"Mr. Miranda, we're gonna need you to come pick up your daughter right away," the principal of Hunter College High School told me over the phone. "She's blocking traffic."

I sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of my nose. This is not what I needed today.

"What's she protesting now?" I asked, knowing my daughter all too well.

"The fact she can't be on the football team," Dr. Fisher informed me. "She showed up to tryouts and was told she wasn't eligible."

My headstrong kid, Josephine, had mentioned something about this in passing this morning. She'd always been a bit of a tomboy, into sports her whole life. Now that she was a freshman in the high school, more sports were available. She's already been on the soccer and softball teams, but apparently that's not good enough.

Joey doesn't even like football. She only wants to do it because she's been told she can't. Typical Joey.

"I'll be right there," I told the principal, and pressed end on my phone. I stood up at the coffee shop I'd been working at and pulled on my coat. I rode the subway down to the high school and as I emerged from the station, I could hear Joey's voice loud and clear on a bullhorn.

"We will not put up with Hunter College High School's sexual discrimination against girls in sports!" she touted, surrounded by a small group of about ten other girls. She was standing on a box in the middle of the street, horns honking at her. I sighed and approached.

"Tell Dr. Fisher the school board needs to change its policy!" she continued, amongst cheers from her classmates. "Allow girls to play football!"

I stood on the sidewalk, hands in my jeans pockets, and just watched for a minute, my eyebrows crinkled in puzzlement. Where did she get this brazenness from? Well, her mother was a lawyer, which probably didn't help.

Some cabbie rolled down his window and poked his head out. "Hey! People got places to be!"

"You're a white male! You have nothing in your way!" she reminded him loudly. I rolled my eyes and cupped my hands over my mouth.

"Josephine Miranda! Get down before your principal calls the police!" I shouted at her. She looked at me, disappointed. Like I was being unreasonable. I raised my eyebrows, giving her a really look.

"Call Dr. Fisher's office and tell him how you feel! Miranda, out!" she finished, then jumped down from the box. Her friends clapped her on the back as they cleared the area on the street. Joey ignored me, immediately meeting with her friends in a circle, planning their next step. My daughter was nothing if not organized and persistent. If Dr. Fisher thought this was the end of it, he was sorely mistaken.

Speaking of Dr. Fisher, he appeared at the bottom of the steps, looking displeased.

"Josephine, my office, now," he requested. I made eye contact with him and he motioned for me to join them. Joey trailed behind us, lugging her massive backpack, as we made our way back into the building. We walked through the halls and into his office, where he shut the door.

"Please, take a seat," he motioned to the chairs in front of his massive desk. Even though I was no longer a student here, there was an intimidation factor. "Josephine, while I can appreciate your efforts to protest, there is a line to be drawn between speaking up and the safety of our students. Today, you crossed that line."

"Dr. Fisher," she jumped right in, looking confident, "It would not have been necessary if Coach Litton had allowed me and three other girls to try out for the football team."

"There are ways to protest, Miss Miranda," he said. "And blocking traffic in front of the school is not one of them. Any one of you could have been hit by a car."

"We were being very careful," she said.

"Accidents still happen, and the school would be liable if any of you got hurt," Dr. Fisher reminded her.

"Speaking of accidents, were you aware that Elliott Soo was intentionally tripping the females trying out for football?" she asked indignantly.

"I was not aware of that," Dr. Fisher said. "I will speak to Mr. Soo about that."

"While you're at it, could you ban him from the debate team?" she added.

"I can do no such thing," he said, using his mouse to click on something. "What I can do is give you two after school detentions for your actions today. You'll serve them tomorrow and Thursday. Also, you are one detention away now from an in-school suspension."

She sighed out and slouched a little, but seemed unfazed. I looked at her, confused.

"When have you gotten other detentions?" I asked her, and she shrugged.

Dr. Fisher examined his computer. "Two for butting heads with her Social Studies teacher."

I gave her a look, but wasn't surprised. She was opinionated to say the least.

"Just to let you know, I plan to go to the school board about the football situation," she said as she stood up. "We'll be fighting tooth and nail."

He chuckled humorlessly and stood up to shake my hand. "Thanks for the heads up. We'll see you tomorrow for detention."

I followed Joey out of the office and then the front door. She walked confidently a few steps ahead, her dark hair bouncing in the Fall sunlight. Her phone came out of her pocket and soon her thumbs were flying.

"Dad, can you retweet what I just tweeted?" she asked, hoping to use my fame for her cause.

"I will do no such thing," I told her, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. "Joey. Stop."

She stopped, but kept her eyes on her phone. "Dad? Why not?"

