Page 45 of Beautiful Small Things

“Charming, Dad,” I say, pushing past him to get to the refrigerator. “Need. Orange. Juice.”

“So, what are you up to today? Solving world hunger?” He jokes.

“Don’t be silly. I did that earlier in the shower.”

“Of course,” he chuckles.

“I actually have a lunch date today,” I tell him as he grabs his keys and puts them in his pocket.

“Tell Orion I said hello,” he says as he kisses my forehead and turns to leave.

“I’m actually going with someone else.” Upon hearing this, my father stops dead in his tracks and spins on his heels with a skeptical look on his face.

“Well, it can’t be Jem unless you’re making a long drive for a pastrami sandwich.”

“It’s not,” I shake my head, quite enjoying the torture I’m putting him through.

“Aunt Colby?” He asks.

“Nope.”

“Uncle Callan?”

“Nope.”

He throws his hands in the air. “I give up, Iris. Who are you having lunch with? It’s not Chelsea, is it? She’s not in town, is she?”

“Oh, God, No!” I reply. “You know she’s not a part of my life. I have no desire to eat a meatball sub with my egg donor.”

“Well,” He asks. “Who then?”

“I have a date with a boy named Henry,” I tell him, a half smile on my face.

“A boy named Henry, huh?” He asks in surprise. “And who is Henry? How do we know Henry? Who are Henry’s parents? Does Henry know I have the means to bury him in the desert where no one will ever find him?”

“You’re ridiculous,” I laugh. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“You’re not answering my questions.” His tone is more serious than normal.

“Henry is a boy from school. He’s a friend of Orion’s. He’s wanted to take me out forever, but I never entertained the idea,” I tell him honestly while putting the orange juice back in the refrigerator.

“Why not?” He asks with narrow eyes.

“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Boys haven’t been on my radar.”

“And they are now?” He questions with sincerity and a touch of fear.

“Yes. I mean, I think so.”

“Huh?” He nods his head. “When did this develop?”

“Do you know what an NPC is, Dad?”

He thinks for a minute before answering. “It has to do with gaming, right? Like a non-player?”

“Yes,” I begin. “It is a non-player character generated throughout the game that is not controlled by any player and has a predetermined set of behaviors that likely won’t impact gameplay much.”

He takes a seat at the breakfast and gives me his full attention. “OK,” he says.