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"Hold on." I gripped the armrest, shutting my eyes and trying to digest the tidal wave of information that had hit my shoreline of awareness. "I don't know a Doctor Giller."

"By any chance, do you know the Giller kids? They're about your age." Dion said. "I know the boy's name is Ollie."

Another hit was sent right into me, shocking my senses.

"So they're related...to me." I guessed.

"Well, from what my mom knows only by marriage and not by blood." Dion took the seat connected to his mother's. "Doctor Giller is kind of known for marrying a lot of women."

"And also sleeping around with women who he isn't married to," Dona mused with a bitter tone. "He dated women of all races, weight, height. It didn't matter. He ended up marrying a single mother in the mid-80s-who I'm presuming is your grandmother on your mom's side of the family. They didn't have any kids together but they were married for a brief time and they divorced. He soon met his current wife and had kids with her. Then those kids had offspring of their own, which led to the Giller family you see today."

I was left speechless. There was nothing I could contribute to this conversation besides silence. I was still trying to deal with what my grandma had told me yesterday. Now that I knew there was more to what my mother didn't tell me-like where she was from and how she met my father. Who lied about that kind of stuff? Even I claimed where I was from despite the horrific things I'd witness in all of those years.

"I don't believe you." I whispered.

Dona set down her cup and got up from her seat. "I wouldn't believe someone who told me that either. I know where you're coming from." She walked to the bookshelf and retrieved a slender book, handing it over to me. "Go through that all you want. Your mother is all over it. She was in nearly every club back in high school. You father was in the track and the football team. Check the senior superlatives."

"My dad did sports?" I asked, a bit surprised.

Dad had this strange limp that only came out when he ran and I couldn't imagine him playing any sports.

"Well he used to." Dona answered. "When he still could."

My fingers flipped through the yellowed pages, aging with time. I went to the front of the yearbook and saw the countless things my mother was involved in. Her eyes were bright with life-just like how she looked before the affair and the divorce that destroyed her.

A lump formed in my throat when I saw how happy she looked, making things in a pottery class, and then sitting with her friends on a field. She had been the president of a speech and debate team and captain of a volleyball team. I reached the senior superlatives and saw my parents in the largest photo as Biggest Pranksters.

In bold, swirling red letters, there were my parents' names: "Jonah Ellington and Jasmine Jama." I was expecting 'Biggest Flirt' or 'Cutest Couple' but I wouldn't think they'd end up in that category.

I cleared my throat and darted my eyes up at Dona. "What made them such big pranksters? That's a pretty heavy title."

Dakota snatched the yearbook out of my hands and slammed it shut. "I think that's enough. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Honey," Dona started to say, but Dakota wouldn't let her finish.

"No," he boomed and got up to his feet, grabbing my arm. I was forced up out of my seat. "I'm not interested in letting her know. I'm sure you're probably giddy as hell to tell someone that isn't Dion or me for the first time in eleven years, but I don't. This was years ago, mom. Get over it. She's not like her parents. What happened shouldn't reflect how you should feel about her."

"You're drunk." She concluded.

"Things may be a bit foggy, but that doesn't mean I'm clueless on what you're doing," he sneered and stumbled us out of the living room and up the stairs. I could hear his mother scuffling to herself and trying to say something to Dion, but he only told her that Dakota had a good point.

This really wasn't how I wanted to meet Dakota's family. I had possibly made the worst first impression in history. Dakota didn't mind from the looks of it though. Then again, he was still drunk and a lot bolder than he typically was if he'd been sober.

. . .

I was gifted with a dreamless night. A vacant blackness greeted me when I went to sleep last night. There was no activity behind my shut eyelids. This was my favorite kind of dreaming. Either my dreams were tortures and painful or they were empty, like my mother's eyes. There was no sweet in between that I could get. When I was younger, dreaming wasn't so awful, but that had all changed when I turned twelve.

Wiping a hand over my groggy eyes, I let out a long yawn. At some point last night, I had allowed Dakota to sneak into the spare room with me. I wasn't sure if he was still wasted, but I doubted it. I twisted my body around so I was directly in front of him. His left hand somehow remained on my hip despite all the movement.

Before getting in to bed with me, he had discarded his shirt and jeans. They are on the bedroom floor now, along with my shoes and clothes. I wasn't naked. Dakota had lent me some of his own clothes to sleep in. I wore his oversized gray sweater and some basketball shorts he had on hand.

He looked so peaceful asleep. The crinkles between his brows were gone. I was positive this was the first time his permanent scold was completely dissolved off of his face. I brought the tip of my index finger over one of his tattoos on his chest, outlining it's curves and lines.

"Stop that." He grumbled.

I continued to do it anyway.

Dakota sighed. "I said stop that. I'm trying to sleep."

"How many tattoos do you have in all?" I asked.

"Too many. I regret about half of them." He tapped his neck, touching his only neck tattoo of bird. "Especially this one."

