I was currently on my second batch of rainbow cupcakes and in the middle of humming Natasha's Waltz. The university here had a Women's Resource Centre; although I couldn't volunteer there because I don't live here full time, I still wanted to help out. They were having a sexual awareness week down on campus and I offered to help run the bake sale table in the sexual assault section. It was therapeutic for me to be around other survivors.
The mix was ready to be poured into the pan; or at least it was until there was a knock at the front door. Licking the batter off my fingers, I went to see whoever was interrupting my quote "baking" section. Imagine my surprise and delight to find none other than Peter standing there. He scanned me up and down, and grinned. "Hi." "Hi, Peter! Nice to see you." "Likewise. Um, am I interrupting something?" "Huh? Oh," I peered down at the batter all over my shirt. "No, I'm just baking. Come on in!" "Thanks," he didn't hesitate to follow me inside. "What are you baking?" "Cupcakes for the Women's Resource Centre's bake sale at the university." "Oh!" His eyes lit up. "I didn't know you volunteered there." "I don't, but my university doesn't have an equivalent centre, so I want to contribute as much as I can while here." "Why?" "Because feminism and support for all genders is important to me," I quickly answered, turning back to my bowl and pan. "I see," his head gave a slow, thoughtful nod. I'm not really sure if you knew what I meant but that didn't really matter at the moment.
"You know, it's easier if you make something that you can cut into squares, like brownies?" "Peter Kavinsky, your logic is horribly flawed," I shot a half-smirk up to him. He blinked surprised. "Think of it like this. There are two problems with brownies. First, they'll be an abundance of them because they are easy. And second, since there's lots of brownies, I'd have to make mine extra fancy for them to be bought. Now cupcakes on the other hand, will be lacking because they're more work. And really, if you choose between a brownie and a cupcake, when both cost the same, which would you pick?" Peter stared at me with large eyes for a moment before letting out a little chuckle. "Sometimes I forget how smart you are." "Oh no, you're smarter than me, Peter," I grinned up at him. "I sincerely doubt that." And we smiled at each other for the next minute or so.
I sucked in a deep breath and continued with my baking. "So, my dear fake boyfriend, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" "What? Did you not read my note? I'm taking you to Greg's party." "Taking me?" My eyebrow playfully rose. "Escorting; I'm escorting you to Greg's party tonight," he corrected with an amused eyeroll. "Oh! I'm sorry, Peter; I completely forgot. I don't think I can go tonight." "What are you talking about? Of course you can go; I can't go without my ahem, girlfriend. One- Gen will be there. And two- it would look really weird if I was there without you." "It wouldn't look weird, Peter. We're adults; no one cares anymore." "Come on, Covey; you have to come. What's the point in having a fake girlfriend if you don't go to important events like parties with me?"
"Go where now?" We both turned to see Daddy enter the kitchen; he was carrying grocery bags in his hands. "Is that Peter Kavinsky?" His eyes lit up at the sight of my dear "boyfriend". "Yes, sir," Peter mirrored his happy expression. "Peter Kavinsky! I haven't seen you in what, six-seven years? Look at you! You're all grown up!" "It's good to see you again, Dr. Covey," I watched as they shook hands firmly. "You can call me Dan, son." Son…. A smile unconsciously blossomed over my lips. Something about that sounded… nice. Very nice indeed.
"So what are you doing here, Peter? Come to call on Aerity?" Daddy winked at me, making me blush a tad. "Daddy!" "I'm just here to take…. I mean escort Aerity to a friend's party. Um, he goes to Princeton! And there'll be limited drinking and no drugs there, sir," he added in a flash, like he was almost worried my father would say no; cause you know, we're still teenagers who need to ask permission. My eyes rolled inwardly. Daddy however, seemed rather impressed; by the way he postured himself, I think he actually wanted Peter to continue. Peter took the cue and went on. "I won't drink a drop, and I'll definitely have her home early. Uh, is it alright if we go?" Heh, twenty-four years old and he's still asking my father if he can take me out for the evening….. this was a little offensive, but I won't lie, I also found it slightly enduring.
"Absolutely!" Daddy's hands went up into the air. "Go! Have fun! Be wild! Do it while you can; those years are coming to a close." "Thank you, Daddy, but I can't." "Why not?" "I have all these cupcakes to finish; the bake sale's tomorrow." "I think Kitty and I can handle some cupcakes," Daddy came over to my side. "Why don't you go have fun with your escort, Peter Kavinsky; get dressed, get changed- you look like a crazy lady." "Well….." My eyes shifted from him to Peter as I nibbled my lower lip thoughtfully. "Are you sure you don't mind? These really have to get baked." "Yes, sweetheart; we'll take care of it. Now you go get ready," my beloved father instructed. "Yes, Daddy," with a growing smile, I headed up the stairs and to my room. While on my way up, I heard Peter say to Daddy: "I promise to get her home safe and sound." And I could practically feel Daddy's smile from all the way over here. "I know."