If I had a nickel for every time I've left the Tanner household in a fit of anger, I'd be able to buy it off of them, it seems.

My feet walk fast down the street, my hands running repeatedly through my hair as egg dries it into a sticky, hardened mat. I don't bother doing anything about my clothing, just using my sleeve to wipe my face free of batter as I walk. I'm not really sure where I'm headed until I'm on a small, boutique-lined corner that I've never been on before. I pass by a bakery, and I head inside, the little bell on the door signalling my arrival to the lady behind the counter. She's short, and has a round face with a sweet smile, which she flashes at me as I approach her.

"Hello," she says, eyeing my appearance and somehow managing to keep a plastic smile on her face, "welcome to Cara's Confections. What can I do you for?"

I look into the glass cases at the different cakes, all of them extremely detailed and quite frankly beautiful. The tops are blank, and I look back up at her.

"Do you take requests?"

I wait outside to kill the ten minutes I've got while she decorates the cake I chose, and I take out a crumpled cigarette while trying to ignore the pit in my stomach. I fish around until I find an even more crumpled sleeve of matches in my jean pocket, and I light the stick with difficulty.

I don't want to go back, but I know that I have to. I have to make things right, and if I can't do it with my words because my pride won't let me, then I'll have to fix things with actions. I wonder if this will be Jesse's last straw; I wonder if he'll have my stuff waiting for me on the porch with a note saying 'nice knowing ya.' I wouldn't blame him. I ruined everything. Just like I always do.

I don't even feel angry anymore, not at DJ, not at Jesse, not even at my mom. I feel angry with myself, but mostly I feel empty. I feel calm, like being here on this random street by myself was what the universe had planned for me all along. I can't hurt anyone when I'm on my own. I can't ruin things with my temper or my selfishness. I'll drop the cake off and then maybe I'll find another street to settle on; I can fend for myself. It would be better for everyone if I just left, anyway.

After ten minutes, and after the cigarette is merely a butt that I crush with my heel, I head back into the store. The lady is writing something down, but she looks up when I approach the counter and smiles warmly at me.

"Would you like a pink box or a yellow one?" she asks me kindly, and I laugh to myself.

"Definitely a pink one," I say, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Great," she says, turning and putting my cake in a box before approaching the till. "That will be $10.25."

Jeez. Tough city. I fish out the crumpled cash I got from my first paycheck, and count it up, relieved to see I have just enough, with even five cents to spare. I shove it all on the counter, not really feeling bad that I'm spending it all. It's about time I paid for something myself. She smiles warmly at me and counts it all up before handing me the cake and wishing me a good day. I mumble something that I hope is coherent back, turning and leaving the store and forcing myself to angle my feet back towards the house.

*

I stop at the back door of the house, taking a deep breath before opening it and stepping inside. DJ, Joey, and Jesse are in the middle of cleaning up, but they look up when I enter. I stand in the doorway, not really sure what to do or say as I stare at Jesse. Slowly, he stands, tossing a batter-covered streamer into a bin and approaching me.

"What's this?" he asks, and I let him take the box from my arms, opening it and staring down into its contents. I still say nothing, and his expression changes, softens ever so slightly. I'm worried that if I open my big mouth, I'll ruin it and he'll snap again. I look down at my shoes, finding interest in the smudges on the tops of my sneakers until I look back up and see him staring at me.

"How did you pay for this?" he asks, and I try to ignore the tone of suspicion.

"Robbed her at gunpoint," I answer, and he looks at me knowingly.

"How much of your paycheck did this cost?"

I shrug. "All of it."

DJ and Joey are standing now, and Jesse turns to them.

"Can you guys go finish decorating the living room?" he asks. "Alex and I will finish up in here."

They both leave, and he places the cake on the table.

"You wanna tell me what really happened?" Jesse asks, and I shrug again.

"DJ told you. I ruined it."

He stares at me, shaking his head. "You're a nuisance sometimes, Alex, but you wouldn't mess Steph's cake up on purpose."

"How do you know?" I ask suddenly.

"Because." He shrugs. "You're my kid. I know you. You wouldn't do that."

"I'm nothing like you." I shake my head, looking away. "DJ's right. I'm selfish, and I ruin things, and I don't belong here. I'm not anything like you, Jesse—"

"Woah — woah, DJ said all of that?" Jesse asks in sudden alarm, and I stop.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter." I turn away, but he grabs my arm, taking me over to the table and sitting me down. He pulls a chair across from me and sits in it himself, leaning forwards.