"This is your business, not mine," I told her. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, her eyes met mine. "You can protest, but you can't be doing it in the middle of the street. Got it?"

She sighed and nodded.

"Alright. Let's go home."

The next day, my phone buzzed in my pocket with a call as I walked down the street to a meeting. I checked the caller ID and saw it was Philippa Soo, my former castmate. Shit.

"Hey," I greeted her as cheerfully as I could.

"Hi," she said shortly. "I got a phone call from the principal today. He said Elliott was tripping the girls who were trying out for the football team. When I questioned him, he said it was in retaliation for your daughter and her friends putting itching powder in their jock straps."

I suppressed a laugh. That was hilarious. Elliott was a sophomore at Hunter, where Joey also went, and they were far from friends, just like their parents.

"Itching powder?" I asked. "Wow. Ummm...is he okay?"

"It washed off in the shower, luckily," she said. "But it was very uncomfortable. Elliott has a detention because of the tripping. Can you please tell your daughter to stay away from my son?"

I scoffed at that. Her son was just as much to blame as my daughter was. "I will, as long as you tell Elliott to stay away from Joey."

"Consider it done," she said shortly. "Goodbye."

She hung up before I could and I tucked my phone away. We had bad blood between us after the initial run of Hamilton. We'd been best friends for a while, but then her troubled younger brother had tried out for the part of Hercules Mulligan in Chicago. He was a talented guy, but he just wasn't right for the part. Because of the rejection, he'd attempted suicide. Pippa blamed it on me.

At home that evening, Joey walked in, singing softly to herself with her earbuds in as I cooked us dinner. She took them out as she set her stuff down and took off her shoes.

"How was debate club?" I asked her.

"Great," she answered, pulling her hair up in a bun. "I destroyed everyone as usual."

"Speaking of destroying," I said. "I got a call from Elliott's mom."

She bit her lip as she messed with her hair. "Itching powder?"

She tried to suppress a laugh but failed. "Come on, it was hilarious."

"Hilarious or not, that could have harmed someone," I reminded her, though Elliott probably deserved it. He could be a bit of a punk. "Did you get a detention for that?"

"Yes," she said reluctantly.

"So that means you have in-school suspension now, right?" I checked.

"Yep," she said like it was nothing. "A whole day to work without interruption. It'll be great."

Joey was the definition of an overachiever. She was in four AP classes and pulled straight A's. Currently, she was in the top ten of her class. Schoolwork was never something I had to get onto her about.

I sighed. "Dinner will be ready in ten," I told her. "Afterwards, I want you to call Elliott and apologize."

"What?!" she practically screamed. "I am NOT apologizing."

"You are," I countered. "That was low, Josephine. I expect more from you."

"What about what he did? Him and his stupid friends are trying to keep us off the team. They're sexist."

"Maybe so, but they certainly didn't deserve to have their jock straps sabotaged," I told her, and she burst out laughing again. I eyed her with a warning look.

"Sorry," she pressed her lips together. "Is he going to apologize to me too?"

"If he's a gentleman," I figured. She let out a snort.

"So, no," she said. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

____

After dinner, Joey did the dishes and I pulled out my laptop to do some work. As I was pulling up my email, my phone rang again and I prayed it wasn't Pippa. An unknown number, so I let it go to voicemail.

Joey dried her hands on the towel and started to go back to her room.

"Sit down," I told her. "I wanna hear you make that phone call."

She rolled her eyes and pulled out her cell phone, reluctantly dialing up Elliott's number. Joey folded her other arm and slouched as she waited for him to answer.

"Hi," she said in an unfriendly. "It's Joey. Sorry for putting itching powder in your jock strap."

She listened, her eyebrows furrowed, as he said something to her. "Well, it was extra small, so it didn't take a whole lot of powder."

I spurted a laugh and covered my mouth. Joey could be a firecracker.

"And do you have anything to say to me?" she prompted him. She waited, looking annoyed. "Yeah, well fuck you. Good night."

I sighed and shook my head. "Language, child," I chided her as she stood up.

"Done," she said. "I'm gonna go do homework."

Joey disappeared to her room, where I heard music coming from a few moments later. She could concentrate better with music on, so I allowed it. The kid had a 4.0 grade point average, so it must be working.

My phone buzzed with a new voicemail message. I picked it up and opened up the message, resting my phone against my ear.

"Mr. Miranda, I'm Mrs. Kelly with the Department of Social Services. I need to speak with you as soon as possible. It's urgent. Please call me back at..."

I jotted down the number, my eyebrows furrowed. "Was Pippa pressing charges or something?"

I immediately called back and the call changed my life forever.