PROLOGUE

They think I don't know about men.

I've seen lots of men. They aren't much different from women, really. A few differences in physiology, and in development. The more angular face, the broader shoulders, the slimmer hips. The way the clothes hug the muscular parts, in the arms and the chest and...you know. I like thinking about that other part, that part that good little girls aren't supposed to think about. And then suddenly I'm not thinking about just men anymore; I'm thinking about him.

They think I don't know about desire.

Well, maybe I don't know, but I have an idea. You can fool your head, and sometimes I think you can fool your heart, too; but you can't fool your body. Every time I'm with him, just sitting by him or even just thinking about him, I feel all tingly. He holds my hand sometimes when we walk, and I feel so safe. Or I'll fall asleep on his arm while the TV drones on, and he lets me stay there until it's too late for either of us to be awake. Then he lets me curl up on the sofa and puts a blanket around me, and kisses me goodnight. And when I used to have nightmares, about everything that I'd seen, he would hug me and hush me and rock me until the darkness didn't seem so horrible anymore. Then he'd smile at me to make sure everything was all right, and with him there, it was.

They think I don't know about love.

I love the way that he smiles, the way that he laughs. He has the greatest mouth. And I love his eyes. They're beautiful: so blue, so bright. He looks at me and I go all fluttery over it, and when he laughs it makes me just melt. When I first saw him in Raccoon City, even among all those terrible things, he looked like a hero, like an angel, even. An angel with blazing guns and a killer smile. An angel named Leon Kennedy.

It's been a while since Raccoon City, since that Umbrella accident that no one likes to talk about. But I met my destiny there, in that glorified backwoods town. I met the face of human evil, in that disgusting, traitorous police chief. I met the definition of horror in all of the monsters that crawled and moaned through the city. And I met the only man that I would ever love.

Leon, Leon, Leon. His name is a little like music. I look up at the ceiling and I can see his face. I roll over and bury my head in the pillows and I can smell his sweet chocolate breath. I wrap myself in the warm comforter on the bed and I can feel his arms around me. I wish I could tell him how I feel, all those strange and wonderful feelings that bubble up inside me whenever he's close.

We're going out today, to meet with Jill Valentine and some of the other old S.T.A.R.S. But the important thing is that I'll be with Leon, and I know nothing can go wrong. I have to tell him everything; it's all or nothing.

There's a knock at the door and I jump out of bed. "Come in."

Leon sticks his head in and grins at me. "Hey, you ready, kiddo? Jill and the others should be pulling into town soon. I thought we could grab a couple of burgers and sodas before they get here."

"Cool!"

"All right, then! Let's kick up some dust!" He starts to turn around for the main door. That grin follows him like a Cheshire Cat's.

"Leon?" I call softly.

He turns back to me, a look of concern crossing his features. "What is it?"

"Um." Oh, God, now what do I say? "I'm kind of nervous. Do you think Claire will be there?"

That grin that had fled for a moment is back in full force. "I hope so!" He tosses his head toward the door. "Come on, Sherry; some greasy food'll take care of those butterflies." He holds out his hand to me, and it's more than I can resist. I take his hand and we leave the little hotel room together.

Leon, you're the absolute best.

1 - Evening With An Angel

"You're awfully quiet."

Leon looks at me from over the rim of his milkshake. He always gets kid food when we go out, just the two of us. I think when he picked me up at Aunt Kate's, and we all went to dinner, it was the first time I'd seen him eat a meal using utensils. I think he's worried that I'll think he's snobby if he takes me out to eat someplace classy.

When he sets down his glass, the creamy residue at the corners of his mouth causes me to stare, but I can't help it. He seems to notice and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, then smiles softly. "Sherry?"

I suddenly take a renewed interest in the thick blob of ketchup on the side of my plate, swirling a french fry in it, making little designs in the bright red mass. The color makes me think of Claire's vest, which sits draped over my chair, at the moment. "Do you think they'll like me?" I ask him quietly.

"Who?" Leon asks, then adds, "Jill and the others?" I look up just in time to see a grin split his face. He taps me on the arm in a very casual, what-are-you-thinking sort of way. "Of course! And even if they didn't, you know that Claire does." He touches my hand, adding softly, "And I do, too. That's all that matters."

"Yeah?" I look at him from under my bangs; I should have gotten them trimmed a long time ago, but it's too late now. I drop the now-soggy fry into the ketchup and laugh a little. "I guess I am being kinda silly. I'm just so nervous!"

Leon waves his hand. "Ah, don't be. To tell the truth, you probably would have had more fun if you'd stayed at the hotel and watched cable. This'll probably get pretty boring for you."

I shake my head. "Nah, I'm glad I came with you. I like spending time with you." I stop, watching him smile at me, wishing for all the world that I could just fall into his arms and hug him. But instead I add, "And I wanted to see Claire." That seems like the safest way to go.

He nods. "Yeah, I know what you mean." He looks at his watch. "Oh, shit! We're gonna be late." He starts to get up, then points a finger at me. "You didn't hear me just say that."

I smile at him and grab my vest, slipping it on as we head for the cashier's stand. "Have you ever been to this place?" I ask after a few seconds of looking around for an attendant.

Leon shakes his head, those cute red-brown bangs dusting his forehead. "Nope. But it shouldn't be hard to find. There aren't many renter cabins around these parts."

"We're going to a cabin? Like in the movies?"

