Asher

Parent's day.The worst day of the fucking year. It was fine for the rest of my classmates, who had at least one parent they could get to come along for a while. For me it was the loneliest day of the year.

My sister, Eve, was fine. On the occasions that my mom could make it, she went with Eve, by my insistence. I could deal with being the only one without a parental figure in the room. Evie shouldn't have to.

The day would drag, while everyone played stupid games to strengthen family bonds, and showed off their kids.

Instead, I'd hang out on school grounds, out back where students went to smoke. A hidden, out-of-the-way place to get lost in.

That made it perfect, except for one thing.

This time, someone was already there.

"Hey, you can't come around here. This is my spot," the girl announced, jerking her blonde head back the way I'd come.

"I'm sure it's big enough for both of us." I stuck my hands in my pockets and observed her.

Winter DeLaurie. I knew her, of course. Hade Harbor High wasn't big enough that I could avoid knowing about the cheerleader from one of the oldest and richest families in town. Still, we'd never directly spoken.

"It's really not," she retorted, watching me lower myself onto a couple of old crates. I'd brought my sketchpad to pass the time. Now, I ignored her and selected a new page in the book.

I felt her hovering after a few minutes.

"What are you drawing?"

"I thought you didn't want to talk?" I reminded her.

She snapped her mouth shut with an audible click and went back to her seat. She folded her arms and stared at the wall in mulish silence. That suited me just fine. I didn't come to talk, either.

My pencil moved across the page, and I let my mind wander.

"So, I take it you don't have a parental figure to show off today either?" Winter asked after a few moments of silence.

"What an astute observation," I drawled in return.

She flushed prettily, though her gaze was fiery. "Well, how am I supposed to know? Maybe you have more than enough parents, but they just don't like you enough to take time off from work."

More like my dad didn't like me enough to be in my life, period. "Isn't that what therapists call projecting?" I ventured.

Winter jerked like I'd slapped her, her cheeks growing redder. Bullseye. Looked like daddy's spoiled little princess had a weak spot after all, and it was her infamous family. Interesting.

She shrugged. "You don't know anything about my family."

I nodded in agreement. "No, I don't, and you don't know anything about mine…but one thing is obvious. We're here, alone, on Parents' Day, hiding from forced fun and making heartfelt memories. It's fucking depressing."

She blinked at me a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, it is." Her icy expression had thawed a little. It made her more beautiful. "Do you come here often?" She wondered.

The tension between us dipped a moment.

I cocked my head at her. "Are you hitting on me?"

"What? No!" Her pale cheeks immediately shot through with pink. A blush. A real live, genuine blush. I'd hardly expected such na?ve innocence from the girl across from me, but there it was.

"I was just wondering if you always come here," she trailed off, waving an elegant hand around the graffitied walls and overturned crates that made up the only seating.

"If you're asking how often I skip out on Parents' Day, the answer is every damn year. Being one parent short of a set is a lifestyle for me. You?"

She tossed her head, a little line pinching between her caramel eyebrows as she cast her mind back. "My dad came once. It was freshman year. He stayed for about an hour."

I nodded to her. "Congratulations."

She blinked at me, and then laughed. It was surprisingly low and throaty. "Thanks."

After a few moments, I went back to my sketch. Now that I'd seen her laugh, I had more character to add to her picture-perfect profile.

"What are you drawing?" she asked after a little while.

"You."

"What? Really?" she shifted forward, trying to see my sketchpad.

I angled it away from her curious eyes. "It's not done."

"Why me?" she asked, her eyes lighting on mine. Hers were a clear, bright blue it would take ages to mix just right.

"It was either you, or the trash can."

She snorted softly. "What a compliment."

"Were you looking for one?" I wondered.

She swallowed and shook her head. "No, why would I be?"

After a few minutes, I remembered the snack I had in my backpack. I took out the box of empanadas my mom had lovingly made at home and packed up for me that morning. Sweet empanadas, with cinnamon and stewed apple. My mom was a phenomenal cook. Finishing half in hungry bites, I shoved the rest back into the box and held it out to Winter.

"Here," I offered. She stood and crossed to me, taking the box gingerly. "It's not poison. It's food," I told her.

She eyed it distrustfully. "Who made it?" she wondered.

"My mom, and it's the best fucking thing you'll ever eat. Give it back if you're going to be a picky brat about it," I told her, my amusement turning to annoyance as she looked at my mom's food with suspicion.

She clutched the box to her chest. "No. I'll eat it. In a little bit," she said quickly, taking the box and hurrying back to her perch.

I had no idea why I shared my food with her, only that letting her go hungry because she didn't want to go to the cafeteria for the parents' lunch didn't sit right with me.

We weren't so different, after all.

That afternoon, hidden from the world, I felt a connection to the girl sitting across from me, even though our worlds couldn't have been further apart.

We sat in comfortable silence. I sketched her, and she watched.

It was the first Parents' Day I hadn't hated.

I saw her again at the end of the day, when my mom and Eve rushed over to me. They'd had a great day, and I was glad. I could take anything, as long as they'd enjoyed it.

I was waiting at the bus stop with them, while a procession of expensive cars paraded past, taking the rich kids of HHH home. A shiny black town car with tinted windows pulled in, just short of the bus stop, and a driver jumped out. Yep, there were actual kids at HHH who had drivers to take them to and from school. He had something in his hand. A familiar-looking box. He rounded the car and headed for the trash can on the sidewalk and lobbed the box in. I didn't need to check to see what box it was.

I knew it was the one I'd given Winter. My feet were moving before I could stop myself. The town car pulled away, and I crossed the distance to the trash can. It took only a glance to see my mom's carefully prepared food, untouched, spilled out onto the trash underneath. I supposed I should be grateful that she hadn't thrown out the sketch I'd done of her and given her. The spoiled brat had even thrown away the Tupperware box. I reached in and grabbed the now empty box. My mom would miss it if I didn't bring it home.

I'd been wrong.

We were completely different.

Winter's world and mine weren't even in the same universe. Believing anything else was a waste of time, and not something I'd repeat.