My Daughter
The slamming of the door rocked the apartment. Amy looked up from her latest book outline and slowly set down her pencil. "I've got this." She tried knocking first.
"Go away!"
Amy smiled. "Same old Mels." The second time she just pulled a bobby from her hair and picked the lock.
Melody was face down on her bed, with her pillow pulled over her head.
Amy sat down beside her daughter and placed a hand on the curve of her Melody's back. "Whoever he or she is, they're not worth it."
"That's easy for you to say, you've got Dad."
"I didn't always had Dad."
"Yes you did," Rory argued from the door. "You just didn't know it."
"Not helping, Stupid Face."
Melody peeked out from under her pillow, her face wet. "I hate school, I hate relationships, I hate being a kid. Sometimes I just wanna…"
Amy patted Melody's shoulder. "Why don't we call up Anthony? The four of us could catch a movie or something."
Melody wrinkled her nose. "And be the fifth wheel? No way!"
"Fifth wheel?"
"Wherever Anthony goes, Ethan goes. Then there's the mushy ol' pair of you. Usually that's great, the four of you, but not today, please."
"Okay, just the three of us then. Wherever you want to go."
Melody rolled over and eyed her parents suspiciously. "Maybe I want to ditch school for a week and go cross country?"
Amy looked at her husband.
Rory frowned. "I'll have to make a call–"
"Seriously?!" Melody blurted.
"One heartache is bad enough," Amy replied. "You have to be doubly accommodating to those with two."