I've never been to a cabin before. In Raccoon, Mom and Dad and I lived in one of those cookie-cutter houses, and Aunt Kate lives in a condo because the land out west is crazy-expensive. And I was in Leon's apartment for a day when we detoured from California, but he lives pretty much like a typical single guy who works for the government. Before we got there, I thought he lived like Fox Mulder, from TV, but he doesn't. Instead, he lives in this converted house, in a one-bedroom apartment that looks pretty empty on the outset, but once you get inside and really look around, is filled with all of this little junk. He's got this big book of newspaper and magazine clippings about Raccoon and Umbrella; I think there's still something about that whole thing that bothers him. I don't know why he didn't go back to being a cop after Raccoon - he started working for some government agency, like the FBI or something; he doesn't talk about it much - but I think Umbrella had a lot to do with it.

"Yeah," Leon whispers, bending close to my face, and I can smell the sweet strawberry of his milkshake on his breath. "It's right on the edge of a little place called... Crystal Lake!" And he grabs my shoulders and shakes me a little, and I shriek.

"Can I help you?"

We both look up to see the cashier standing behind the counter, and we straighten ourselves like two little kids caught playing football in the house. Leon pays the girl, and they have some superficial discussion about the weather.

"You've got a cute little sister," the girl behind the counter suddenly says to Leon, and I notice that she's smiling at him a little too long. What is she doing, coming on to him?

Leon glances at me, then back at the girl. "She's not my little sister."

"Then isn't she kind of young for you?" This girl apparently thinks she's dealing with one of the regular country bumpkins and not ex-RPD cop Leon Kennedy, scourge of monsters everywhere.

I really want to see him put this girl in her place, but instead he just shrugs and says, "Age isn't everything." Then he flashes the girl a smile, and the girl rolls her eyes. All I can do is stare after him, for so long that he gets to the door and has to whistle and wave his hand at me, to get my attention back.

He's never said anything like that before. I feel my face start to go red, and I can barely look at him as we get into the car. He starts talking about something - it could be road conditions or Italian sonnets, for all that I'm paying attention. The sky outside gets suddenly very dark as the stormclouds start to rumble in, and so while we're driving, I'm looking out my window but I'm really just looking at me, and, past me, at Leon.

For the last ten minutes or so, he's stopped talking in favor of listening to the radio. He stretches his neck back and forth, although he's not as clear in the window as I am, so I have to turn fully toward him to watch him. His blue eyes move almost constantly from windshield to mirror to windshield to other mirror and back again. He steals a moment to look at me, I guess because I'm staring at him.

"What?" he asks, those wonderful lips remaining ever-so-slightly parted as he turns back to face the road.

I turn to look out the windshield, hoping that the dark will cover the fact that I'm blushing. "Nothing."

"You sure?" Leon turns off the car and I have to turn to him. I didn't realize that we were already here. He's leaned back in his seat, his ear against the headrest, looking at me with those deep, blue eyes. The rapid patter of rain on the roof makes me feel like there's no where else in the world except for right here, in this little bubble of silence between us.

There's something sad about him as he looks at me. Something that makes him seem a lot older than he really is; I'm not sure exactly what it could be. His lips form a slow smile at me - not coaxing or funny, just a simple smile - and I smile back at him.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I whisper, nodding my head gently.

Leon nods back at me. He leans close to me, and suddenly his head is nearly in my lap, and my heart is beating in my chest like a rabbit's. He doesn't seem to notice; he reaches into the glove compartment and yanks something out. He slaps it on my head, and I realize that it's an old baseball cap. I glance into the windshield, and with the darkness behind it, it's like a mirror, so I can see the white letters RPD emblazoned on the front of the cap.

Leon taps the brim of the cap and grins at me. His hand goes for his door handle. "Wanna race for it?"

I adjust the cap so that I don't look like such a kid in it. I've got enough of a ponytail to push through the rear of the cap, and it makes me proud to think that I look a little like Claire in it. I grab my own door handle and smile at Leon. "Okay. Go!" And I bolt out the door, slamming it locked behind me, while Leon yells after me: "Hey, that's cheating!"

We're both laughing and screaming on the way up the path to the cabin, and I dimly realize in the haze of laughter that there are shapes moving inside the cabin; I can see the silhouettes from behind the curtained windows. We're barely on the porch - Leon cries, "It's a TIE!" even though my foot touched the top step first - when the door opens, flooding us both in amber light.

The woman standing there is beautiful. Even though she's dressed simply in jeans and a sweater, her chestnut-colored hair tied back in a simple ponytail, there's a smile on her face that makes her look like a movie star. It's a smile I've thought about a million times since Raccoon.

"I thought it would be you. That, or a herd of wild horses."

"Claire!" I cry, nearly jumping into her arms and bowling her over. She's so warm, and she smells like shampoo, and her arms are so strong. Being held by her now feels just like it did back in Raccoon.

She pushes me away to look at me, taking off the cap and running her fingers through my bangs. "Sherry, you look beautiful! And I can't believe how tall you've gotten!" Then she pulls me into another hug, punctuating her tightest grip with a little grunt.

"Hello, Claire," Leon says softly from behind us, and I can feel Claire's grip deteriorate. She seems to forget all about me; they both seem to forget all about me.

I turn around to watch as Claire steps up to him very slowly. "Leon..." she starts to say, and then she just tumbles into his arms. I can tell from the way that they hug that there's more to the two of them being together than either one has ever told me.

They stand like that, in the cool early evening air, for nearly a minute. Then Leon whispers to her, so softly that the only reason I can hear at all is because I'm standing right next to them: "I've missed you so much." And suddenly I'm not so sure I'm glad we came.

2 - Unexpected Invitation

Claire sits down next to me on the little sofa, leaning in to talk to me while Leon checks in with Claire's brother, Chris. Everyone seems pretty nice, but I can't help feeling a little out of place. Leon was right; this is pretty boring. We've been here for two hours and all anyone's really talked about is Umbrella and something called Bioject. Claire tries to make me feel more at ease with idle talk.

"How do you like California?" she asks, offering me a smile.

