Clutching the roses in my sweaty hands, I am waiting for Kitten to exit the school. My gaze lingers on the faces of nameless students. The crowd is dense, and I'm afraid of missing the moment she appears, but then, it happens.

Seeing her delicate frame in the throng of people makes my heart squeeze in my chest. I become painfully aware of every little thing about her, especially the sadness on her beautiful face. I caused it, and I am willing to beg if that's what it takes.

"Leah!"

I rush toward her, and she slows down and turns her head to spare me a glance. I'm afraid to see hurt or, worse, hatred directed at me in her eyes. When it doesn't happen, the relief I feel is enormous.

"These are for you," I say and give her the flowers with my shaky hands.

"Thank you," Kitten whispers, bringing the roses to her face and inhaling the scent.

"Baby, I'm sorry," I start saying, but Leah's hand seizes my wrist.

"Not here, Brian. Can you take me home? Not mine; yours."

"Sure, baby. Let's go."

I place my hand on the small of Kitten's back with extra gentleness and lead her to my bike.

A short ride later, we're next to my house. I hold Leah's hand as we make our way in, afraid to let go of her.

"Water," she mumbles, and I get a vase for the flowers. Leah puts the roses in it and goes upstairs to my room after leaving the bouquet on the kitchen table.

I follow her to my bedroom, anxious and uneasy. She seems too calm, and it cannot be good.

Closing the door behind us, I lean against it and study Kitten's face as she sits on my bed, looking at my comforter when I want her to look at me. Her hand comes to rest on her stomach, and I wonder if she ate.

"Kitten," I say in a whisper.

A sob tears through her, and Leah buries her face in her palms, shaking as she cries.

I'm next to her in a heartbeat, drawing my arms around her thin body and holding her tightly to me.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I repeat, feeling her pain and her hurt as if they were mine and hating myself for what I did, for being a fucking immature idiot who doesn't seem to be able to grow up.

"It's okay," Leah says, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. "I shouldn't have insisted on college knowing you don't want to do it."

"It's not okay. The way I talked to you wasn't okay, and I am sorry."

"I need you, Brian. Can you just hold me? Please? I don't want to fight. I need my boyfriend. I need somebody to hold me."

"I hate it when we fight, baby," I say, kissing her forehead. "And of course. Come here."

Unmaking my bed, I lay Kitten down and gather her in my arms. She tugs at my hoodie, and I take it off. Leah rests her head against my chest. I see her touch her stomach again and put my thumb under her chin to make her look at me.

"Have you eaten?" I ask her.

She shakes her head, and I intend to free myself from her arms and get her something to eat, but she stops me.

"I'm not hungry yet, Brian."

"You touched your stomach."

Kitten blushes and sighs. "I have my period, and the cramps are bad. I feel awful."

I return to my previous position by her side and kiss her lips once. "How can I help? Do you usually take pills? Do you want me to, I don't know, get you tampons or something?"

Kitten smiles, caressing my jaw. "I have some pads in my purse, and I took a pill; it just takes a while to kick in."

"Okay. Then, how about some tea with cookies?"

Leah snuggles into me, and I place tiny kisses over her beautiful face, making her smile. The sight of Kitten smiling makes me exhale and hug her tighter, so tightly, I'm afraid to crush her.

"Did you cry because of the cramps or because of the way I fucked up?" I ask, sliding my hand under Kitten's shirt and caressing her warm skin. I am careful not to apply pressure, rubbing her stomach just barely. The boy and I are fucked for life because even something so innocent makes my jeans feel too tight.

"Neither," I hear Leah say.

I cup her cheek in my palm and study her features. "Did anything happen?"

"Get my purse, please," Kitten says.

I grab the purse from the floor and hand it to Leah. She rummages in it for a moment, and when she's done, some pictures are in her hands.

"Look at them, Brian," she says.

I take the photos from her and stare at the dude next to a motorbike. Then, I see the woman next to him, and the realization makes me turn my incredulous eyes on Kitten.

"Yes." She nods, and her voice shakes again. Leah starts crying, and I leave the pictures on the bed and grab her face, giving her a series of tender kisses.

"Don't, baby. No more tears. Where did you get those from?"

"My mom's drawer. I snooped and found those. He's my dad, Brian, I'm sure. I spent all night staring at the photos. Don't you see how similar we look? I have his eyes and his hair."

