20: Get Your Cards On the Table

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    There's a question I've been asked quite a few times in my life, and it's one that I don't really like all that much. And no, it isn't the one my boyfriend just asked me.

    Do you like not having a dad?

    I don't know what they're expecting me to say - 'Yeah, sure, it's great, not having a dad! I love not having someone to go to when Mom's being unreasonable! Missing out on Father-Daughter dances is fucking awesome!'

    The worst reminder of all has always been Father's Day. From Kindergarten all the way through until high school, teachers would often put aside an afternoon or even an entire day to work on arts and crafts projects for everyone to give their Fathers that third Sunday every June. Beyond that, everyone is bombarded with adverts and reminders to spend the day with or buy a special gift for their dads, whether it's a new tie or a kitchen gadget, or even a new set of golf clubs. Anything and everything that could possibly be marketed to anyone with a father ever, is.

    This past June was no different. All my friends were spending the day with their dads, the TV was on, encouraging me to run out and buy a last-minute present for mine, and the hotel was filled with families who were in the city for Father's Day weekend. As per usual, Zoë invited me to come share her dad, and I turned her down, not wanting to impose, and instead decided to spend most of the day sleeping.

    I was about to text Brent - who had chosen to stay at Jesse's, rather than flying out to his parents' in BC, and then back again for Prom – when a new tweet notification from Ashton rolled off the top of my screen.

———

@Ashton5SOS: So we don't all have dad's like me! :) if someone's a big influence in your life, let them know! Xx.

———

    I smiled to myself, and went to my contacts to FaceTime him. He answered immediately, smiling just as brightly as ever. "Hi, Snowflake."

    "Hi, Sweetheart. I saw your tweet."

    He looked shocked, but giggled anyways, fixing his hair in the camera. "I literally tweeted that less than a minute ago!"

    "I was bored and I miss you… what can I say?" I shrugged. "And I do believe you said to tell someone who's a big influence in my life that they're a big influence in my life. Do you happen to have Zac Efron's number, by chance?"

    "What the fuck has Zac Efron done to influence your life?" Ashton laughed, shaking his head at me. For once, his hair wasn't held back with a bandana, letting his ever-growing wild mess of locks swish freely with the motion.

    “High School Musical was a life-changing experience!” I defended. “Troy Bolton taught me how to get my head in the game and do a kickass musical number at the same time.”

    My boyfriend rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s his singing you like.”

    “Now I know you’re not jealous of how he looks,” I rolled my eyes right back at him. “Do you even look in the mirror?”

    “Do you?”

    “Are you implying that I’m better looking than Zac Efron?”

    He giggled. “Oh yeah. You have boobs, Wynny. That beats cool hair any day.”

    “I can’t decide whether you’re complimenting my boobs or insulting my hair or both,” I laughed. “Either way, you’re such a loser. Zac Efron beats me any day.”

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