I shrug. "It's okay. The parks are nice." I look down at my hands, clasped in my lap.

Claire waits a moment, then says, "That's it? No exciting stories? How about school?"

"School's school."

"Okaaay," Claire says softly.

From out of the corner of my eye, I can see her look around the cabin nervously. How come it was so easy to talk with her when we were stuck in the sewers of Raccoon? Now it's like getting my teeth pulled to have a conversation with her. I thought it would be different. I thought it would be like it was back then. But there's something wrong.

"What about boys?" Claire asks suddenly. "Any boys I should know about?"

I can't help smiling at that one, and Claire laughs.

"I knew it!" She claps her hands gleefully. She leans close to me again, biting her bottom lip between questions, waiting for me to answer. "What's he like? Is he smart? Is he cute?" I can tell that she's trying really hard to make me feel better about this whole thing; I guess it's pretty obvious that I don't feel so comfortable.

I sigh dramatically. "Yeah, he's cute. And he's smart, too. He can be a joker sometimes, but he's also really sweet."

"Wow, sign me up," she mutters, fanning herself with one hand, and we both laugh.

"What are you talking about?" Leon sits down on the floor next to us, blowing some stray bangs out of his face. He takes a sip from one of the steaming mugs he's carrying.

"Girl stuff," Claire responds, wrinkling her nose at him. "You wouldn't understand." She knocks him playfully with her leg, but I notice that she doesn't move it away after that. In fact, I can see her boot move very slightly up and down his leg, rubbing his thigh with the side of her foot. It makes me want to look away.

"Oh, I see," Leon drawls, sneering at Claire a little bit. "I guess only Sherry gets hot chocolate, then." He extends one of the mugs towards me, but he's still looking at Claire. Why do they talk about me like I'm not even here? It's like back on the porch when we got here. Claire's brother Chris practically had to pry the two of them off of each other. It's kind of sickening, if you ask me.

Claire's mouth drops open. "You'll get cocoa for her but not me, huh? Well, I'll just get my own, then."

Claire stands up and goes over to the kitchen area; we both watch her go, except that Leon watches her a little too long, and his eyes rove a little too much over her figure. When he turns back to me, he's got a smile on his face, but it falls when he looks straight at me.

"Something wrong?" he asks; he seems to ask me that a lot. He puts a hand on my knee; I stare at it for a few seconds before turning back to him. It's so hard to stay mad at him when he does stuff like that.

"No," I say, shrugging. I look into my mug, blowing hard into the steam so that even more steam comes up. It surrounds my face with the smell of bitter chocolate. I take a sip, and though it's hot, it doesn't make me feel any warmer. "I'm just bored, is all." I don't like lying; I don't like it at all. But I don't think I could tell Leon the truth right now. I'm not even sure I know what the truth is.

Leon nods. "Yeah, me, too," he whispers. "You want to finish that," he nods toward the mug in my hands, "and we can split?"

I smile at him. "Yeah, if that's okay."

He grins at me. "Sure." Then he looks up, scooting aside a little as Claire sits down again. He taps her on the leg and says, "I think we're going to head out soon. It's getting late."

She looks up at the old clock hanging on the opposite wall and registers the time. "Okay. Just let me get some stuff together?" She takes a gulp from her own mug before setting it down and standing up again.

"Yeah, we'll wait," Leon assures her.

I watch Claire go off, then turn back to Leon. "Claire's coming with us?" When did they decide that? And why didn't they tell me before now?

Leon nods again. "Yeah. There's not much for her to do here. I thought it'd be nice to hang out, just the three of us."

"Oh, okay," is all I can say. I guess it's enough for Leon, because he doesn't press me any more about it.

Claire comes back a few moments later with a backpack slung over her shoulder and carrying a leather jacket. She rocks forward on the balls of her feet and says, "Whenever you're ready."

Claire's brother, Chris, comes over to us. He puts a protective hand on Claire's shoulder. "You're going to be all right?"

Claire rolls her eyes so that I can see. "Yes, Chris."

Leon smirks at the two of them. "We'll all be fine."

Claire hooks her arm through Leon's and reaches out for my hand. "Ready to go, Sherry?"

I look at the two of them. For a moment, I want to jump up to them, hug them both and never let them go. There's something about them, about the way that they look at me, that makes me feel safe, like I belong. But then Leon looks at Claire, and there's a longing in his eyes that I've never seen before, and it makes me want to cry. So I mutter, "Yeah," and shove my hands into my vest pockets.

Claire looks at me a little strangely, a little bit hurt, and even though I don't want it to, it gives me a little satisfaction to reject her offering.

I can feel her eyes on me as I walk toward the car. I can't say anything to them as we get in and drive off; part of me is too tired, the other part is just too confused. Why does it have to hurt like this? Why does Claire have to be here? Why can't it just be me and Leon? We were doing just fine. It's not like we need Claire here; she'd probably do just as well to stay with her brother and the others. It's not fair.

Sitting in the back seat, listening to the low drone of the radio, I can't help but drift into a kind of light sleep broken by the occasional bump on the road.

3 - Creature From The Birkin Lagoon

I lie here in my bed, wondering exactly just what it is that they're doing in the next room. There's some muffled talking, then laughter, then silence. The silence is the worst! I reach over to the nightstand and turn on the radio; it doesn't matter what's playing, as long as it drowns out any sort of sound from the outside. There's a station playing some old song that they use in movies a lot.

This isn't helping at all.

Why should I hide away in my room? It makes me feel like I don't belong! We were supposed to hang out, "just the three of us," as Leon said. So when did "the three of us" turn into just him and Claire?

They treat me like I'm just a kid, and I'm not. I'm almost fifteen, and I'm a lot more mature than a lot of other people I know. Maybe they just don't want me around. I saw the way Leon was mooning over Claire the whole time we were at the cabin; it was like I didn't even exist. How can he treat me like his best friend at dinner and then forget all about me half an hour later?

