Michelle =Seychelles

Mathew = Canada

Alfred = America

Dad = France

Father/Arthur = England

"Hey,"

"He's coming!" Michelle insisted before Mathew could even finish his sentence. "He's probably just late."

"Yeah,"Mathew thought, "But he's always late. By several days."He didn't say that outloud though, not to his baby sister, all dolled up and pretty for the father-daughter dance, to his little sister whose pretty blue dress was crumpled from sitting on the step outside the gymnasium for so long, waiting for her dad to come pick her up. He couldn't say that to his little sister, who still had hope in her eyes. So he said something else instead.

"Listen, I was wondering - I Know you're waiting for Dad, But - I was wondering... Well, you know I didn't go to prom, and I always wanted to go to a dance." It's not really true at all, Mathew hadchosennot to go to prom because he hated that sort of thing, crowds and loud people pushing and shoving and stuff, he preferred to stay home and read or hang out with a few close friends. But a little white lie never hurt anyone. "What I mean is... Would you please dance with me? Just once? Until Dad arrives?"

And Michelle finally took her eyes off the driveabout, twisting to look up at him. And for a moment, Mathew saw it in her eyes. She knew. Just like he knew. Dad wasn't coming. And she knew what Mathew was trying to do. And his heart sunk. Mathew had never been a good liar, now when he needed to be more than ever before, he'd failed again. And then he saw her make the decision, golden eyes hardening into a darker brown. And Michelle stood up, throwing up her chin and back her shoulders.

"Okay."

And Mathew made a funny little bow, and offered her his hand, like she was a princess. And Michelle took it, like he was a prince.

"My lady," Mathew exaggerated, "might I have this dance?"

And the smile crept back onto Michelle's face, sneakily.

"It would be my pleasure."

"Maybe,"Mathew thought, as he led his sister back into the gymnasium, full of loud people and music and spilt juice, "she knew all along, and was just waiting for me to ask."And maybe she didn't, and was still hoping their Dad would show up. Mathew wasn't sure which option was sadder. "Still, I'm glad I asked."

He led Michelle to a slightly less crowded area of the dance floor, and tried to find the rhythm to the song that was already halfway through.

Michelle took the lead. She'd been learning this dance for week, practicing, determined to impress their dad. Mathew had tried to help her practice, but he'd always had two left feet. Alfred, their older brother, had been the one to help her practice the most. Unfortunately, he couldn't come tonight, but had promised to pick them up after. Mathew stumbled a bit, and Michelle made an un-princess-like snort, and then quickly pretended she hadn't. Mathew magnanimously pretended he hadn't heard it.

The song ended before the dance did, but both siblings still danced, pretending the music (now with a different tempo) still matched their dance. And when Michelle spun and Mathew caught her, and they both stood trying to catch their breath, both flushed with effort, a a teacher and few parents nearby clapped and Michelle beamed and turned to crush Mathew with a bear hug, and Mathew beamed and hugged her right back.

By the end of the night, after Mathew finally found and extracted his sister from a group of friends and a few admirerers who had stolen her away, his sister swaying on her feet with exhaustion, Mathew had a thought as they waited for Alfred to pick them up."Once again, Dad didn't come."Beside him, his little sister's head lolled sideways, then stayed there, resting on his shoulder as her breath began to come even and deep. Mathew hoped his sister had had so much fun she didn't notice.

She would, eventually, of course, she wasn't dumb, but he hoped, at least for one night, she could just be happy and laugh without remembering Dad. That he could make her happy enough to fill that gaping hole just for a bit. Headlights rounded the driveabout, Alfred's familiar car pulling up, and Mathew raised a hand to signal their location. Alfred pulled up, and Mathew hushed him with a gesture, indicating their sleeping sister.

Alfred took a picture, smirking, but scooped her up and moved her so gently she didn't even wake, and Mathew strapped her in. The car ride home was quiet and it wasn't until Michelle had been transfered to her bed, pretty dress and tiara and all, that Alfred finally asked, with the air of someone who already knew.

"Did your Dad-?"

Mathew shook his head. Alfred frowned, but didn't say anything.

"But I think she still had fun."

Alfred perked a bit, and showed his pride in his brother by smashing his shoulder into Mathew's. "Atta boy! Good job, Mattie!"

And Mathew grinned too.

A few days later, maybe their dad would finally show up, pulling up their gravel driveway in his shiny car, stepping out in a fancy suit with a bouquet of flowers, and pretend to be surprised he'd missed the event, and their Father would lose his temper again, and Michelle would tell Arthur it was alright, and it wasn'talright, but Dad would still take Michelle out for a fancy dinner and give her some expensive gift that didn't really mean anything before he drove off out of their lives again, and Michelle would smile in a terrible way that looked like she wanted to cry as he left.

Maybe, in a few years, or even many years, Michelle would finally understand what Mathew already did, and stop waiting for their Dad to come back. Or Maybe Dad would finally change his ways, stop being so flaky, and try to make a spot for himself in his kid's lives, hoping it wouldn't be too late. Maybe it wouldn't be, and they'd make a wierd sort of broken family and it wouldn't hurt inside when they thought of Dad.

Maybe there might be a day when the words "father-daughter dance" didn't make Mathew want to cry.

"Or maybe pigs will learn to fly."

Mathew didn't know what the future held, or how to fix it. He didn't even know how to fix the present. But he hoped, at the least, the other half of his family, Arthur, Alfred, and him, maybe they could give his baby sister everything their dad couldn't, the things money can't buy. And he hoped (though he'd never tell her this) that one day she wouldn't cry for their Dad anymore, and would smile and laugh and bicker and be his dumb and happy little sister forever, and that maybe one day, at her wedding, or prom, or just for fun, he'd try to dance with her again with his two left feet, and she'd laugh just like she did tonight again.

But for now, Mathew leaned heavily on his Half-brother's shoulder and tried not to cry for a man who never loved them back.