I grab the photo of the guy again, but this time, I notice something else. The recollection of something I'd seen months back makes me frown.

"Did you talk to your mother?"

"To hear more lies? She lied to me. All those years, she lied to me. She didn't tell me his name. She never answered my questions. I am an adult, and I'm sick of her treating me as if I were a naughty kid. It's my life, Brian, and I deserve to know."

"Of course, baby," I say, cradling my distraught Kitten to my chest. I lie with Leah in my arms, caressing her and giving her affection, but I cannot keep my mind from reeling.

Leah's breathing evens out in a while. She's asleep. I tuck her in and take the photos before leaving my bedroom and going to see Pops. Hopefully, Leah will sleep long enough for me to have time to talk to my dad.

As soon as I put my foot in the garage, I see Bill next to my father.

"Hey," I greet them.

"Brian." Bill smiles. "Look at this. I needed your opinion, glad you're here."

"What's up?"

"I made a list of things we can improve in our town," Bill says with a proud smile. "Take a look."

I take a piece of paper from the man's hands and nod as I skim over the list.

"This is amazing. That park was beautiful when I was a kid; now it's just a ruin. It will be awesome to bring it back."

"And those roads," says Pops. "The one leading to the woods is awful. It's hard to drive after it rains, let alone ride a bike."

"And the playgrounds. Good job." I smile at Bill, who looks almost shy.

"There's more," Bill says. "I was going to ask you and Mackenzie to attend the meeting at my store tomorrow. I want to hear what people think and see what I can offer and then deliver if I win the elections. Young guys like you know stuff we don't. Can you be there?"

"Count on it," I say.

Bill slaps my shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Brian boy. And you, Axel."

"See ya," says Pops.

We watch Bill leave the garage with more energy to his step than usual.

"He's invested in the whole thing," Dad says. "It makes me so happy. God knows this town could use some love and a good manager."

"Bill is spot on. He sees real issues, not some bullshit guys like Martin put on their pamphlets."

"That's right." Pops nods. "How is Jim? That's where you've been, right?"

"Jim is great, Dad. We had a guy-to-guy convo, and I need to have one with you. About this," I say and extend the photos Kitten gave me for Dad to take.

"I didn't realize it at first, but I saw that patch on the jackets of the dudes that visited you when you opened the business. Do you know the guy?"

Pops is studying the picture in which the guy is alone. "Know him? Of course, Son. How could I not know one of my best friends?"

"You're shitting me."

"Language, little fucker. Before I tell ya what you wanna know, where did you get these from? I have some, but not these ones."

"Leah found them. Look at the rest."

Pops does and shakes his head. "No way. Is that...?"

"Grace? Yeah. And Leah thinks the guy is her dad."

Dad sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Now it all makes sense."

"Tell me what you know. Please. You should've seen Kitten, crying her eyes out because her mother refuses to tell her the truth."

"Alright. Let's sit."

Pops and I sit on the bench by the shelves. He clears his throat and says, "Eric and I belonged to the same Motorcycle Club when we were your age. He's not from this town but from the one close to where my parents live. Nothing illegal, ever, just to make it clear. We were a bunch of young guys who loved bikes. None of us was involved in shady shit. We were twenty good friends, your mom included. Your mom and I were dating back then, and you know we had Jimmy when I was a bit older than you."

"Yeah, when Mom was still in college, and you had a habit of getting into her dorms through the window."

"That's right." Pops chuckles. "Anyway. Eric got a girlfriend, and we started to see less of him. It was logical. Young love and all that. We still saw each other, but way less. He was in love, and we thought he would be the first to get married by the way he talked about her, although we never met his girl. But then something happened. Eric sold his bike and moved away, and we lost contact with him. I know he's back, though. In fact, he was at the party we had in the back yard."

"The dude you and Mom hugged."

Pops chuckles. "Yeah. He lives and works in the city and still rides, but as he said, he's a weekend warrior — someone who only rides his bike once in a while. It was good to see him."

"So, you don't know anything else about his girlfriend."

"No." Dad shakes his head. "But I can tell you something — Eric is a good guy, has always been. He didn't tell me much about why he moved away, but I think things with his girl didn't work out, and that was the reason why he left it all behind, even his friends."

"What if Leah really is his daughter?"

Pops half-smiles and smoothes his thumb over the picture of his friend. "Then, the poor bastard has lived all these years without knowing he has a kid."