"Most seventeen year olds don't get tattoos. Maybe you were too young."

"Eh, I guess. But there was a reason for some of them, but the others were out of impulse. They're kind of addictive. I got them all legally. You have to get parental consent when you're still a minor and since Dion knows a lot of tattoo artist from L.A., he let one of them do it. Mom was cool with it and so was Dion."

"Is Dion your guardian?"

"Yeah, but it's not like my mom doesn't have any say in what I can or cannot do." He opened his eyes. "You know what I just realized."

"What?"

"I didn't know you had a brother till you told my mom yesterday. Why don't you ever talk about him?"

"Why don't you ever talk about your dad?" I asked, but instantly regretted it when I saw a flash of pain hit his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. I don't talk about my brother, Lenard, because he's done some questionable things. He ended up in juvie a few times when he was in high school and then admitted himself into a mental hospital basically after he turned nineteen. I didn't talk with him much after that point, every time I went to visit him I kept blaming myself for making him the kind of person he is now."

Dakota strained his neck to look at me, lowering his head a bit so we were eye to eye. "Hey, listen to me when I say you should never blame yourself on how someone decides to live their life. I know, first hand, that people will do whatever they want, disregarding what you've done to stop them."

"You don't get it, Kota. I'm the reason he basically lost his mind-"

He wouldn't let me finish. "That's what you think, but I highly doubt that's true. I can tell you that after Diana died, I constantly blamed myself, thinking of what I could've done things differently. It took me a while to realize that it didn't matter what I did or didn't do at the time. She'd only ever make her own choices in the end. I had no power behind that. No one could've stopped her. And the same goes for your brother. We all have a choice, Silvia."

I had never seen Dakota speak so freely about his sister without freezing up and frowning at the sound of her name. My hand floated up to his cheek, lining up with the cheekbone, brushing the pad of my thumb over it.

We talked endlessly for the next hour and a half. Nothing serious was brought up. We enjoyed each other's company, kissing in between laughter. I kept teasing the drunk Dakota I'd seen a peek of the other night and he reminded me the drunk Silvia he'd seen at Pierson's house.

"You were more of a mess than I ever was," I noted.

"No way. Maybe I said a lot of things I probably shouldn't have said, but at least I didn't go as far as making my move on you. You were all over me after a few drinks. I had to be the gentlemen in the equation and rip you off of me. You're lucky I never pressed charges."

"That's a lie. You did not rip me off of you!"

"Yes, I did. You were very handsy. Do you know you've got this tendency of touching my stomach anytime we ever make out?"

"I do not." I lied.

"No need to be shy, I think it's funny. Especially with how pissed you were at how I ended the kiss."

I shrugged. "I will admit I am a talkative, hormonal drunk. But I'd rather be that than go off spilling secrets like you."

"Secrets?" he repeated my words slowly.

"You talked about how Diana le-" I cut myself off. "loved dancing...while sowing those dresses she liked fixing."

"That's not a secret I even knew," he said. "I feel like you're not telling me something."

"Phh. I've already told you everything I know."

"You're an awful liar." He got up on to his elbows, gazing down at me. "Silvia. Be honest with me. That's all I'm asking from you."

His eyes were so much bluer with him this close. The color of a thousand seas, roaring behind his half-slit eyes, looked at me with the utmost sincerity in his confusion. He had no clue what I'd almost hinted at. Frankly, I hadn't said too much to begin with to tip him off.

I understood, sooner or later, I'd slip up with my knowledge on Diana's child.

"When I was coming up here, I might have...slightly...overheard you confessing that Diana left a kid and that even you didn't know the father."

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, letting a loud breath out. "I can't believe I said that. That conversation didn't even cross my mind." Dakota sat up right, bringing me along with him and forcing me to sit up as well. Holding his two hands on my arms, his expression hardened. "Silvia, you have to promise me you can't tell anyone about that. The religious people of this town already talk bad about Diana for killing herself-saying it's a sin and all. If they knew she left a child, they'd only poke fun at her even more."

"I would never tell anyone." I collected his hands into mine, squeezing them. I hoped that cleared up any doubt he had in his mind. "It's not my secret to share."

"Good." He took in a deep breath.

"Can I ask one thing though?"

"Sure."

"It's a super small town, are you positive you don't know who the father is?"

"It's not that easy to figure out. I love my sister, but she involved herself with a lot of guys during her year last year on earth-guys I personally don't like. There's a lot of missing puzzle pieces on what she did during that time that I still haven't figured out. I've tried to narrow it down by using this diary she left behind, talking about her experiences, but she never wrote out names. She just wrote what she did with them or where they hung out. She'd add one small quality about the guy, but that's all.

"I even went as far as going to some parties, see if I could spot out who they were." Dakota went on to say. "If she was around, she'd want the dad to be involved in the kids' life. That's what she was trying to do before she died."

