CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF, Juniper has a heart somewhere in her chest. It beats like it should but that isn’t the unfortunate part. It feels more than she ever wishes for. She wishes she really didn’t have one so she wouldn’t feel all the travesty when it hits her and the wallowing emptiness that engulfs her at any given moment.

And she wishes that her heart wasn’t so goddamn fond of Castiel for some reason.

It has been an hour into the party. It was supposed to start two hours ago but the party never really starts until everyone arrives after being so fashionably late. Juniper is still sober from the copious amount of vodka watered-down by Cherry Cola. She can’t put a finger on whether she’s doing it on purpose or she’s actually making an attempt to turn over a new leaf.

Or the fact that at this very moment, Priya Patel is throwing up the contents of her stomach into someone’s Saint Laurent tote bag.

“Should we tell Maritza that Priya threw up in her bag?” Clementine winces at the gurgling noises coming up of Priya’s throat.

Juniper shudders and shakes her head, “No. That bag is ugly anyway.”

“Poor thing,” She shakes her head, “She doesn’t know when to stop when it comes to peach flavoured vodka.”

Juniper chuckles lightly, holding the cup to her lips as her eyes dart back to the glowing fire where a lot of people are dancing. Castiel arrived a while ago but she hasn’t worked up the courage to say anything to him, which is unusual of Juniper. He’s with Luke and Omar, playing a game of catch by the fire. Some girls have started to take notice of Castiel. He’s the new boy in town and just as rich as the rest and they’re calculating the necessary steps to get close to him by the end of the night.

“Okay, I may not know the full story but,” Clementine stops for a dramatic pause, putting her chin on Juniper’s shoulder, “You’ve been eyeing him all night ever since he got here. The Juniper I know doesn’t get scared easily. So, I suggest you go talk to him before one of the Beverly Hills chihuahua makes a move.”

Juniper shoves Clementine playfully, “It’s not that deep.”

“Not that deep?” She gasps as they start to walk towards the marquee that has food and drinks set out, “You keep looking at him. You don’t even look at Ethan like that.”

Juniper shakes her head, occupying herself by grabbing a cranberry canapé off the tray and taking a bite out of it. Clementine is still giving her all the reasons why she should go and talk to Castiel, despite not knowing the full details of everything but she’s zoning out on how good the food tastes. The perk of going to a party hosted by a bunch of rich kids is that the food are top of the line kind of stuff.

“--I’m serious. You’re gonna wake up one day and regret that you didn’t talk to Castiel-”

“Clem.” Juniper sighs and gives her a sideways look, “Calm down, alright? It’s between me and Castiel.”

Her bright blue eyes widen in excitement, “So, something did happen!”

“Here we go,” Juniper mutters to herself, dusting her hands together. She crosses her arms over her chest and slowly enunciates for Clementine, “It’s between me and Castiel. Alright?”

“Fine.” Clementine holds her hands up in defence, “No meddling.”

Juniper gives her a thankful smile and faces the table of food again, grabbing another cranberry canapé and popping it into her mouth. Something tumbles behind them and she can hear a group of boys laughing at each other. In her peripheral vision, she can see Luke grabbing Clementine from the back, hugging her tight against his chest with Omar making a direct beeline towards the food, stuffing his face bite after bite.

She turns around hesitantly and sees Castiel standing there with his lips pursed at the sight of her.

“Hey.” She greets with a mouthful.

“Hey.” Castiel greets her back flatly. He sounds out of breath and his tanned skin is slick with a thin layer of sweat, probably from all that running. He goes to the table filled with drinks and fetches himself a bottle of water from the cooler.

She takes in a deep breath and then steps forward to walk to him. Juniper watches his back intently, rehearsing the same line over and over again in her head.

“Castiel?” She clears her throat.

“Hm?” Castiel turns and suddenly she feels something lodge in her throat.

“I, uh,” Juniper starts. Her eyes are looking everywhere but at him. She watches the grain of sand pillowed underneath their feet as she gathers her composure before saying, “I just want to say sorry about today. Things are complicated on a day like this one, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. In fact,” she takes in a shaky breath when she finally looks up to see how closely he’s listening to her, “I should be thankful. For you. For what you did. I’m sorry.”

Castiel drinks from the bottle and then a smile breaks free on his face, “You’re lucky you have a piece of cranberry on your cheek. I can’t get mad at that.”