"Sherry?" I hear Claire's muffled voice through the door.

"Yeah?"

She pauses. "Can I come in?"

"I guess."

The door creaks a little as Claire pushes it open, and the darkened little bedroom is suddenly bombarded with light from the main room. She stands there for a moment, her silhouette looking perfect. For a split second, I can understand why Leon looks at her the way that he does.

But it doesn't make it hurt any less.

She comes to the edge of the bed and sits down, looking at me gently. She doesn't turn on the light; she seems to understand that the darkness is nice right now. Still, I can see her face plainly enough. It reminds me of being in Raccoon, in the sewers, where it was dark and smelly and there were those awful monsters trudging after us. I think I felt safer in Claire's presence then than I do right now. There's something about her now that bothers me...not dangerous, but threatening somehow.

"You've been so quiet," she says softly. "I thought we could spend some time together tonight, but you've been locked up in here ever since we got back."

"It didn't seem like you wanted company," I mutter.

"What?" Claire asks, leaning in closer to me.

I roll over onto my side, turning away from her. "Nothing," I tell her quietly.

I feel Claire shift her weight away a little bit. She breathes softly, almost sighing. "Sherry, is there something you want to talk about?"

I don't want to feel this way. I don't want to be angry at Claire. Why can't she just let things be the way they were? Why does she have to take him away from me?!

"No," I say quietly, talking mostly into my pillow.

"Are you sure you don't want to come out? We're watching a movie." She giggles softly, and I can tell she's trying really hard to lighten the mood. "It's pretty good, for an old monster movie."

I roll over, looking up at her. "What movie is it?" At least if it's a monster movie, they won't be making out on the couch.

Claire smiles. "'Creature from the Black Lagoon.' Leon's choice, of course."

I guess if Leon thinks it's cool, then it can't be all bad. I put the pillow aside and swing my legs over the side of the bed. "Okay."

The two of us go out to the main room, where the TV is, and on the sofa, Leon straightens up and smiles at me.

"Hey, you almost missed the part where the hired hands get ripped up," he says jovially, patting the sofa.

I flop down on the sofa beside him, and I try to stifle my grin. Claire sits down next to me, leaning over me occasionally to fly responses at Leon's offhand comments.

At one point in the movie, Claire sniffs. "Why the heck is the girlfriend going swimming if they know there's a monster in the lagoon?"

Leon makes a face at her. "Because they don't know for sure that the monster's down there. Besides, they had to have a swimsuit scene in a movie with 'lagoon' in the title. Duh."

Five minutes later, after the underwater scene, which I thought was pretty cool, there's this little confrontation between the girl and the creature where it scrapes her foot with his claw. Then she panics and the men on the boat need to rescue her. At that point, Leon leans over and snickers at Claire.

"There goes the woman jeopardizing the mission again." Leon sneers, goading her.

Claire drops her jaw a little, then slaps him over my head. "I'll remember you said that next time you have to catch a train out of a condemned city."

"Hey, don't hit me!" Leon mock-shouts, reaching over me to start tickling Claire.

"Excuse me!" I say loudly, and they both back down. Whenever they're together lately, they act just like kids. It's immature and annoying. But I guess it's better than the alternative.

"Sorry, Sherry," Leon murmurs, clearing his throat.

On my other side, Claire giggles under her breath. "Busted," she whispers.

The two of them start snickering, stealing glances at each other, as if I wasn't there. I cross my arms in front of my chest and sigh. Loudly. I hadn't noticed before just how much the two of them flirt. But it goes on like that non-stop for the next half hour or so.

Finally, the movie ends, and Leon stands up to turn off the TV, and to stretch. Both Claire and I watch him, because there's nothing better to watch, and because he's really cute when he does that. When he's done, he looks at his wristwatch, then at me. "I think it's time somebody went to bed."

I turn my head to look at Claire. "Where are you going to sleep?"

Claire's face falls; I don't think she was really prepared for that question. She glances at Leon, muttering, "Umm..."

"Why are you looking at Leon?" I ask pointedly. I don't mean for it to come out sounding so angry, but I can't help it.

Leon sits down next to me, patting my hand and forcing a genial smile. "Hey, Sher, no need to worry about your privacy. Claire's sleeping in the second room."

"What about you?" I ask, blinking so that I don't have to meet his eyes for too long.

Leon leans back against the sofa. "Out here. Somebody's got to keep an eye on the front door."

Claire chuckles, though it sounds forced. "Of course!"

Leon nods. "Of course," he repeats, softly, as if to placate me.

Their timing is too perfect. Did they practice this little conversation while I was in my room? There's a moment of silence between us, while I let the two of them stew. Finally, I get up and give a staged yawn.

"Just curious," I tell them. I walk toward my room. "Good night."

"Yeah, good night," Leon calls after me haltingly.

Even when I shut the door on them, I can still hear his voice in my head. I lie down on the bed and wrap myself in the covers, but it's no comfort. A little while later, the lights from the main room are clicked off, and I hear the door to the other bedroom close, behind Claire or behind Leon or behind both of them. I don't want to get up and check.

It's been a long time since I've cried in my bed; I haven't done it since just after Raccoon, when I'd have those horrible dreams about Mom and the monsters. But tonight I can't help it. I cry into the pillow so hard it makes my throat and chest ache. All I want is to be home with Aunt Kate, away from Claire, away from Leon, even. Anyplace, so long as it doesn't hurt so much.

