“And what do you propose this fun thing should be?” my dad asks, mildly amused.
“I don’t know.” I give a shrug. “I didn’t get that far when I was mentally preparing my speech.”
My dad looks at my mom who glances at Aunt Lila. Obviously, she’s the ringleader in their quartet.
“It might be good for everyone to get some fresh air,” she finally says after seconds tick by. “Just as long as we go someplace safe.”
“And relaxing,” I add, stuffing the rest of the cookie into my mouth.
“Hmmm . . .” My dad rubs his jawline. “I might know just the place.”
My dad is a kickass rock star/music producer, so when he said he knew a place that was both safe and relaxing, I was thinking maybe like a chill club that allows kids or perhaps a restaurant where the adults can drink a lot of wine. But nope. He takes us to Rock in Time Playhouse and Grub, which is pretty much a bedazzled pizzeria full of games, bouncy houses, and slides.
The second we step in, Fiona, Everson, and Kale race for the arcade section. Aunt Lila and Uncle Ethan chase after them while Ayden mutters something about needing to go to the bathroom.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” my mom says then wanders off to the bar to order a drink, leaving my dad and me to get a table and order food.
“You know we’re all over twelve,” I say to my dad as I point to the No Kids Over 12 sign beside the ball pit. “That so sucks. I want to jump in there like I used to do when I was a kid.” Back when everything was so simple, so easy, so effortless.
He waves me off, heading for a corner booth. “That rule doesn’t apply to us.”
“How do you figure?” I ask as I weave passed the empty tables, following him.
“Because I know the guy who owns this place.”
“Man, how many people do you know? Because it seems like a lot.”
“It comes with the territory of running my own business.” He slides into the booth and plucks a menu from a rack in the center of the table.
I plop down in the booth and cross my arms on the table. “I’m sure it might have something to do with the fact that you’re a retired rock star.”
“Perhaps.” He fixes his attention on the menu.
“How do you do it?” I ask. “I mean, handle people giving you all these special favors and acting weird around you.”
He shrugs, glancing up at me. “I’m not going to lie. Sometimes it’s not easy and it gets tiring—it’s part of the reason why I retired—but it was fun for a while.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to handle it? I mean, the environment.” While I’m a pretty confident person, I value his opinion.
He rests his arms on the table as his mouth curves to a frown. “As much as I want to say no and keep you home with me forever, I honestly think you’ll do just fine. You’re an amazing girl and very level headed.” He grins at me. “Plus, you’ve got my charming personality.”
“That I do. You’re going to let me go, though, right? I mean, you’re not going to try to keep me home, like Lila’s doing with Ayden.”
He shakes his head. “Of course not. Besides, I think it’ll be good for you to get away from here for a while and have some fun. Your senior year has been really stressful.”
“I know.” I spin a saltshaker in my hand. “I just wish Ayden was going with me.”
“I know you do, but you have to understand how hard it’s got to be for him to even think about going when his sister still hasn’t been found. Plus, I don’t think anyone will be able to convince Lila to let him go.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sit back in the seat, trying not to let my disappointment get to me. While I’m bummed, I know Lila and Ethan have every right to worry about Ayden. And everyone’s probably right. It’s probably too dangerous for him to go. But the dreamer side of me can’t help but think how much Ayden might regret missing out on this. He’s missed out on so many life experiences already
Missed.
Missed.
Missed.
I’m going to miss Ayden.
I’m going to miss everyone.
“Dad, I’m really going to miss these talks of ours while I’m gone,” I feel the overpowering need to tell him.
“I am too, Lyric.” He chokes up. “But you know I’ll always be here for you. Whenever you need to talk, just call me. In fact, I insist you call me at least once a day.”
I stick out my pinkie. “Deal.”