5. Brian

Friday, February 11th.

I used a part of the murder wall to brainstorm how to get into Aidan's school Valentine's party. I'm not proud. Luckily I managed to get this done while Mina was out shopping for my Valentine's present. I told her I didn't need anything, but she insisted.

Maybe that's for the best, though. If she knew I was plotting how to get into this kid's classroom to spy on his budding love life… well… she just can't know this.

It's going to be a bit of a narrow squeeze, time wise. I told Mina I was just handling some last minute things and to pack her shit, including extra Kevlar. Because you just never know. After the Valentine's party, between driving back to the house, getting ready, and double checking all our stuff, we should have just enough time to get to the airport in time for check-in.

When I started planning this side quest, the way I saw it, I had two problems: how to get in, and how to not be recognized by the kid. It's possible he doesn't even remember what I look like. It has been seven months since he's seen my actual face—not counting the store Santa incident since I was covered up with a big white beard and Santa hat that day.

But still, the last thing I need is to send this kid into a screaming fit and end up in prison because I felt some perverse compulsive need to be at this sugary school event to see the girl who has stolen his heart.

I managed this problem by getting some glasses and dressing, well, like a dad is the only way I can think to describe it. No black. Non-threatening. Khaki pants, blue polo shirt. I also styled my hair differently. Okay, I know it sounds like a completely Clark Kent disguise, but this kid is six, and I don't plan to make eye contact. Besides, I've been working hard on my ‘nonthreatening vibe' lately. This is a good opportunity to practice.

As it turns out, it was shockingly easy to get into the party. Apparently they required some parent volunteers to help manage the kids and give out treats. I did a little digging and built up a dossier on a few possible candidates. And by candidates I mean dads who work all the time who the school has never seen before who also have wives who never volunteer for anything. The deadbeat slacker parents.

I finally settled on being Dereck Saint, a banker in the city who is always incredibly busy but is taking a much-needed vacation to spend some time with his kid. Or that's my story, anyway. I got on the list and I've just gone through their joke of a security checkpoint and got checked in. They do have metal detectors at least. And of course I left the heavy artillery at home. I'm not crazy.

I thought they might actually ask to see identification, in which case I was going to have to try to bluster my way through it because I didn't have time to make a fake ID for this. But shockingly all they wanted was a name to check off a list. Some woman named Becky Susan Stanton—a serial killer name if I ever heard one—used a pink highlighter to mark Dereck Saint off the list. Okay, so I may have flirted with her a bit to distract her from making too big of a fuss about my credentials—or lack thereof.

Still, I'm going to have a word with someone about the security measures at this school. Just anybody could walk in here. It's not like I'm a school shooter, but I do have a very high body count, so… yeah… there will be a strongly worded letter in the administration's future to keep people like me out of this building.

Of course I know I'm only making my life more difficult for the future, but I tell myself this is a one-time lapse in sanity and that there is no reality in which I will darken the doors of this school again.

They try to make the parents wear name tags, but only one of the moms is actually following this rule. And I'm the only dad. There are five whole volunteers, which I think is overkill. How on earth do you need six adults—if we include the teacher—to manage thirty-two kids? It boggles the mind.

Though I'm fairly certain all the moms signed up so they could hang out together. They're part of the stay-at-home-mom crowd and they clearly have their own social clique going. They keep looking at me and whispering and giggling, and I pray to god that none of them comes over and tries to find out whose parent I am. I'm self-conscious about the fact that I failed to grab a cheap wedding ring while concocting this harebrained scheme. It just slipped my mind that it was something I'd need in order to complete the scam I'm running.

Of course as a dad at the school I should probably be married—no judgement on the single dads, I'm just saying it fits the stereotype for the parents in this school district. Besides, Dereck Saint actually is married. It occurs to me that my flirting with Becky Susan Stanton could cause some problems in Saint's marriage if the gossip mill catches wind of it. Oh well. Sorry, bro. It couldn't be helped. I needed to spy on a six-year old. Priorities, maybe you should have some.

I spend the next awkward two hours avoiding the gaggle of moms while becoming the teacher's pet. As I keep myself busy, trying to avoid eye contact with Aidan and also eye contact with the moms—two of which are divorced and on the prowl—I overhear snippets of their conversation which thankfully isn't about me. Maybe I'm just dorky enough today to escape an uncomfortable interaction.

"Look at that," Katie's mom says, sounding concerned and pointing at a window.

I glance in the direction she's pointing. Fuck me. That snow wasn't supposed to roll in until tomorrow morning. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I do some quick amateur meteorologist math in my head to try to determine if the speed and size of the falling snowflakes will make a head-on collision with our scheduled flight time.

I need to start figuring out an alternate game plan. The storm system coming through is huge. If the planes get grounded we might not be flying for days and this job needs to happen on Valentine's Day, specifically, or we'll have to start the plan all over again.

"Oh, my," Sandra—the only one following the name tag rule—says. "Do you think they'll send the kids home early?"

"They should have already sent the kids home," Katie's mom says. "But there's only thirty minutes left in the school day, and the snow came out of nowhere. There really wasn't time to notify parents early. And you don't want to have people rushing around in this weather. It's probably better this way."

Sandra nods sagely. "I thought they should have called a snow day anyway, you know how often the weather report gets it wrong."

"Too many classes having their Valentine's parties today. I guess they thought they could risk it."

Sandra sighs heavily.

I continue to work through contingencies as I put myself in charge of the delivery of the cupcakes Aidan brought.

Just like he requested, they're chocolate with pink frosting and red sugared candy hearts and white sprinkles. I recognize the branding on the bakery's box. I don't usually like to eat sugar, but I've been to that bakery before—a fact that would scandalize the entire house who thinks I eat nothing but protein and wash it down with the blood of the innocent. And the kid is right, they do make good cupcakes.

Aidan has managed to sit across from Madison, his one true love.

"Hey Maddie, I brought the cupcakes. I got them because I know you like pink."

She turns from her friend, just now noticing Aidan. She looks at him like he is a tiny gross bug that she's examining under a glass.

"That's nice," she says, turning back to her friend.

"Did you like my valentine? I made it special for you." Aidan says, not yet understanding he's striking out hard with this brat. She is a cute kid, but he could do better.

"Oh, was that from you? The one with the little drawing of two stick figures holding hands, and all the glitter?"

He nods, hopefully.

She just rolls her eyes. "I have a boyfriend already. His name is Brayden, and he's in Mrs. Hancock's class. And even if I didn't, I wouldn't be your girlfriend. You're weird."

She giggles, and turns back to her friends who giggle with her. I want to burn the school down right now, but I reign in my psychopathy.

Aidan is about to start crying but he gets up and runs from the class before the tears can fall.

I am enraged right now. I know she's just a kid, and kids are like this, but I really want to do something... bad. I'm disturbed by my insane reaction to this childhood rejection. It happens to everyone. It's normal, I tell myself. I have gotten way too enmeshed in this kid's life. It's unhealthy. It's psychotic. And it has to stop. Why am I watching him?

Why am I checking up on him all the time? What the fuck do I hope to accomplish here? I have to end this imaginary parent-child relationship I've made up in my head. What the fuck is wrong with me?

One of the moms chases after Aidan to make sure he's okay, and I use the opportunity to slip out of the classroom. I go down the hallway in the opposite direction from where I can still hear the kid's sniffling. I've got a job to focus on, and it isn't being Aidan's fake dad.

I am so glad I get to go kill some people now.