THE DANGEROUS MAFIA KING AND HIS SUPPOSED SLAVE

Wednesday, 7th of September

For the fourth time today, I'm forced to stand in front of the class with a seemingly bright smile. I can't believe they still make people do this. I take a deep breath before introducing myself to faces I'm beginning to recognise.

"Hi there." I awkwardly wave. "I'm Christine Beckley. I recently moved from Brisbane, Australia. I love surfing, reading, and cooking."

I glance at the teacher, and she smiles, so I hurry to my desk and lower myself into the chair. The teacher takes my place with a warm and eager grin.

It's the first genuine smile I've seen all day. The administration lady was grumpy, most likely stressed from the first day of school, and then our math teacher seemed to hate life even more when I told him how beautiful the beaches were. I get it-this town is small and gloomy compared to the beaches on the Gold Coast.

I understand, it was only last week that I stood on the beach covered in sand and sea salt. Now, I'm in a classroom halfway across the world, filled with weird customs I think I'll never understand, and people gawking at my accent.

Sometimes I think I'm speaking English, but the way they look at me, perhaps I'm speaking gibberish?

"We'll be learning the basics of photography so that we can cover school events."

The woman holds a camera and explains how it works. My mind wanders to the beach. I miss sand under my toes, the smell of salt water, and the sun on my cheeks.

I'd do anything to catch a wave or two.

When Dad mentioned moving to America, I begged for somewhere on the coast, but no, he wanted to return to his hometown in the middle of freaking nowhere.

When the school bell rings, I realise I've spent the whole lesson daydreaming.

I collect my things and wander to the cafeteria, which is different. I'm not hungry, so I bypass the line and head outside where it's quiet.

I take a seat at the empty picnic table and laugh at the students scrambling to find seats inside. The sun heats my cheeks, and if I close my eyes, I could pretend I'm standing on the beach.

That illusion is shattered by someone yelling.

"Hey you, yes you," a boy calls as he races over. "This table is reserved for the football team!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry." I scramble to my feet. "I'm new here."

As I grab my bag, another student shoves the first boy out of the way. He topples to the ground and shoots them a glare.

"Don't listen to that idiot." He sighs. "You're the new chick, the one from Australia?"

"Uh." I look at the guy on the floor, then back at him. "Yes, that's me, I'm Christine."

"Is Christine a nickname for Charlotte?"

"No, just Christine."

"Oh, hm!" He sighs. "I'm Arthur, and that's George, he's a little entitled."

"I am not!" George grumbles.

"Okay." Arthur laughs. "He's very entitled."

"I'm sorry for disturbing lunch, I should, um, go somewhere else."

Arthur frowns and shakes his head.

"Stay and tell me about Australia. I want to know more about that place."

"Cheers." I take a seat with George and Arthur sitting across from me.

They're both wearing varsity jackets, except George is leaner than Arthur's wide, muscular frame. I wonder about George's position, given that he isn't muscular. Perhaps something small if he's quailing over a table.

"It's amazing, you should go one day. I used to live by the beach, so we'd go there all the time to hang out or watch the sunset."

"That sounds rippa, is that how you say it?" Arthur smiles.

"Yeah." I chuckle.

"Are you enjoying your time in America so far?"

"It's certainly interesting." I force a smile.

I wouldn't be a fish out of water if we just lived near the ocean.

"It can't be that bad." He gasps.

"Starting over is hard, and there's pressure from my father to make things work. I keep wishing I were at home with my friends."

"We'll be your friends, right, George?" Arthur elbows George, and he groans.

George frowns, but he also nods.

"Well, thanks for the offer."

More people wearing varsity jackets and cheer uniforms wandered outside and gathered around the table. A redhead with brown freckles joins me, and a preppy girl, Savannah, from my English class, perches on Arthur's lap. He forgets about me, Australia, and focuses on her seemingly magical lips.

I hope someone yells for them to get a room, but nobody does. This better not be a regular occurrence. I scroll through social media and frown.

There are tons of pictures of them at the beach, our favourite café, and a hiking spot. There's also statuses about exam prep and how studying sucks.

If we'd stayed, this could be me, close to graduating from high school. Instead, I've just started the last year of high school. At the end of my eleventh year, I went to TAFE before packing everything up to move here in August for senior year.

Dad wanted to move a lot earlier, right after Mum died, but I begged him to let me enjoy some time with my friends before the big move. I couldn't uproot my life like he could; I had everything there, a whole life and a future just waiting for me to take it.

