…

Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.

54: Sleep Memo

…
Thursday, February 16 (cont.)

Instead of leaving, Shannon pulled every thread of small-talk, and I didn't understand her apparent reluctance to leave until she found me alone in the hallway. She shifted from one foot to another, fiddling with her zipper when, finally, she asked in a half-whisper, "Would it be at all possible for you to get me your father's autograph?"

"My dad's in the living room," I replied without thinking. I blinked. I pulled away. "You mean Garrett?"

"Garrett Kamwanga, yes. My son is a huge fan, you see, and it would mean the world—"

I stared at her as she continued explaining. She was clearly uncomfortable with her own question, and it struck me that this was going to be my life from now on… talking about Garrett, praising Garrett, hearing about Garrett. I'd have lied if I said the prospect didn't annoy me.

"I'll see what I can do," I said after she'd stopped talking. "I can't promise anything, though. I don't usually do that kind of thing for him."

"I understand. Thank you. I'd be so grateful."

I face-planted against the hallway wall after she left.

My parents carried a sleeping Riley to the mattress on their bedroom floor and prepared for bed but the faint light under their door and the murmurs over white noise proved that they were far from ready to sleep. Not that I blamed them with the nuclear bomb of Garrett exploding the day.

I turned on my star projector in the hallway in case Riley decided to come check if Edward and I were breathing.

I remembered to include cleaning my ear piercings in my bedtime routine, changed into my best ratty pajamas, and found Edward sprawled on my bed, his jaw resting on his palm as he read a book with a cover that looked like the Ukrainian flag, Mechanical Vibrations. That was the thing I'd learned about my boyfriend now that he stayed over more: Edward was a reader. He read before bed. He read between classes. Sometimes, he took notes, and I couldn't believe he read engineering-related non-fiction for fun, but he did.

I also couldn't believe he was dating me of all people, but here we were.

Edward was lean and beautiful in his blue pajama pants and a holey graphic T-shirt, and I admired his biceps as he stretched and turned the page. His new black earring made his profile even more intimidating, and the frown between his brows didn't help, either.

My phone began buzzing next to his pillow. Edward leaned over to decline the call before he noticed me in the doorway.

Hair rose in the back of my neck as his fiery gaze ran over my body.

"This might be your sixth call since you went to brush your teeth." Edward took my phone, ready to hand it to me before he glanced at the name of the caller. "Who is—Master of Whiners?"

God, if Edward only knew.

"My co-star," I replied like it was no biggie. I shut the door, declined Mike's call and put my phone back on the table.

Edward smiled. "The one you didn't want to kiss so much that you made up a crush on me?"

"The very same."

He grinned, set his book face down on the table and opened his arms for me. Swarms of butterflies flittered in my stomach as I snuggled against his warm body. Edward pointed my desk lamp at the wall before he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me oh-so-tight against him.

"So he whines a lot, huh?"

"You've no idea."

"Is he hideous?"

Squeezing his back, I grinned against his neck. "Very."

"Good." Edward slid his palm under my shirt and squeezed my waist. "Are you feeling better?"

I scratched his buzz cut, pressed a kiss against his skin and earned a groan. "Much better."

Edward covered my ass with his palm before adjusting me against him and intertwining our legs. I drowned in affection as he began to kiss me, silently, smiling and nuzzling my cheek in between. His buzz cut tickled my fingertips, and I was lost in his scent and breathy kisses when he withdrew. I almost whimpered. He pulled on a curl on my face. It bounced back.

Edward observed my face with a gorgeous, dazed gaze but said nothing.

"What?"

He pressed a kiss in the corner of my mouth, rested the side of his head properly on his palm, and said, "Tell me."

I shifted to be able to focus on his face, but I refused to remove my body from his because his warmth was everything. Then, resting my elbow on top of his pillow and squeezing his fingers, I shared everything from how mom met Garrett years ago (and a limited version of how he found out about me) to being a mirror image of his murdered sister. I told him that Garrett hadn't, apparently, been the only option for my biological father, and that Garrett had done a DNA test behind our backs. Edward listened, attentively, asking questions here and there but stayed otherwise silent. He was good at that.

