Cherry Bomb | Marvel Cinematic Universe

1.3 | Billy Eichner

Friday afternoon rolled around fast, and before I knew it the final bell rang through the school halls. A buzzed energy vibrated off the shuffling groups of students who were all eager to begin their weekends. I was eager to get home and pack my overnight bags, desperate to get out of the city. Brianna was leaning against the locker next to mine, talking at lightning pace about the musical she and her family were seeing that night.

"Wait, you're seeing Hamilton again?" I asked. I sifted through one of my binders to pull the notes I needed for studying.

"Have you not been listening to a word I've said for the last three weeks?" Brianna rolled her eyes. "Yes, I am seeing Hamilton again." I could have bet money that this would make it her seventh or eighth time seeing the show on Broadway that year alone. I used to think that I was a crazy musical theatre nerd until I met Bri.

"You are so lucky," I said. I had heard such great things about the show from her and still hadn't gotten to see it myself.

"Don't tell me you still haven't seen it Laur, it's practically old news by now!" Brianna laughed, tossing ringlets of fire over her shoulder.

"I know, I know!" I said, head thrown back against my locker as I shut it. "I keep trying to get my dad to buy us tickets but he has all these work trips and truth be told I think he forgets to buy them on purpose."

"Okay, but your dad like, hates musicals, right?" she asked. I nodded and she gave me a genuine look of apology. "Well, I'm sure he'll just love our show. Maybe Mer and I can finally meet him!"

I grit my teeth and grinned falsely. The Dalton's school musical was set to happen in June, and my father wouldn't miss it for the world. But the world had no idea that his daughter was in it, let alone that he had a daughter at all. When we found out I'd be performing, he arranged for a huge donation to the school so that he could attend the show under the guise of "funding youth's artistic endeavours." And it was a real kind gesture, I just wished he could come for me without the spangled banners and flashing bills.

"Yeah, maybe!" I choked out. It was a running joke in our friend circle that my parents must be Russian spies or royalty, because neither Brianna nor Meredith have met them. At first, the jokes made me laugh, like the one time Meredith created the elaborate rumour that my parents died in a tragic accident when I was a baby and I was actually raised by my robotic nanny. But with the school year end approaching, and three more years left to go, I was getting stressed about having to maintain the facades.

I pulled my body away from the lockers, signalling to Brianna that I wanted to start moving. We walked side by side through the halls and out to the street. She and I both spotted her dad's car at the same time. It was parked a few buildings down the block. Mr. Sinclair stuck his head out of the window and waved at us.

"Oh my God, he is so embarrassing." Brianna covered her eyes with one hand and spun us around with the other. I laughed at the way she shrunk into me. I pulled her into a quick hug to say goodbye.

"You're lucky that your dad can pick you up though, not everyone gets that," I said. She pulled back from my embrace with a quizzical look on her face. I realized how what I just said sounded and quickly recovered. "My dad's still on that damn work trip, I gotta walk today."

Brianna peered at me through narrowed eyes but resigned to not say anything. She stepped forward and threw an arm around my side to say goodbye, then turned down the street and got into her father's car.

The straps of my backpack weighed heavy on my shoulders, pinching the skin at the base of my neck. I tightened the straps and turned on my heels to begin the treacherous journey home (all twenty minutes of it).