In that time, I hoped he'd miraculously change his mind, but that didn't happen. He was determined to put as much distance between Australia and himself, while I would do anything to be back.

When the bell rings, Savannah untangles herself, and a long string of saliva connects the pair. She whispers something before bounding away. From the smile on Arthur's face, I'm glad I couldn't hear it.

People wander away while I retrieve the school map. With the endless hallways, grey lockers, and tons of doors, it's borderline magical how anyone finds their way around.

Arthur rips the map from my hands and inspects it. After a second, he passes it back with a goofy grin.

"What's your next class?"

"Uh, woodwork."

"I'm surprised but excited because I have that class as well."

"Darn, that doesn't sound good." I laugh.

"What, the fact we're sharing a class?" He gasps.

"No, that I'll be the only female." I sigh.

I shove the map into my bag and follow Arthur around the school. Towards the back of the building, there's a small workshop detached, which has 'woodwork' written across the wall.

I'm confronted by the strong scent of sawdust, but I'm surprised by how spacious the classroom is. There's an attached storage room and office. The office has a long, rectangular window with plastic blinds, which vaguely hide someone inside.

There's a bang, a grumble of cursive words, then the teacher appears.

Someone tall and muscular appears, who has me smiling from ear to ear. He's young, fit, and mouth-watering attractive.

Okay, woodwork was the perfect decision.

He grabs a clipboard and intensely looks at it.

"There should be a new kid in our class, uh, Christine, are you here?"

"Yes," I call out.

He looks up and smiles. "Is Christine short for anything?"

"No."

The boys laugh, some look at me weirdly, but I ignore their gazes.

"I bet you're annoyed at this, but come and introduce yourself."

"I think I'm perfecting this." I laugh. "I'm Christine Beckley. I moved from Australia. I enjoy reading, cooking, surfing, and the beach."

"It's nice to meet you, Christine." He smiles.

"I'm Blain Boston, but I prefer Blain, none of this Mr crap. I haven't been teaching long, but I love woodwork. I can't cook, I hate reading, and I'd like to visit Australia."

If he keeps smiling at me, I think my heart might melt into a puddle.

"We're building cabinets. Grab a seat, and I'll find the assignment sheets." He scratches the back of his head and wanders into the office.

Arthur leads me to a work table that has a few other people on it.

One side of the room has the equipment, while the other has workbenches.

Blain hands out worksheets to everyone, but stops when he reaches me. He leans on the desk and grins a sexy smile that has me swooning.

Fuck, he's even more attractive closer up.

"How's your first day going?"

"I'm still alive," I joke.

"That's a good thing." He nods. "Did you take woodwork at your previous school?"

"Uh, a few years ago." I cough. "This was the only subject left."

"I'll help you settle in and get you up to speed. Since you don't have as much experience, I'll tailor the assignment for you."

"Thank you." I grin.

"What about me?" Arthur butts in. "Can I have special treatment too?"

"Shut up, Arthur, you can do the work."

Arthur rolls his eyes.

"If there's anything you can't do or understand, just ask. Don't listen to Arthur, he's an asshole."

I gasp, which makes them laugh.

"Blain, you're scaring Christine." Arthur wraps his arm around my shoulder. "Blain is my uncle, almost a brother, really. So, we tease each other all the time."

"I let him believe I'm joking." He winks.

"Fairo." I laugh.

"Fairo?" Arthur questions.

"Oh, it means fair enough."

"Fairo," Arthur repeats. "I like this word. What other words do you use?"

I spend the rest of the class educating Arthur on slang. Some people work; most run around the room, smacking each other with loose pieces of wood. I assume it's all against the rules, but Blain says nothing.

At the end of class, I grab my things and wave goodbye to Arthur. I trek back into the school and spend at least five minutes hunting for my locker. One wrong hallway and you might end up in Narnia.

By the time I collect my belongings, the parking lot is practically empty, including the bus I'm supposed to catch home.

"Hey, Christine."

Arthur leans across his car with a goofy grin.

"Hi, Arthur." I wave.

"Do you need a ride home? The buses have already gone."

"Shoot! It took forever to relocate my locker."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, first days are hard." He shrugs. "Since you need a lift, I'll be your driver. So hop in."

"Are you sure?" I bite my lip.

"Yes, get in."

"Cheers."

I give Arthur directions, and thankfully, the drive isn't long, but it's quiet and slightly awkward.

He swings into the driveway, and I jump out.

"Thank you for the lift."

"It's no bother."