When I finished talking, he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth, contemplating.

"Tell me," I insisted, getting worried. "Are you pissed? Do you want to yell at me? I don't like it when I don't know how you're feeling."

Edward shook his head and huffed. "I'm not—no. I just, school is going to be a nightmare, and I don't, I don't know how to live with the level of scrutiny you're going to be subjected to. People will shit on me for dating you, or shit on you for dating me, and everyone's just so fucking weird around me now. Weird and nosy. Everything's about Garrett, how many times I've met him, what do I think of him, when did I find out that he's your biological father—I hate it. It's endless. I just want to…" Eyes blazing, Edward brushed my knuckles back and forth against his lips. "I just want to be with you."

Pulling myself flush against him, I kissed him, and Edward gripped the back of my neck as he hummed against my lips.

"Me, too," I replied quietly.

He gave me a sad smile. "I can't even imagine the shitstorm when the world discovers you're dating a guy from a trailer park whose dad is a methhead."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I hope they don't find out or that it blows over quickly if they do. Or that it doesn't matter."

"I just hope they're not interested in me," Edward replied. "But what if it doesn't blow over? Garrett Kamwanga can easily convince you I'm a bad influence on you."

"No," I insisted, ignoring his use of Garrett's surname as I squeezed his neck and pulled back to focus on his eyes. "No. Not only because I wouldn't stand for that shit, but also because he likes you. He blamed mom for letting you stay the night when I was still fifteen because he was worried that the people who took photos of me, or us, might use it against us."

"Shit." Edward paled. "Fuck, I can't believe I never thought about that. It's a… it's a good point. Damn."

"I think they've confiscated the photos or whatever, and it's doubtful your aunt had any intention of getting you involved in anything… but we can ask her. Can we?"

"Probably."

"Either way, even if photos do exist—implying that you stayed the night—that's not proof of anything. I hope, I hope that nobody cares about that."

But Edward still looked so alarmed that I hugged him. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to upset you. Are you okay?"

Edward's warm exhale blew against my skin before he pressed his lips against my neck. My heartbeat echoed in my ears as I clutched his body as close as I could. "Talk to me," I whispered, more anxious about his silence than any shouting he could've thrown at me. "What can I do?"

His chest expanded against mine with his inhale.

"Nothing," he said, voice quiet but rough, clearly no longer referring to a few photographs that might or might not exist. "It's not your fault."

"It's a little bit my fault. I should've warned you. But… are we—okay?"

Edward squeezed me tight before he pulled back and cupped my neck.

"We're okay," he replied, but the storm of shame and embarrassment in his eyes disagreed with his words.

"Edward," I warned, touching his fingers against my lips, searching his eyes. "Please tell me."

He wiped his hand over his face, almost aggressively. "It's fine."

"Edward," I repeated, pleading. "Tell me, baby. I can't make it better if you won't tell me."

He shook his head and talked to our locked hands.

"It was my aunt," he said, finally. "My fucking aunt. And I didn't notice. I'm not that stupid, Bella. I should've noticed something was off. I should've known."

"No! Why would you have noticed? When? You didn't even live with her! You had shittons going on, including having to be at her beck-and-call whenever she felt like it, handling Riley, handling your dad, your olympiads and chess and… honestly, me. Please don't blame yourself."

"Are you angry?"

"At you?"

The slightest nod accompanied his kissing my knuckles.

"Absolutely not. Not even a little bit. It's insane you'd even ask me that."

Still not meeting my eyes, Edward asked, "What about my aunt?"

"What about her?"

"Are you pissed at her?"

