Happy Together
And I Am Never This Person
Never This Certain
But You Got Me Willing To Try
Willing To Try
I Wanna Try
Never This Certain
But You Got Me Willing To Try
Willing To Try
I Wanna Try
“You stand at the edge of the dark forest. What do you do?”
Sally’s eyes were bright as she considered her move.
“I want to send my elf ranger, Aradove, forward to scout ahead. She can see in the dark!”
Willow rolled the dice over the coffee table and let them land.
“Aradove moves silently through the underbrush, her keen eyes spotting a hidden path. As she approaches, she hears a faint whisper in the wind. It sounds like an enchanting melody. What do you do?”
Sally, sitting cross-legged on a cushion on the floor, rocked back and forth as she planned her next move.
“I—”
Before she could finish her answer, a key rustled in the front door and Tara stepped through. Without a chance for greetings, Tara promptly waved her phone in her hand, her expression stern.
“Do you two want to tell me why I had to leave my first day on campus early to take a panicked call from your school principal asking us not to sue them?”
“They thought we would sue?” Willow asked in surprise, then quickly stood and wiped her hands on her thighs, “I mean, um. Sorry, baby. I didn’t know they’d call you. I was gonna tell you as soon as you got home. Did you miss class?”
“No,” Tara replied, in a slow, pointed fashion, “I was finished. But it did interrupt my listening to past interviews for this radio show you’ve signed me up for tomorrow.”
Willow chuckled nervously.
“I’m, uh, in the double dog house huh?”
Tara took a step forward, her messenger bag still sitting across her chest.
“What. Happened. At. School?”
Willow glanced down at Sally.
“Uh, maybe go figure out Aradove’s next move in your room?”
Sally didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing her notepad and bolting around the corner to her bedroom.
Tara raised an eyebrow silently.
Willow gulped.
“Okay, I got a phone call at lunchtime just saying I needed to come down to the school, that there had been an incident,” she rattled off in a panic, “So I hopped in the car and got down there and Sally was waiting outside the principal’s office all sullen like. The principal brought us in and started lecturing me that Sally had pushed another student over and that they had a zero-tolerance policy for violence. And then she said they were suspending her for the rest of the day! I ask Sally what happened and she tells me all about this kid that called her or well, um, uh, the d-word.”
Tara moved her head in a manner that expressed a request for clarification.
“Dick?” she prompted, “Douche?”
Willow swallowed deeply.
“I-I can’t say the word again, Tara,” she said quietly, “It haunts me that I called you it once.”
Tara’s brow slowly unfurrowed.
“Oh,” she said, blowing out a long breath, “That d-word.”
Willow nodded sullenly.
“And Sally thought he was talking about us, y’know, and she got mad and said it wasn’t a nice word, like we told her, remember?” she said with a repetitive nod, “And he made some kind of face, and taunted her — the details were vague but it sounded suitably mocking and that’s when the alleged tripping occurred.”
Tara sunk onto the couch. Willow perched beside her.
“On, um, further investigation it turns out he said ‘tyke’,” she admitted, making Tara’s eyes widen, “But his face, definitely of the mocking.”
She nodded definitively then pulled a face.
“But probably not homophobic,” she said, grimacing some more, “What with the two Dads showing up.”
Tara closed her eyes and fell back against the seat.
“So that’s why the principal was pushing me to read their inclusion policy.”
Willow sat back with her.
“I may have…made the point. Loudly. Before knowing about the t-not-d situation.”
Tara slowly turned her head toward Willow and though she was trying hard to remain stern, the barest hint of a sloping smile curved on her face.
“Willow Rosenberg did you yell at a teacher?” she asked in a suitably scandalous tone.
Willow went red but couldn’t help a matching grin.
“I don’t know what came over me,” she stage-whispered, “I was so indignant at the injustice for her. I said they couldn’t suspend her for the rest of the day because I was taking her out of school for the day instead. I made her miss class!”
Tara reached out and touched Willow’s cheek.
“And what did you say to her afterward?”
Willow’s nose scrunched up sheepishly.
“I took her for ice cream?”