4 - I Know What You Want

Every time I wake up, I have to think about where I am. Usually, it isn't that difficult. The familiar smell of toast and coffee coming from Aunt Kate's kitchen is what I've gotten used to. The last few days, staying in this hotel with Leon, I've woken up to the sound of a shower running and some pretty terrible yodeling that Leon likes to call his morning serenades. But today, it's quiet, and it takes me a moment to realize that I'm still in the hotel and not someplace new.

I go up to the bedroom door and open it, just far enough that I can peek outside. There's light coming out from under the bathroom door, and, before I can shut my door again, Claire steps out holding a towel.

Her hair is loose and trailing down her shoulders in shiny clumps. They make these large, wet splotches on her t-shirt, and I have to wonder if she's cold that way. As she passes by the door, she smiles at me.

"Morning, Sherry," she whispers. "Did you sleep okay?"

I look down at my bare feet, because it makes me feel a little funny to see her in just a shirt and her underwear. "Yeah," I mutter quietly. Suddenly, I look up at her again. "Why are we whispering?"

Claire points in the direction of the sofa, where a slumbering Leon has kicked a blanket to the floor. "Rip Van Winkle's not up yet. You want to do the honors?"

I look from Claire to Leon and back again, and I find that I can't even get up the nerve to say anything, let alone walk over to the sofa. Mostly, it's because of Leon.

It's both very intriguing and also very frightening seeing Leon asleep. His hair is all messed up, with his reddish bangs flying out in every which way. And he's not wearing a shirt, either, just a pair of shorts. They're not boxers, though, because I can't see into them. They look more like jogging shorts or something.

He looks really adorable that way, but I don't think I've ever seen a guy up close when he didn't have all his clothes on. Even my dad, on the occasions when I did see him, seemed like he was always dressed in a suit and a lab coat. He would go into the bathroom in the morning wearing pajamas, and he'd come out a half hour later completely dressed for work. And guys in movies or on TV don't count. Everybody sees those people without their clothes on.

But with Leon, it's different. I've never really thought of him without his clothes on. In fact, even though lately his wardrobe has consisted of jeans and shirts and sneakers, when I think about him when he's not right in front of me, I think about the way he looked when I first saw him. He's got that police uniform on, with that weird vest-thing on his chest, and those cool, big, black boots. And he's not afraid of anything, just like Claire.

Claire's still looking at me expectantly. She bends over a little, touching her hands to her knees in an almost flirty gesture. I'm sure that, if Leon were awake, she'd be doing it mostly for his benefit.

"I thought you..." I start to say, and then I look at Leon again. "I mean, I didn't think he'd really sleep on the couch."

Claire straightens up quickly, and when I look back into her eyes, they're wide, like big, blue-green saucers. Jeez, now I've done it.

Suddenly, Claire starts to laugh. The smile that graces her face is so friendly, so charming, that I find it hard not to be entranced by it.

"What's so funny?" I ask slowly.

Leon moans from his makeshift bed, and then he clamps a pillow over his head. "Five more minutes," he grumbles to us from beneath the pillow.

Claire touches my shoulder and glances back at Leon. She directs me toward my room, and then she follows me inside. She closes the door behind her. "Why don't we sit down?" she says, waving in the general direction of the mussed bed.

I sit down, up near the pillows, curling my legs beneath me. Claire sits down next to me, laying the towel in her lap. For a moment, she doesn't say anything. She just looks at me like she hasn't seen me in years.

"What?" I ask finally.

Claire smiles, then leans in and hugs me, a little roughly. "Oh, sweetie..." When she pulls back, she brushes a hand through my messy hair, smoothing it away from my face. She bites her lip, then whispers, "You like him, don't you?"

"Who? Leon?"

Claire purses her lips. "No, Frankenstein's monster. Of course, Leon." She pauses, her expression softening. "I'm right, aren't I?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I guess." It's hard to look at her, so I start to pick at the little fuzzballs on my nightgown.

She puts a hand under my chin, forcing me to look at her. "He is pretty cool, isn't he?"

I start to smile, thinking about eating dinner with him at the restaurant, and wearing his old baseball cap, and sitting next to him on the couch. "Yeah."

Claire sighs dreamily. "You know, when I was your age, I felt the same way, too."

"You did?" I ask quietly, leaning in closer to her. "About who?"

"Barry Burton, if you can believe it!" Claire laughs at her private joke. She stares off into space, as if reliving those days. "I thought he was so great. I mean, he was a lot bigger than my brother, and he knew all sorts of things. He always treated me like I was somebody special. I guess because his own kids weren't very old yet." She grins. "You know, he gave my first ride on a motorcycle. I remember Chris nearly flipped out over it. I totally idolized him."

She smiles to herself, then looks back at me. "But I grew out of it. And you will, too."

I jump up from the bed. "No!" I yell forcefully. "You don't understand!"

Claire reaches out to me, like a zookeeper reaches out to a chimp that's banging against its cage. "Sherry," she mutters, trying to be soothing. "I know that crushes can be hard..."

"It's not a crush!" I shout, so loud that my throat starts to hurt, but I can't help it. And I don't care. "And I won't get over it! Stop treating me like a baby!"

"Sherry, please-!"

Claire starts to get up from the bed, but I push her away. I throw the door open, but it stops halfway with a loud thud, knocking Leon to the ground.

"What...?" he starts to say, holding his head.

I bolt around him, just missing his hand with my feet. I bolt for the hotel suite door, grabbing his car keys from the table next to the couch as I run by.

"Leon, get up!" Claire tells him. Then she calls: "Sherry!"

"Leave me alone!" I scream, slamming the door behind me.

I can see the car from here; it's only across the little parking lot. I don't even notice that I'm barefoot until I skid to a halt in front of the car and the asphalt scratches against my skin, an unforgiving reminder that I don't have my shoes on. I fumble with the keys until I get the right one to open the door.

I tumble into the front seat, my eyes burning mercilessly. I can't help the sobs that start to come.

