For a week, I had checked my e-mail obsessively, making sure I hadn't missed the e-mail from Maxxie's father. It was like a game, almost. It took my mind off of everything. Even Maxxie seemed to be happier about everything. Of course, I hadn't told him how John truly felt about me, and I wasn't planning on breaking his happiness by informing him. So, we stayed happy, and that was all we needed.

I stared at the little spackle dots on the ceiling and listened to Maxxie's careful breathing. My nimble fingers wove in and out of his silky hair. Last night's events were playing on repeat in my mind—everything from the hot tub to our adventure in the bedroom. Maxxie's beautiful face kept flashing in my mind and I couldn't help but crack a small smile as he stirred in his sleep.

The images flicked across the screen in a big, washed out blur. The lady's too-perky face was plastered with fake sympathy as people behind her filed through the large doors of a church. Her lips moved quickly as if to mask the sadness emanating from the crowd.

As I walked back to the concert hall I kicked snow to conceal my anger. I was upset with both myself and Maxxie. I was upset with myself because I'd nearly lost control of my temper when I was talking with him. I was upset with Maxxie for obvious reasons; he was being over emotional and irrational. Just because I decided to speak my mind didn't mean he had to go and decide he was moving to New York. The idea was absurd and made my blood boil even more.

There are a lot of things in this world that scare me, but I can honestly say that my biggest fear is an angry blonde American girl. "You're a cock sucking asshole," Melanie hissed. I was surprised at her tone and her choice of words. It seemed