Why? Cause I was curious when it happened.

The chapter will explain what that vague reason is.

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D.C. was beginning to enter the day, the sunlight glinting off rooftops and pouring into windows, but Kennedy noticed none of this, she was glaring at her reflection. It was glaring back at her with just as much force. Her school uniform fit her body but it did nothing to define her body.

Harrison's words from the previous day ran rampant in her mind, deepening the glare.

They had been walking to class when a fellow freshman had sauntered by, the uniform doing for her what it was not doing for Kennedy. Harrison's eyes had lingered on the girl. When he had turned back to Kennedy, he had said something that almost lost him his head.

"When are you going to start looking like a girl?"

Kennedy let out a huff of air and lifted her arms then dropped them, letting them hit her sides. She was a girl. Just a fourteen-year-old girl with nothing to show for in the development department. Though she was fit - thanks to her parents, there were no curves to her to show off this fact.

Muttering curses at Harrison and his stupid comment, Kennedy finally exchanged the khakis pants for a navy skirt. The change displayed her lean legs, but Kennedy still felt they looked lanky instead of attractive. Before she eventually punched the mirror in frustration, she grabbed her backpack and left her room.

In the kitchen, her mother was leaning against the counter, one ankle crossed over the other, doing the crossword and sipping coffee. She wore a pair of battered Converses, a pair of jeans and her husband's large sweatshirt.

Still, there was a self-assurance about her that made Kennedy think that even if she were to show up to the White House dressed like that she would be shown respect. Kennedy wondered when that confidence gene was going to kick in for her.

"You ready to go, Cadet?" Carter asked without looking up.

Kennedy sighed. "Yeah."

At the tone, Carter raised her head.

"You're wearing a skirt. That's new."

Kennedy peered down at it, holding out the edges as if she wasn't sure if it had been a good decision after all. Carter smiled.

"Are you wearing shorts underneath it?"

Kennedy nodded.

"It looks cute," she said.

"Yeah?"

Carter set down her mug and nodded. "It also offers a good range of motion so if any guy tries to look under it, you can drop-kick him."

Despite Harrison and his stupidness, Kennedy smiled. Carter waved a hand towards the door. She snatched the keys from the hook and Kennedy scampered forward.

"I saw some of the older girls wearing skirts and high heels," she said.

After locking the door, Carter wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders.

"The thing about high heels," she said. "Is that there are pros and cons to them. Pro - they make your legs look amazing. Also, they can be a convenient weapon if need be." She hit the down button for the elevator. "Con - they are hard to run in without a lot of practice, they pinch your feet and you can hurt an ankle if you're not careful."

The doors dinged and slid open, allowing the pair to step into the fabric-lined box. Kennedy rested against the cushioned surface, regarding her mother. In the enclosed space, she could smell her mother's subtle perfume, a gift from Kennedy's father.

"I never see you wear heels. Have you ever?" she asked.

Carter laughed. It was a laugh that held memories and annoyances.

"I have. The first time was for your aunt Maddy's wedding. It is only because I love her and your uncle Link that I agreed. I try to avoid it when I can."

"But that wasn't your only time, was it?"

"No."

Kennedy perked up seeing an opportunity for a chance to hear a story.

"What was the longest time you've ever had to wear heels?" she asked.

At the question, Carter's gaze drifted off, her eyes clouding over with a memory. When she focused back on Kennedy, there was something distant and sad in her eyes. The look was so strange on her mother, that Kennedy felt she had said something wrong. Though it wasn't as light as before, Carter smiled, easing Kennedy's worries.

"There was one time I had to wear heels for three months for an undercover job," she said.

The pull of knowing more about her mother's past was too strong to resist and so Kennedy asked for more.

"What was it for?"

Again there was a flicker of something in her mother's eyes.

"I was undercover as a waitress in a night club. My cover name was Celeste."

The name was as hard to imagine for her mother as was the image of her mother working in a night club.

"What happened?" Kennedy asked, scenes of takedowns and drug busts filling her mind.

Carter shrugged as if the whole occasion was of no importance.

"We caught the bad guy," she said.

