Jesse laid in a white T-Shirt and blue flannel boxers sleeplessly on his bed in the mid morning, the radio tripping over reports on the latest slobberknocker of a ball game, Yankees vs. Indians; Yankees walking all over the Indians. Bright sunlight crawled over the powder-puff clouds and into his room, a golden shin casted on his wooden floor. His head was full; nothing else could be crammed into it if he tried; the countless hours of dance practice, the new songs, the neverending schedual which was going to race back up again next week as ragged as ever. Even laying around in his own bed, the bed he grew up in, the cold sheets caressing his face like his mother's touch was next to impossible.

He heard a faint tap vibrate through his door, and then McKenzie creaked the door open, poking her head in carefully. Jesse glanced up at her and smiled.

"Your mom said you were in here," McKenzie told him awkwardly, her eyes skidding across the many wonders of his room, the posters, the sports memorbelia. She never went in his room much over the years; she let that be his personal, private domain.

"Yeah," Jesse replied, plopping his head back down on his orange pillow, his eyes locked on the slightly fascinating cracks in the ceiling. "I'm enjoying the last moments of my freedom."

"By laying it bed?" McKenzie asked jokingly, cupping her hands on her hips and walking over to him. She jumped onto his bed and toppled onto his bare legs. He yelped in pain; McKenzie just smiled. "Don't think so! We're going to Morton's today."

"We are, are we?" Jesse challenged, raising his eyebrows and placing his gentle hands behind his head for support.

"Yes and I'm making our favorties for lunch," McKenzie informed him, rising from the bed and heading for the door. She eyed the green basket of fresh laundry waiting patiently to be put away. She bent down and grasped a maroon polo shirt and tan khakis and launched them onto his bed. "Get dressed, you're naked."

"Yeah, yeah," Jesse rolled his eyes playfully as McKenzie exited.

At 12, Jesse and McKenzie rode their ATVs to Morton's Hill, spring surrounding them pleasently. Pink petals of tree-bound blossoms fluttered about them like delicate butterflies. Scents only the rebirth of flowers and people's spirits could produce flowed over their noses like the wind. The normally bumpy road was sand under the tough tires of the ATVs, zooming down the street carefree. Their smiles were brighter than the golden sun casting down on them; leading them down the street to Morton's hill.

Jesse helped McKenzie climb the steep slope of the green hill, an always strenuous climb for McKenzie, even when she was younger. A few apple and oak trees stood grandly at the top with thick trunks, enscribe with the slight tourture of young lovers, their branches playing rythmically with the kindly wind. The memory of when McKenzie, Jesse and Lea used to play kickball in the street when Lea would always magically win popped up in conversation, making the day that much more enjoyable.

"It hasn't changed," McKenzie stated with a relieved sigh as their truckening to the top was completed, shaking her head with a smile as Jesse layed out the blanket, twirling a few time to completely view the magnitude of her favorite childhood memory.

"Not every thing changes," Jesse told her, coldness slenderly icing his melodious voice, their minds grasping reality as their eyes speared together, neither of them attempting to continue conversation. McKenzie didn't know how to respond to that statement, so she threw herself to the wickered basket and began to pull out the delicacies it held.

Jesse knew what to say when his eyes crawled onto the sandwiches laying next to the Iced Tea. "Hey!" he shouted, his fingers greedily snatching a peanut butter and chocolate syrup sandwich. "My favorite."

"It's nice to go back in time once in a while," McKenzie admitted clumsily, unwrapping the cellofane off the delicious treat with unavoidable crinkling shooting through the thick silence. McKenzie glanced over at Jesse. Jesse laid back on his elbows, his attention focused on a baseball game in progress down the hill. McKenzie's confession had altered her family's life and sometimes she regretted coming out. Jesse sat like that for endless minutes before McKenzie said something. "What's changed, Jesse?" McKenzie blurted, grabbing her plastic cup full of Iced Tea in her hand.

"A lot, odviously," Jesse stated, taking another bite of his sandwich and chewing it with the pace of a sloth.

"Change isn't always bad, is it?" McKenzie asked unsure, leaning on the palm of her hand in anticipation for Jesse's answer. 'Tell me the truth,' she silently pleaded.

Jesse deliberated for a moment, then looked up into his cousin's imploring eyes. "No," Jesse replied, a small smile slipping on his face. "It's not always bad."

A heavy slab of relief levatated off her heart as she turned to watch the game as well. Jesse's nose twitch; a sign that he was thinking intensely about something. "I just don't..." Jesse started, staring into the endless blue, not able to find the words to say, "I can't understand how 2 guys or girls can...you know..."

"Well," McKenzie responded, bringing her hand to brush her chin, trying to think of an acceptable, logical analogy to present to him. She turned to her left and sat indian-style, clasping her hands in front of her. "You love the guys in Dream Street, right?"

"Ye...Yes," Jesse studdered, unsure of what she was getting at.

"It's that same love," she continued, weaving her finger and eyes over the flower-print sheet, "But it's...more intense, more romantic, you notice the 'sparks fly.' It can happen at first sight like other people or it can happen after a long, long time. I mean, every one deserves to be loved and there's not one certain way to love. And I, I know I'm young and doing what I'm doing may be destroying the little family I have..." Her voice drifted off with the wind as she rubbed her knee and gazed above Jesse's shoulder to the swaying trees in the distance as if the trees were giving her creditable advice. "But if they can't accept me and my beliefs and feelings, they don't deserve my love."

Jesse really admired her strenght in her "twisted" morals and one could tell by his proud smile forcing its way on his face. "When did you grow up?" Jesse asked her honestly, sipping at his drink. She just smiled; the answer being clear to both of them.

~*Later that Night*~

Diane watched her daughter for a few moments at the doorframe of Lea's room, McKenzie working studiously on her English essay, her hands beginning to cramp up and tie into tight, tangled knots. Diane coughed lightly, chain-reacting McKenzie to swirl on the bed, her eyes peering curiously at her mother. "Got a minute?" Diane asked, stepping into the room.

"Got a whole lifetime," McKenzie sarcastically replied, clincing her hand on the borders of her white binder and drawing her attention back to her essay.

Ignoring her daughter's bitter comment, Diane wrapped her hands around her chest and continued. "Jesse's leaving next Wednesday for a short tour on the East Coast. I suggested you should join him and miss a little of school."

Sensing alterior motives winding in this plan, McKenzie tossed her pen onto the carpet. "That sounds great, Mom," McKenzie admitted, swinging her sloutch sock-bound feet to the floor, curiosity glancing up at Diane, "but why miss school?"

"I know it's been hard on both of us moving back. I think you'd have fun hanging with Jesse and the guys and Louie has already agreed to it," Diane jabbered on, leaning her back against the wall.

"Is that it?" McKenzie eyed her, raising her eyebrows in suspicion.

"If you want the truth I do wish you'd think about what you told me the other day," Diane admitted, whipping at the sweat seeping through her browline.

McKenzie couldn't believe it; her mother think she can change her. You can't change how you feel, if she could write that down in plain black and white, she would; but she couldn't, not to her intolerant mother.

"I will go, but not to think about what I told you," McKenzie exasperated, rising from the bed as composed as possible and whizzing past her mother to the bathroom, her mouth tided in a downcasting grimace. Diane sighed, wishing desperately that she knew what to do.