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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄. It had been a rather shaky transition, putting her in school, and Jameson had, on more than one occasion, consulted various adults and specialists to try and discern what he should do to try and get Phoebe the help and guidance she needed in order to acclimate and pick up on social cues—he didn't know why she was the way she was, and she certainly wasn't about to tell him, but it was clear to him that something was off—but she was a fast learner and, now in her sophomore year of high school, she was doing just fine.
"You don't have to stay on the phone with me every time I walk over to the office, dad," Phoebe said, hoping that he couldn't hear her smiling on the other end as she pressed her phone up to her ear; most daughters would be exasperated at their father's hovering, but Phoebe hadn't known him long enough to feel anything but warmth whenever he did, though it could get a little overbearing at times, but it was nice to have a parental figure who genuinely cared.
She heard him sigh into the receiver and she immediately knew what he was about to say, unable to help herself as she mouthed along to the same speech she had been given since she had first moved in with him.
"Phoebe, it's not that I don't trust you," Jameson began, "But the world is a dangerous place, and you know I want to make sure that you don't feel as though you have to keep looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, and it's not like I'm trying to dismiss and excuse the actions of disgusting men as just a part of life and society, but I also don't want to act as if it doesn't happen and pretend like you'll be perfectly fine. It's a balance I'm trying to find, and I trust you, but I also want to make sure I'm doing all I can to keep you safe while letting you live your life. It's hard enough being a woman, imagine if you weren't white, or a trans woman, I would be even more concerned, please try to understand."
Phoebe had heard the speech so many times that it was a wonder that her father hadn't written about it and published it in an article, though considering the general topics he reported on, giving out the entire speech would be rather redundant considering. But she understood it all, he had raised her on all of his beliefs, and the only thing she was annoyed by was the slight insinuation that he didn't know she already understood.
"I know, dad," she said, giving him her usual response, "I've understood for a while now, I'm just saying."
He huffed softly, and she could hear him smiling as he said, "I know you do, I just like saying it. My door is open and I like to make sure everyone knows where my morals stand."
She grinned at that, taking a short hop forward before rushing around a particularly slow elderly couple, balancing easily on her platform sneakers, breaking out into a slight jog before slowing into more of a brisk walk, adjusting her backpack and jacket, always hating whenever they were tangled and slipping.
"I'm almost there," she said, stepping out of the construction walkway, pausing at the curb with everyone else, glancing at the street before deciding to just walk, the light turning when she was already halfway across.
