The Creativity Corner awards hadn’t made me nervous at all, but as I left the safe embrace of the pop culture junkies and made my way toward the taxidermy awards banquet, my stomach started tying itself in knots. I clutched my ticket in my sweaty hand and forced my feet to keep moving, even though it would’ve been so much easier to forget the whole thing and head straight to the Farewell Ball with my friends.
Vanessa had stood up to Soleil even though she’d been terrified. Phoebe had swallowed her pride and shouldered the blame for ruining her friendship with Christina. If they could be strong, so could I. I had to do this, or nothing would change, and I’d be miserable forever.
The C-wing ballroom door was open, and I could hear applause coming from inside. The crowd sounded pretty lively, considering the banquet had been going on for two and a half hours already. I wasn’t sorry to have missed most of it; four years ago, my parents had made me sit through the entire thing in case Dad won one of the big awards at the end. Most of it was a blur, but I remembered the giant, intricate napkin sculptures on the tables, the girls in prom dresses who’d sung the national anthem, and the way the emcee had led everyone in the Lord’s Prayer, which I hadn’t known. I also remembered the way my mom had asked a waiter for “the vegetarian option” just to see the shocked and appalled expressions on everyone’s faces. Dad had rolled his eyes and acted exasperated, but I could tell he thought it was funny.
I held up my ticket, and the bored girl at the door waved me through. The inside of the room looked like a charity ball crossed with a rodeo; about two-thirds of the people were dressed in suits and floor-length gowns, and the remaining third wore denim and camo, bolo ties and cowboy boots. People murmured quietly among themselves as the emcee announced award after award. The tables were littered with the remains of dinner, plates scattered with gnawed bones and pools of gravy, and my stomach lurched again. I forced myself to look away and scan the room for my dad.
I spotted Jeremy right away, sitting at the head table in an impeccable black suit and a red bow tie. There was Bernice, the lady with the boars, in a flowered dress; she had a blue ribbon on the table in front of her, and I was sad to know she wouldn’t be able to show it off to her best friend. Harley Stuyvesant’s shock of white hair made him super conspicuous, even across the room, and I almost laughed out loud when I thought of him belting out Spice Girls lyrics. I’d never be able to look at him the same way again.
And then I spotted my dad, sitting toward the right side of the room at a table full of strangers. I took a deep breath and went over.
“Hey,” I whispered.
He looked up, and for a second it was like he didn’t even recognize me. “Callie? What are you doing here?”
“I’m—I thought I’d—” My eyes fell on the ribbons sitting in front of him: first place for turkeys, third for large mammals. “Oh wow, the turkeys won? Congratulations.” In the lower divisions, everyone who scored more than ninety points got a first place ribbon, but in the master division, there were only three awards total. Getting one was kind of a big deal.
“Thank you,” he said, but he sounded wary, like he couldn’t trust that I actually meant it.
Someone touched my shoulder, and I turned to find a tall stranger behind me. “Here, honey, take my chair,” he said in a Southern drawl. “I’ve gotta go catch my flight.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.” I scooted the chair up to my dad’s table, and the guy next to him moved over to make space for me. Being so close to my dad made me feel trapped, but I kept my eyes on the emcee and took deep breaths. Soon the banquet would be over, and I could say what I needed to say, and then I could go find my friends and have one last night of fun before I went home.
The emcee moved on to the big awards of the night, and the room went quiet. The Best in World Collective Arts Award went to a group of Japanese guys for their herd of running gazelles, and Judges’ Choice Best in Show went to Harley for his musk ox, which made my dad let out a frustrated huffing sound. As the emcee started listing the winners of the Competitors Awards, which came with cash prizes, I realized my dad was twisting his napkin under the table. He wasn’t just annoyed about his rival’s success; he was actually nervous.
But he didn’t need to worry. Even though the judges had chosen to award only eight of the twelve possible Best in World titles this year, my dad still got one of them for his beloved strutting turkeys. The winners got a standing ovation as they posed together for a picture at the front of the room, and I stood up, too. If he was going to be all-consumed by his work, at least it was nice to know it was some of the best work in the world.
The emcee finished up by reminding everyone about the wind-down party, and I shuddered. My whole family had gone the first time I came to this convention, and even though I had only been in third grade, I had a clear memory of a burly taxidermist singing a karaoke ballad about cowboys. I also remembered dancing with my mom, who spun me in circles until I fell over laughing.
My dad’s progress back to the table was slow; everyone wanted to shake his hand. My knees felt a little wobbly, but I stayed standing as I waited for him. Being on my feet made me feel a little more in control.
He finally arrived, picked up his ribbons from the table, and tucked them gently inside his jacket. And then he turned to me and said, “So.”
“So. Um. We should talk.”
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go outside.”
