Chapter 35: "I Have a Hero Whenever I Need One"

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Sunday, May 12th

Pain radiates in my left hand as it cramps up from holding the thick, heavy book open for so long. Wincing, I switch hands, using my right to hold open the book and the left to sift through the shoebox full of photos.

"This is a stupid idea," Jared says, the background noise of the phone crackling over his voice.

"No, it's not, okay, it's a great idea and she's going to love it," I protest. I'm not letting Jared talk me out of a gift idea that I know Mom will like just because he has bad ideas.

"I think it's a sweet gesture," Alana pipes up, still muffled from the phone but decidedly more cheery than Jared.

"Thank you, Alana!"

"Whose side are you on, anyway?" Jared scoffs. Something clanks from their side of the call.

"I wasn't aware there were sides," Alana answers. Carefully, I pull out a photo from the pile in the box before shaking my head and dropping it back in.

This photo album needs to be perfect. It's too easy of a gift. I'm basically just giving Mom things she already owns but in a book. The photos need to be in the perfect order, and the titles need to be pretty, and the wrapping needs to be right.

"Well, you're on my side because you're my girlfriend," Jared claims.

"I can be on your side and still think the scrapbook is a nice idea." It's a photo album, but I'm not going to correct her.

"I thought you were smart or something," Jared taunts, and Alana giggles.

"At least I'm getting my mom a present," I say, sliding a picture of my 5th birthday party into the sleeve. It has Dad in it, but I'm not going to let him ruin the photo.

"Actually, I'm making my mom her favorite kind of cake. Which is why Alana is here because I do not know how to make a cake." Putting the photos in the sleeves of the album makes me feel like those kids in elementary school who brought their binders full of Pokémon cards to class.

"I got my mom a first edition set of her favorite series," Alana says.

"So the reader gene was passed down?" I ask. Carefully, I write the year '2007' across the top of the page. At least until my marker runs out of ink on the second zero.

"It must be dominant because my dad hasn't picked up a book since before I was born," Alana says and I chuckle. That was my only green marker. I'll just have to use blue for the rest of them and hope Mom doesn't mind and I don't ruin her present but she's too nice to say anything but secretly she hates it.

"Why are we talking about Punnett squares on a weekend?" Jared groans.

"I'm surprised you know what a Punnett square is, Jared," I say. My patience is very thin today, and I'm irritable for no reason. Well... no. No, there's no reason. At least I can play it off as witty since they can't see my face.

"Go fuck yourself." I laugh, gently grabbing a handful of photos from the shoebox. It's cover in dust from years of sitting under Mom's bed, but I can work with it.

"What kind of cake are you making?"

"Red Velvet Bundt cake."

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