Juniper’s jaw drops before she hastily wipes both of her cheeks as he laughs. She feels her cheeks reddening.

“Okay, okay, here. Let me help. You’re not doing a good job.” Castiel snickers, holding her hands away from her face. He smiles down at how red her cheeks are and how hard she was trying to wipe her cheeks for the tiny piece of cranberry still clinging onto her skin.

Juniper freezes as he holds both of her hands in one and the other going up to her face. The string lights that tangles the rafters of the marquee flows above him and they surround him like a crowd at a concert, ever so enthralled by the star of the show. That’s what he kind of reminds her; a Broadway star. The light loves him; the sun, the moon he speckling string lights above them.

“Got it.” His finger wipes the smudge on her cheek and wipes it on his shorts.

“Thanks,” Juniper laughs nervously, “So, uh, you know Luke and Clem.”

“Yeah. Luke lives right next door to mine,” He pauses and tilts his head, studying every feature on her face. Juniper looks different from the first night he’d seen her at Ash’s party.

“Do I still have cranberry on my face?” Her hands fly to her face, self-consciously. Pressing her fingers on her cheeks, feeling nothing but smooth skin, Castiel shakes his head and laughs again, quickly grabbing her hands and pulling them away from her face.

She feels her heart jump at his touch again. She hates how warm they are. She hates how unbothered she is by how weird the sand feels as it sticks to his skin. All she can think about is how warm and safe they feel. It’s like if she falls, he’d hold onto her.

“No, you don’t,” he tells her, “You just seem a little different.”

Juniper blows a raspberry, “I’m just so fucking exhausted.”

He opens his mouth to say something but the high-pitched squeal coming from the entrance of the marquee erupts. Juniper lets out a frustrated sigh and rolls her eyes. It’s a default reaction every time Maritza comes in and disrupts the scene.

“There you guys are!” Maritza says, her arms spreading wide at the litter of people that stand before her. Luke and Clementine freezes in each other’s arms as Omar’s hand is in mid-air, holding a slider towards his mouth. Maritza’s grin widens when she turns her head towards Castiel’s direction but it falls the second she sees that he’s holding Juniper’s hands in his. Her eyes dart to Juniper as she slinks towards her, “Didn’t know you knew Juniper, Cas.”

Cas. She’s already using a nickname on him already.

“Yeah, I met her at the library,” He says, dropping her hands and then putting his in the pockets of his shorts.

Maritza snorts, crossing her arms over her chest as if she won a battle, “Ah, right. Court-ordered community service. How adorable. How Paris Hilton of you. It’s a good look on you.”

Juniper wants to punch her in the nose again and hear that familiar satisfying crack. Maybe this time, her plastic surgeon will do a better job. But she knows she should be on her best behaviour. That is, if Maritza would do the same. If all things go accordingly, they will all ride off in the sunset together in harmony.

Juniper bites down on her tongue and shoots her a blaring smile.

Maritza seems to enjoy the lack of insult coming from her and proceeded on what she came there for. She saunters over to Castiel’s side, holding his arm to her side and looking up at him suggestively. Juniper doesn’t fight herself on the eye roll and freely does it.

“I need someone to dance with. Care to join me?” She purrs, pouting at him.

He shrugs and then looks down at Juniper, “Dancing sounds fun. Let’s go, Juniper.”

“Wait-” Maritza’s face drops as Castiel slings one arm around her and the other around Juniper, taking both of them out of the marquee and towards the crowd that’s dancing around the large fire that blares into the night sky.

She wants to laugh right in Maritza’s disappointed face but she decides to play it cool and dances anyway, ignoring any intense glares coming from her ex-best friend. Five seconds in, Maritza steps in between Juniper and Castiel, facing him and dancing towards him in an attempt to close the gap between them. She shoots a triumphant grin over her shoulder, directing it towards Juniper, but when she faces him again, he’s already moving to dance between the girls.

The expression on Maritza’s face darkens when he takes Juniper’s hand and holds it above her head, twirling her around.

“Having fun, Mar?” Juniper yells through the music.

She doesn’t reply and instead, aggressively flicks her wavy hair off her shoulder and presses her back against his chest, dancing against him. Juniper scoffs to herself at the scene. Maritza is obviously rubbing her butt against his pelvis with one hand reaching behind her, holding onto the back of his neck. Juniper isn’t one to fight a girl over a boy, despite what Maritza said about getting punched in the nose because of a boy named Lewis. Perhaps it’s in the name of feminism but she’s not having it when it comes to someone aiding in the humiliation when Ridley sent out that video of her.