We made our way out of the ballroom and took the escalator down to the ground floor, and as we walked through the sliding glass doors, I realized I hadn’t left the hotel at all in nearly five days. The Florida air was so humid it felt like soup in my lungs, but it was still a relief to breathe it in. There were palm trees lining the driveway, each with its own individual spotlight, and I listened to them rustle as I gathered my thoughts and my courage.
“So,” my dad said again.
There wasn’t really a good way to say any of the things I wanted to tell him, so I just launched in. “I know you’re probably still pissed at me about the demo. You said some pretty awful stuff to me yesterday, and I probably deserved it. But I still can’t believe you went behind my back and lied to Mom about me, and I think you deserved the stuff I said to you, too.”
“Callie, I—”
“I want to spend the summer with her,” I said. “She did a really crappy thing last year, and she shouldn’t have left us like she did. But she’s making a big effort to have a normal relationship with me now, and we’re finally in a pretty good place, and we need time together. I’m not going to let you stop me from having that. If you really want to go to court over it, we can, but if I say I want to go out there, I’m pretty sure the judge is going to let me.”
“I really don’t think—” my dad started, but I held up my hand.
“No, listen. You need to let me say everything I want to say, okay?”
He nodded, and I took a deep breath.
“I’m not going to ask Mom if I can live in Arizona full-time,” I said. “I thought about it, and I want to come home and finish high school in D.C. But you and I have to start trying harder with each other, even though we’re really different people, because we’re a family, and families don’t get to just … quit like that. They get mad, and they fight, and that’s fine, but in the end, they try to be there for each other. And maybe we’ll never be super close, but you’re what I have, and I’m what you have, and we’ve got to do better.”
My dad stood there in silence for a minute. I wondered if he was gearing up to say something about how disrespectful I was being on his big important night. But instead, he nodded slowly. Maybe it was the way the light from the lobby was hitting his face, but he suddenly looked older to me, more tired than I had ever seen him.
“You’re right,” he answered. I couldn’t even remember the last time he’d said that to me.
“I miss the way things used to be, with all of us together, and I think maybe you do, too.” The words made the lump in my throat spring back up, and I struggled to swallow it down. “But I’m still here, even though she’s gone, and I still need you to be my dad.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve made some mistakes. And I want you to come back home. I really do.”
“I will, but only if we try harder. We have to actually talk to each other, and not just so you can tell me how much I suck at everything.”
My dad scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s not … I was just trying to help you, Cal. I know I can be a little harsh, but you have so much potential, and … I just don’t want to see you waste any of it.”
“That’s not what I need from you, though. I need you to listen to me and support me and ask me questions about stuff I care about. Real-life stuff, not just work stuff. When I said I was quitting as your assistant, I was serious. I want to be your kid, not your employee.”
He nodded again, and when he looked at me, I felt like he was actually seeing me for the first time in two years. Not like yesterday, when he saw straight through me to the bad things I had done. This time it was like he was just looking at his daughter.
“I’ll start,” I said. “Congratulations on the turkeys and the Best in World. That’s really great. I know you worked incredibly hard, and the animals came out beautiful.”
Dad smiled a little. “Thank you, Callie.”
“And I think your mounts are way better than Harley’s.”
His smile got a little bigger. “They are, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, they really are. Now you go. You say something real to me.”
He was quiet for so long that I started to wonder if he even remembered how to talk about things other than taxidermy. But then he said, “You mentioned something about going to a class the other day?”
“Yeah,” I said, because even though it was vague, it was something. “It was a workshop with the hosts of this podcast I love. It’s called A Thousand Words. They were here for the fan convention that’s happening in A-wing.”
“And … how was that?”
“It was amazing. I learned so much. And then these girls I met and I made our own podcast in the same style for this competition. That’s what I was doing last night and today. I can play it for you in the car on the way home, if, um, if you’re interested.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “On the radio?”
“No, I have it on my phone.”
“Your phone? But how …”
“We can play it on the car stereo.” He still looked baffled, and I rolled my eyes. “There’s a cable, Dad. The phone connects to the car. I’ll set it up.”
And then I was laughing. It just felt so normal, a sixteen-year-old girl getting frustrated that her dad didn’t know how to use technology. It had been so long since anything in my family had felt remotely normal.
“Hey,” I said. “Do you want to meet my friends? They’re over at this dance in A-wing. I could introduce you.”
“I should really—” he started, but then he broke off. “Yes. Okay.”
And there it was. He was trying.
I led the way, and when we reached the hall full of people dressed as My Little Ponies and Princess Leias and anime characters, Dad moved a little closer to my side. The dance was already in full swing in the ballroom; disco balls flung colored specks of light everywhere, and the beat of a Katy Perry song throbbed loudly enough that I could feel it deep in my chest.