I scoffed. Anger or betrayal would've been the correct emotional response, if such a thing existed, but I didn't actually feel angry at Edward's aunt for stalking me, or even involving her friends. I was mad at her for other reasons, like treating Edward like an emergency nanny only to go drinking, or giving Riley abandonment issues and then blaming him for the very thing she caused. But stalking me? Maybe it was too soon and my brain hadn't caught up to the reality with Garrett's plans swarming through our day like a cloud of locusts, but it hadn't occurred to me to feel angry.

"No." I cupped his jaw and kissed him gently. "Not really. I don't know why. Maybe it'll take a few days and I'll be pissed out of my mind on Sunday, but for now… I'm just so sorry for dragging you through this. Is she in custody, now? How's Peter?"

"She's in custody," Edward confirmed. "And Peter… skipped Chemistry, which is unlike him, but… I understand, all things considered."

"Where will he live, now that his parents are… not home?"

"His uncle lives with them if I remember correctly."

"Do you think Peter knew?"

"I've no clue, baby. I don't know."

I kissed the back of Edward's hand and gave him a sad smile. "What does it say about me if he did know? Then, my first kiss and my first date were both with guys who weren't actually interested in me. What kind of first class loser am I that I can't even get a guy to like me?"

"Oh fuck that," Edward growled, crushing me against his chest. "I like you," he grumbled, his breath blowing against my ear. "I liked you even before I understood that I liked you, or I wouldn't have been quite so eager to be your first kiss. Do you know how many guys I suddenly caught discussing you after you asked me to find a person to be your first kiss? It felt like I was up against the entire school, and of course I thought I didn't ask them because they'd be inadequate for the job not because… I loved the idea of you being my first kiss."

"Really?"

Edward squeezed me tight, pressed a soft kiss in front of my ear, and definitely had a smile in his voice. "Really."

Words felt inadequate to express how much I didn't deserve him, so I kissed his soft T-shirt above his heart.

"Besides, your first date was with me," Edward insisted, sounding almost offended.

Warmth spread through me. Grinning, I tickled my fingertips with his hair.

"Do you see me differently now?"

"No," he said, playing with my curls. "And yes."

"Good different or bad different?"

"Just… different."

Scared of what his words might mean, I pulled away to see his eyes. "Want to explain?"

"Not even a little bit." His smile was bittersweet before he pressed a soft kiss on my eyebrow. "I don't think I could even if I wanted to. Give me a week or two to understand it myself."

As feather-light and loved as I felt in his arms (or as worried as I could've allowed myself to be about what it meant for Edward to see me differently), I had to check through my phone. Edward returned to his chapter. Facing him, I played with his palm and tickled his toes with my own as I scrolled through my pile of unanswered calls and messages. Tanya had called before messaging me with the changed location and time of our chemistry read: three hours earlier at six AM. I sent Tanya a thumbs up and forwarded the message to dad (unnecessarily, since Tanya had already informed my parents).

Edward told me he'd picked up Jasper's call when I discovered that his call had mysteriously been answered, but I would've had to spend two nights talking non-stop to cover any significant ground with anyone who had my number, so I only felt relieved. I laughed at Edward's description of Jasper absolutely losing his shit for the whole Chemistry (or IB Chemistry SL; so much for Jasper claiming a similarity with a bag of rocks). I was in for a thorough questioning by the man when I returned to school on Monday, which, in all this mess, I almost looked forward to.

Jasper was a crazy gossipmonger, but if I ever had a brother, I would've wanted one like him.

Alice wanted all the deets about Garrett, too, but I couldn't promise her anything before Monday.

Edward and I hesitated to settle our plans to spend the weekend at his gramps' home with Riley so freshly adapting to my parents. I promised I'd ask how my parents felt about Riley's ability to spend an entire weekend with them, but Edward and I already felt like postponing our weekend getaway was the right thing to do. I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all, and neither did Edward, but… there would hopefully be other weekends for us to visit his gramps.

Hopefully, Garrett hadn't set the wheels in motion for a wholly different kind of premature discovery.