I slam the car door and lock it, and it suddenly hits me.

What am I doing here? I don't know how to drive, and even if I did, where the heck would I go?

I pound my fist against the steering wheel, causing the horn to blow. It's a short wail that's never sounded so lonely as it does right now. Without even thinking about what's happening, I cross my arms over the wheel and start to cry.

5 - Just Let It Out

"Sherry..."

Leon's voice comes to me through the closed window of the car, where I'm sitting in my nightgown. I look up, out the driver's side window, where he's leaning expectantly against the door. He's put some pants on, but other than that, he looks like he just rolled out of bed, which I guess he has. Claire's there, too, standing behind him, looking sheepish.

"Come on, Sherry," Leon says coaxingly. "Come back inside and we can talk."

I turn to the dull black steering wheel again. "I'm fine out here."

Leon sighs impatiently. "Don't be ridiculous. Now come on; it's cold out here, and I don't have any shoes on."

I cross my arms in front of my chest and sneer at him. "That's not my problem, now, is it?"

Leon wipes a hand over his face. Then he leans in close to the window and stares at me, muttering through clenched teeth. "Listen, young lady, I've had enough of this nonsense this morning. You've got two choices. You can either get out of that car and walk on your own two feet back to the hotel room, or so help me God, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you back inside."

Claire steps forward now, and she puts a hand on Leon's arm. "Leon, really," she says softly, glancing around the parking lot. "Just cool down a little, huh?"

Leon shoots her an angry glance and snarls, "Back off, Claire."

"Yeah, back off," I echo, and I instantly regret saying that.

Both of them stare at me slack-jawed, and Claire even looks a little hurt. But it's Leon who's got my attention now.

"All right, that does it," he mutters. He hits something on the door of the car, and it unlocks, and before I know what's happening, he's flung the car door open and snatched the keys from the steering column. I've never seen him move so fast before, and he's never been this angry at me.

I can't help but feel a little guilty for causing all of this, but neither one of them has any right to tell me what to do. I can feel those angry, frustrated tears start to well up again, so I don't look at either Claire or Leon. All I can do is stare at the pavement, and at my own feet dangling from inside the car.

"Out," Leon says brusquely. "Now."

What am I going to do? Run for it? I slide out of the car and yank my nightgown back into place as it rides up from sticking to the seat for so long. I trudge forward, and, behind me, I can hear the car door close, and Claire talking in a low tone.

"Leon, I think you should know something before you -"

"Not now, Claire, please." Leon murmurs.

He overtakes me at the door to the hotel suite and opens it wide. "Go on," he says quietly.

When the three of us are back inside, Leon closes the door and points me toward the sofa. "Sit down, and don't move. I'll be right back." Then he turns and walks down the little hall to the bathroom.

I don't know what to say, so I sit gingerly on the edge of the cushion and hold my hands in my lap. I glance up at Claire, and she's looking back at me. She offers me a tiny smile. She might have sat next to me, or hugged me and told me it would be all right, like she did in Raccoon, if only I hadn't opened my big mouth before. Now I guess even she doesn't want to be with me.

Claire glances down toward the bathroom, then holds up a hand. "You wait here," she says softly. "I'll just be a second."

She pads down the hall, and I lean forward a little, to hear what's going on. There's the sound of water running in the bathroom sink. And then, above that, I can hear them talking:

"Leon," Claire says, "would you please calm down?"

"Are you trying to tell me I'm not the picture of restraint?"

She shushes him. "Look, just...don't be too hard on her, okay? She's going through a delicate phase."

"Claire, I don't understand why you're making excuses. You're the one she seems to have something against."

"Just go easy on her. All right?"

"Fine," Leon says quietly.

They start walking back toward me, so I scoot up toward the back of the sofa.

Leon sits down on the table in front of me. His hair is wet and pushed back a little, and there are a few drops of water on his chest. I stare at them, mostly because I can't look him in the face.

Claire sits on the sofa, not quite next to me since she seems so far away, but she is there. Suddenly, I'm sorry for saying all of those awful things to her. I want her to be with me, holding my hand, making everything seem not so horrible. At least if I had Claire on my side, Leon might not be so upset.

"Sherry."

I look up at Leon, and, surprisingly, he seems a lot calmer than he did a few minutes ago.

"What's going on?" Leon asks plainly, his voice quiet but sounding a little strained.

I shrug. "I don't know."

"Sherry-!" Leon's voice goes up in pitch and volume, but he's cut off by Claire.

"Leon..." Her voice is so strong, and so admonishing. Immediately, he backs down again.

Leon shakes his head, as if clearing away some of his frustration. "I think you do know," he says finally. "And I want you to tell me."

"Are we going to play good cop/bad cop?" I ask quietly.

Leon exhales quickly and slaps his hands on his thighs. "You want to be treated like an adult? Fine; that makes my job easier." Then he leans in toward me and says, harshly: "What the hell is the matter with you?!"

"Leon," Claire says again.

"No!" Leon snaps at her, jumping up from his seat. I watch them go back and forth like this is a tennis match. "Claire, you should be as upset as I am."

Claire shakes her head. "If you would just give her a chance to explain -"

"Explain what? Her mood swings? She's done nothing but ignore you or treat you like shit since you got here!"

Claire stands up suddenly, too, matching him. "Leon! Just - shut - up."

They stare at each other for a long minute, neither one of them saying a word. Leon's breathing hard through his nose, like a bull on the rampage. But Claire just looks at him calmly. Her eyes never turn to me, but she starts to talk.

"Sherry," she says slowly, "we're both going to sit down, and then we're going to listen to what you have to say. Okay?" When I don't respond, Claire turns to look at me, and she gives me a very small, very gentle smile. "Okay, sweetie?"