Castiel quickly takes a step back and purposely announces aloud, “I’m gonna go get a drink!”

He edges out of the crowd with Juniper following, just in time to lose Maritza on his tracks. When they take cover just to the side of the marquee, they both start to laugh.

“I’ve been trying to get away from her all night!” Castiel huffs, making Juniper laugh a little harder.

“Maritza’s unbearable but she doesn’t stop getting what she wants, you gotta commend her for that.” Juniper giggles and runs her fingers through her air. She plops down on the silky sand, dusting her hands off as she stares up at the dark sky peppered with specks of white.

Castiel sits down next to her, “I’m sure she’s a nice girl.”

Juniper scoffs, sinking her toes into the sand and resting her chin between her knees, “People are nice until they don’t have a reason to be.” She shudders at the slight pinch of the wind, “Which kind of explains the lack of friends I have. Luke and Clem are, like, the only few people who I can tolerate. Everybody else must come in dosages.”

He quirks a brow, “Even me?”

Juniper turns her head slightly, “Maybe I can tolerate you too. Question is I might be the one who needs to come in low dosages.”

“Nah, you’re selling yourself short.” he says and then a beat passes, “Are you feeling okay?”

She shuts her eyes at the question before opening them again, staring back at the sea. “I guess I’m getting by,” she lifts a brow at him, “Do you wanna go somewhere else?”

Juniper doesn’t realise it until she hears herself blurt it out and then it’s too late for her to take it back because Castiel is already getting up from the sand and says rather enthusiastically:

“Let’s go!”

She could still take it back and then spend the rest of the time here but she can’t help but follow him as he walks her to his car. And then it hits her how bad of an idea this is when, even after telling him all the directions, they arrive at the tall gates of the cemetery.

She expects him to say something, like how weird and creepy this is or how strange it is to bring a person you just met to a cemetery at 11PM but he doesn’t. Castiel just shuts the engine and lets the silence falls over them. She feels paralysed in the passenger seat, eyes staring back at the headstones scattered across the lawn.

“Are we getting out?” Castiel asks in the silence.

“Yeah.” she nods her head and swallows the lump in her throat.

Hopping out of the car, she tugs the hem of the beach dress she bought one summer in an overpriced boutique in Greece. Her body feels sticky of sweat and sand, a terrible, uncomfortable combination. The air is chilly and she can’t figure out of it’s the fact that they’re at a memorial park or that it’s late in the night.

She steps into the cobblestone pathway and Castiel follows her close by. He had slipped on the sweatshirt she had worn yesterday and now that he smells like the beach, she can only imagine that’s how his sweatshirt smells like too.

She leads him towards the headstone near a tree, where there is a single bouquet of fresh white tulips set right on the grass.

“In loving memory,

Rosalia Serrano,

19 March 1970 - 24 June 2015”

“My mom died five years ago,” Juniper starts and she feels herself being pulled against Castiel’s side, “Every morning, on the anniversary of her death, my dad and I would leave out a plate of waffles because it was her favourite breakfast food. Especially with maple syrup. And she’d make them with a hint of cinnamon,” she laughs softly at the time her mom accidentally poured in too much, “When she made waffles, it was always going to be a good day. I got to skip school for a day and my dad would get off of work early. Then, we’d go on spontaneous trips to the zoo or the aquarium or Disneyland or go see a show -- whatever we wanted to do. After she died, we’d leave a plate of waffles for her on the 24th of every June and it kinda meant that I could have a good day.” A frown falls over her face and a sigh escapes her lips, “But my dad forgot and I just got so angry seeing the spot where she used to sit to be empty. It’s the only thing that I could say she’s still with us. Or, you know, if he still cared.”

When she looks up to look at him, she expects him to be awkward, eyes avoiding contact like every other person would. But he doesn’t. His eyes don’t stare, no, they gaze ever so softly and they reassure her at every moment so far that she needed it. Castiel steps forward and puts his arms around her once again, pulling her into his chest for a warm hug.

“I’m so sorry, Juniper,” his voice is muffled against the top of her head.

“It’s okay.” She pats his back and looks back at the headstone. Sighing, she feels the tears stinging her eyes. “You know, I haven’t visited her grave for years. Can’t even remember the last time.” Juniper glances at the fresh tulips that lean against the headstone once more, the space between her brows crease. Who else could have been here?

