Chapter 1: Best Day of My Life

Being back stateside brings back some of my least favourite memories. I wouldn't even know where to start. A father who tried to push me into politics, that's where I'll begin. It's sort of like when your parents take you to church and Sunday should your entire childhood, if you have much sense to you, you begin to resent it, and eventually reject them entirely. And man do I hate politics.

I pulled on my white wrap dress, tying the bow on my right hip and matching it with a nude pump. I stopped at one of the millions of generic hipster coffee shops on the way to the Palo Alto centre this morning, I needed the boost. Little did I know it was the stupidest thing I would ever do. I smiled at the pretty girl behind the counter as she handed me my triple shot latte, and turned to leave, flipping my hair slightly in the process, letting the deep golden tones catch the bring sunshine. As I made it to the door I was stopped by a kind stranger opening the plate glass for me. "Lola?" He asked in a low, sleek tone that I would recognise anywhere. I looked up from my most important current possession (coffee) to see him. I frowned for a moment, acting as though I didn't know exactly who he was. "Angus?" I asked softly, my middle class British accent contrasting harshly against his slightly Texan twang. "Yeah!" He grinned; as though I was that bring sunshine outside. "I had no idea you were back in the country, how are you?" I considered how to answer this for a minute, before letting a little honestly pass my lips. "I'm actually late for work. It was nice to see you again." It came out cold, and slightly pained. I didn't meant to be that honest. I stepped out the door without another word, being sure not to look back. I got into my car down the street and drove to work, trying to ignore the problem until I could really devote time to it.

When I got back to the house after work I realised what had happened to me that morning. It has been 13 years since I have seen Angus MacGyver, each one letting reminders sink in. Don't get me wrong, the two jobs I have, Tesla and some freelance contracting, they keep me busy. But you never forget the body you lose your virginity to. You never forget the first kiss, the first 'I love you', the first being caught by a parent. The first time (and only) time I was carted from a country kicking and screaming for being in bed with a boy. Granted we were 15, but my father overreacted. I don't think I ever really forgave him for that. He took me away from everything I had known the 3 years leading up to that moment, and Germany was a tough adjustment. Not the language of course, I was fluent from about 7, but you never get over Angus MacGyver.