2103:10:20:10:10:25

  The ride to Millie’s house was quiet. Like me, she lived in Northside, albeit further to the south and west, on the other side of the Hoquiam River. It would’ve been easy to take a bus that way – there was a direct connection between the bus stop near Millie’s home and the one I went to in order to go to school – but for some reason, Mom decided to take me by car. She said she’d planned something with some of her own friends – a ‘fun daytrip’ to Little Europe – but that would make going by car even more inconvenient, so that didn’t track.

  I found it wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet, though. It was just unusual for Mom not to talk to me when we were alone, and I wasn’t used to being the one to start conversations whenever I was with her. Nor did I want to. The quiet suited me just fine, even with Mom’s questionable taste in old synthpop playing in the background.

  Before long, we pulled up next to Millie’s house. It wasn’t quite a mansion, but it was certainly larger and more expensive-looking than my home. It had one more story than mine, more floorspace at every one, and both a yard in front and the back of the house. Millie’s house was closer to Bayside, next to the Hoquiam River, and had good public transit connections while also far away enough to avoid the noise, meaning space was already at a premium.

  I grabbed Mom’s duffle bag I’d borrowed from between my legs and opened the door, my mom doing the same – minus the bag – on the driver side. I put the bag on my shoulder and together, we walked up to the front door. Mom rang the bell and almost immediately, the door opened.

  The woman opening it – presumably Millie’s mother – looked very little like her daughter. Her hair was a light brown – a color it shared with her eyes – wavy, and quite a bit longer compared to Millie’s blond and straight hair.

  Still, what she lacked in physical resemblance, she made up for in personality. “Hello, and hello! You must be Samantha, right?” she said, smiling as she stared right at me.

  I stretched out my hand for a handshake and introduced myself. “Good morning Mrs. Brown. I’m Samantha Pearsson. It’s good to meet.”

  She took my hand and shook it vigorously. “Always nice meeting another of my daughter’s friends and gosh, what a polite friend! Always good to have another – I feared Jolie’d get overworked!” She let go of my hand and looked over at my mom, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And how nice of your sister to bring you!”

  “That’s my mom,” I corrected. I suspected it was a joke, but it was better to make sure.

  Both mothers laughed – confirming my suspicions – and went to shake hands. “Kati Pearsson. Nice to meet you in person, and thank you for playing host.”

  “Juniper Brown, and don’t worry about it. If I’d said no, God only knows what Millie would’ve done,” Millie’s mom said with a put-upon sigh.

  A door somewhere above loudly slammed closed, and the woman turned her head and looked over her shoulder. “Speaking of which…”

  We followed her gaze as the slamming door was quickly followed by the sounds of rapid footsteps, stomping down the stairs with little care as to the noise it caused, only the speed. Within no time at all, Millie’s head appeared atop the staircase, bending over to glimpse at the entrance through the gaps between the wooden bannisters.

  The moment she spotted me, Millie smiled and ran down the next flight of stairs as well, jumping the last couple of steps, lifting her arms like a gymnast completing a routine. I clapped politely as she tried to say, “Hiya Sa-”

  “Millie,” Mrs. Brown said, her serious tone at odds with her previous demeanor. “What did I say about you running up and down the stairs?”

  “Not to do it,” Millie replied happily. She put down her arms and skipped toward me. Her mom rolled her eyes and let out a weary sigh. “C’mon Sam. Saga’s already upstairs,” Millie said.

  She moved to grab my hand and drag me upstairs, but right before she could, Mrs. Brown hooked her arm around her and dragged Millie into a bear hug. She ruffled her daughter’s hair with a vigor that made me wince. Millie flailed her arms around in protest, spluttering as long strands of hair kept falling into her mouth.

  “What karma do I have to deserve such a rude daughter,” Mrs. Brown said, “Really, you should learn more from your friends.”

  “Mom!” Millie protested, scowling as she struggled free and went to fix the hair her mom had messed up. Seems the plight of teenage daughters with overbearing mothers was universal.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “If you don’t want me to embarrass you in front of your friends, don’t do things you know you shouldn’t,” Mrs. Brown said. “Also, let your friend say goodbye to her mother before you drag them into your den, especially when it’s the first time they’ve spent a weekend apart.” Millie begrudgingly accepted.

  It hadn’t really gotten through to me that this was our first weekend spend apart, at least from Mom’s perspective. I’ve spend every weekend and generally two of every weekday since I got Crowsong to be my mentor going out during the long nights, so for me it wasn’t that unusual. Also, just nighttime in general was time where I was awake and alone. Masking didn’t take up the entire night, after all.

  But Mom didn’t know that, of course. From her perspective, I’d spend most of my days at school, at home or in her company.

  “You sure you got everything?” Mom asked – there was indeed worry there. As with every time she asked before we left home, I nodded affirmatively in response. “If you need anything, or everything becomes too much, or you just want to talk – really, for any reason at all, just call. Okay?”

  If I needed something, wouldn’t it be easier to get it myself? Home was maybe half an hour away at most, and that’s including the walk to and from the bus.

  Nevertheless, I said, “Okay.”

  She looked me deep in the eyes for a second, then went in for a hug and a kiss on the top of my head. I accepted graciously – even if it required me to, like Millie, fix my hair after. She released me and, with one hand ruffling my hair, said, “Alright. Go have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Having finally received permission, Millie grabbed my arm and dragged me upstairs towards her room.