“You said she liked waffles right?”

Juniper snaps out of her train of thought. “Oh. Yeah. She loved them.”

“Let’s go get some right now,” he suggests, “I hear there’s a great 24-hour diner in West Hollywood.”

“You wanna get waffles in the middle of the night?”

“Totally. Waffles should be something you can eat at any given time.”

“Okay.” She smiles, “I’d love to.”

With that, he walks her back to the car, pulls out of the parking lot and drives towards West Hollywood.

It felt strange for Juniper when she stood in front of her mother’s headstone after all these years. She doesn’t realise it until she’s in the passenger seat of Castiel’s car that there is guilt at the pit of her stomach for never making the effort to visit her grave. It’s not like she doesn’t want to. It just doesn’t feel real. And she guesses that she took Castiel there with her because she wanted him to hear it from her first, before anyone else gets to step in and tell him all the rumours that surround her death.

For some odd reason, she doesn’t want Castiel to be like everybody else. Maybe this is her chance to take control of things. Which is ironic when she really thinks about it. Causing all these endless chaos for her father and still not having enough control over anything else.

She sits up straight when Castiel drives into the parking lot of a diner with neon lights, keeping the darkness at bay. The inside is colourful, like a retro 60s diner. The floors are cherry red and white, in stripes, and glistens against the neon letterings of the diner’s name, Sweet Escape, in cursive. There are several baby blue booths by the windows and a long counter with stools in the middle. The menu hangs above the counter and the cafe smells of sweet pancakes, fries and syrup.

They choose to sit right in the corner, away from the noise of the group of teens on the other side, yelling at each other to see who can chug the fries and milkshakes the fastest. They order the diner’s famous milkshake, Castiel ordered vanilla while Juniper orders a caramel one, and a basket of sweet potato fries and two plates of banana waffles.

As they wait in silence, with Castiel preoccupied with today’s special written on the back of the menu, Juniper can’t help but notice how different it feels to be with someone who’s not hanging around her for social media exposure or the endless invites to parties. She suddenly doesn’t feel the pressure of constantly putting up her bad girl facade. Instead, she feels like she can finally just sit, breathe and just do absolutely nothing. It always felt like she always had to go so far with things just to satisfy her itching anger but right now, she feels how good it is to just sit in some diner-cafe-or-whatever with a boy from San Francisco, waiting for shakes and waffles.

When the food and milkshakes come, Castiel’s eyes light up like the stars in the cloudless night sky. Juniper smiles at how excited he is, with his mouth hanging open and his eyes solely focused on the food and drinks being transferred from a circular tray the waitress is holding onto the table in front of them.

“Enjoy yourselves, darlings,” The waitress shoots them a toothy grin before heading back to her station.

“Look at how good this looks!” Castiel moans when he takes a bite of the sweet potato fry and takes a large sip of his vanilla milkshake.

Juniper is staring at him in awe now. It’s truly mesmerising to see someone react with their every being. He closes his eyes in bliss with every bite he takes and his shoulder relaxes whenever he finishes the fry he’s having. Castiel is so engulfed in his own little world, so unaware of everything else around him. For a fleeting moment, Juniper forgets about everything else.

She almost wants to be him. So carefree, kind and extraordinarily beautiful.

The thing is, she’s not calling him beautiful for the way he looks. Not for his sunkissed, tanned skin. Or his wanderlust eyes. Or the way his eyes lights up each time he smiles. She thinks he’s beautiful because he’s just… Castiel. She can’t even put it into words. He’s just Castiel. Simply Castiel, who looks at the world the way her mother used to paint it to be like.

“Have a bite!” Castiel urges, gracelessly waving a sweet potato fry in Juniper’s face.

She laughs and catches the fry in her mouth. Castiel watches her intently as she chews slowly, savouring every part of the fry. It’s soft and pillowy. And sweet and a little savoury. They’ve dusted with cinnamon and sugar over the fries, she can almost taste each particle on the tip of her tongue. She closes her eyes and leans back in the booth.

“What’d I tell ya?” His voice brings her back down to earth, seeing a proud smile on his face. He takes another fry out of the basket and dips it into his vanilla milkshake before holding it out for her, “Now, taste this.”

Juniper’s nose scrunches in disgust, shaking her head, “No way, you’re weird. That’s gross!”