Tara’s fingers turned flat on Willow’s jaw and then curled under her chin to pull her in for a kiss.
Willow took in a gasp at the intensity and willingly allowed Tara to maul her lips for a few moments before separating.
“So, uh…I’m not in the double dog house?”
“What would I do without your smart mouth?” Tara asked affectionately as she rubbed her thumb over Willow’s bottom lip, “But we do have to be on our best behavior with the school. It seems we dodged a bullet this time but we don’t want to ruffle any feathers. Anything on her permanent record is on our permanent record. Our court date is just a few weeks away and we're lucky the principal is willing to chalk this up to a misunderstanding and wipe the slate clean.”
“So she can go back?” Willow asked anxiously.
She hadn't considered until just this moment how bad this all could have played out. A different school, a different principal. She acted recklessly and it could have lost them everything.
“If we don’t sue apparently,” Tara replied with a sigh, “I’m guessing even a sniff of discrimination looks very, very bad for them. The principal seemed very apologetic about how your meeting with the vice went. She said she prefers to handle things differently and in the future, they won't hand out punishments until everyone has given their side and try to see if the parents can work it out between them first.”
“Wait…” Willow sat up straight and held up a hand, “That was the vice principal? She totally sold herself as the principal! No wonder she was on a power trip!”
“Acting vice, Dr. Lewis said,” Tara nodded.
“Dr. Lewis is the principal, I knew that,” Willow snapped her fingers, “God, I’m an idiot! And so is that ‘vice’, she was totally dismissive.”
“Dr. Lewis maybe alluded that she wasn’t up for the permanent position,” Tara added.
Willow fell back onto the couch, throwing her hands up.
“Well, that makes me feel a bit better about sending Sally back there. Not that we have much choice. What about the other kid?”
Tara leaned into Willow, who automatically put an arm around her.
“The boy's parents were spoken to as well and she suggested we all just treat tomorrow as Day 1 again. She wants to link Sally in with their guidance team to help her transition into the new school. But she stressed that the behavior today can’t be repeated. By anyone.”
“I know,” Willow replied solemnly, “I lost my head. It won't happen again. Consider the willies officially put up me.”
Her nose scrunched again.
“Oh, ick.”
“Willow—”
Willow held up a hand.
“Tara, I get it, I promise,” she turned to look Tara directly in the eye, “We're not negotiating an appearance fee or blagging our way into an Indian meditation retreat. We have to consider every move we make is being watched and judged, especially our response to something like this. I promise I'm fixing my level head onto my shoulders for everything going forward.”
Tara squeezed Willow's hand.
“On the quiet,” she said with a small eyebrow arch, “I'm very proud about how you stood up for her. She needs that.”
Willow smiled softly.
“Don't worry, I know how to talk teacher. I will walk that tightrope much better in the future.”
Tara seemed to relax.
“Okay. Good. But we have to have a talk with her about not responding like that again.”
“He’s lucky I only tripped him,” Sally’s quiet voice carried through her open bedroom door.
Willow and Tara exchanged a glance.
“What was that?” Tara spoke loudly and pointedly.
Sally pushed herself out of her room and stood with her arms folded across her chest.
“I said I won’t trip any more stupid boys,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Unless they touch you first,” Tara replied.
“Then you do whatever you have to,” Willow nodded seriously.
Sally’s eyes widened.
“Wait, really?”
Willow and Tara nodded in sync.
“Only if you actually feel threatened. Otherwise, you need to come to a teacher or us and we will help you figure it out,” Willow said emphatically, “That’s what family does.”
Sally’s arms dropped, her hands stuffing into her pockets instead.
“It is?”
“It is,” Tara confirmed with a smile, before flipping the flap on her bag to bring out papers, “Now, I picked up your homework.”
Sally threw herself onto the floor.
“Ugh.”
“What do we have?” Willow asked as Tara handed over the pages.
“Math,” Sally replied in a bored tone.
“I am the queen of math,” Willow added with some enthusiasm, “What are we talking about? Ratios? Rates? Percentages?”
Sally let the papers spew out across the coffee table.
“Negative numbers.”