This surprisingly made sense why Dakota had been to Beth and Ollie Giller's party. He already didn't like being associated with them. It made sense if he snuck into that party just to get some kind of lead on who the father was.

"The closer I got though, the more Maven and Pierson would shut me out. They obvious didn't want me anywhere near their friends." Dakota rested his head on the headboard, relaxing his shoulders. His eyes were fixated on some point above my head, but he never directly looked at me when he spoke. "No matter what I tried, I couldn't get anywhere."

It was so sad to see Dakota like this. The defeat and internal turmoil rang clear in his eyes. It was hurting him to not know what she did during that year. There were some obvious gaps in the story that I was still wondering about, but I kept them to myself.

"If there's anything I can do to help, I will." I said and tangled our fingers together on the bed sheets. "It doesn't matter what it is, I'll try to help."

He smiled weakly. It was a half-smile, but it was a hell of a lot better than the frown he was showing off moments ago. "Thanks. But I think I'll be in a dead in for a little bit longer. I'll figure something out eventually."

. . . .

Around nine a.m., Dion called us downstairs for the breakfast him and his mom had made. I was surprised Dona hadn't kicked me into the streets yet or cursed me out for the parents I had. She was quite kind this time around actually and handed me my plate of steaming food.

When no one was looking, I swopped plates with Dakota. He chuckled to himself and leaned in close to my ear. "They aren't going to poison you. You're too paranoid."

I picked up the toast on the plate. "No such thing as too paranoid."

Heath had stayed over and slept in another spare room. There were three floors, not including the attic. In all, there were four people sitting around the table. Dion appeared at the entrance of the kitchen with a child in his arms. He placed her into the highchair at the head of the table.

I tried not to make direct eye contact with her. Children always made me nervous. They cried and cried, and I only got stressed out with every passing second. I applauded any parent out there who could handle children without losing their minds.

"Do you remember much of what you did and said last night, Dakota?" Heath asked while walking to the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup and sat back at the table.

Dakota winced. "I wasn't blacked out. I remember enough."

"You said some...interesting things." I smiled.

"Can we just pretend none of that happened?" Dakota groaned and turned to the infant, letting her wrap her tiny fingers around his thumb. "Don't you agree with me, Ophelia? We should just drop it and talk about something else."

Out of everything I'd learned this weekend, I still couldn't shake off the fact that Diana had left a kid. I'd lied to Dion, saying I didn't hear Dakota's little outburst on the truth, but it was eating at me now.

Dona left after she finished her plate so it was just the five of us at the table. The conversation felt forced at time, but Heath helped by talking about their gig the other night. Dakota had jumped into the crowd and he tried to encourage a mosh pit.

"With that kind of attitude, you'll get us kicked out from nearly every appearance we make." Heath said. "You need to calm down on the craziness and focus on the music."

"No one takes us that serious. We might as well have fun," Dakota said.

"Well, yeah." Dion agreed. "With the kind of band name you guys have no one will ever take you serious. What kind of name is 'Dakota and the Pull Out Methods' anyhow?"

"It's an amazing name," Dakota said. "Every single one of our band members were unexpected pregnancies."

I let out a loud, clear laugh. "That's ridiculous. You need to change that-pronto."

He faced Ophelia again. "You like that name, don't you? Your momma liked it and found it funny."

"Hey," Dion barked and gestured to me.

"She already knows." Dakota waved him off and went back to playing with Ophelia.

"I knew it." Heath hissed. "Great, now we're ultimately screwed."

"She's not going to tell anyone." Dakota assured them.

"Yes, the fuck she will. You said once that she's friends with Pierson and his friends. I know she will tell people," Heath sneered, putting a toothpick between his lips. "It basically a waiting game now to see when she'll spill the beans."

"First of all, I will not be telling anyone Ophelia is Diana's daughter," I snapped. "Second of all, stop acting like Sylvester Stallone from the movie Cobra and take that toothpick out of your mouth. You look stupid. You've only had coffee for breakfast, what can you possibly be picking at?"

The table was silent for a heartbeat, till it erupted with laughter. Heath even laughter along and it sounded pretty genuine. However, he didn't take the toothpick out of his mouth.

Once everyone had settle down again, Heath started talking. "Dakota, why don't you have her fill in for the plan?"

"What? God no. I'd never get her involved in that." Dakota's voice boomed. "Besides, she's not even on speaking terms with Pierson or his friends."

"That can easily be changed." Dion brought up.

"I don't want him anywhere near her," he snapped. "How many times do I have to tell you guys this? I feel like I've said it a million times."

"She can be our key inside."

"What plan are you talking about?" I asked.

I wish I hadn't.

- - - - - - - - -

A/N: What do you think will happen next? Also, what's your thoughts on the new cover? I think I might change it again. IDK :P ....

Song for the chapter is: Ophelia by The Lumineers

Lyrics:

❝You been on my mind just like a drug.❞

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