Dawn Summers is always getting herself into trouble. Before she could walk or talk, our mom jokingly called her ‘Dawn the Menace’ because she was constantly tugging on table skirts or pulling someone’s hair. As she got older, she always messed up my things, breaking or ruining them. I would scream at her; she would cry, and I would usually be the one to get in trouble for being mean to my little sister.
When Dawn was six, she wandered off in the supermarket, and my mom had security running around looking for her. When we finally found her hiding under a display table, it was my fault, because I was supposed to be holding her hand. At the age of twelve, Dawn regularly read my diary and told my mom when I lost my virginity. Mom had to literally hold me back from killing her for that. At fifteen, Dawn sneaked out of the house on Halloween and was brought home by neighborhood security for egging some poor old man’s house to impress some older guys.
Needless to say, not much Dawn does surprises me anymore. Or so I thought.
Sunday morning Dawn calls asking me to meet her for breakfast. Even though I have graduation in the afternoon, and I’m still in a bad mood from my fight with Spike the night before, I agree, because I feel bad for walking out on her. Something in her voice tells me she really needs to talk, and I’m a little nervous to find out what sort of trouble she’s gotten herself into now.
After we’re seated at our favorite café, the first words out of her mouth are, “I think I did something really wrong last night.”
I don’t have much of a reaction, because I was expecting her to be dramatic. “What happened?”
She looks really nervous, fidgeting in her seat and wringing her hands. “Okay, before I tell you, you have to promise you won’t hate me for it.”
“Dawn, I could never hate you,” I assure her. Inwardly, I’m wondering what she could have done to cause such panic.
“Because I so didn’t mean for anything bad to happen. N-not that anything bad has happened. But it might. S-so that’s why I’m telling you.”
“Telling me what?” I reach across the table to still her hands. “Spit it out, Dawn. You’re starting to scare me.”
“Last night, after you left, I stayed at the bar. I just wanted to see how Spike would act with his date.”
“Client.”
“Right, whatever. But he didn’t stay very long, and I swear I was just gonna finish my drink and go home.”
“But?”
Dawn takes a deep breath. “But before I can leave, someone’s behind me, asking if he can buy me another drink. I swear I was gonna say no!”
“Dawn!” I don’t have the slightest idea where she’s going with this, and I’m getting more annoyed with every passing minute she drags the story out.
“It was Spike’s son, Angel.”
She looks so guilty right now, I almost laugh. “So you had a drink with Angel? It’s really not a big deal, Dawnie. It’s not like you’re dating him or anything, because that would be a little weird. You’re not dating him are you?” She shakes her head, her gaze firmly locked on something in her lap. “Then what harm could one drink do?”
“A lot,” she whispers, so low I almost don’t hear her.
I can’t take the suspense any longer. “Dawn, what did you do?” I ask, angrily.
“I told you how just about every girl in my school has this huge crush on him right? Well, I couldn’t believe he wanted to hang out with me, so of course I let him buy me a drink then another one and another one, until I was really drunk. Then he told me he knew all about you and Spike and how he couldn’t believe Spike would be on a date with another woman.
“But now that I think about it, I don’t know if Angel actually knew anything. He let me do all the talking, and I might have said a lot more than I should have.”
I can’t breathe. I must be dreaming because there is no way what I just heard really happened.
“Buffy, please say something,” Dawn pleads.
“How could you?” I finally ask, fuming. “How could you do that to me? I trusted you to keep our secret!”
“He tricked—“
“Don’t! Don’t even try to defend yourself. Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? How majorly you’ve fucked up Spike’s life?”
“So?” Dawn throws back, becoming angry herself. “I’ve had to listen to you cry over him for the past two years. Do you really think I care what happens to him?”
“You should. You can’t just go around ruining people’s lives because you don’t like them!”
“You’re right, I don’t like him. He’s a bad person, Buffy, and you’re better off without him. Just think about all the things he’s done to you! Do you really want to be with a person like that?”
