Author's Note: Slightly revised chapter. 12/01/10

I yawn, glaring at my alarm clock as it keeps on beeping annoyingly. It is ...way too early for me to be up any day of the week, let alone on a Friday during my long-awaited summer vacation. Vacations were for sleeping in. I slam the snooze button with a growl, making myself comfortable as I settle back to sleep again.

Then I jolt back up in the bed than a minute later as it dawns on me that I had been planning to get up so early because my cousin Paula's wedding was today in Columbus. I smile as I pull myself out of my nice cozy bed, then groan in frustration. Oh, right, I'd be meeting my Korean grandmother today, and I'd promised my mom I'd sing for her while everyone else was running around doing wedding prep. Just how I want to spend the day—playing baby-sitter to a grandmother who I was fairly sure would think I was the strangest thing ever (and not necessarily in a good way).

As I drag myself into the shower, I count my lucky stars that Artie had agreed to come to this wedding with me as my plus one. Later, with a yawn, I make my way into my closet, trying to find the dress I'd bought last week for this special event. Unfortunately, the view from my window reveals that it's still pretty black out there, and I quickly decide that I need coffee if I'm going to attempt to take on the world while it's still dark outside.

My mom, perpetual early-bird that she is, is already in the kitchen, and she wordlessly hands me coffee upon seeing my bleary-eyed face. I manage a small grunt of thanks before I disappear into the pantry in search of pop-tarts (the true breakfast of champions).

"We're going to want to leave in about an hour and a half," says my mother, even as she's taking the pop-tarts from the toaster and putting them onto a plate for me. "You'll be ready by then, Tina?"

I inhale more coffee, and remind myself that my mother is nervous and just as uncomfortable with the Chang side of the family as I am. "Promise, mom. I've got the dress I bought last week with Mercedes and Kurt, and you looked over my accessories last night. They're pretty, unique, and completely appropriate for a wedding."

"It's not that I mind your regular look, but…" my mother trails off, not sure how to finish that sentence without offending me.

"Not exactly fit for a happy occasion like a wedding," I finish for her, trying to look sympathetic through a mouthful of pop-tart. "Thanks for letting Artie come with us."

My mom smiles at me. "Thank Paula for that. I'm glad she realized you'd be happier with someone your own age at the wedding, especially since most of the rest of your cousins on that side of the family are still pretty young."

"They're all still in elementary school," I whine. "Am I going to have to keep an eye on them today?"

"I don't think so," replies my mom. "Paula seemed pretty firm on the "no kids" rule. But you will keep an eye on Grandmother Chang, right?" Upon seeing my curiously mutinous look, she clarifies. "You don't have to be with her during the whole time we're there. But you're not in the bridal party and Paula wants you to sing to her, keep her calm before the ceremony, because it's going to be hard on her—she doesn't know English well, this is a strange country for her, and you and Artie are going to escort her to her seat before the ceremony as well."

I ignore the fact that she went over this with me just last night, and move to refill my coffee cup. "You can count on me, Mom," I promise. "Now, I need to go get dressed if we're going to get out of here on time."

"Do that," agrees my mom, looking relieved. "I know I'm being naggy, Tina, but you know how wellI get on with your father's side of the family."

"I hear you loud and clear." I nod my head at her in a show of solidarity, because I prefer the Cohen side of the family tree, too. This makes her smile, and I take advantage of the lull, using it to creep back into my room.

The sunlight is finally starting to break, but I reach for a light anyway as I pull out my dress. It's a simple thing, a blue dress with a purple striped design and black trim. It's a little lower cut than I'm used to, but when I complained about that in the store, Kurt just handed me a cap-sleeved black shrug and told me that "we all must suffer for fashion sometimes."