Tanya couldn't push Edward's NDA through fast enough.

Done with sending messages to the most urgent-sounding inquiries (and studiously avoiding Instagram and TikTok), I set my phone aside and waited for Edward to finish the last page of his chapter. He set a random receipt as his bookmark, put the book on the table and faced me. Resting the side of his head on his palm, he assessed me with that piercing, attentive gaze that gave me butterflies.

Neither of us said anything until he cuddled against me and kissed my knuckles. I grinned.

"Thank you for being so lovely about everything."

"Well… dating the girl I love or running off and blaming her for making the exact choice I made. Tough choice," he replied. "The downside of this choice is that I have to suck up the incredible amount of attention you'll gather for the weekend. Have you seen what people are saying on Insta?"

"Is it bad?"

"It's… a lot. It's surreal. Do you want to look together?"

To avoid being interrupted by calls (but mostly to avoid showing Edward anything related to Underground Memories), I booted up my old laptop and updated my browser before opening one tab for Instagram and one for TikTok.

I had hundreds of thousands of notifications with over ten thousand follow requests. Multiple people who were already following me had tagged me in videos (of Garrett showing up in front of our school) only available to followers I'd already approved. The live pinging of notifications sent my computer speakers to such a frenzy that Edward and I cringed for a fraction of a second before Edward muted it.

"Jesus."

My heart was pounding. What was I supposed to do with that kind of attention? It was insane if not downright terrifying.

Edward helped me to find the settings where I could turn off all notifications both for my (private) Instagram and my (public) TikTok. Hundreds of students at Willie W. Smith had tagged me in the same videos on TikTok, but at least I'd "only" received two thousand or so more followers, probably because my Instagram didn't link to my TikTok account, nor did TikTok have my real name or photo.

Surreal was the correct word. It was nuts.

Hundreds of people had DMed me, too, and I must've looked miserably overwhelmed because Edward shifted closer and took my hand in his.

"You don't have to reply to anyone. You don't have to approve anyone. You don't even have to make any decisions tonight."

I stared at him, wide-eyed, squeezing his hand. "They'll think I'm an asshole."

"And what's the alternative? Staying up all night messaging strangers? Who's going to die if you don't do anything tonight? Didn't you just tell me you're supposed to get up at five AM tomorrow?"

"I don't like people thinking I'm an asshole."

A half-scoff, half-huff escaped Edward before he took a deep, annoyed breath. He observed my face.

"Fine," he said, his tone implying anything but. "I'll help you sort it out on the weekend. Nothing tonight, okay? I forbid it."

I narrowed my eyes, prevented from doing my finger-cross by his grip on my hand. Knowing what I wanted to do, Edward's eyes sparkled but he didn't say anything.

Instead, his eyes flickered on the screen, and quietly, he said, "We don't even have to look at his post if you don't want to."

"No! I mean, I want to."

"It might be a bad idea, baby. There's a lot of stupid shitheads in the world."

"I know," I said, hoping I was ready for it. Shaking his head, Edward gave me a pursed-lipped smile but kissed my temple as I opened Garrett's post with over five hundred thousand likes and four thousand comments.

Edward wrapped his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me half-under him. I kissed his jaw in gratitude.

W84ET 'I am fuckin speechless. HOW was this kept under wraps? Just fuckin HOW? I think we need to get Bella Swan & her parents to work for the fuckin CIA or FBI or a secret service of some kind. WILD. I can't even. #mindblown #howdidthishappen #gkamreveal'

This message of absolute amazement repeated through the entire comment section, but some threads were worth reading more than others.

My heart dropped at the next one.

DRGeorgia_N_David 'Ugh, another nepo baby. Don't we have enough of those spoiled little asshats telling the world how they pulled themselves up by their bootstraps while vacationing on private islands pumping botox in their ass?! Pathetic. So not interested.'

datGKamF8 ' DRGeorgia_N_David And yet here you are, COMMENTING. If you're not interested, WHY ARE YOU HERE?'