The answer was less than Kennedy wished for, but before she could ask for more details, the elevator arrived at the lobby and the doors parted. The glass front of the building shimmered with the morning, prisms of light tumbling in the air as they approached the doors. Outside the air was crisp, but not enough that Kennedy regretted her choice of wardrobe. The chaos of city noises bloomed in the air, the citizens of D.C. greeting the day with vigor.

Carter tossed the car keys up and down as the pair headed towards the silver Mercedes parked on the curb. They were a few feet away when a figure jumped out of nowhere and darted for them.

In a blink, the keys were once there and then gone.

Before Kennedy had time to gasp, Carter snatched the hood of the thief and jerked them back. In one breathless move, she flipped them onto their back, bent down, broke their wrist, and retrieved the keys from their fist.

"Get a job," she said to the moaning figure. "It will hurt less." Looking up at Kennedy, she waved her forward. "Come on, Cadet, we don't want you to be late."

Kennedy wasn't sure she could walk, shock freezing her mind. But of their own accord, her legs propelled her forward. As she passed the thief, she glanced at them. They were clenching their wrist. Again Kennedy was struck by how effortless her mother did everything and Kennedy feared she would have none of that.

As they drove, Carter didn't talk about what happened, instead she quizzed Kennedy with questions for her science test that day. It was as if the incident was so unremarkable that it warranted no further discussion.

When they pulled up to the front of the school, Kennedy pushed the door open. Exhaust fumes snuck into the pine-scented interior.

"Good luck on your test," Carter said. "If you want we can go and buy you a pair of heels after school."

Kennedy thought about it but then looked at the pair of battered Converses her mother wore and replayed the scene of her mother taking down the thief.

"I'm good. Converses work fine."

Carter smiled, the looked filled with warm affection.

"I love you, Cadet," she said.

"I love you too."

Kennedy closed the door and headed up the stairs, hearing the car retreat behind her. When she managed to push through the mass of students to where her locker was, she spotted Harrison leaning beside it, staring at his phone.

The annoyance of the previous day was reignited and she walked over to him. Without looking at him, she put in her locker combination. If he noticed her presence, he made no sign of it, which further aggravated Kennedy. Her mother would have most likely caused every head to turn and most conversations to stop just as she walked past, but Kennedy's best friend couldn't even bother to say hello.

Too caught up in her frustrations and the questions of why she was even friends with the idiot, she didn't hear as a guy in the grade above her approached.

"Nice legs, Kennedy," he said. "Want me to show you what you can do with them?"

At the implied suggestion, she just rolled her eyes, too annoyed with Harrison to bother with someone else's idiocy at the moment. When she gave no response, the guy focused on Harrison.

"What, Harrison? You're not going to defend your girlfriend's honor?" the guy mocked.

At this Kennedy finally looked at Harrison. He glanced up at her then at the sophomore with a one-track mind.

"No, she's not my girlfriend," he said. He shrugged. "Besides she could beat the crap out of you without my help." He threw the guy a toothy grin. "I'm just here to look pretty."

In that moment, all of Kennedy's grievances with Harrison vanished. It was more than the words that were the reason, it was the complete conviction of their truth that mattered. It was as if he saw her like she saw her mother, able to do anything.

Her heart hiccuped and she was jolted with how much this doofus meant to her.

Behind her, the sophomore scoffed. "Harrison you're such a fa-"

Kennedy spun around and decked the guy in the face. He stumbled back clutching his nose, his eyes watering in pain. Scowling, he stormed off. When Kennedy looked at Harrison, his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

"What was that for?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I was defending your honor."

Harrison burst out laughing and Kennedy was reminded of how much she liked that sound. He grinned at her.

"Best friends," he said, holding out his hand.

Kennedy took it, ignoring the way it felt somehow different than the thousands of times she had held it before.

"In every fight," she promised.

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I'm coming for you!

(Why? I don't know, did you steal my ice cream because then you've found your reason 😠)

All right, we got some Carter being awesome and the start of something between Kennedy and Harrison!

What did you think? 💬💭🗯

Be honest, who was surprised that Carter actually was willing to buy her daughter high heels! Gosh what a change!

So go ahead! What suggestions do you have for Kennedy one shots? A baby, toddler, kid, teenager? I want to hear what you got!

Again I'm sorry and I hope you understand why I have to do this. I appreciate all your support!

Even though I'm the worst I hope you'll still vote, comment, and follow!