"I'll see you tomorrow, bye." I wave.

He lingers in the driveway before chugging away. I drift inside the empty house and frown at the abundance of boxes.

"I guess there's no time like the present."

I drop my bag at the base of the stairs and open a box. If I do a couple now, it might make things easier. The number of boxes that need to be unpacked doesn't make the situation better. I want to move back, but I couldn't break my father's heart.

Thursday, 8th of September

Arthur parks in the driveway as I wander down to meet him. He offered to drive me home yesterday, but it didn't feel right until I was stuck on a bus that made too many stops and added hours onto my trip home.

"Thank you so much!" I say, hopping into the front seat.

"You're welcome."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do to return the favour."

"You can pick a song." He tosses his phone onto my lap and grins. I considered a few songs before picking Rapunzel by Drapht.

He cocks his head to the side as I turn the volume up. Arthur taps his fingers to the beat, then nods his head.

"It's interesting."

"You mean amazing," I correct.

"Gee, I'm sorry." Arthur laughs.

I play some of their other music before we arrive at school. He swerves into a parking spot, and we saunter inside.

Arthur hangs with a group of guys while I veer in the opposite direction in search of my locker. I'm getting the hang of this, but it's only taken me two days and three lost maps.

I shove a majority of my books into the small cubicle before rushing to homeroom. My bag is light, which is nice. I hated having to cart my books to classes in Australia.

The bell rings as I wander into the classroom. I find a seat at the back and half listen to the string of announcements. I mostly scribble on the inside of my English notebook.

Once homeroom is over, people scatter, but I remain for English.

Arthur enters the classroom and takes a seat on the other side of the room.

"Christine, over here." Arthur waves to a free spot beside him.

I consider ignoring him because I like my spot at the back of the classroom, but I grab my things and move to the other desk.

The teacher coughs, and some people look at him. He writes our tasks on the chalkboard, then sits behind the desk. I've already read the book, so I fill in the questions and let Arthur copy them.

Arthur grows restless and tosses a pen at the brunette in front of us. She turns around and scowls at Arthur.

"I'm keeping your pen." She glares.

"Have you met Christine?"

"No, but hi." She doesn't look amused, but follows along.

"She's new, so you should invite her to try out for the cheerleading team. You need new faces on that team and last year's intake sucked."

The girl looks at me and asks, "Do you have any experience?"

"I'm sorry about him, but I'm not interested."

"If you change your mind, we're having tryouts after school. We need more people who are athletic."

"Okay, thanks."

She eyes my paper and smiles.

"Have you finished?"

"Yes, do you want the answers?" I slide the paper towards her.

"Thanks." She grins.

* * * * *

Dance is less terrible because we're learning a new routine, math sucks and then lunch rolls by. I skip the cafeteria and head outside to sit with everyone. There are a few familiar faces, but everyone is a blur.

Arthur and a girl called Yvonne sit at the table with me, while Savannah is on the ground shooting daggers at Arthur.

"We're in time out, and she's unhappy."

"Just break up already. I swear you fight more than you date," Yvonne comments.

"Tell her to stop acting crazy, then maybe we wouldn't need to do this."

Yvonne shakes her head and laughs.

"Honest to God, I love her, but we both know crazy is just in her DNA." She laughs.

"You're right." Arthur sighs.

Yvonne turns to me and smiles. I squirm under her gaze, but I manage to tug on a smile.

"What sport do you play, Christine?"

"I used to surf with my mother, but not anymore."

"Damn, you certainly can't surf around here."

"No." I shake my head.

"You have the muscle definition we're looking for, and if you can follow directions, we'd be thrilled to see you try out for the team. You should disregard Arthur's comments; he tries too hard to make people fit."

"I'm sure Arthur means well, besides." I shrug. "I'd be sitting by myself without him."

"You seem cool, Christine."

After lunch, we walk to woodwork. Everyone has started their project while I've been going through tedious paperwork about procedures and safety scenarios inside Blain's office.

The videos and scenarios are gory, not in the images, but in what they imply. I hope I don't cut my fingers off because that would be terrifying.

Blain walks inside and pulls a chair up. He places a new assignment in front of me and smiles.

"I've tweaked it to make the theory weigh more, and I've simplified what you need to demonstrate for the design and overall production. I'll walk you through making the cupboard. Does that sound okay?"

"It's great, thank you." I grin.

"When you've finished the videos, I want you to look at the designs. Draw whatever you like. Can you manage that?"

"Yes." I nod.

