*generic text message ping*

*throat clearing*

Look, you little shit. I am not cute. I am far from cute. I will fight you to the death on this, Luciel, and I'm more stubborn. Trust me. And did you have to hack into my dad's files to get a picture of me smiling? It doesn't change how I feel. I hate my smile, even if you don't. Now I'm just going to think you're lying to make me feel better. God, that sounded sad. Forget I said that! I'm fine, I swear.

*another text message ping*

Jesus Christ on a bike, Dad, what do you want? Okay, he's just sending me funny memes he's discovered online. I told him about you, and now he's "refining his jokes" to "beat the competition." Did I make the air quotes clear enough there? Well, either way, this is your doing, and I'll be forwarding them to you to make you suffer with me.

Hey, after this is over, what will happen to us? I mean, are we going to be able to hang out like normal friends or are you going to continue to be a mysterious hermit? Not that it's your fault. You're a secret agent, after all, I was just wondering. I'd like to hang out with you is what I'm failing to say. Maybe go get ice cream sometime when the weather gets warmer. Or head to a pool to hang out.

Oh my gosh, that reminds me of the time my dad and I went to a water park! It was simultaneously embarrassing and one of the best days of my life, and I'm going to tell you about it because you said you enjoyed my sorry attempt at conversation through an audio file and you wanted more. It's too late for you to escape now, you've dug your grave.

I'd just gotten this new two-piece--my dad would die if I ever bought a bikini--and I was so excited to wear it. I don't remember too much about it except that it had ruffles, and you'll see why I mention that in a sec.

Picture this: it's like thirty-two degrees out, and we're by the wave pool trying to find some seats. My dad probably had some ridiculous Hawaiian print swim trunks and a terrible t-shirt tan, and I was most likely walking three feet behind him because I was at that age where I needed him to get to places but was embarrassed to be seen with him. Stupid as hell, I know, but what can I say? I was a "cool" thirteen-year-old.

So we finally manage to get two lounge chairs a fair distance from the pool, and I was slathering on sunscreen because I inherited my mom's pale skin that burns so quickly. I was trying to be super quick because I was really excited to go on all the slides and other rides there, but my dad was taking forever and so I just kind of left him behind and went exploring. Looking back on it, I probably scared the hell out of him, just disappearing like that. But I was young and impatient and only cared about myself in that way middle schoolers do. Let's be honest with ourselves for a second, most middle schoolers suck. They grow out of it, but they aren't peak specimens of human kindness and decency at that age.

Anyway, I think I was by these insanely tall, white water slides when I ran into some of my classmates from school. And let's just say they weren't exceptions to the whole "middle schoolers suck" thing I mentioned. They weren't the stereotypical movie bullies, the type that throw punches and shove kids into lockers and such, but they weren't angels. They spread nasty rumors and ganged up on outcasts and were generally little terrors. And as I refused to be a part of that sort of bullshit, they hated me.

They started making fun of my swimsuit, calling the ruffles childish and saying how chubby I looked in it. I don't remember everything, but I do know it was enough to make me cry, and I don't like crying in public. I didn't fight back, though. I didn't know how to stand up for myself properly yet. I just stood there and furiously blinked away my tears as they continued their mild insults that kids use before they learn swear words.

But while I didn't do anything, my dad did. He came up behind them with two root beer floats he'd probably just got and promptly dumped them over the group's heads. They started freaking out, shrieking and trying to wipe the stuff out of their eyes, and my dad just stood there with his hands, which were still holding the empty cups in case you wanted the mental picture, on his hips and glaring. I think they figured out he was my dad pretty quick--I may have gotten my mom's skin and eyes, but I got my dad's hair and facial features--because they cleared off pretty fast. It's always shocking how tough those types of people can be until they're faced with adults.

As soon as they were gone, I flung myself at my dad. I didn't care that we were in public, I didn't care that I was soaking wet, I was just so happy that he'd helped me. He laughed and picked me up, spinning me around, and any other time I would have tried to worm out because I was much too old for that, but he'd just dumped ice cream and soda on the heads of the people who'd been bothering me all year, and I was thrilled.

And do you know what the first thing he said to me was? "We get free refills on these, so might as well put them to good use." Haha! And that's the story of how I never considered my dad uncool again, and how root beer floats became my favorite summertime dessert.

Was that entertaining? I'm not great this yet, but I'll keep it up if you want me to. I still don't understand why you like my voice, as I think it's akin to a cat dying, but if it helps you focus on your work and not be murdered by the super shady people in your agency, I guess I'll do my part to keep you alive. I enjoy talking to you, so I wouldn't want you to die before I get to know you. Um, I'm not sure how I should end this audio file, so I'm not going to. I'm just going to stop it. I'm totally experienced with this sort of stuff.

Aaaah, I'm so insecure about my writing, and this is why I have such bad writer's block all the time, which is why I never publish. I'm probably so insecure because the last time I wrote in the first person was in sixth grade, and it was so bad I printed out a copy and burned it with my friends for s'mores, which is the best use I could think for it. I'm not joking. The s'mores were delicious. :)

~ Avie