WingardiumLeviDavis 'I dunno, DRGeorgia_N_David, I'm googling her to the depths of the internet and you can barely tell what she's up to. IMDb shows a few animations, guest appearances in TV shows and minor roles in movies. A few commercials show up, and none of the previous is tied to anyone Garrett would know. Her current project is undisclosed. Her Instagram's private, her TikTok's about her cat (that girl has a future in comedy; I laughed until I cried), and she does not have a single post in any forum, interview or article (that I can get my hands on) even MENTIONING Garrett. (In contrast, she mentions the parents who raised her PLENTY.) I'm a bit confused who today's reveal was supposed to benefit. She's CLEARLY okay not talking about him. She's clearly okay not even being ACKNOWLEDGED by him. Not a word from her since the reveal. Did he get impatient, hiding her? And if so, why?'

DRGeorgia_N_David ' WingardiumLeviDavis You're joking. She's going to plaster herself all over every social media platform, you just chillax and you'll be sick of her by the end of the day.'

1gnom1n1ous ' WingardiumLeviDavis, not everything is a frickin conspiracy. They might've had an agreement that Garrett would get to introduce her to the world on her Sweet 16, bells and whistles included.'

WingardiumLeviDavis ' 1gnom1n1ous But WHY? If she was in a rush to tell the world that she was daughter of the Garrett we all know and love, she could've revealed that at ANY point in her life. Literally, a whisper to TMZ, get a DNA test to prove it, BAM. REVEAL. She never did that. She never said a word. Not even a whisper. And if rumors were rampant about this on any of the movie/TV/whatever sets she's worked at, you bet the gossip rags or Reddit would've blown it up. So why NOW? Why did he show up after her school assembly (!)? That first millisecond when she notices that the Cadillac is Garrett's, you can TELL she's pissed. LOVE the man, don't get me wrong, but something tells me G-Kam didn't tell her he'd be there today.'

"Smart guy," Edward commented absent-mindedly.

Unwilling to think about how much the nepo baby comment bothered me, I scrolled downwards and opened semi-interesting comment threads at random until Edward said, "Hey! That's Josh!"

"Who's Josh?"

ladywhistleup 'I'm confused about why she's going to some mediocre public school in Atlanta if she's the daughter of Garrett fucking Kamwanga?!'

Joshua M. McRory 'Fuck you too. Willie W. Smith is not the biggest, but it has a fuckload of IB courses. Competitive girl's volleyball and world-class chess. Top notch, really. We send off a senior to an Ivy league school every few years, Bella's BF included. Loads of students pretend to be from the district just to go to this school. I'm proud she goes here.'

ladywhistleup 'Whoa, touchy. All I'm saying is that can't possibly be safe for her. Imagine two thousand teenagers knowing your dad is G-Kam?! She's not going to survive going back there.'

Joshua M. McRory 'Don't call our school mediocre and I won't be 'touchy'. And she'll be fine. Her BF will kill you with his stare before he can even get close enough to numb your nerves with his handshake.'

I laughed.

"How do you know him?"

"I play chess with him. He's a good guy."

It was amazing how many aspects of Edward's life I didn't know about, but when he didn't elaborate, I kissed his forearm and kept scrolling.

Alizée Pecqueux 'why's she wearing his sunglasses? I wanna see your EYES, little aja naomi king. aren't gen z supposed to be obsessed with insta? her profile's set on private and she only has 619 followers. I wanna see more. MORE. how can I get Bella Swan to accept me?!'

plzpoisoncersei 'Aja Naomi King? Ijbol. Bffr. She's a flippin' Zendaya through and through, just look at her style. #stylegoals #buyingthatnecklace #wtfherdressissoldoutalready'

Alizée Pecqueux ' plzpoisoncersei nope. hard disagree. that photo of aja naomi king on imdb is so fucking close to garrett's daughter it ain't funny. add some acne and voila. aja naomi king, imdb version.'

