First Day (01)

I catch Soph's guilty look and I jump in before she has to with, "It's a senior party, Fee. I meant that all the seniors are going to be there. You'll get your chance in a couple of years." I give her an encouraging smile and hope she accepts it. I know she'd fight Soph on it, but Soph is her mom, so of course she would.

"Who organized this bowling thing?" your dad asks as he carries the platter of chicken past Fee to the table. "Why didn't they do it last Saturday night? Seems odd to have it on a Monday night - a school night."

"Daaad, it's a first day of school party. They couldn't do it on a Saturday because that's not the first day of school. Obviously. Gods." I toss the dressing onto the bowl of salad and bring it over to the table, setting it down with some force.

"It's a party and an early fundraiser," Soph explains as she brings the bread slices to the table in a basket. "We're going to go really wild with prom this year - a huge bash. And so, the prom committee is selling some baked goods and second-hand memorabilia to each other to get a head-start on things. The food trucks actually paid us to show up, Mr. P. And if nobody buys anything from them... well, it's going to wreck the future plans we have."

Your dad shrugs, "Well... Fee and I could come by and get something from the food trucks to help support the cause, then. I want you girls to have the most awesome prom."

Soph's a genius. She sets this whole fundraiser thing up and also is already prepping Dad for us to be gone a lot longer for prom. It's brilliant and I give her a quick wink when Dad's not looking.

But then Dad's offering to come to food trucks that don't exist to help out and the whole thing suddenly feels like we're getting in way too deep, way too fast.

"Dad. The food trucks aren't even arriving until one. That's A M. Zero-one-hundred hours or whatever. You're not going to be able to function tomorrow if you're up that late." I look at JS, raising my eyebrows a bit. "And neither will you."

I look back at Dad. "Come on, can't you just let us have this for us? You don't have to be involved in everything just to prove you're being a good single parent, okay?"

Finally, he relents. "Sure, Fee, that sounds great. I'd like to watch Platoon again. It's been a while."

Soph's eyes widen at the thought of her daughter having to watch that flick. But she keeps moving around to pour drinks for everyone.

"See? You guys will have a good time without us," I say quickly, before Soph can come up with some reason JS shouldn't watch the movie with Dad. I mean, sure it's full of language and violence and it's not a happy feel-good movie, but you know, she's in high school. She's basically living in a curse-filled warzone every day.

I take a seat and start dishing up my own plate.

Everyone fixes their plate and the four of you sit down to quietly eat together for a few minutes. It's a blessedly calm meal once the party details have settled. Fee talks about her classes excitedly and Soph asks a few questions with interest and Fee doesn't mention Skylar once. What do you do during the meal?

I try to not eat too much at dinner because of Knox's heads up about the amount of food and drink that'll be available at the party. I want to save room, but also know that I can't worry Dad too much. I fill up most of my plate with fluffy salad pieces that take of lots of room but aren't actually that filling and then do a lot of pushing bits of food around between sips of water. Hydrating is probably wise before going into the night at least.

I go back to playing nice with Dad again and ask about work and stuff. I even tell him I'd like to learn how to change the wiper blades on my car sometime, just for extra good feelings.

The wiper bit really gets him going. He explains what you need to do and then insists that you need to replace them before you go because it's supposed to rain tonight. He does wait until everyone's done eating and Soph and JS handle washing dishes before he drags you out to work on your car.

And yes, he already has replacement wipers in the garage.

I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I mentioned the windshield wipers. I meant for it to be a thing we could do sometime. You know, eventually. But before I really know what’s happening, I’m standing outside by my car in my fluffy white sundress holding a wiper blade in my hands.

"Dad, I’m not sure this is really necessary right this minute. I mean, it’s not like the wipers are just going to fly off and kill someone, right?"

"We're here now," he explains as he shines a light on one of the wipers. "And these old ones are pretty rough. I'll remove this one, then you do the passenger side." He urges you to be careful with the wiper and make sure you don't let it slap down on the windshield. Your phone buzzes with a string of texts as he directs your work.

What do you do?

I sigh, giving in. I guess this is probably a small price to pay for getting to party tonight. "Alright, alright." I watch closely as he demonstrates, and even when my phone starts going crazy, I ignore it. I'm going to finish this up, all dutiful, and then I can go have all the fun I want later.

Your dad happily replaces the windshield wiper fluid and "suggests" you work together this weekend to change the oil on your Rav4. After almost a half an hour, you're finally free to go. It's already seven.

The texts are mostly from Izzy:
Vincent sold me some of Booker's E!

I heard there's a thing at the Towne Club tonight, a private thing.

Are you going?

Can I come? I'll be the best wing-girl ever!

And there's one from Kastor:
Are you going to the thing tonight?

The time working on the car feels like it takes a small eternity to pass. When I can finally check my phone, I read the texts like they're water and I'm dying of thirst. I'm a little disappointed most of them are Izzy, but she still represents an opportunity for me, so I don't ignore her.

Instead, I text back:
Glad to hear that! I am going, but I don't think I can swing any more invites so last minute. It's a pretty tight guest list. They have security and everything. Soon, I'm sure!

Then there's Kastor's text. I can almost read the calmness in his question, such a contrast to Izzy's messages.

I text him:
Yes. Hoping to head over soon. Are you?

Kastor texts back,
I feel like maybe I should. But you know me and parties. Not good at them.

Want a ride?

I have to read the text at least four times, and check who it actually came from a dozen more, before I accept that Kastor just offered me a ride to a party.

After everything that's happened, I thought us talking was far-fetched, us planning to hang out after school tomorrow was a miracle, but this? This is clearly some god-level magic. I'm sure Booker's picking Soph up already and would have gladly carpooled with me too, so I don't bother to check with her before I text back:

Sure. But the helmet is going to ruin my hair, so you owe me one.