He gasps, mildly offended, “Don’t judge until you try it.”

Hesitantly, she leans forward slightly and takes the fry in her mouth, her tongue brushing against the tip of his fingers ever so slightly. The fry is cold at first but her eyes widen when the flavours explode in her mouth with so much sweetness. Juniper’s surprised at actually how good the combination is and Castiel can see it, smiling at himself once again.

“And that, my friend, is why you should never doubt me when it comes to food,” He smugly says, popping a sweet potato fry into his mouth.

“Alright, I won’t do it again,” Juniper chuckles and then looks down at the plate of waffles, drizzled with golden syrup and sliced bananas beautifully placed around it. She feels reluctant to taste it because it’s been years, five to be exact, and she’s terrified.

“You okay?” She hears him ask. He’s cutting up a piece of his waffle and pauses as he looks back at her.

“Y- yeah.”

He smiles softly and holds up a piece of the cut-up waffle, “To your mom.”

Quickly cutting up a piece, she bumps hers against his, “To my mom.”

When she pops it in her mouth, there is a wave of painful nostalgia. She remembers getting woken up by the sound of pots and pans, and how when she comes down the stairs to investigate, she would hear her parents laugh together. Then, she’d see the plethora of food on the table. Her mom always had a habit where she’d make too much which always ended with Juniper’s dad bringing some to work for his colleagues.

“Wow.” Juniper lets out a slow breath, “This is really good.”

“So good.” Castiel agrees, shoving more into his mouth.

Juniper smiles and takes a sip of her caramel shake. She’s glad she’s here but it’s slowly getting to her. She’s getting reminded of too much too fast. Clearing her throat, she looks for a quick distraction and asks, “Tell me something. Anything. Enlighten me with your wisdom.”

“Anything? Alright, let’s see,” Castiel hums and looks into space. He clicks his fingers and says, “I’ve learnt this thing. Kintsugi.”

“Kintsugi,” Juniper repeats after him as if she knows what he’s talking about and places her chin on the palm of her hand in interest.

“Is also known as Kintsukuroi,” He starts, watching the earnest interest over her face with a smile that doesn’t show often, “Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken ceramics which becomes even more refined even with its scars. So with kintsugi, broken pottery are fixed but they don’t hide the cracks. They show the beauty instead. It kinda tells people that broken objects are not something to hide but something to show with pride.”

She looks at him for a while as he returns his attention to the food in front of them. She wants to say something to him, something impressive, but doesn’t know what. She just knows how she feels; like he has opened the dark hollowness of her chest, spilling galaxies upon galaxies all over her for everyone to see.

_______________

“So, what is it like in San Francisco?” Juniper asks as they lay on the silk sands of the beach. They’re far away from where the bonfire party is, just far enough from the loud music and Maritza for Castiel’s sake.

He has his hands folded behind his head, his eyes staring back at the stars that seamlessly hang above them. She notices how the space between his brows crease slightly when he’s in deep thought and how he chews his bottom lip before he replies with a smile, “Rolling hills. That seems to go on forever. Cool buildings, with their own story to tell. It’s calm. Then, it’s loud. The summers are cool but,” he sighs and turns his head to look at her, “It’s not Los Angeles.”

Juniper looks away from him as quickly as possible because she’s afraid if she looks at him for another second, she could just close the gap between them. She hasn’t figured it out yet; why she likes the way he smells, why she cares enough to apologise, why she took him to her mother’s grave and why every time she looks at him, she has to force herself to look away.

“This place can be mean,” Juniper mumbles, admiring how the stars pepper the black sky, almost like the freckles on his skin. Juniper hates how she makes the instant connection of the starry night to him and his body. She shakes the thought of her head and adds, “But my mom loved it for every flaw and every pretty little thing.”

She doesn’t have to look at him to see the smile in his face when he says, “What was she like?”

There’s a pounding in her chest and she can hear the beat of her heart in her ears. She has never really talked about her mom out loud or to anyone. It has always been to herself, in her own mind and in her own silence. But maybe it is time. Maybe it’s time to talk about her mother out in the open.

“She was very kind,” Juniper sighs, feeling the tightness of her chest untangle and Castiel’s eyes watching her intently from across the sand, “She used to bake a lot. She loved to bake. She’d give out whatever she baked that day to the gardeners to take home. And she’d buy school supplies for their kids at the end of summer. She loved painting. God, she fucking loved it. She always had paint somewhere on her every day -- my dad and I used to guess what colour would be on her hands. My mom had a big heart. She cared for strangers and she saw the beauty in everything.”