I nod at her silently.

She turns back to Leon, and he holds up his hands in surrender. "All right, fine," he says, and sits down again.

Claire sits down on the sofa again, and this time she reaches in to take my hand. When I look into her gaze, it's soft and understanding. "Now, Sherry," she says soothingly. "Don't be scared. Just tell Leon what you told me. It'll be all right."

"I..." I start, looking down at my hand in Claire's. Then I look back at Leon. He's expectant; I can tell that he's trying hard to hide a lot of his frustration, but it doesn't help much. "I don't think I can do this," I mutter to Claire.

Now, Leon reaches over to put his hand over mine and Claire's. "Look, Sherry, I'm sorry I got so upset. It's just...it's a little hard to keep an even keel when the first thing you have to eat in the morning is a door." He lets go a long, low breath. "We're friends. I'd never do anything to hurt you; you know that."

"Me neither," Claire says softly. "I didn't run through Raccoon for nothing, you know."

"See?" Leon asks with a cautious smile. "We want to help you. But you have to tell us what's going on before we can do anything."

I stare at our hands, locked loosely together in my lap. How did I get myself into this? I never should have come from California; I should have just stayed with Aunt Kate. I could be sitting in the living room watching cartoons and eating Cocoa Puffs, instead of here in this mess I've made. All I wanted was to be with Leon; all I wanted was to spend some time with him. All I wanted was for him to know the way that I feel.

"Sherry?" Leon asks again.

"I'm in love with you!" I blurt loudly, then cover my mouth with my hands.

Leon sits there and blinks at me. Once. Twice. Three times. Then he says, very slowly, "What?"

It takes almost all of my willpower to pull my hands away from my face. "I said, I'm..." My voice drops to a tiny whisper. "...in love with you."

From the sudden look on Leon's face, I wish I could just shrink into the couch.

He hangs his head, slowly. "Ohh," he groans, holding his head with his hand. "Don't do this to me."

I want to say more, but I find that I can't. I don't know what's made everything so difficult. Maybe it's being the center of attention like this. Maybe it's having Claire sitting here right next to me. Maybe it's Leon's silence.

When he looks at me again, his face is confused, and apologetic. He takes a long time to form his next sentence, like he's searching for the right words. "Sherry, do you know what you just said?"

"Yes," I tell him. I try to sound confident, but I don't think it works. My voice squeaks somewhere in the middle of that little word, and despite all of my posturing, I feel like I'm five years old.

Leon shakes his head. "But do you know what that means?"

"It means...caring about somebody. And, and wanting them to be happy." I start to count the processes off on my fingers, as if that would add validity to my argument. "Respecting them, making sure they're safe, providing for them. All that stuff."

Leon folds his hands and rests his chin on them. He speaks very softly and slowly. "You're right, love is about all of those things. But there's a big difference between feeling love for someone, and actually being in love with that person." He starts to nod at me. "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

I shake my head.

"No," Leon murmurs, mostly to himself. "Of course not. I don't even know what I'm talking about." He puts his hands on his knees and drums his fingers nervously. "Okay!" He looks up at Claire desperately. "Help me out here, Claire; I'm sinking."

Claire chuckles and brushes a hand through my hair. "What I think Leon's trying to say is that...what you're feeling can be really strange, and it's not always easy to understand. There's no magical time when - poof! - it all suddenly makes sense. It's full of a lot of ups and downs, and sometimes we want something so badly that we don't see the whole picture too clearly."

I squint at her and mutter, "I still don't get it."

Leon pats me on the hand, and I turn to him. "Sherry," he begins, then breaks out into a grin. "I'm flattered; I really am! I think you're a fantastic girl. You're smart, you're talented, you're pretty." He puts a hand against my cheek, kind of like Aunt Kate does sometimes. "And you've been through a hell of a lot for somebody your age."

I sit back, fighting back my threatening tears. "You said age doesn't matter," I tell him, trying to keep my voice steady. "Is that what's bothering you? How old I am?"

Leon sighs, and I know from the way that he leans forward what his answer's going to be. He doesn't have to say it, but he does anyway. "I know it sounds...lame. But it does make a difference."

"What about Claire?" I counter, trying to regain ground. "She's younger than you are, too."

"That's different." Leon says quickly, offering the age-old excuse for not wanting to explain things.

I stick my chin out. "How? How is that different?"

Leon rolls his eyes, as if I should be able to read his mind. "Okay, let's just forget about the whole legal age of consent thing for the moment." He opens his hands, in some attempt to be non-threatening, I guess. "There are...certain things that I'm looking for in a relationship that I just wouldn't ask of someone your age."

Oh, so that's it. "You're talking about sex, aren't you?" I ask dryly.

"No," Leon answers adamantly. Then he pauses, and his expression softens. "Well, yes. But there's more to it than that."

I can feel my heart beating faster. It's getting so loud than I can barely hear myself think, or speak. "So, Claire's better than I am, is that what you're saying?" I manage to get out through trembling lips.

Leon's voice is very steady, and his eyes don't waver; they barely even blink. "You're Sherry," he says with quiet conviction. "Claire is Claire. This isn't a contest for my affection."

"But you like her better than me," I mumble. The tears have started, slowly, and I start to wipe them away with the back of my hand.

"I never said that," Leon says insistently. "You're right that I have very strong feelings for Claire. I care about her very much." He reaches up and wipes a missed tear from my chin. "But that doesn't mean that I don't care about you, too. This isn't an all-or-nothing situation, Sherry. I don't know how else to explain it to you."

I just sit there, staring at my feet and fighting back my sobs. I can't look at him; there's something about his voice that's so desperate, it hurts just thinking about it. Dimly, I'm aware of Claire alternately stroking my hair and rubbing my shoulder.

