The Good Hair Family Sitcom

S2 E15.1: Uncharmed

Brayden's POV

Most people avoid the cracks on the sidewalk, treat them like some kind of sever in the otherwise unscathed foundation. They swing their legs a little farther to miss the divide and remain safely on whole ground. Deion has no such urge. He steps freely, as I suppose a regular person should, but regular people really aren't that regular when it comes down to little quirks. He notices me watching him when his foot slaps down on a crack, and to keep my attention, he stretches his next foot extra far to hit the next crack immediately. Before he can step on another crevice, I rush forward to plant my foot on it, and then the next, and soon we're competing to see who can walk entirely on breaks in the cement, laughing together until I stumble and fail, and we return to normal. It's peculiar, because me walking through my neighbourhood with Deion King is hardly normal under even a bizarre lens, but this is us now. At some point string turned to ribbon, and I don't recall when or how.

"Have you ever seen Casablanca?" I ask, sparking the conversation again.

"Nope."

"Well, do you want to watch it tomorrow? I've only ever seen it alone."

"I'm down," he replies, "but my house is gonna be taken. My mom's having friends over for dinner. I could come to your place?"

Here's the predicament. It's true that Deion and I have been friends for a few months, but I've only ever been to his house. Him coming to my house would be a completely different thing. Why? Because my parents know his name, and what they know is not favourable. How am I supposed to explain the strange events that resulted in me befriending my former bully. Even I struggle to understand it. We shouldn't work, but somehow we just do, like corn snow in the summertime or sun during the rain.

"Um... Yeah, that should be fine," I answer.

This could very well be something I regret, if my family doesn't take well to his presence. I wouldn't blame them, but I would be disappointed. However, thinking about this won't affect the actual outcome, so I'll simply have to wait.

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Marty's POV

As soon as my eyelids open, my tired sleepy mind pieces together the sight of my wife sitting in bed beside me while working on her laptop. This isn't rare for her. She loves to push herself to get her work done whenever she has the time. Sometimes, though, I think she should take a break, like now.

I sit up and give her a quick kiss on her temple, which she only responds to by saying, "I'm working."

"You just woke up," I say.

"You just woke up," she corrects me. "I've been up since four."

"Four?"

That's disgusting. I don't care if there's a fire or tornado; no one should ever have to wake up at four. I reach up and close her laptop down.

"Nope," I say. "No more work for you. Go back to sleep."

Buffy puts on a smile before leaning over to kiss my lips, but she scrunches her eyebrows as she pulls back.

"Go shave," she says. "Your face is all rough."

"Okay."

I climb out of bed and start for the washroom, but before getting through the doorway, I hear the sound of Buffy raising her laptop again and look back.

"Don't try it," I tell her.

Buffy sighs and sets her computer down on the mattress, and I enter the ensuite to get my razor, but before I can even do anything, a little white object on the sink counter grabs my eyes. It takes me a second to realize what it is, but when I go over and see the lines, there's no way I could mistake this for anything else. I'm in shock as I spin around, seeing Buffy standing in the doorway watching me.