what I thought."

**********************************************************************

Oh my little croissant!

I'm not an overly emotional person (Yes, I hear some of you laughing) because of this you know what always impresses me? An author's ability to write something that makes you cry. I mean can't-read-because-you're-crying-so-hard type of crying. Also I really hate them because it's like they've ripped out my heart and rung it dry. I have read many a books where this is the case. What about you? What books made you cry?

Mine are (In no specific order):

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (Finished it the other day and seriously sobbed for a solid minute.)

The Hero of Ages by Brandon Sanderson (It's the final book of the Mistborn Series. I've never been so mad at an author for what he did. Gosh still pisses me off just thinking about it. If you're reading this Brandon, I hate you!)

Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls (Can't read the first line now without starting to cry)

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (The ending just hit me so hard)

Betsy and Joe by Maud Hart Lovelace (Cried for like six chapters straight)

Rose In Bloom and Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (The first was a sucker punch cause I was not ready for it.)

On Wattpad A Thousand Paper Cranes by @PRAdams (Only good thing about this was I got to tell him how mad I was at him. I then apologized and he told me he understood. Also you should check it out, it's in my Binge on the best books list. It's so good!)

So there you have it, a list of books you can read when you feel like being completely depressed for the next week! Have fun!

Read, Cry, Throw the book at the wall!