Very softly, I hear Leon's voice: "Please don't be sad."

There's silence for what feels like a long time; maybe it's only a few seconds, but the knot in my throat makes it seem like several minutes. No one moves; I can't find the strength, and I think Leon and Claire are both too shocked or too depressed or just too much at a loss to do anything.

Finally, Leon mutters, "I think I need some coffee." He gets up and there's some fidgeting sounds. I can hear his jacket zipper fizzle as he zips it up, and then the door opens with a slight creak. "You gonna be okay?"

"I think so," Claire tells him.

"Sherry?" Leon asks again, gently.

I nod quickly, stifling a sob, but I can't help that a little bit of it comes out.

"I'll be back in a bit," he says softly, and then the door closes with a click.

I sit there silently for a moment, until Claire asks, "Are you okay?" and I can't hold it in anymore. I grab her arms and bury my head against her warm, comforting chest, sobbing and weeping against her.

"It huh-huh-hurts!" I cry, tasting the salt of my tears and snot in the back of my throat.

"I know," Claire says soothingly, rocking me back and forth slowly. "I know. Just let it out, sweetie." She strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head.

"I'm suh-suh-sorry, Claire!" I sob, still clutching her.

"That's okay, kiddo," she tells me quietly. "It's all part of being in love."

EPILOGUE

The plane thrums beneath me, with droning, drowsy vibrations.

"Fasten your seatbelt, honey," the uniformed lady in the aisle murmurs to me. "We're getting ready to take off." She smiles and I smile back, mechanically.

I pull the leather strap tight across my lap and look out the window next to me. I can see the large panel windows of the airline gate, but they're smoked, so I can't see inside. Still, I can feel that he's there, watching me.

While it still hurts to think about Leon - my beautiful, wonderful Leon - I can't help myself. There will always be something about him, something mysterious and charming, that will always bring me back to him. Everyone said that my feelings are just a phase, and even though I don't want to think that, it might be easiest if that were true.

I don't want to feel pain whenever I think of him, of his blue eyes or his auburn hair or his goofy laugh. I want him to stay perfect, in my mind.

Claire said it would get better if I went home and got back into a routine. School's starting again in three weeks, and maybe I'll meet someone there. No one like Leon, of course, but maybe that's what Claire meant all along. Maybe he's just not for me. Maybe he's for somebody else.

When we said goodbye at the gate, I thought I was going to cry.

"Take care of yourself," Leon said, as he gave me a hug. He felt so strong, with his arms around me. He was quiet, too, more quiet than he usually was. I couldn't help but think it was because of me.

Claire hugged me, too. "Have a safe trip, sweetie." Then she gave me a little gift bag and smiled. "Promise me you won't open this until you're in the air."

I nodded, numbly. "Okay."

The man at the jetway doors made another one of his boarding announcements then, and I heard my row number.

I started for the jetway. For a minute, I was standing in line, behind a girl and her boyfriend or husband, they could have been either. Then, I looked back at Leon and Claire, who were waving gently.

I ran back to them, my backpack bouncing against my shoulders. I held onto Leon tightly, and felt the tears catch in the back of my throat, like something sour. "I'll miss you, Leon," I sniffled, like some little kid. I hadn't wanted to say goodbye like that; I had wanted to be strong. So much for those plans.

Leon breathed deep, and muttered: "I'll miss you, too." Then, he touched my arm, and pushed me away. He looked down at me, a little sad, but firm. "You've got a plane to catch."

And that was all.

I got on the plane, with no more goodbyes, and now I sit here and stare out the window, hoping to see him. He doesn't come, but I know he's there.

The plane lurches away from the gate, moving backward, and I press my face close to the window, so I can watch the gate for as long as possible. He doesn't shoot out the window and jump to the tarmac to chase after me. He doesn't stop the plane and run down the aisle to scoop me up in his arms. He doesn't even have the captain come on over the loudspeaker and make some announcement about me for him.

I guess I've been reading too many romance novels and watching too many sappy movies lately. Still, it's funny to think of Leon doing any of that stuff, and it feels good to smile about him.

As the plane taxis down the runway, pushing me back into the seat like on a roller coaster ride, I look at the seat pocket in front of me. That's where I put Claire's little bag of stuff. The plane ascends at a steep angle, and we're away, back to California.

I reach for the little bag and rummage through the tissue paper. There's a Hershey bar in there, and a sandwich bag filled with oatmeal cookies. There's also a little note, written on plain stationery in a simple hand.

I put the bag down in my lap and open the note.

Dear Sherry, it says in Claire's even script.

Sometimes, things don't work out the way that we want them to. And I'm sorry for that. But you shouldn't be sorry, about anything.

Life tends to get more difficult the more you see of it, but always remember that you have friends. And always remember who you are. You're Sherry Birkin, and no one can take that away from you.

I care about you very much, and so does your aunt Kate. And Leon does, too.

I'll miss you, Sherry. Stay well.

With love,
Claire

I put the note down and smile.

I look out the window, and there are only clouds out there, but even they're comforting, somehow. I can't believe that I thought Claire was against me. Through everything, she protected me. I wasn't exactly nice to her, but she still looked out for me.

I start to put the note away when I notice there's something else in the bag, buried near the bottom. Shoving aside the rest of the tissue paper, I reach down and pull out a little stuffed animal. It's a fluffy lion, only as big as my fist, with a toothy, lopsided grin and a big, red mane. There's a little card attached to one of his front paws. Printed there, it says:

Just don't pull his head off, okay? Love, Leon.

I clutch the tiny toy to my chest, and I start to cry. But for the first time in days, this cry feels good.

I sit back in my seat and watch the clouds float by my window. I don't need to get away fast; I don't need to get home fast, either. It's nice just to sit here and think about the man whose smile made me feel loved.