There’s hesitance in the air and she can tell he’s trying to figure out if he should ask the question on the tip on his tongue. She knows exactly what he wants to ask. A lot of people would go by the tabloids and whatever their neighbours said about what happened to Rosalia Serrano. But not him. She knows he wants to ask what happened but he’s afraid.

“She killed herself,” She says and the hesitance in the air diminishes. Juniper can hear him exhaling sharply as he looks back up at the sky, biting the side of his cheek. “I was supposed to have a baby brother but he was stillborn. It broke her, completely. She stopped painting, stopped smiling-” her voice cracked at the image of her withering mother in her head, “-she became an empty shell and everybody took it as an opportunity to make up all these stories about my family.”

“I’m so sorry, Juniper.” Castiel takes her hand and holds it. “Nobody deserves that.”

She shuts her eyes, to keep the tears away. When she opens them, she turns her head and smiles at him softly. He scoots closer to her and brings his arm under her as she rests her head on his bicep, rubbing her arm reassuringly. Castiel loves to comfort people and he likes to listen. Juniper likes that about him. How he doesn’t expect anything back. He just does things because he wants to.

Juniper’s eyes falls to his lips and she can’t help but wonder how they’d feel against hers. She has never been hesitant to kiss anyone, regardless if she was sober or not. It doesn’t take much for her to do it. She can just easily find out if she just lifts her head slightly and feel it for herself. They look soft, but are they really? They look nice too.

“Why the fuck are you guys here? You guys are like a mile away from the party.” They avert their eyes above them, seeing Omar with his shirt as a turban around his head, eyes cloudy glaring down at them laying in the sand.

Juniper frowns and stands up, dusting the sand off her legs, “Taking shelter from Maritza. What are you doing up here?”

“I’m trying to find my car.” Omar blows a raspberry and watches Castiel get up from the sand. Then, he bumps his fist with Castiel’s as a greeting.

“I don’t think you should be driving.” Castiel chuckles, seeing how Omar is barely able to stand by himself.

He waves his hand airily, “Nah. I’m fine. It’ll wear off soon.”

Juniper raises a brow, “I don’t remember you driving here.”

Something twists in Omar’s face. His eyes enlarge to the size of saucers. He just realised something.

“Yeah.” he breathes out, “I absolutely did not drive here.”

“Okay, I think I should drive you back home.” Castiel says and turns to Juniper, “I’ll give you a ride back too, if you want.”

“That’d be nice, Castiel.” She grins just as he turns back to face Omar to give him support to walk to his car.

Just as Castiel pulls out of the parking lot, Omar passes out in the backseat with his cheek pressed against the window and his mouth hanging wide open, drool spilling from the corner of his mouth. He gets dropped off first since his house is on the edge of Calabasas. Then, Castiel drives to Juniper’s house and walks her to the door.

They stand at the front of her house for a while and she’s hesitant to say goodbye, turn around and come home because that would mean she has to return to a place that barely felt like home to begin with. Juniper playfully punches his shoulder as he averts his attention from the streets to her eyes, “Thanks for today. I never… I never had anyone try to cheer me up during a day like today.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Juniper.” He shrugs with a lopsided smile. Castiel tucks his hands away in the pockets of his shorts and looks down at the ground, kicking the rocks at his feet, “Look, I know that things haven’t been easy for you and I know that people gradually become numb to their frustrations but I just want you to know that you don’t have to hurt yourself to feel something.”

She feels her chest tug and tear like someone is clawing it to let the bird in her heart fly free. Juniper doesn’t know what to say but simply tells him:

“Call me June.”

Castiel blinks once. Then twice. His mouth hangs open until he says with the space between his brows creasing, “I thought you didn’t want to be called June-”

“No, I like it.” Juniper interjects. “I like June.”

He smiles and the light reaches his eyes, lighting them up and it reminds Juniper of fireworks and how they beautifully dance in the sky.

“Okay, June.”

“Goodnight,” she says, returning the same smile to him. They turn away from each other and head in opposite directions.

It’s quiet as always, almost hauntingly. No one greets her at the door and there isn’t any distinct smell in the air. No freshly baked cookies or fresh laundry. The air itself is empty, hollow and the house is a stage, merely filled with props. Like an elaborate facade. The grand double doors slam loudly, the sound reverberating throughout and her footsteps echo as she makes her way up the marble staircase.