Willow looked at her girlfriend with eager eyes.
“Ooh, Tara, you know what that means?” she said, clapping her hands, “I think it’s time to break out the homework songs.”
Tara grinned, stood to drop her bag on the kitchen table, and pulled out her guitar from the closet. She sat back next to Willow and strummed a cord.
“Oh, negative numbers, you're misunderstood,” Willow sang off-key but full of passion, “But you're essential, you're part of the good…”
“When the balance tips the other way, negative numbers help us save the day…” Tara sang with a bit more harmony and she and Willow bumped shoulders.
Sally let out a laugh and then promptly brought her hand up to her mouth, looking shocked. She slowly dropped it and scrunched up her face.
“I feel weird.”
“Weird how sweetie?” Tara asked with concern.
Sally made some fleeting hand motions.
“You two are being totally lame but I don’t…hate it?” she asked in confusion, “It makes me feel kinda warm and like…a llama is tickling me inside my stomach.”
She fell back onto the floor dramatically.
“I’m dying aren’t I?”
Willow and Tara laughed.
“Sweetie, I think you feel happy.”
Sally bolted up into a sitting position.
“Gross!”
Willow and Tara laughed again and Tara started to strum again.
“So, here's to negative numbers, misunderstood no more. In the world of math, you're an open door.”
“A tool we can count on, we'll celebrate you,” Willow added in, kissing Tara’s cheek, “In this math symphony, you'll shine through and through.”
Sally pouted.
She liked being lame.
And she hated that she liked it.
But not enough to stop.
Willow slipped under the covers as Tara lotioned up her arms beside her on the bed.
“She actually whizzed through those math questions once we sang our songs. I noticed she has a really good memory for those kinds of things. I don’t think anyone ever actually tried to teach her in a way she understands. Once she gets things she’s so quick.”
Tara pulled the covers back beside Willow and got into bed. She kissed Willow’s cheek.
“She’s lucky to have a big sister like you.”
Willow smiled a sweet little confused smile.
“Me? That’s you.”
“Well you’re sure acting like it,” Tara smiled back.
Willow happily snuggled down.
“Well, I guess. I mean…yeah, I’m…” she turned her head on the pillow toward Tara, “Is it just me or are we not totally messing up this parenting thing? Not counting today’s little…blip.”
Tara pursed her lips thoughtfully.
“We’re only a few weeks in,” she said guardedly, “But I’d give us a cautious ‘B’.”
Willow looked pained.
“That makes my stomach acid-y,” she said, looking up at the ceiling and then back at Tara, “Is there some kind of extra credit?”
Tara nodded.
“Impressing the judge at the 90-day hearing.”
“Right,” Willow nodded back, “We got this. Nothing has ever come between me and an ‘A’ before.”
She grinned.
“Well, your lips did make me defer college.”
Tara reached out and squished Willow’s lips.
“Payback for all my years of yearning.”
Willow batted Tara’s hand away and rolled on top of her.
“And, uh, what exactly were you yearning for?” she asked raising her eyebrows suggestively, “Exactly.”
She pressed her hips into Tara, whose tongue visibly moved around her mouth to regain moisture.
“Oh darling,” she said breathlessly, “There aren’t enough hours in the world for me to tell you all of that.”
Willow had one hand slide up Tara’s bare leg to the hem of her sleep shorts. Her fingers pushed underneath and danced on Tara’s thigh.
“How about I come up with something of my own?”
She pressed her lips into Tara’s neck and extended her tongue up to whisper breathlessly in her ear.
“I’m so into you I can barely breathe.”
Tara’s hips circled back into the bed and she reached for Willow’s wrist. She lifted Willow’s arm to her mouth and kissed down into the crook of her elbow. Hearing Willow’s breath quicken with every press she pushed Willow’s hand back down between her legs, letting it go beneath her shorts again but under the waistband this time.
“I’m so into you I can barely stay still,” she replied, squeezing her thighs together indicatively.
Willow’s fingers pushed past soft hairs and dipped into the waiting wetness.
“I think,” she said in a raspy tone, “I think you watched me get changed through the window.”