I don’t answer, because she’s not entirely wrong. Spike has done bad things. I have cried over him. But this isn’t about him.
“You didn’t just betray Spike, you betrayed me. I’m your sister, and you’re supposed to have my back no matter what your opinion is.” I look at her sadly because nothing Spike has ever done to me has hurt this badly. “I’m sorry I thought you were grown up enough for me to confide in you.”
“Buffy—“
I stand up. Suddenly, I’m not feeling very hungry.
Dawn grabs my arm, halting my exit. “You promised you wouldn’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, Dawn, but I don’t like you very much right now, either.”
The day I graduated from high school was a beautiful, sunny day in Southern California. My mom and Dawn were in the audience watching, as I crossed the stage to receive my diploma. I could hear them cheering for me, louder than two people should have been able to. Afterward, I celebrated with my two best friends, Willow and Xander, and Willow’s boyfriend, Oz, at Sunnydale’s local hangout, the Bronze. We danced the night away, carefree, and ready to embark on the next stage of our lives.
The day I graduated from college was bittersweet. It was a little over two years since I lost my mom. Willow and I sat among the other graduates while Xander, his girlfriend, Anya, and Dawn cheered us on from the crowd of family and friends. I didn’t even bother inviting my absentee father. My real family was there, and that’s all that mattered.
The day that Dawn graduated from high school, Willow, Xander, Anya and I sat in the crowd amongst the other parents watching their children leave the protective world of childhood. Dawn invited our father to her graduation, but in typical fashion, he didn’t show. I knew Dawn was crushed, even though she put on a brave front. After the ceremony, we all went back to the house, which had already been sold. It was another bittersweet day, with happiness for Dawn’s success and tears for friends leaving.
On the day of my graduation from graduate school, I should be at the salon getting my hair and nails done. I should be putting on the pretty dress I bought especially for the occasion. I should be getting into a cab to meet Dawn at NYU. I should be searching the crowd for bright blond hair and dazzling blue eyes. I should be celebrating with Dawn over drinks and later on with Spike in my bed.
Instead, on the day of my graduation from graduate school I’m packing a bag to get the hell out of New York City.
I’m not leaving, because I’m mad at Dawn. I’m not leaving, because I feel like a fool for not trusting Spike. I’m not leaving, because there are a dozen reasons why I probably shouldn’t trust him.
I’m leaving, because it’s the right thing to do.
I take out my smallest suitcase, and start shoving only the essentials inside. I call Willow to make sure it’s okay for me to stay with her when I get back to Sunnydale. I haven’t spoken to Willow in a while, so her surprise is completely understandable. She doesn’t ask too many questions, just makes sure I’m all right and tells me to text her my flight information.
As cowardly as it is, I decide to wait until I’m back in California before telling Dawn or Spike. Speaking with either of them before I go will just make it so much harder for me to leave. Of course, as these thoughts go through my head, there’s a knock on my door. I pray that it’s someone, anyone besides them, which is a good chance because both of them have keys and usually don’t knock.
No such luck.
From the other side of the threshold, Spike thrusts a big, beautiful bouquet of flowers into my arms. Walking past me into the apartment, he plants a kiss on my lips and heads toward the kitchen. “Ready for your big day?” he asks. “I thought we could start the celebration a little early.” Only then do I notice the champagne and flute glasses in his hands.
His smile fades when he notices me staring blankly at him, my feet still firmly planted by the door. “Still mad about last night?”
Last night? Yeah, I probably should be mad at him for once again treating me like a child, but there are bigger issues at hand right now. I don’t want our last conversation to be an argument.
He puts down the bottle of champagne, looking across the apartment into my bedroom at the still open suitcase lying on my bed. Confused eyes look into mine, confirming whatever suspicions he has.
“Buffy, last night – it wasn’t what you thought! She was just a client. I didn’t even stick around very long after you left.”
