Future Holds || Bob's Burgers

4- Keeping A Secret

Amelia

Cassidy seems really happy lately. She deserves that. I know it hasn't been easy.

She's already been here for a whole month to do treatment. There's side effects, but nothing that deters Cassidy from her goal of truly becoming herself. Comfortable in her own body.

"Amelia! I've been looking for you!" Uncle Gene runs into my room without knocking.

"Umm...it's my room. That's the first place you should look." I smirk.

"Well after checking the kitchen and enjoying some delicious cheese puffs, I have found you, my niece!" He bows dramatically. Mom says he was like this growing up too.

"So what do you need?" I ask.

"Can't an uncle hang out with his favorite niece?" He gasps, pretending to be offended.

"I guess." I shrug nonchalantly.

"Okay you've got me. I need a little advice." He admits.

"Advice from me? Why?" I ask.

"Presley seems to be hiding something and I want to get to the bottom of it. You're close to her. Do you know what's up?" Uncle Gene presses.

I do know what's up, but Presley has explicitly asked me not to tell either of her fathers.

"I can't say I do. Sorry." I lie, hopefully sounding convincing.

"Damn...how are you liking that joke book I got you though?" He smiles goofily.

"It's great." I giggle just thinking about it.

"I'm on a seafood diet. I see food and I eat it." I recite from the book.

Uncle Gene looks at me tearfully. "I relate to that...so deeply...on a spiritual level."

Get a load of this guy.

"Okayyy." I roll my eyes.

"Food is a gift from our God, Bob Marley." He says.

"Mmhm." I mumble.

Well, I feel bad for lying to Uncle Gene, but I didn't have a choice. Presley's little secret isn't very little at all.

Delilah gallops like a horse through the hallway, stopping at my door and pretending to whinny.

"'Melia, can I show you somethin'?" She has a bit of Dad's accent.

"Sure, Delilah." I smile.

She lights up, racing around the room like a horse.

"Did you see, 'Melia?! Did you see?!" She bounces up and down in excitement.

"Yeah. That's pretty cool." I tell her.

"Thanks. I've been workin' really hard on it." Delilah replies seriously. Five year olds practicing how to be a horse. Serious business.

I brush my brown hair out of my face and into twin braids, taking a moment for myself. I love her, but she's a lot to handle.

I have my father's hair and eyes. Both brown. Delilah has Mom's hazel eyes and black hair, but it's curly like Dad's.