Tara’s eyes had been closed but they flew open at that. Willow was already gazing down at her, eyes lidded and lips parted.
“Yeah,” she said, her heart almost audibly pounding, “I knew. I-I left the curtains open on purpose.”
She moved two fingers up and over Tara’s clit, who released a short, vibrating moan.
“I couldn’t even admit it to myself but I would strip for you every night. I didn’t even know if you were always there or not. I couldn’t look, I couldn’t face it but I did it and then I’d get into bed and imagine your hand rubbing furiously between your legs and—”
Willow was cut off as Tara grabbed the back of her head and pulled their mouths together. She rolled them over and yanked at the tie of Willow’s pajama bottoms, loosening them so she could slide her hand underneath. Willow gasped and adjusted her hips to allow better access and began to mirror the tug and slide of Tara’s hand.
No more words were said; letting their bodies do the talking as their fingers worked each other in the ways they knew how and didn’t have to just imagine.
Tara pushed her hips so hard against Willow that she couldn’t hold off the waves when they began to crash. A deep guttural groan as she bit on Willow’s bottom lip was all Willow needed to feel the sucker punch in her gut of hot, white pleasure.
They crashed back into the pillows with bruised lips and bunched pjs but smiling and unable to keep their eyes off each other.
After a few moments, Tara reached up and tapped the corner of Willow’s mouth with her thumb.
“Did you really know?”
Willow took the tip of Tara’s finger between her teeth and nibbled gently before releasing and kissing it.
“In my very-closeted, very-self-hating way.”
Tara turned a fresh red and Willow sluggishly turned on her side, rubbing Tara’s arm up and down.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed. We had a very weird, tortured tango going on. And like I said, I was putting on a show.”
Tara swallowed deeply.
“How come you never said anything?”
Willow just arched an eyebrow.
“Do you know how much I’ve never unpacked about all those years?” she asked, then glanced away shyly, “I’ve actually been thinking about finding a therapist. I think me wanting to do a psych class was my psyche telling me that.”
Tara was silent for a moment.
“I-I’ve been thinking the same,” she replied, then quickly clarified, “For me.”
Their eyes met again. Tara’s began to turn glassy.
“I-I’ve been struggling with Sally coming into our lives. And the selfish parts of me…”
She stumbled and Willow put her head right down beside Tara’s, sharing her pillow.
“It’s okay. You’re safe here.”
Tara swallowed again and turned her head on the pillow.
“When she first came into our lives I was so worried about you not…” she paused and bit her lip, “It’s like suddenly I was a package deal and I didn’t know if you wanted to sign for the package. And I was ashamed that I…I wanted to choose you.”
One tear fell. Willow caught it with her finger.
“I would never have made you do that.”
Tara nodded.
“I know. I don’t feel like that anymore. I don’t feel like she and I are a package deal,” she said, letting a smile come out, “We're all a package deal.”
“Signed, sealed, delivered,” Willow replied with a pep in her voice, “You would have to push me out of your life and I wouldn’t make it easy. Wearing big ole ankle weights of love and, and big platform shoes of devotion and I’d stuff my bra with watermelons of…”
She trailed off and looked over Tara for a minute before focusing back.
“Sorry, I was imagining you with watermelon-sized boobies and I got distracted.”
Tara giggled.
“You’d drown the first time you got near them.”
“A noble death,” Willow replied with a short, regal nod, “Do you think my parents would object to ‘death by titty’ on my headstone?”
They laughed together and snuggled up closely.
“I am worried about this interview,” Tara admitted as she wrapped her arm around Willow’s back, “These guys are shock jocks. One of them seems like a real jackass.”
“They’re like one of the number one shows in LA right now and they requested you,” Willow explained, “If we said no, we might not get another shot.”
“I get that and I’ll do it,” Tara nodded evenly, “I just wish I’d known sooner.”
“Scolding received and understood,” Willow kissed Tara’s shoulder, “I will check with you always from now on.”
She lifted her fist for a bump.
“I’m Team Maclay, remember?”
Tara brought her fist up and they did their routine; above and below before connecting properly.