I'm pulling out a nice pair of black flats and a purple handbag , both of which I'd "borrowed" from my mother's closet some time ago and never bothered to return. (She has so much stuff, I'm not sure she's noticed yet.) The doorbell rings as I'm slipping some product through my hair, which is curled softly for the occasion. I pull part of it back with a metallic blue and purple clip and head down to get the door, because I'm pretty sure I know who it is.

Sure enough, it's Artie, and he's looking really, really nice in a dark suit with a subtle pinstripe. But what I notice most of all is the fact that for some reason or another, he's managed to find a tie that matches my dress. It amuses me more than it should, and I smile at him warmly.

"Hi Tee," greets Artie after a minute. We both look away when we realize we've been staring.

"Hey," I reply, smiling in approval at his outfit. "I like the suit."

"Well, I like the dress," he replies, matching my grin.

"And see? No fishnets or combat boots," I say with a wink. "Now, give me a sec, okay? I'm almost ready, but not quite and I think my parents are still getting ready. Be back in ten."

He nods at me and I head into the bathroom to finish with my make-up, which is incredibly toned down for the day. I make a detour into the kitchen on the way back to the living room and grab the plate with the pop-tart that I didn't eat for breakfast on it, which I then give to Artie.

"You haven't eaten yet, right?" I guess, handing over the food.

"Well, I have, but I'm not going to turn down your generous pop-tart offer," he says, accepting the plate from me. "You never share your pop-tarts."

"I do too," I reply, my tone teasing. "It's not my fault you steal them first."

"Ri-iiight," says Artie skeptically, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry. "Tee, no one gets between you and your pop-tarts. Or your coffee. You're scary before you've had both in the morning."

"Really?" I wrap my head around this thought for a minute. "That's kind of cool. Makes me fierce or something."

"You're plenty fierce enough on your own." Artie chuckles and grins at me.

"Even better," I agree. A comfortable silence settles over us, and I take advantage of it to start humming "Here Comes the Sun" to myself to fill the void.

"That's the song you're singing for your grandmother, right?" asks Artie when I'm finished. "You sound great, Tee. I'm sure she'll love it."

"I hope so. Especially since you helped me learn the song. And pick it out." I bite my lip, suddenly nervous. "You brought your guitar, right? So you can be my accompaniment. Please say you did."

"No, I left it behind at my house so you'd be stuck singing by yourself," he replies sarcastically. Then his smile turns sincere before he continues. "No, Tee. I wouldn't abandon you in your hour of need like that. Your dad already loaded it in the back of the car."

"Oh," I say, breathing a sigh of relief. "I guess that means there's nothing I can do until we get there."

"Except keep me company, of course," reminds Artie. "I was at your family's New Year's party last year, remember? Your family is crazy, Tee. I might be your plus one, but you're my shield."

"Shield?" I shoot him a disbelieving look. "Shield. I'm your shield. Some kind of knight in shining armor you're turning out to be."

"Hey," Artie deadpans, "don't look at me like that, Tee. I'm just the escort here. You're the one charging in, armed with a song."

"We're all in trouble then now," I reply with an exaggerated roll of my eyes. "Because that's not going to work so well against the craziness of the Chang clan. They're something else."

"So I've heard," comments Artie dryly. "When are we leaving?"

I glance at the clock. "My parents told me to be ready five minutes ago. So that means we'll actually be leaving in about another fifteen to twenty. Do you want anything before I help you into my mom's hybrid? We're taking that instead of my dad's SUV because it'll probably be easier for you to get into a car instead. But it'll be cramped."

"Good thing I like you then," jokes Artie. "I'm fine, Tee."

"You sure? I'm getting more coffee. And finding cookies. It's a two-hour drive at bare minimum."

"Well, if you're offering coffee," Artie trails off, thinking. "I probably need more caffeine if the stories about your family are to believed."

"Definitely." I nod and head into the kitchen to prepare travel mugs for everyone (I come by my coffee addiction honestly; both my parents are overly attached to the stuff too).