"Just use the computer. It's dusty and the t button doesn't work."

"Okay, no worries."

"Great." He claps his hands. "Yell out if you need help."

"Thanks for the help."

Blain returns to help someone, then hurls insults at Arthur because he's throwing wood scraps at someone who's trying to use the bandsaw.

I skip through the videos and search for basic cabinet designs and start on my own.

Blain has no idea what he'd gotten himself into. I shouldn't be allowed near power tools capable of cutting off my limbs, and I can't draw to save myself.

* * * * *

Arms wrap around my waist as I skip out of the office.

"What are you doing?" I shout.

"Just making sure you get to cheerleading tryouts." He laughs.

"I specifically remember making a date with Netflix."

I bet he's rolling his eyes and smiling that stupid goofy grin.

He adjusts his grip and wanders onto the school oval. Instead of fighting, I rest my chin on Arthur's shoulder.

Blain's herds students out of the room before jogging towards us.

"What are you doing, Arthur? Put her down!"

"You heard the teacher." I poke his shoulder.

Arthur ignores us, so I wiggle around until I accidentally kick his leg. He drops me, and I crash into the hard ground. I spring up and bolt towards the school. I peer over my shoulder and scream.

He wrangles me into the air and over his shoulder. Blain laughs as he falls in step with Arthur.

"What are you doing, Arthur?"

"Making Christine try out for cheer."

"You can't force someone to do that."

"How's Christine going to get the full American experience without joining cheerleading?"

Blain shakes his head and walks off.

"Good luck," he yells.

Arthur drops me off at the cheer tryout with a bright smile.

"Christine's bursting with cheer spirit." I shoot him a glare, so he elbows me in the side.

"So much school spirit." I roll my eyes.

"Join the tryout, you might enjoy it. If you don't, then no hard feelings." Yvonne smiles.

"I'm wearing jeans."

"Easy fix, I have some shorts you can borrow."

"Oh, thanks."

Yvonne tosses me a pair of black booty shorts and directs me to the change room, which is across the oval.

I race across the oval and wave the shorts to Arthur, who gives me a thumbs up. As I race around the corner, I walk into a hard chest and fall onto the ground. Blain looks down and frowns.

"Shit, sorry Christine." He takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry! I thought this was the female toilet."

"It's on the other side, actually." He chuckles.

"Okay."

"So you're actually trying out for cheerleading?"

"Yvonne was really nice, so why not." I nod. "I doubt I'll be accepted because I've never done anything like this before."

"I'm sure you'll do great."

"Cheers." I smile.

I change into the shorts which are tight and cling to my thighs. I can't go back in jeans, so I force myself across the grass.

There's some catcalls which makes my cheeks go red.

Yvonne gives simple moves, then cranks the music.

I don't keep up with the dance, but I slay on the physical side. A few girls leave part way through, but I trooper on. What's a few more bruises after falling down twice today?

The head cheerleaders discuss tryouts, then announce their choice. Yvonne hands me a blue cheer outfit and matching yellow pom poms.

"You don't have to accept me because of Arthur. My audition was shocking, borderline terrifying."

"Arthur has nothing to do with our decision. You have potential and muscle. Plus we like you."

"Oh, okay." I smile. "I think this could be fun."

Savannah glares at me and I look at Yvonne.

"She's just jealous, don't mind her."

"I'll endeavour to try." I laugh.

The cheerleaders pack up their equipment while I watch Arthur race across the field with a smile. I wave the pom poms in the air which makes him smile widen.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"I'm hitting the showers, but do you want a lift home?"

"Sure, thank you! I'll grab my stuff."

"Let's meet at the car?"

"Yes."

As Arthur runs away, Savannah growls at me.

"Arthur is mine!"

"Don't be childish. Arthur isn't a toy and he's just driving me home. If he wants to be with you, I'm all for it." Her mouth drops open, so I use this as my moment to escape.

Once I've got my things, I head to the parking lot. Blain walks around the corner with a smile.

"Did you make it onto the team?"

"Yes." I nod.

"Congratulations! You're one step closer to completing the American experience."

"What are the other steps?"

"Hm." He ponders. "Parties, Halloween, homecoming, prom and Arthur said dating him, but I think that's crap."

"He said that?" I laugh.

"Yes, but he'd kill me if I said anything."

"I pinky promise not to say anything then. I also don't fancy entering a rival with Savannah."

"Pinky promise, hey, that's a strong commitment."

"It is."

His pinky intertwining with mine and we shake on it. I get lost in his olive eyes, which causes my breath to get caught in my throat.

