Hey, guys! I'm sorry if this pisses you off, but this chapter is all going to be in Clara's P.O.V because it's a really big day for her, okay? This won't happen again for the rest of the book, so just bare with me!!!! I love you, lucky charms!

XOXO, Hannah

"John?" I ask when I open the door to find the man standing there. It's been three weeks and I haven't contacted him--doesn't he get the hint? I don't want to know.

"Clara, you can't just run away from this--it's important. You know that," John tells me.

"Bullshit," I scoff. "You wouldn't even have known I existed if we hadn't both been at Anne and Robin's house."

"Exactly," John emphasizes. "Doesn't that peak your interest at all? We met completely by chance, Clara. Maybe it was an accident that was supposed to happen."

"Don't get all cheesey on me now--this isn't some imaginary world. There's no such thing as fate," I spit.

"Maybe not. I never said there was. I'm just saying that it's possible that we met for a reason," John says.

"Well, I'm saying that I disagree," I snap. "You need to leave."

"No. We need to talk, Clara. I'm your father," John says, jamming his foot in the door as I try to swing it shut. Dammit.

"What do you want from me?" I ask, my tough façade wavering.

"I just want to talk to you. I want to understand what's going on here. Don't pretend that you don't, too," my "father" raises his eyebrows. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and remove my hand from the door. He lets himself in and closes the door behin him. "Where's Harry?" John asks me.

"It's none of your business," I snap, wiping a stray tear from my cheek.

"Come on, Clara. Don't do that. I'm not trying to hurt you in any way," John says. I believe him. I'm just not ready to face this yet. "Clara, if you don't face this now, it'll haunt you for the rest of your life." It's like he read my mind.

"He went to an interview," I whisper.

"Oh. Okay," John shifts uncomforably.

"You can...sit down...I guess," I gesture towards the sofa and he follows my order. I sit in a chair opposite him and take a deep breath.

"So..." John starts. I resist the urge to slap him. I don't want to do this. I never did. I look away. "Clara, why don't you want to confront this?"

"Because I want to move on from my past. I don't want to spend the rest of my future looking over my shoulder," I tell him.

"You don't have to, Clara. If you don't want to see me again after today, I'll keep my distance. You have my word," John promises. I nod, still not meeting his gaze. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, preparing myself for the information I'm about to be told.

"I'll start from the beginning. I met your mother in ninth grade because we went to the same highschool. I was one of the popular kids, I guess you could say. Your mother had a great group of friends. They weren't nerds, but they weren't popular. And everyone loved them because they didn't care what everyone else thought. I admired that about her. We started dating in the middle of our freshman year and we kept at it for the other four years. But then she started acting distant and weird and eventually she broke up with me. She claimed that she wasn't happy with her life in Arizona because of her mum. They didn't get along well. So I let her go and she moved away. She never answered my calls or emails or letters, so eventually I stopped trying. I haven't spoken to your mom since then," John explains his life story in a matter of seconds. I guess I understand now...

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