GKAMisageniusfightme 'This entire argument is hilarious given that the person she resembles most is IN THE BLOODY PHOTO. YOU KNOW, GARRETT. HER FATHER. She's gorg, obvi. #jealous #gkamreveal #stillded'

littlebig689 ' Alizée Pecqueux Uglier garrett's crotch goblin is way uglier you'd think she'd cover up her acne at least looks nasty'

GKAMisageniusfightme ' littlebig689 She has FIVE PIMPLES on her cheek. FIVE. WTAF. She's a TEENAGER. Plus, do you have ANY IDEA how hard it is to find concealers for non-white skin?! (NOT THAT SHE HAS TO.) I fucking hate this world where body positivity doesn't include skin. I love that she doesn't hide it. GTFOH, little-big-whatever. I hope your next bowel movement is a porcupine.'

T. J. Takács ' GKAMisageniusfightme Don't care, I'd tap. Girl is hot AF. Come to papa.'

GKAMisageniusfightme ' T. J. Takács Back off, Delulu. She's A MINOR. Jesus.'

Alizée Pecqueux 'where do I find her movies, tho? I wanna HEAR her SPEAK. netflix, d+, hulu, NOTHING. WHY DOES NOBODY HAVE HER MOVIES?!'

I didn't realize I'd taken hold of my cheek until Edward pulled my hand away. "Hey," he said gently, nuzzling my neck. "Assholes, remember?"

"But it must be bad if—"

"No. It's not. You are forgetting rule number one of the internet, baby: everyone's an asshole. Perfectly bleached too, I'm sure."

I laughed in spite of myself but leaned my temple against his jaw, contemplating. "Do you ever wish I'd cover—"

Edward slammed my laptop closed. "That's it. No more internet for tonight."

"You're not the boss of me," I quipped, amused by his reaction.

"But what if I am?" he asked, rhetorically, eyes blazing as he pushed me on my back, cupped my head and covered me with his warm body, kissing me breathless. His hot breath on my lips set me aflame, and I lived for the tightness of his grip.

"A convincing hypothesis," I teased, my voice rough and breathy. "But a little persuasion will go a long way."

Edward growled. He switched off the lamp, threw the other side of the blanket on top of us, and then, his hard, lean body pressed against mine in an avalanche of affection. Pulling him closer and holding him harder, I felt his heartbeat through my chest and lost myself in the softness of his lips and the scent of his body. Neither of us made a sound. Feeling beautiful and invincible in his arms, I ached for him to slide down my pajama pants when I noticed a dark blue V-shaped shadow widen on the ceiling.

I froze.

Confused by my response, Edward, too, stopped moving, his hard-on poking my hip and his slightly-panting breath blowing against my cheek.

"Too fast?" he asked, voice rough and gorgeous.

"No," I whispered straight into his ear. "Riley."

With the slowest, quietest movements, Edward lowered himself on the bed beside me. The door creaked as it fell wide open, covering my ceiling with the deep blue of my star projector.

Riley's silhouette showed him gripping the doorframe.

"Edward?" he asked with a scared tremble in his voice.

"Hi buddy," Edward answered with impressive nonchalance, sitting up. "We're right here, buddy. We're not going anywhere. Are you hungry or thirsty? Cold or hot?"

Ocean waves echoed in the hallway as we waited for his response.

"I want milk."

"Of course," I joined in, sparing Edward as I slid my feet on the carpet. "Come. Let's go get some."

Giving my boyfriend time to be less visible in his pajama pants, I led Riley to the kitchen and spoke to him for a good fifteen minutes as he drank milk and ate a cookie I found. I expected him to insist on sleeping in my double bed with us, but mom joined us in the kitchen and lured Riley back to his mattress with a coloring book on her phone.

Back in the blue darkness of my star projector, we said our goodnights before I shut my door and slid back into Edward's arms. His warmth enveloped me.

