Dad isn't much of a cook either. Before we went over to the theater, I forced myself to eat the macaroni & cheese he cooked. I supposed it was the least I could do to avoid Sebastian's constant wails for attention. The one thing about having a baby in the house is that you slip under the radar more.
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"Where do you think you're going, missy?" mom asked, clearly still struggling to get rid of her pregnancy weight gain.
"I'm going for a walk," I said, "I need some fresh air."
"Well your father will be down in a few minutes," she reminded me.
I met up with one of the cast members of the play. I think his name was Steven and he actually lives up in Riverview, but worked here.
I saw that cad Andrew in front of the bookstore as I was coming out of the theater. I walked over to say hi but he still isn't speaking to me. I can't talk about this with my parents, and I hardly see the other kids at school, not between school and my job, and the one guy at school I did kinda talk to is now a YA and has graduated.
A gratuitous shot of dad being dad, well, because I can. He's got this big performance coming up so he's been spending pretty much his every waking moment practicing, and I do mean that literally. People really don't understand how deeply music runs in this man.
It still royally sucks though that I'm spending my Saturday night doing homework. I don't want anybody mistaking me for a geek. I'm just, well, punished for the foreseeable future.