"It does matter, Alex. I'll talk to her, all right?"

"Don't." I shake my head. "I don't need you to fight my battles. I don't care what she thinks."

He leans back, eyeing me with the same look he always gets; like he can see right through everything. "Yes, you do. So, what? She said all these things and you threw the first punch — or the first egg?"

I shrug. "Technically she spilled icing all over me first, but it was an accident, I think."

It's quiet for a second, and he's still staring at me, so I sigh.

"I did ruin the icing," I say, "but not on purpose. I — I don't — I —"

I sigh, closing my eyes and starting over. "I never baked with my mom. Or cooked, or did anything like that. I wasn't . . . I couldn't . . ."

"You couldn't read the measurements," he finishes in realization, and I finally look at him.

"I was too stubborn to ask DJ for help, so I just sort of threw everything into the bowl," I mutter pathetically. "And it was shit, of course, and DJ blew up, and I got defensive." I sigh. "I just — I don't know how to do any of this, you know? All the stuff that a mom usually does with their daughter is lost on me. I'm not saying we never did anything together, because we did. We had R-rated movie night every Friday, and we played a lot of poker, but I'm starting to realize that those aren't exactly regular mother-daughter activities."

"Yeah, not exactly," he says with the same slightly bitter tone he gets whenever I mention my mom.

"And I like it here, I do," I go on, "but it's overwhelming, all of this normal stuff. And I'm trying."

"I know you are," he says reassuringly, leaning back forward. "Alex, you're not ruining things. If anything, you're just bringing a little bit of perspective on how lucky these girls are to have such a loving family. I don't think DJ really gets that; she doesn't know about how you lived before, and unless you tell her, she's not going to change her attitude about you staying here."

"Well it's not my job to give her a little pep talk on my sorry past," I argue. "You know I won't do that."

He sighs, but nods. "I know. You don't like anyone feeling sorry for you. I'm the same way." He puts a hand on my knee. "Alex, DJ's wrong. You're exactly like me; you're too much like me, she just can't see it because she's too stubborn to. She's like us that way, too. We're a family, and family's are gonna have problems; what matters is that at the end of the day, we're all here for each other when we need it. You've proven that you're willing to stick your neck out for Deej, even when she's just sold you out, and you've proven that you're willing to fix what you've messed up to make sure Steph has a good birthday. You're part of this family, and maybe I'm the only one who can see how hard you're trying, but the others will come around. And I do see it, Alex, all right? You're not unwelcome; no matter what happens, you're staying here with me. I'm never gonna turn my back on you, all right? That's not what family does."

I stare at him, and I can't help the tear that escapes my eye. I wipe at them furiously, staring back down at my feet. I feel like a huge load has been lifted off my shoulders; everything I've been worried about, he's covered. He doesn't think I'm selfish, he thinks I'm too much like him. I can handle too much, especially after thinking I haven't been enough this entire time.

And he'll never turn his back on me, no matter what. No matter how hard I screw up, he will always be here when I need him.

He pulls me up and into a hug, and I bury my face in his chest, letting go of my pride for just a second.

I can't help but feel like I don't deserve any of this. I can't help but think of my mom, and how she left me, and how she's out there somewhere. I wonder where she thinks I am. Despite everything, there's still a feeling of guilt sitting in my chest; the fact that I'm here, with my father, feels like I'm betraying her. I should be out there looking for her. She might be in danger. She could be dead in a ditch somewhere.

I don't deserve this family. I don't belong here. Despite everything that Jesse has just told me, I still can't help but feel like I'm not truly a part of this place. Maybe he thinks I am, but I know no one else here does.

My tears are dry by the time I pull away from Jesse, and he grabs a nearby soap-filled bucket and hands it to me.

"Come on," he says, nodding to the floor, which is still covered in batter and whatnot, "let's clean up your mess."

I take the sponge out of the bucket, and he drops it on the floor, turning around and grabbing a sponge of his own from atop the counter. He's keeping his back to me for a moment, and I know it's because he's giving me a moment to wipe my tears; he knows I probably don't like to be seen crying. I bet he's the same way.

"Jesse," I say, and he hums, turning back to face me. "Thank you."

He cocks his head to the side. "For what?"

"For taking a chance on me," I say, picking at the tablecloth. "I know I haven't been making it easy."

He shrugs with a small smile. "That's how I know you're my kid."

I grin, and he does too, and for now it's just enough to ease my nerves. He wants me here, and he'll never turn his back on me, even if the rest of his family doesn't feel the same way about my staying here. Even if they never come around. This is enough.