'Stupid Neeks,' I said. 'Who needs him?'

I put on my earpiece and walked around for no specific reason.

Whatever I felt that last time was gone. I was too harsh on him. Now I regretted it.

I wanted to go back and apologize, but I thought that would bruise my ego.

'Let him suffer.' I said. 'Hit him up style.'

Creesome played Blu Cantrell's Hit 'Em Up Style.

That strangely reminded me of how I got my last iPod.

'Il mio amore,' Mom said to my dad. She usually spoke Italian when she wanted to butter him up.

And the funny thing; last night she caught him drinking.

'Yes, mi cara, perdona moglie.' My dad replied.

Mom winked, as if to say Watch Me.

'You work so hard,' She said. 'Do you want a massage?'

Dad raised and eyebrow. He was used to this game. 'What do you want?'

'Can't I take care of you?' Mom was already massaging his shoulders.

'How much is it?' Dad asked.

'Oh, tesoro, don't you think I just want to do this; instead of trying to bribe you?' Mom pulled off his jacket. For an italiana, she could be quite Spanish.

'Nico's been expelled from four schools already; I don't want another kid.' Dad said, his expression saying the exact opposite.

'Speaking of my precious daughter,' She kissed Dad's face a lot. 'Her birthday's next week, right?'

'Yes,' said Dad who was loving this torture.

'I want a gift for her.' Mom said, trying not to laugh at Dad. 'A gift she will love.'

My dad, getting the memo but refusing to stop, acted surprised. 'What is it? How much?'

'Let's not talk about it here.' Mom said, also untying Dad's tie. 'It should be a surprise; and Nicola's watching.'

Like the wind that carried me away when I fell off the death cliff, my dad swept mom off her feet and took her away; completely forgetting it was Tuesday.

'That'll be my cue.' I ran to my room, pulled off my school uniform and turned on the tv.

Good times, I thought.

I felt like I was re-seeing it; like it was really right in front of me.

'It was.'

I jumped backwards.

My memory wasn't in front of me; but a gangster was.

There's no describing that guy. Think about any gangster you've seem recently. Add firey eyes and a bronze knife. You got it, girl.

'I'm used to showing painful stuff,' Gangsta said. 'But I wanted to see if it worked with other memories.'

I saw I was on a roof.

My nerves tensed instantly.

'Relax.' Gangsta said, and everything disappeared. I was back on the ground in Cocoa Beach.

'Aerophobia; at least you're scared of something named after me.' Gangsta said. 'Your brother… not so much.'

'Your name's Aero?' I asked.

'Phobos.' Gangsta said. 'You can call me your worst nightmare.'

'Philbert?' I asked, trying not to be terrified.

'Your worst nightmare.' Philbert said. 'Bro chose a nice one for me.

'Acrophobia, algophobia, aphenphosmphobia, astraphobia, aichmophobia; and that's just the alphas.' Philbert said. 'Catagelophobia, cynophobia, hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia, which is not easy to say, btw.

'Hemophobia, lockiophobia, ophidiophobia, a tiny, tiny amount of philophobia when you were about six; but good thing you're over it now, not.

'Scolinonophobia, and finally wiccapobia.' Philbert said. 'I think I forgot something. It starts with a G. What is it?'

'Gamophobia?' I squeaked.

'Perfect!' Philbert said. 'Smart girl. It doesn't make sense how you have scolinonophobia; fear of school. You're a genius.

'Thanks for reminding me.' Philbert said. 'Gamophobia's your most important fear, right?'

'Yeah.' I was scared to death.

'So, genius, what does it mean?'

'F-fear of marriage.'

'And I'm sure it came during the divorce proceedings, right?'

Philbert zapped me into another painful, horrible memory.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

'Nica!'

Nico was rattling me.

'I'm sorry.' I hugged Neeks.

He said something reassuring, like; 'What the dad happened to you?'

'Where's Philbert?' I asked.

'Phobos?' Nico asked. 'Over there.'

I turned to see Barbie fighting Gangsta.