"I should go." He coughs.

Blain leaves and I lust after him in a dreamy state.

I walk to the car and Arthur is crossing the field. I wave to him and we get into the car. I lean back in the chair and sigh.

"What are you thinking about?"

"My bed." I lie. "I'm exhausted."

I peek at Arthur who seems slightly offended.

When he drops me off, I thank him for the lift. It's only inside, I remember Yvonne's shorts.

"What are you wearing?"

"I borrowed them for cheer tryouts."

"Cheer tryouts?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm a cheerleader. Yay, go the Tigers."

"That's a new development."

"I thought I'd give it a try, maybe make some friends."

"I'll come to every game and watch you cheer."

We both know he'll be there for football, but I don't mind, he needs some happiness.

Friday, 9th of September

Arthur throws a twig and laughs when I miss the dance move. I'm thrown out of time and forced to start again. I remove my shoe and launch it at Arthur's smug face. He jumps to the side, and the sneaker bounces off the table and onto the grass.

"You bloody asshole, you're getting on my last nerve!"

In between laughter, he throws another twig. Yvonne rolls her eyes and sighs.

"Throw another stick and I'm going to shove it so far up your-" I turn away once I catch Savannah staring at me. If I continue with all the ways I'd like to beat him, she'll assume it's flirting.

Sadly, I don't think we're ever going to be friends.

I take a deep breath, I loosen my shoulders, and start again.

I clap my hands, shake my booty, and as I go to jump, hands grab my waist. Arthur lifts me into the air, then spins me around.

"Sorry, Christine, I was just teasing."

He places me on the grass, then hands my shoe back.

"Thanks for the apology."

"Let me see if I can help."

Arthur stretches his arms and legs before jumping in line with Yvonne. He tries to follow along, but Yvonne's high kicks are too hard because of his restricting slacks.

However, it is hilarious to see him attempt to follow along.

Arthur is out of beat and does the moves backward. Halfway through the routine, he flops on the grass and shouts, "You've wrecked me, I give up."

"See, not that easy." Yvonne shakes her head.

"Exactly."

"But Christine, if you can't do this, how are you going to dance at my party tonight?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm throwing a 'welcome back to school' party."

"You never said anything to me about it."

"Now you don't have an excuse, plus I know where you live and I will drag you if I have to."

"Ugh, I know, that was a mistake." I roll my eyes.

"Too bad sucker!"

The bell rings, so we grab our bags and head to woodwork. George and Arthur terrorise each other while I drag my feet on the way to Blain's office.

Someone coughs, and I jump. I turn around and catch Blain's eyes lingering on my thighs.

"Is there something you want?" I chuckle.

"Uh." He shakes his head. "You need to wear more clothing in the workshop. You might get hurt otherwise."

"Okay."

We enter the office, and he sits beside me.

"How are the designs coming along?"

"Well." I slide them across the table.

He grabs the paper and chokes back some laughter.

"They're something."

"Yes." I giggle.

"I'm not sure where to start."

"With a new piece of paper?"

I rip a blank page out of my notebook and pass it over. Blain grabs a pencil from a disorganised drawer and corrects the drawing on the new page.

His drawing is significantly better, for starters, he's got straighter lines.

"What you need to focus on is -" Blain swivels his chair closer, and his knee touches mine.

I attempt to avoid the slight contact, but his hairy leg tickles my skin.

Blain leans closer and uses the pencil to point. I tear my gaze away from his gorgeous face to look at the page, then I look back at his olive green eyes.

"Does that make sense?"

"Yes." I cough. "I mean, no."

I really mean, I have no idea what you said.

Blain laughs, and this time, I focus on the paper and what he's saying.

Hm, I bet his lips are soft to kiss.

Shit, I'm doing it again.

I look at Blain and nod my head, "Yeah, hm."

Abort, abort! This isn't working.

For a second, Blain stops talking, and I swear he's gazing at me.

That moment is shattered when there's a knock on the window. I jump and see Arthur peeking through the blinds.

"Come on, the class just ended!"

Shoot, maybe it was longer than a second?

I scramble out of the chair and rush out of the office. What was I doing? I can't do whatever this is, and there's no way Blain . . . I shake my head.

Girl, get your hormones in check!

"Christine, come back," Blain shouts.

I stop running when I realise he's waving paper in the air. He jogs over, and I shove the paper into my bag.

"Thank you."

"We'll finalise the design on Monday," he says.

"Cheers for the help."