I hid my embarrassed smile against his neck.

"Sorry," Edward whispered, sounding suspiciously mischievous.

"Are you?" I whispered against his ear, feeling tingly just from his firm heat against me. "Or are you sorry we got interrupted?"

The sharp breath of his laugh blew against my skin.

"I plead the fifth."

I muffled my laughter against his body but neither of us resumed our previous activities. Instead, we talked quietly until I snuggled properly against Edward's side, and his soft, grumbly, "I love you," ended our discussion before his deep, even breathing began blowing against my forehead.

…

But I couldn't sleep. I tried and tried. My brain didn't get the sleep memo, and I tried my hardest not to toss and turn but dozing off proved impossible. Based on the murmurs in my parents' bedroom when I went to the bathroom, my parents, too, were struggling.

Annoyed and thirsty at around three AM, I slid out from Edward's arms and tiptoed into the kitchen, but my stomach dropped when a dark figure moved toward me.

I slipped a knife from its holder just as the lamp above the kitchen range lit up.

"Didn't I tell you how messy knives would be?" dad asked, holding his palms up. "At least hold it like you mean it."

"Jesus." I slapped a hand on my chest and slid the knife back into its holder. "Fuck, dad. You scared me."

"It's reassuring that we'll have a murder trial to defend you instead of a burglar," dad added. "Don't worry, honey. Prisons allow postcards. We'll write to you."

I laughed. "I love you too, dad."

I poured myself a glass of water and sat down. Giving me a tired smile, dad leaned against the counter beside me and continued eating pizza. Jake, having spent the evening in a cardboard box hiding from Riley, purred as he snuggled his fluffy cheeks against our feet.

"Couldn't sleep?" dad asked.

"Yeah. It's stupid. I'm exhausted but my brain is on full alert. You?"

"Same."

We shared a bittersweet smile. Dad ate pizza. I drank water. The fridge stopped humming, leaving us, once again, with the distant sound of ocean waves in my parents' bedroom.

"I'm going to quit my job," dad said, casually, picking up another piece and sitting beside me.

"What?! Why? You love your job!"

"Quiet, sweetie." We both paused, listening if I'd woken anyone. When nothing happened, I scooted my chair away from the table to give me a view of my room's door handle. Dad spoke quietly. "Glaziers without a high school diploma don't make all that much, honey. I'll need to be available to take Riley to and from kindergarten, appointments, dentist, doctors, extracurriculars, the whole shebang. Probably a therapist, too, if we can find one. There will be a lot of paperwork to handle it all."

"I'm sure Edward wouldn't mind helping out if it means you can keep your job."

"No, honey." Dad ran his palm over his bald head. "No. That boy's been a saint with how he's handled things, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind, but your mom and I would. Edward needs… he needs to do his thing. Chess, olympiads, hobbies, friends—everything he's had to neglect, it's time to let him return to what little normalcy is left for him. He already—" Dad looked flustered when he averted his eyes. "He's done enough."

"He already—?"

"He's done enough."

"No, you were saying something else. He already—?"

Dad scoffed. He took a bite and ate it with the slowness of an infuriating man, until finally, he looked me in the eye and muttered, "He offered to pay for their stay with all of his savings."

I gaped. "No."

"Yes."

"I mean, it sounds like a thing he'd do, but please tell me you refused."

"Of course I refused, honey."

"How much does he have? Three digits? Four? Five?" Gulping, I paused. "Tell me it's not two."

Dad lifted three fingers.

"Fuck."

"Don't tell him I told you."

"I've met him, dad. I'd never."

"He thinks its a lot. It is, all things considered—he's been so frugal, so careful, honestly I think he's holding back comments when we just order take-out like you did yesterday. He'd rather eat macaroni with cheap fake cheese for a month than waste money like that."

"I know. I've noticed."

Dad held his pizza away from Jake when my gray fluff ball jumped into his lap.