My father wanders into the kitchen, straightening his tie as I'm pouring the last of the coffee from the pot into a travel cup. "Morning, Tina-Turner," he greets, bending down to give me a kiss on the cheek before taking one of the mugs. "Has Artie come over yet?"

I nod. "Artie's here, I'm ready. How much longer will Mom be?"

"She claims five more minutes, but knowing her..." My dad trails off.

"At least another ten, minimum. Do I need to make more coffee?" I'm automatically heading over to the sink to get more water for the coffeemaker.

My father takes another long swig of coffee before replying. (I get my distaste for mornings naturally.) "I think we'll be okay for now. If it is needed, I'll buy everyone another cup when we stop for gas at the halfway point."

Artie rolls into the kitchen, looking around for me. "Good morning, Mr. Cohen-Chang. I smelled coffee in here."

"Tina made it, so it turned out well for once," says my father, grinning. "How are you today, Artie?"

"Just fine," says Artie. He shoots me a thankful look when I pass him a container of coffee. "Thanks for letting me come along today."

My dad beams at him. "You're welcome. Tina would never forgive me if I didn't let her bring someone along."

"Da-aaad," I begin, my tone somewhere between a whine and a warning.

"Tina-Turner, I think I'm allowed to talk to your boyfriend," says my father. "We are having a pleasant conversation. Aren't we, Artie?"

Artie wastes no time mouthing "Tina-Turner?" to me before addressing my father. "Yes sir. A pleasant conversation over coffee that Tina made. Very good coffee," he amends, taking a sip.

My dad smiles approvingly at Artie. "I always knew we that we liked having you around. I'm going to leave you two alone and go find your mom, Tina. If she isn't ready in five minutes, then just the three of us will be going to my niece Paula's wedding today." He chuckles as he heads into their bedroom.

There is a moment of silence before Artie starts talking, leaping onto the nickname my father's inadvertently told him about. "Tina-Turner, Tee?"

I shrug. "My dad's a fan. Apparently she was one of the first American singers he liked. And my mom's name is Christina, so it made him think of her. Anyway, "Simply the Best" was the song they played at their wedding, for their first dance. So yes, I'm more or less named after her. And the Beatles."

"The Beatles, too?" Artie raises an eyebrow, curiously. "How so?"

"Tina Michelle," I explain. "I'm not sure who decided on Michelle. I need to wrangle that story out of them sometime."

"Your parents are cooler than I thought," replies Artie, after thinking about it for a moment.

I grin at him. "They're okay, sometimes." I pause when I hear the familiar click of my mother's heels on the tile floor of the kitchen. "I think we're about to go."

"Hello, Artie," greets my mom, even as she's leaning across the counter to take the last cup of coffee. "Tina, everything ready to go?"

"Yes," I respond automatically. "Everything's fed that needs to be fed, watered that needs to be watered, and turned off that needs to be turned off. Where's Dad?"

"In the car," replies my mom, with a grimace. "Let's be going then, before we're late and he starts getting impatient. It's a big day for him."

I'm pushing Artie outside while she's talking, nodding obediently. "Yes, mom."

My mother looks like she's about to say something else, but she stops herself. "Sorry, Tina. I'm ...well. You know."

"I do," I agree. "Let's go see my cousin get married, and maybe it won't be so bad, Mom."

My mother manages a wan smile before climbing into the front seat, leaving me to get Artie situated for the trip. I shake my head and set Artie's chair into the trunk before settling in next to him in the backseat.

"All set?" asks my mother, turning her head back to check on the pair of us.

"Yes ma'am," says Artie, and I nod in agreement. Satisfied, my mother faces forward again and my dad starts backing the car down our driveway. Less than five minutes after we've officially hit the road (twenty minutes late, but who's counting?), Artie reaches across the backseat and takes my hand. I smile shyly at him and squeeze our joined hands.

And just like that, we're off to Paula's wedding. Maybe it won't be so bad after all. Or maybe it will. Who knows?