Blain runs back to the classroom while Arthur wraps his arm around my shoulder. We walk towards the oval while he chatters about something.

When we step onto the oval, I realise the girls are already warming up for practice.

"Shit, I need to go."

Arthur wolf whistles, so I flip him the bird and continue. He's quickly becoming a pain in my side, but a pain I don't mind? Ugh, I guess he's alright, just childish sometimes.

During warm-up, some of the girls talk about a float. It's weird until I realise it's for the homecoming event. The most my school did was hold a sports carnival every year. We'd dress in our house colours and compete against each other.

"Our homecoming float should be royalty-based since the homecoming king and queen nominations will be on it," Savannah explains.

The football team is running laps, which gives Arthur the perfect opportunity to jog over.

"What are you girls talking about?"

"Go away, Arthur." Yvonne groans.

"We're talking about the seniors float."

"It should be beach themed." He pants while running on the spot.

Savannah pouts, "But you loved my idea, Arthur."

"But the beach theme would be wicked and nice for Christine."

I raise my hands in defence, "Don't change things for me, it's your homecoming."

"But it's your first and only homecoming," Arthur says.

"The beach could be fun." Yvonne nods her head. "We could have pastel colours, sand, beach balls, and bikinis!"

Some of the girls perk up at Yvonne's comments about bikinis.

"Arthur, extra laps," Blain shouts as he runs past.

"Just think about it."

Arthur races off, and the girls 'ahh' about the new idea.

"How adorable would flower crowns be!" another girl comments. "The royalty idea is nice, but we could work that into our prom."

"Those on the homecoming float committee can vote on it," says Yvonne.

Another girl, Jane, puts the ideas up for a vote. It's a close call, but the beach theme wins because it's different. I smile because it'll be nice to work on a project based on the beach, as it's as close as I'm going to get to it.

At the end of practice, Arthur grabs my things and we walk to the car. I hop in and we speedily drive back to mine. Instead of parking in the driveway, Arthur hugs the car to the curb.

"I can pick you up before the party."

"It's okay, I'll ask my Dad for the lift."

"Okay, but if you aren't at mine by seven, I'm driving over to get you."

"Don't worry, I'll be there! I need a drink or three to destress from this week."

"Good thing there's going to be a party!"

"Yeah, it sucks that I can't go and buy my alcohol, though. I loved that freedom."

"Naw." He pouts. "That's something I won't experience until I'm twenty-one."

"Only then will you understand my pain."

"See you later, Christine."

I race into the house, only to find my father sprawled on the couch, still dressed in his police uniform. Before he moved, Dad worked in law, so when we moved back, he was able to pull strings and rejoin in the lower ranks.

"Hey Dad, can I go to a party? If so, can you buy me booze?"

"Are you sure a party is a good idea?"

"If you're worried about the friend thing, I made more friends today and they're begging me to come along." I grin.

George is still warming up to me, but we could easily be friends if we talked more.

"You're an adult, and I trust you. Just-"

"-Call if I need a lift or if I'm in trouble. Yes, Sir, I will indeed!"

"I'll buy the booze now because I need more tins."

"Tins?" I gasp. "There is some Australian left in you?"

Dad ignores my comment and walks out of the house.

I head upstairs and rummage through my drawers. I pluck out a pair of black jeans, a white crop top, and a silver necklace to make it look like I put effort in. I tie my blonde hair into a high ponytail and apply neutral makeup with clear lip gloss.

Once I'm ready, I jog downstairs and find Dad in the kitchen leaning against the counter.

"Isn't there more clothing with that top?"

"No." I laugh.

I walk around the bench and rest my head on his shoulder. "It's weird going from a legal adult to a minor."

"You've always been my baby girl, but I understand the adjustment. I trust you and I know you'll make the right choices because you are an adult."

"Thank you." I kiss his cheek.

"Don't get drunk because I don't want to deal with your hungover mood swings." He shakes his head.

"Are you kidding me?" I laugh. "You know damn right I could drink those fuckers under the table."

"You are too much like your mother sometimes." He laughs. "She loved to party, which is why you worry me."

"I still remember the moves you taught me. Punch in the throat, then the balls." I wave my arms and legs in the air, which makes him laugh.

Dad laughs. "That's my girl."

There's a message on my phone from Arthur. It's his address and another message telling me to hurry up. I reply, then skip out of the house.

Dad grabs a jacket and throws it at me while he grabs the keys.

"Come on, let's get you to that party."

I think I could grow to like this place.