Willow let her hand lie lazily over Tara’s breast; now in her favorite position to sleep.
“Besides, it’s a breakfast show. How bad can it be?”
“Tara, you’re on in two.”
The producer signaled for Tara to follow so Willow gave her two thumbs up and shuffled in the little stool she was sitting on in the studio. Around them were lots of monitors, buttons, and lights, all of which were controlling two guys sitting behind a glass panel with the brightest white lights and giant microphones extending from the ceiling.
Tara was ushered through a door in silence. The two hosts were silent as an ad break played; one waved to her and the other just slugged some coffee. The waver motioned for her to put on the headphones and Tara quickly complied. A small jingle played and the coffee guy started to grin smugly.
“Welcome back, Renegades, I’m still Parker.”
“And I’m still Doyle,” the other man said with a charming Irish lilt, “And we've got a special guest in the studio today, the up-and-coming DJ sensation, DJ Tarot. Welcome! Can I call ya Tarot?”
“You can call me Tara, which is my real name,” Tara giggled lightly, “Thanks for having me, guys.”
“Happy to have you,” Doyle replied.
“Bet she’s heard that before!” Parker added and an odd little laughing track played.
Tara frowned but her attention was quickly pulled back into the interview by Doyle.
“So, Tara. You really have had a meteoric rise. I’ve seen you described as an enigma of the LA music scene. Can you tell us how you got started DJing?”
Tara tried hard to withhold a blush; she’d never been very good at tooting her own horn.
“Well, music has been in my life forever. I, uh, went to a performing arts high school and was in a band—”
“With Nathanial Williamson!” Parker interrupted and another sound effect of a crown oohing and ahhing was played.
Tara fixed a grin on her face.
“That’s right!” she replied enthusiastically, “Anyway, I, um, went backpacking for a year and it was hard to keep up the music with no instruments. Nate actually suggested this DJing app to scratch the itch—”
“I bet that’s not the only itch Nate scratched,” Parker interrupted again, chuckling this time.
Doyle was smiling too but Tara could tell it was strained. Tara tried not to think about how red Willow would be behind her.
“Um. Anyway. Then I got an opportunity in Iceland to play a real set. Growing up I did the whole mixtape thing but I never really thought about DJing. That seemed like it was for people who were um, cool. But I felt cool that night and I, uh, caught the bug a little bit. I still didn’t think anything like this would happen though. I did this boot camp that my friend Deluca, they’re an awesome DJ too, by the way, recommended, and then my work, Deli’s, Delicatessens over on Melrose Ave, they’re great, they let me do a set. Things just kinda blew up when Nate came to see me one night and yeah, I’ve been so lucky.”
Both Tara and Doyle seemed to tense up awaiting a response from Parker, but when there was none, Doyle moved in smoothly.
“That's awesome, that’s awesome. So, what's your go-to track to get the party pumping?”
Tara relaxed a little.
“I can't pick just one! It depends on the crowd and the vibe of the event, but lately, I've been loving this Axel F remix—”
“How big is Nate’s shlong?” Parker barked out.
Doyle chuckled nervously into the microphone.
“Hey now.”
“The people want to know!” Parker exclaimed with a vibrant burst of his hands, “Is it true once you go black you never go back?”
Tara channeled her inner goddess.
“If you’re asking about my coffee preferences, sure.”
Doyle laughed for real and quickly took control of the interview.
“Now, we've got to ask, what's the wildest party you've ever DJed at?”
Tara cleared her throat and tried to smile; following some advice she’d read on the internet that a smile could be heard through the radio.
“Didn’t DJ but definitely had a wild night at a Full Moon Party in Nepal once.”
“Now we’re talking!” Parker rubbed his hands together, “You howl at the moon?”
“My girlfriend did when I got us back to our room,” Tara replied before even realizing the words were out of her mouth. Her eyes widened and cheeks reddened, and surprisingly so did Parker.
“Oh, damn.”
“Oh damn indeed,” Doyle laughed, “But here's a fun question - do you have any pre-show rituals or superstitions you follow? I knew a keyboardist once who played solitaire right before a show to clear his mind.”
Tara leaned in, nodding.