  Her room was strangely minimalist when compared to her personality. There were the standard things like a bed, desk, dresser and closet, along with a large wall-mounted flatscreen plus a couch and low table, but for the rest there was little decorations. There were old medals and trophies on shelves – for what sport, I didn’t know – a rainbow rug with the colors circling inward, and a shelf with knickknacks and souvenir-type stuff, but that was it. Unlike my room, there were no plushies, no posters, and most of her stuff was white, including the walls and ceiling, while the floor was either wood or laminate.

  Saga was lying on the couch, gazing at the flatscreen while eating from the pile of snacks and drinks covering the table.

  Saga’s eyes turned to me as the door opened, and she waved lazily in greeting. “Hey Sam,” she said, moving to make place on the couch next to her. “Come, sit here.”

  I turned to Millie, “Where can I-?”

  She waved to a corner next to the window on the opposite end of the door, where another duffle bag sat. “Just throw it over there.” Millie went to the couch, though settled on the rug in front of it instead of on the couch itself.

  I did as told and dumped my bag before sitting next to Saga. “Jolie’ll be here at around eleven or something,” Saga told, unprompted. “She’s got music lessons till ten.”

  “She plays music?” I asked. She hadn’t mentioned that for as far as I could recall.

  “Saxophone,” Saga replied, taking a bite of her salted pretzel. “Jazz and stuff like that.”

  Millie, seeing my raised eyebrows at the revelation, jumped in. “She doesn’t like to talk about it at school and only rarely with us. Gets embarrassed for some reason, even though she’s really good at it. Even goes to recitals and competitions and stuff.”

  I frowned. “Should you be telling me this if she doesn’t like it?”

  But Millie waved it off. “It’s not that serious. She just, like, doesn’t like to bring it up herself, but she sometimes invites us to her performances, so she can’t be that embarrassed about it. She’s just very serious about the saxophone, but as teens we’re mandated by law not to care about things.”

  “She got bullied for it a bit in middle school,” Saga jumped in, sounding a bit too casually.

  Millie and I blinked at that. “Wait, for real?” Millie asked. “When?”

  “Sixth grade. About a year before you joined,” Saga answered.

  “And you’re sure you can tell us this?” I asked.

  Saga shrugged. “It wasn’t like the bullying lasted long, not after I beat the snot out of the kid that started it. It’s how we became friends in the first place.” She smiled at the memory before continuing. “Besides, I think she kinda just forgot to tell Millie. Or never got the opportunity or something like that. And you definitely aren’t the bullying type, so I doubt she’ll mind.”

  I accepted the compliment in the way it was given: with a shrug.

  Saga scratched her chin in consideration. “But she did stop talking about it after that happened, so it might’ve been more serious than I thought.” The contemplation didn’t last long though, as she shrugged shortly after. “Oh well. I’ll apologize if she’s bothered I told you. I doubt I’ll need to though.”

  The room was silent for a moment but for the sound of the action series Saga left rolling. It looked like a fun show, and the fight choreography looked decently real as well from my experience…

  “Oh, right!” Millie said with a clap all of the sudden, startling me. “We’ve been making plans for today and so far we got, like, mall and shopping and going to the beach and whatever we can find there, but is there something you’d like to do?”

  I thought it over, but, “I don’t know. I don’t really have that many things I like.”

  “Really?” Saga said, scrunching her brow. “What do you do in your free time?”

  I shrugged. “Mostly studying, looking things up online, watching and reading the news. It can be pretty fun to browse Wikipedia.” And training for and going out masking, but obviously I couldn’t tell them that.

  “That’s it? What about all the stuff you told us you did over the weekends? Didn’t you like any of that?” Saga asked, surprised. An odd whine came from Millie’s corner.

  I considered it. Mom and I watched movies, went to museums, or did some kind of sport or tried some other form of exercise. Other times, we just went to the park or did something at home, like the time we did a whole noon of baking.

  “I never really thought about it,” I said honestly. “It was fun, but I can’t say if I liked it just on its own like that.” It always felt like it was something I did for Mom, not for myself. I wondered how Mom would feel if she knew that.

  “Oh my God, that’s sooooo sad,” Millie said, sounding almost horrified despite the odd way she said it. Saga also looked genuinely sad at my comments, making me feel worse. Seems I misstepped somewhere.

  Then Millie steeled her look and stared me deep in the eyes. “You know what, when we’re at the mall and the beach, you’ll tell us when you see something that interests you and we’re gonna do that, no matter what you pick. Alright?”

  Millie’s intense focus on me made me somewhat uncomfortable, but when I tried to escape it by imploring Saga for help, she had a similar look in her eyes. It seemed they were in agreement on this issue.

  “Alright,” I relented with a sigh.

  Millie squealed and jumped up, diving for the couch in order to hug me. “This is going to be great!” she said, all but shaking in renewed excitement. Saga laughed and jumped atop the pile, joining in on the fun. If I weren’t an android, I’d be gasping for air.

  It was at this moment Jolie suddenly walked in, guided upstairs by Millie’s mom. All of us had apparently missed the bell and Mrs. Brown had an annoyed look on her face as the door opened, though it quickly melted after seeing what Millie was doing.

  Jolie thanked Mrs. Brown while we remained frozen at the intrusion, then turned to us as the door closed behind me. “What did I miss?”

  “You would not believe what she just told us!” Millie said, sounding far too excited to spill the proverbial beans and/or tea.

  I did get some revenge by telling what Saga and Millie told me about her, and Jolie helped by overexaggerating how mad she was at them. Very satisfying.