Her room is already cleaned by one of the maids. It’s dark until she flicks the light switch, letting the crystal lights dangling from the ceiling illuminate her room. There’s a photo album peeking right underneath her bed. She hasn’t opened it in a while and she even forgot about it for the longest time. There’s a hit of guilt in her chest when she picks it up and sits down, setting it down on her lap and stares back at the matte red cover of the album with cursive gold lettering engraved on the surface: for Juniper, the one I love.

She opens it and the first photo is of her as a toddler sitting on her father’s shoulders at Disneyland, a pair of Minnie Mouse headband sitting on the top of her head. Juniper doesn’t vividly remember going to Disneyland in Paris but she trusts the huge gummy smile that’s on her face in the photo. When she flips to the next page, it’s a photo of her on her mother’s lap in the living room of her old house. They’re looking at each other and there’s an unforgettable smile on her mother’s face that Juniper finds herself staring at endlessly.

Juniper jumps slightly at the sudden knock at her door. It’s quiet the first few times until the very last knock which sounds hesitant yet loud. Her bedroom door creaks open as Heidi walks in slowly like she’s exploring uncharted planes or, in this case, walking on a minefield. Juniper raises her brow at her way as Heidi approaches her with a plate in her hand.

“I- I made waffles,” Heidi stutters, holding the plate out to reveal a stack of burnt waffles with maple syrup drizzled all over it. She sees the look on Juniper’s face and quickly adds, “It’s burnt, I know. I’ve never been a good cook.”

“Never said you were.” Juniper mumbles and takes the plate anyway, settling it down on her bedside table. She closes the photo album when she sees Heidi’s bright eyes glancing over at it quickly. Heidi is standing awkwardly by her bed, her long fingers tangled together and her legs as stiff as stilts. Juniper sighs, folding her legs underneath her as she sits on her bed, “What do you want, Heidi?”

“Uh,” Heidi’s lips are pursed as she gestures to the empty spot next to her.

Juniper reluctantly pats the spot next to her, inwardly cursing in her head as Heidi’s lips break out into a smile of relief.

“I just wanted to check on you,” Heidi slowly says as she sits down, “I wasn’t sure when you were going to be back home so the waffles are a little cold. And I couldn’t find honey so I don’t know if you prefer maple syrup or honey.”

“Maple’s fine,” Juniper shrugs.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Then, there’s the silence Juniper is dreading. If she wasn’t so tired and exhausted from today, she would already tell Heidi to shut the hell up and maybe even throw the plate of burnt waffles out of the window.

“So, the boy,” Heidi prompts, desperate to start a conversation.

Juniper’s eyes enlarge, “You were stalking me?”

“I wasn’t!” Heidi giggles, finally looking at Juniper to give her an apologetic look, “I was waiting for you to get home.”

She was waiting for her to get home.

Juniper ignores it and picks at the loose thread of her fluffy throw pillow as Heidi states haughtily, “He’s cute.”

“You’re married to my dad,” She feels an urge to remind her. Also because she doesn’t want to have a conversation with her stepmother on how she thinks he’s cute.

“I know,” Heidi holds her left hand up, showing off the big sparkling rock on her ring finger, “You don’t think this is one hell of a reminder that I’m devoted to a man?”

“No,” Juniper replies, thinking about how much the ring costs with its princess cut and the tiny little diamonds on the band, “It’s a reminder that you’re devoted to the money.”

She frowns and sighs, crossing her leg over the other and says, “That’s what everybody thinks. There’s no use in trying to correct anybody and everybody. Anyway,” Heidi gets up and looks at Juniper, “I’m glad you’re back home safe. Goodnight, Juniper.”

“Goodnight,” Juniper mumbles as she watches her walk towards the door and reaches the threshold, “Wait, Heidi.”

She turns, her hand on the door.

“Thanks,” Juniper smiles awkwardly and gestures towards the waffles, “For the waffles. It means a lot.”

Heidi smiles gladly, “No problem.”

She steps out of her room. Juniper glances over the waffles once more and reaches for the pocket of her dress. She feels something and pulls it out. It’s a napkin from the diner. Juniper can smell the waffles and sees the tiny grease stains of the fries they had earlier. She feels herself smiling down at it before putting it on her bedside table.