“Noise-cancelling headphones. A solid minute of total silence. And then let the rhythm flow.”
“Nice, nice, nice,” Doyle nodded. “You on social media?”
“I am, I’m travelingtarot,” Tara replied as she tried to recall everything Willow had coached her to say at this part, “I’m not the best at all that but I have a wonderful manager helping me. You can find me in all the places. And I have a bunch of gigs coming up all up and down the west coast so you can check out my website for a full schedule. And, uh, request your local clubs!”
“Alright!” Doyle agreed happily, “You happy to stay on for some callers?”
“Absolutely,” Tara said, hoping she sounded as confident as she was pretending to feel.
The ‘on air’ light went off and Parker hawked a loogie into his empty coffee cup.
“Nothing personal. The audience expects it,” he said without even looking at Tara.
Doyle moved a bit closer.
“Sorry,” he said quietly in a sincere tone, “I hate that that is my most uttered word on this job.”
Tara just lifted a hand in understanding.
“I’m actually the one who requested you,” Doyle said, cocking his head at Tara, “I saw your show at the Echoplex. I was really impressed, especially when I looked you up later and saw how young you were. Can’t even drink and you’ve taken over the club scene.”
Tara shrugged one shoulder.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere if Nate hadn’t shouted me out.”
Doyle just smiled.
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t deserved. It’s all who you know in this town.”
Tara smiled back gratefully.
“I was scouting for some new voices to intern here but I think you’re pretty confident in your own voice,” he said “But if you know anyone looking for some radio experience…”
Tara quickly nodded.
“That friend I mentioned, DeLuca, I know they— ”
“Ten seconds!” a call came from outside and Doyle quickly moved back into his spot.
“I’ll get the details after.”
He brought the microphone back to his mouth as the red sign lit up again. Before he could make an intro, Parker took over.
“And we are back on Reckless Renegades Radio and still with the pussy-havin’, pussy-eatin’ DJ Tarot!”
Tara’s mouth dropped and Doyle had to visibly withhold a sigh.
“Let’s go to a caller.”
He pressed a button and a squealing teen voice came through.
“OHMYGOD HAVE YOU ACTUALLY TOUCHED NATE WILLIAMSON?!”
Tara had to try her best to not react to her lewd interviewer or the constant presence of Nate over her work.
“We shared a saxophone once.”
There was a squeal.
“OHMYGOD!”
She only had to sit through a few more phone calls, one actually from someone who had seen a show and gushed about Tara’s presence through the music; lifting Tara’s spirit and confidence.
She finally left the studio with a quick on-air goodbye and a repeat of her social media information and walked out to the control room, where Willow was waiting, wringing her hands and looking upset.
“Tara I’m so sorry,” she whispered as they walked out to the hallway, “I-I didn’t think they could even use language like that in the morning!”
Tara took Willow’s shoulders in her hands and leaned in to press a kiss on her forehead.
“Don’t worry about it,” she reassured and offered a crooked grin, “Still not as bad as the assholes at the country club.”
Willow searched Tara’s face and slowly smiled, whipping out her phone.
“Well, in that case, Tara, you’re blowing up! Everyone’s talking about you giving back as good as you got. Look, you’re trending in LA!”
She scrolled through a series of tweets to show her. Tara’s head turned to the side.
“What does p-w-n-e-d mean?”
Willow giggled.
“It means they think you’re a badass, baby.”
“And I agree,” Doyle’s voice cut through as he came out from the studio and offered Tara a business card, “I have some friends over at KTLA. If you ever need some promotion, hit me up!”
Willow took the card.
“We will and thank you.”
Doyle smiled, amused.
“Are you the girlfriend or the manager?”
“I’m the both,” Willow replied proudly.
“She’s my…loverger,” Tara added with a coy smile for Willow, who blushed.
Doyle nodded in acknowledgment.
“Hey, sorry about Parker. We used to be live-live and had to switch to a five-minute buffer after we got a huge fine from the FCC,” he whistled and shook his head, “But it’s our brand. Anyway, I look forward to hearing from you. Email me about your friend, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Tara agreed quickly before Doyle was called back.