“I know.” My voice is soft and calm, a distinct contradiction to the uneasiness I’m feeling inside.
“But you’re leaving?”
I nod.
“For how long?”
I drop my gaze to the floor. My lack of response is enough of an answer.
“If this isn’t about last night, then why?”
I cross the room to sit on the couch, placing the bouquet on the coffee table. A few seconds later, Spike joins me. I have no idea how I’m gonna tell him about Dawn and Angel. Even though I’m mad at her, she’s still my little sister, and my automatic instinct is to protect her.
“Angel knows about us.”
“What? How?”
“Last night he got my sister drunk and tricked her into telling him. He told her he knew everything, and after a few drinks she was feeling chatty.”
I brace myself for his anger, but it doesn’t come. He sits next to me, silent for a long minute, obviously thinking. I need a reaction. Is he mad at Dawn? At me? At Angel? Does he wish he never started this thing with me? Did I ruin his life? Did Dawn? Will Angel?
I hold my breath, willing him to say something, anything. I would prefer his rage to this eerie silence.
“Okay,” he finally says.
“Okay? Okay what?”
“I don’t know exactly. I just feel okay. Everything’s okay.”
“Have you gone crazy? Everything is definitely not okay!” I get up, pacing in front of the coffee table. “We’ve gotten careless. Going out to the Hamptons,” I start ticking away each point with a finger. “Outside my job, in the park. My God this ring just screams ‘Buffy has a sugar daddy’.”
“You’re righ—“
“Wanting to come to my graduation,” I continue. “You’ve gotten careless, Spike, and now Angel knows.”
“I would’ve thought this is what you’ve been wanting. Now, that Angel knows there’s really no reason for us to hide anymore.”
“But won’t he try to use this against you?”
“I’m sure he will.”
I stare at him incredulously. He’s sitting back against my couch, like we’re discussing the weather and not his life. “That’s exactly why I’m leaving. Without me around, his accusations are baseless.”
“Buffy, pet, that’s ridiculous. He could use this against me whether or not you’re here.”
“And you’re willing to take the chance that you’ll lose everything you’ve worked for over this?”
“Over you, well, yeah.”
I want to slap him. It’s like he’s a pod person, and someone has taken over his body. “I’m not going to be the reason you lose everything,” I tell him.
“Work isn’t everything.”
“Since when?” It’s taken him two years and me walking away for him to say all the things I’ve always wished he’d say.
He walks around the coffee table and takes me in his arms. “For a while now,” he tells me, looking down at me seriously.
This is exactly why I didn’t want to see him before I left. He’s the only person in this city with the power to get me to stay. “You say that now, but if you lose your place in the company you’ll regret it. Maybe, not today or tomorrow, but you will eventually. I don’t want you to look back ten years from now and hate me for being the reason you lost it all.”
“I could never hate you, baby.”
As hard as it is to do, I disentangle myself from his embrace. I need to be strong, resolved in my decision to go. He follows me into my room where I zip up the suitcase. I take one last look around. I can send for the rest of my things once I get settled in Sunnydale.
“Don’t do this.”
I can’t look at him, because I don’t want to see the pained look on his face.
“I have to.”
"No, you don’t.” He pulls me back into his arms, kissing me hard, trying to convey how much he needs me to stay.
I kiss him back, wanting to get lost in his kisses, but the thoughts that fueled my decision are a running mantra in my head. He’ll hate you, resent you.
I pull back, leaning my head against his chest, needing to smell his familiar scent. “I have to go now,” I say into his chest before exiting his embrace.
“Let me drive you at least,” he pleads, needing more time to convince me not to go.
I give him a sad smile, rolling my luggage toward the door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I can’t resist giving him one last kiss. It breaks my heart when I feel a lone tear slide between our faces, and I realize it’s his.
“I really do love you, Buffy,” he calls, as I walk out the door.
I know.