"Your mom and I intend to set aside Riley's reimbursement for Edward."

"Reimbursement? What do you mean, reimbursement?"

"The money we'll get for having Riley, honey. Or did you think fostering was charity?"

"I… I guess I did. I never thought about it. So you get money for having him? How much do you get?"

"820 a month. More for the first month. Presuming that Riley's mom goes to jail and that we'll get to keep him for now, we could round it up to a thousand per month and set it aside for Edward's college until September. Six thousand will not be much, but even he'd have to admit it's fair for the time he had Riley without getting any help with him. We'll spend an equal if not bigger amount on Riley, and that's the way it should be now that we finally have enough to do that."

I adored how much my parents wanted to help Edward. I wished I could've set aside half a million for him, too. He'd deserve it.

"He'll fight you."

"I don't care." Dad allowed Jake to lick his fingers after he was done with his pizza. "It's time, honey. Even if Edward's aunt gets out within weeks and Riley will go back to her, your mom and I would like to help other children, and I need a flexible schedule for that. You also still need us on set until you're eighteen, and your mom cannot be in two places at once."

"But I'm sixteen."

"Except your working hours, sixteen in the entertainment industry means jack-shit, sweetie—unless you pass the CHSPE. Or did you forget?"

I did forget. I facepalmed.

"Mom will never let me take the exam even if Edward preps me perfectly."

Dad's lips disappeared behind his beard with his smile. "And I agree with her. Don't rush to get a high school diploma just to get rid of us on set and earn the right to work overtime. You'll have your whole life to break your back, and it would mean the world to Renée if you at least earned the credits for a hypothetical college, one day."

I yawned through a half-smile. "What if I don't go to college? Will you disown me?"

"Yes, sweetie, we'll love you even if you ask stupid questions."

I muffled my laughter.

"You don't have to push through high school if it all becomes too much, honey. That's not what we want. You are allowed to drop out, and we'll support you if you do. Even Renée will come around eventually. Our concern is purely that… you never know what can happen in life. If something takes your voice, or you suffer an injury, or anything at all prevents you from finishing the six- or seven-year deal we anticipate for you… money doesn't grow on trees even if it might feel like that for you. It's out of concern for your own sake that we hope you'll finish high school with enough credits to consider college, should you ever get bored, or should anything happen to us or yourself. That's all."

"I understand."

I curled my legs against my chest and wrapped arms around them. Dad yawned, supporting Jake's butt as he prepared to stand up.

"Before you go, dad—remember our trip to Edward's gramps's place tomorrow? We were thinking that, with Riley here, we should postpone it."

"Don't do that."

"But it's okay. We can go next weekend when Riley is more settled."

"No, honey," dad replied. "Riley relies on Edward too much. It's sweet of you to be concerned, but Riley needs an opportunity to bond with us. I think it would be good for him to spend time with us, just us. We'll take him to the zoo and out to eat and see his father on Sunday. It'll be fun."

"But what if he cries the whole time?"

Dad gave me an expression that implied my uncomprehending stupidity. "If your mom and I were scared of a little temper tantrum we would've put you up for adoption many years ago."

"Very funny, dad. Hilarious."

Shaking his head, dad smiled. "The boy needs consistency and love. We'll be fine."

"Are you only okay with us going because Edward told you that we'd be sleeping in his grampa's living room?"

Dad's eyes glinted with amusement. "It certainly didn't discourage me."

I was about to quip my response when dad noticed that it was 3:40 AM. Our alarm was set for 5 AM.

We shut off the lights and said our goodnights before I sneaked back into my room and listened intently for any sign of Edward having woken up and overheard our (admittedly quiet) conversation. His breathing was slow and even, more so than he (hopefully) could've faked it, and I melted against his warmth when he squeezed me closer against his body and lifted his thigh over my hips, breathing against my ear. Giddy but exhausted, I kissed his forearm and willed my brain to shut up.

…