Willow secured the business card in her phone case.
“Speaking of brands,” she said, spinning on her heels to walk backward so she could face Tara, “This is amazing for our brand, baby.”
She smiled sheepishly.
“Your brand.”
Tara took both of Willow’s hands.
“Every bit of it is ours,” she said emphatically, “I would be nothing without you. And neither would DJ Tarot.”
She had a quick look around and when she was happy they were alone, she gave Willow a quick but meaningful peck.
“And just so you know, I trust you. You make my schedule and I’ll show up.”
Willow squeezed both of Tara’s hands.
“In that case, we have a photoshoot booked this weekend for those glamor shots.”
Tara grinned and threw her arm around Willow’s shoulders.
“Willow Rosenberg, you’ll be the death of me.”
Willow leaned against Tara’s shoulders as they walked out.
“Will it also be death by titty?”
Tara kissed the top of Willow’s head so she could murmur in her ear.
“If I’m lucky.”
Sally found an empty table at the school cafeteria and threw open her lunchbox.
Sandwiches, fruit cups, crackers and cookies. The kind of lunches she always saw other kids eating.
Her school lunches before were usually cold microwaved corn dogs or a bag of off-brand cheese puffs if she had anything at all. There was also a five-dollar bill tucked into her napkin and for a second day in a row, Sally stuffed it into her pocket in case it would somehow disappear. She was unsure why it was there but she was never one to question money appearing in front of her.
She picked up her sandwich — roast beef, exactly what she’d asked for, mostly because it was the fanciest thing she could think of to put between two slices of bread. She thought it would make her feel all superior-like but instead, she felt stupid, like she’d stolen someone else’s lunch.
Which had happened once or twice.
She took a bite and shrugged.
It tasted good.
As she was eating a shadow came over the table and for a moment, Sally actually thought she was busted, before realizing she hadn’t done anything wrong.
She looked up and saw the blond-haired boy from the day before. She scowled.
“I’m not s’posta talk to you.”
Aaron ignored her, putting his tray down and sitting opposite her. He picked up his sloppy joe and started to eat.
Just as Sally was about to ask what the hell his problem was, he spoke.
“Did your mom really die?”
Sally was momentarily thrown but didn’t let it show.
“Yeah.”
Aaron stuck the straw through his milk cartoon.
“So did mine.”
Sally frowned.
“I thought you had two dads.”
“I do,” Aaron nodded as he sipped some milk, “They adopted me. I was just a baby when my mom died.”
“Oh,” Sally replied, glancing down, “Me too.”
“Who was the chick with you yesterday?” Aaron asked curiously.
“My sister’s girlfriend,” Sally explained, putting her straw through her capri-sun, “I live with them.”
Aaron nodded.
“So you kinda have two moms.”
“Gross!” Sally practically spat her juice out, “Willow is not my mom. I don’t need a mom or a dad.”
Aaron threw a tater tot into his mouth.
“You want one?”
Sally tensed.
“Whatever.”
Aaron shrugged and produced his Switch from his backpack.
“You ever play Pokemon? We can do two player.”
Sally narrowed her eyes, though she was drawn in by the vibrant colors of the game console.
“You gonna call me a pipsqueak again?”
“You gonna trip me into the bushes?” Aaron retorted.
“If you deserve it,” Sally answered honestly.
Aaron considered it, then nodded.
“That’s fair.”
He offered a joy-con, which Sally took cautiously. Before they could start a game, another student came over.
“Aaron, what are you doing with the oompa-loompa!?”
He belly-laughed at his own joke.
“Shut up, Ethan!” Aaron scoffed, “She’d kick your butt any day!”
A few people laughed and Ethan scowled and moved off.
For the first time in her life, Sally smiled at school.
So Willow to get distracted from her cute declaration of commitment by her quirky imagery leading to a fantasy about Tara's boobs!
- she's going for a Willow-technicality win here!
Maybe... 
I'd love to see her put them all on her resume!!
I can imagine Ira thinking: "Damn, we really are away from home too often if we missed our neighbor being pregnant and having a baby!"
