Pop isn’t happy with me. He says this phrase three times while we unpack our suitcases in the hotel room. I feel guilty enough that I forget to whine—again—about sharing a room with him. I mean, I’m an adult woman, and he’s my dad. Privacy makes sense under these circumstances.

“You live in my house and use my bathrooms. Suck it up, buttercup,” he says when I finally distract his aggravation at my ditching him early by focusing his aggravation on my wanting a separate room now.

“Normal men wouldn’t want to share a room with their daughter.”

“I’ve been considered superior all my life,” Pop says and stretches out on the bed near the window. “You really have no idea how much more superior either.”

I grin at his arrogance. Having known enough men his age, I’m well aware Pop’s in the top one percent of cool. That doesn’t mean I should applaud his need for applause. He gets plenty of ass-kissing from the club guys who think his farts smell like a unicorn’s epiphanies.

“Get ready to eat,” he says while closing his eyes.

“I just ate with Cap.”

“That was your mistake, not mine. No way am I eating alone in this shithole.”

“White Horse seems like a nice enough town. You’ll be fine.”

Pop rolls up into a standing position. “Nope. You’re coming.”

“I have menstrual cramps.”

“So do I, kid,” he says, walking to the door. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. I’m running downstairs to ask the front desk about the pool hours. I might want to get in a few laps before bed.”

We both know Pop could save time by calling down to the front desk, but he figures I’ll throw a fit about dinner. His escape allows me time to freak out and get over it without him acting as a witness.

Pop’s way off base about where my mind is because I don’t get angry once he leaves the room. I grab my phone and call home.

Second-born sister, Miranda—aka Rando these days—answers Mom’s cell.

“Where’s Mom?” I ask, instantly annoyed.

“In the shower.”

“Why are you answering her phone?”

“I’m guarding her while she takes a shower.”

“Why?”

“I had a dream she died in the shower because Pop wasn’t here to protect her.”

My sister swears some of her dreams came true in the past. Normal people call it déjà vu. Rando calls it “her gift of sight.” In the past, her premonitions were of minor incidents. Mom dying in the shower isn’t trivial. Though I doubt Rando’s “visions,” I’d rather play things safe when it comes to Mom.

“I’m glad you’re there for her.”

“What do you want?” Rando says, not buying my sincere comment.

“Well, obviously, I wanted to talk to Mom. That would be why I called her phone.”

“Talk about what?”

“I met a man, and she did that once. I assumed she’d have advice.”

“I’ve met men.”

“Not men like Casper.”

“Pop said you had a crush on a giant.”

“It’s not a crush if he likes me back.”

“If you say so,” Rando says in her best deadpan voice—and my sister can deadpan with the best of them.

“How long has Mom been in the shower?”

“She stepped in right before you called. It could be awhile since she doesn’t have Pop here to satisfy her womanly needs.”

“I doubt she’s masturbating with you just outside the bathroom.”

“Womanly. Needs.”

“Does she know you think she might die?”

“Yes.”

“She’s not masturbating then.”

“Say it with me, ‘Womanly needs.’”

“Pop’s been gone less than a day. She isn’t that horny.”

“I she-bop four times a day.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Prove it.”

“No, thanks.”

“What’s the advice you need about the Colossal Casper?”

“He likes to be called Cap.”

“We all like things.”

Rolling my eyes, I sense Rando will lose interest soon. “Pop and I are having dinner with Cap and his dad tomorrow. I wish I could see Cap sooner. I even got it in my head to invite him over to swim in the hotel pool.”

“So you can check out his abs?”

“And his chest and legs and shoulders. Basically the entire package.”

“Makes sense. You want to know if he’s worth slobbering over and autumn attire hides too much.”

“Is inviting him over too forward?”

“Is that a real question?”

“Fucking-A, it is.”

“Don’t curse the alphabet at me, young lady.”

“Just help me, please. I’m worried I read too much into his behavior and I’ll look stupid if I invite him over.”

Rando sighs loudly, and I think she might hang up on me. Instead, she says, “You could die tomorrow. On your way to dinner with the giant hunk, you could crash your Harley and get decapitated. Just imagine your head rolling down the road.”

“What a darling picture you’ve painted for me.”

“In that last moment, before your head is torn from your body, do you really want to look back and regret such a small decision like whether to invite a guy to go swimming? I mean, shit, we’re not in high school anymore. Just do what you want.”

“If this is my last night on earth, I would very much like to spend it with a mostly naked giant.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“What about Pop?”

“I don’t think he’s into men.”

“No, I don’t suspect he is. I also don’t suspect he’ll let me meet Cap down at the pool alone.”

“Pop knows you’re not a little kid. He just said the other day how you needed to grow the fuck up already.”

Balking, I growl, “When the hell did he say that?”

“Fine, I might have said it. Or perhaps it was Lily. People talk shit about you a lot, so it’s a little difficult to keep the insults straight. Point being, Pop did not correct the person who said you needed to grow up.”

“I am grown up,” I mutter. “Mature beyond my years.”

“No one thinks that.”

“Well, I was spoiled by Mom and Pop. They should have given me more chores or something.”

“Yeah, they dropped the ball with you, but they were probably tired by the time you came along. Colton wore them out with his many, many attempts to electrocute himself by shoving things in electrical sockets.”

Never have I wished more that Rando and I were closer. I need a girlfriend to talk to, but the twins are in Florida, and my sisters act like my sisters rather than my friends.

“Rando, I really like this guy. When I gave him shit earlier, you know, as I’m prone to do when feeling like a loser surrounded by better people, he was mellow about it. Not like he was a pussy, but like my crap didn’t faze him. It was sexy.”

“Then get him into a swimsuit and check out the goods. You know how that song goes, ‘Live like you were about to have your head violently wrenched from your body.’”

“That is a beautiful song.”

“Mom’s almost finished with her shower. I can hear her singing. The she-bop is over, and her womanly needs are officially satisfied. Do you want to wait a few minutes until she’s done?”

“Not now that you’ve got me thinking of Mom masturbating.”

“It’s a natural thing. Don’t be such a weirdo.”

“Shouldn’t you be scheduling the next round between your hand and muff?”

“I don’t schedule my life, Audrey. That’s why I’m happy, and you’re a miserable Farmer Ted.”

“How dare you use my insult against me?” I demand, but Rando’s already hung up.

My sister’s impulsiveness might give me perpetual gas, but she isn’t wrong about living my life more fearlessly. The only thing I have going for me in the grand scheme of things might be my last name, but being a Johansson has always afforded me the protection to fail.

Tonight, I plan to take a giant-sized leap with a shirtless, wet giant. If we crash and burn, I have no doubt Pop will heal my heart with an abundance of candy along with violent threats against the giant’s likely gigantic dick.