“Callie, over here!” someone called, and I turned to see Vanessa waving at me from the food table. As I got closer, I noticed that her other hand was entwined with Merry’s, and I gave her a huge, cheesy OMG, you did it smile. She beamed and looked at the floor.
Phoebe joined us, a cup of punch in each hand. “Hey, you made it! You want one of these? I can get more.” She looked back and forth between my dad and me, then raised her eyebrows like, How did it go?
I smiled at her. “I’ll get some later. Guys, this is my dad. He just won this huge taxidermy award. Dad, this is Phoebe and Vanessa, the girls who made the podcast with me. And this is—”
“—Merry, my personfriend for the evening,” Vanessa jumped in. Even in the swirling, rainbow-colored lights, I could tell she was blushing. “It’s nice to meet you, Callie’s dad.”
My dad blinked. “Person … friend …?”
“Excuse me,” said a voice behind me. “Are you the girls who made the podcast?”
“Yeah, we—” I started, but when I turned around, the words died on my lips. Standing right in front of me were the hosts of A Thousand Words.
“I thought I recognized your hair,” said Anica. She was wearing an orange dress, and she glowed under the colored lights. When she held out her hand, the stack of wooden bangles on her wrist clinked together. “Hi, I’m—”
“I know,” I said. “Oh my god. I— You—” I turned to Vanessa and Phoebe. “These are—Anica—Rafael—A Thousand Words. Hosts. Like, right here. I—holy sh— Um. Sharks. Holy sharks.” My cheeks were flaming now, and I had apparently forgotten how to form sentences. I realized I had been holding on to Anica’s hand for way too long, and I let go.
“Callie’s a big fan,” Vanessa said. “Hi, I’m Vanessa, and that’s Phoebe.”
“Hey,” Phoebe said. I could tell it was taking everything she had not to laugh at me.
“We loved your entry for the Creativity Corner,” Rafael said as he gave my hand a firm shake. His voice was even better up close, despite the noise of the dance. All I wanted in life was for Katy Perry to shut up so I could hear him better.
“Thank you,” I breathed. “Thank you so much.”
“You guys are really talented storytellers,” Anica said. “Do you have your own podcast?”
Phoebe shook her head. “This was our first time.”
“Seriously? Wow. What a spectacular first attempt.”
Vanessa smiled at me. “Thanks! It was really fun.”
“You should keep going for sure,” Rafael said. “We’d love to hear more from you guys.”
“If you have any questions or you need someone to listen to your stuff, feel free to reach out to us,” Anica said. “We love helping people who are just starting out. Here’s my card. My email is right here at the bottom.”
I reached out and snatched the card before anyone else could get it. It was just normal card stock, but it felt electric, like it was buzzing in my hand. I was pretty sure my head was about to explode.
“I’m— You guys are so inspiring,” I blurted. “I’ve listened to every single episode of A Thousand Words like ten times. The one with the fourth graders! And the one with the veterans, and— The way you put stories together, it’s— I love you guys.”
Anica laughed. “Thank you. We’re really honored.”
“Keep up the good work, okay?” Rafael said.
Anica squeezed my arm, and then she and Rafael turned to go. I watched her until her orange skirt disappeared into the crowd.
Vanessa squealed and slung her arm around my shoulders. “They liked it!”
“They want to hear more from us,” I said. “I think I’m going to faint.”
Phoebe laughed and pressed a cup of punch into my hand. “Steady, friend. You better drink this.” I drained it in two gulps and handed it back.
“We could do more episodes, you know,” Vanessa said. “Longer ones. It’s not like we’d have to be in the same place to keep working together.”
Phoebe nodded hard. “We totally could.”
“Those people,” my dad said. “They … ran the class you went to?”
“Yes!” I said. “They’re so amazing. I’ll play you their podcast on the way home, too. It’s way better than ours.”
“They certainly seemed impressed by you girls,” he said. “Well done.”
The Katy Perry song finally ended, and Lady Gaga started blasting through the speakers. “I love this song!” Merry yelled, grabbing Vanessa’s hand and tugging her toward the floor. “We have to dance!”
Vanessa stumbled along behind them. “You guys, too!” she shouted over her shoulder. “Come on!”
Phoebe followed right away, arms snaking up over her head and hair flying out behind her as she twirled around and around. Vanessa laughed as Merry grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer. None of them were good dancers, but all three of them looked so happy as the swirling lights played over their upturned faces, and it made them beautiful.
I turned to my dad. “Do you … maybe want to dance with me?”
Spinning around a crowded ballroom floor to “Born This Way” with his adrenaline-drunk teenage daughter was probably the last thing in the world my dad wanted to do. But he only hesitated for a minute before he offered his arm to me.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s dance.”
And we did.