“Your mother got carried away,” Dad says, appearing in the doorway wearing khakis and a custom button-down shirt with the name Dr. Neal Fox embroidered on it. I used to wish my dad was a different kind of doctor than a plastic surgeon, but then I met a patient of his who had his face bitten by a Pit Bull. He told me my dad was his hero. He said he would have wanted to die if my dad hadn’t helped him, and that changed my perspective on everything.

Dad kisses the top of my head. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

“Great,” I tell him.

“Did you take your pills?”

“Yes, Dad. You ask me that question every morning, and I always give you the same answer. When will you stop asking?”

“Never.”

“He’ll probably text you every morning when you’re in college,” Mom says, nudging my dad playfully.

My dad gives me a guilty grin as he wraps his arms around my mom’s waist and kisses her. “You know me so well, darling.”

Yes, my parents flirt with each other. Sometimes I groan about it, but most of my friends’ parents are divorced or not living together. It’s comforting knowing that my parents actually love each other.

Mom, who works as an advertising executive, pulls out her cell and points it at me.

I raise a brow. “What are you doing, Mom?”

“Taking a picture of you on your first day of senior year. It’s so exciting!” Her grin is so wide I want to laugh.

“Umm… Mom, I’m not graduating high school yet,” I tell her. “It’s just the first day. What if I get all Cs? Or Ds? Are you going to take a picture of me then?”

“Of course we will, Monika,” Dad says as he takes a sip of his morning tea. “But if you get all As you can pick what college you want to go to. That’ll be a bonus.”

“No pressure there, Dad,” I say jokingly. It’s no secret that my dad graduated at the top of his class.

“We just want you to do your best,” Mom says, snapping another pic. “If you don’t, your uncle Thomas will come here and talk some sense into you.”

“Cool. I love Uncle Thomas, even if he is a hardass.” I give my parents a questioning look. “If Cs are my best, you’re both okay with it?”

My parents glance at each other, then look back at me.

“You’re not a C student, Monika,” Mom says.

“And neither is your boyfriend,” Dad chimes in. “From what I understand, Trey is on track to be valedictorian of Fremont High.”

“How did you know?”

He holds up his mug in salute. “Trey told me. That boy is a genius.”

Leave it to my boyfriend to talk to my father about colleges and school rank. That and football are his go-to topics of conversation.

My cell buzzes. It’s a text from Genius Boy himself.

TREY:  I’m outside. You ready?

ME:  Yeah. 1 sec.

“Genius Boy is here,” I tell my parents, shoving the rest of a pancake into my mouth.

“Does he want to come in?” Dad asks. “Tell him there’s plenty of leftover pancakes and eggs.”

ME:  My p’s want to know if you want pancakes & eggs.

TREY:  I already ate. Make sure you tell them I said thanks!

ME:  Kiss ass.

TREY: 

I take another forkful of eggs, hug my parents good-bye as I set my dishes in the sink, and head out the door.

My mom follows with her cell in hand.

“Let me take a picture of you two,” she calls out, waving to Trey as she follows me out of the house in her high heels.

She doesn’t realize that Victor Salazar is in Trey’s car. My mom halts as soon as she notices him.

“Oh,” she says, taken aback.

No matter what I tell my parents, Vic’s reputation speaks for itself. He’s been arrested for fighting more than a few times, and they don’t like that we have the same friends. He also has a perpetual grim look on his face. I think it’s his way of telling people not to get too close so they don’t know how messed up his family life is.

“Okay, um, well…” Mom practically stutters.

Trey steps out of the car. “Vic, come on. Mrs. Fox wants to take a picture of us.”

“I think she wants to take a picture of just you and Monika,” Vic says, his gravelly voice sounding like he doesn’t give a shit if he’s included in the picture.

I open the passenger door and pull on Vic’s arm. “Come on,” I say. “It’s picture time.”