We all made small group tables in the classroom. Rudoslav and Lola obviously got the table by the window because they're the most manipulative ones in the club. They were whispering to each other the whole time which suggested they weren't even working and were trying to hide it by having total unrelated books in their hands.

Philip and Nathalie sat together in the corner, like always she was writing something down while Philip leaned back in his chair and stared at his laptop. Sometimes they would give each other annoying little glances.

As for me and Jules, we were in the middle of the room trying to plan how we were going to do this whole thing. Jules was weird enough to have a map of the town on hand.

They suddenly leaned forward to me and whispered: "Can't we just Google the flower and paste them into a document?"

"She'll know. Trust me, I tried something like that already. She's like a Google detector.", I whispered back.

I glanced over at her just as she was giggling about something Philip said. I smacked my lips before looking back at Jules, who was staring at me.

"What?"

"Nothing.", They quickly looked down at the map and pointed with my pen. "I suggest we start in the middle and go out from there."

The way they sometimes danced around the strange little things they were doing started to slowly pile up for me. But without any real reason I choose to ignore it. Maybe to prevent myself from looking alone to Nathalie.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to do it the other way around?"

They stared at me for a moment before mumbling: "I mean, I guess but-"

Jules clearly didn't want to do it that way, which resulted in me wanting to do it that way.

"So we'll do it that way! Oh miss Bats!", I snapped.

Nathalie sighed before standing up and slowly making her way to our table. Jules turned to me with a confused look before they chuckled: "Bats?"

"It's a nickname.", I smiled.

Nathalie quickly commented: "An unwelcomed one. What is it?"

Even at the end of winter season she managed to dress nicely. Platted skirt, sweater over a white shirt. Classy, collected, very Nathalie. It took me a moment to notice she was looking for me to answer.

"We're done with planning. Can we start searching this week?", I asked.

She sighed. Knowing Nathalie she probably already planned the whole semester for us. This week we were supposed to just prepare and next present our preparations and then start working, which was the most slow and least exciting way of doing things.

"You can always-", I cut her off knowing she would suggested something more boring: "Please."

That word didn't come out of me very often and she knew that. We looked at each other for a short moment, short enough for me to notice her cheeks slowly become more pinkish in tone.

"…Alright.", her voice cracking a little.

She immediately looked away from me before walking back to her desk. Looking at Rudoslav he seemed very surprised she agreed to it. He gave me a look that asked "What the hell was that?". She never agreed to compromises let alone complete plan changes, well, didn't agree with anyone besides me.

"Why did you ask her that?", Jules wondered.

Jules and I were walking down the stairs after the club meeting ended. I couldn't help but smile: "Because that means we'll get to leave school during club hours which means…"

They thought for a second. "Doing nothing."

"Bingo! You learn fast.", I chuckled.

We exited the school. Just as the doors closed behind us Jules stopped me.

"Before you go.", they reached into their bag and handed me a piece of paper. "Here."

Looking at it I quickly realised it was a phone number. For a second I almost gave it back before I remembered I got a phone now. I quickly pulled it out to put in the phone number.

"Right.", I smacked my lips.

"Nice phone.", Jules smiled before they began walking away.

"Thanks.", I called back right as Nathalie walked through the doors.

We looked at each other again. She didn't seem so happy about my new found friendship with Jules.

I mumbled: "…You still haven't given me your phone number."

"Maybe later.", she walked off.

I had everyone's phone number besides hers. Which was a bit annoying but considering I would have probably annoyed her with a dozen texts a day I kind of understood her decision.

I expected a lot of things when I exited school. Maybe more rain or Philip decided to go home with me instead of Rudoslav or an Easter bunny. Anything would have been more believable than what I actually found.

There right on the street Philip's mom, Lyana was leaning against the family's pickup truck. Just waiting. Part of me hoped she was waiting on someone else, but that wouldn't really make any sense.

When I got closer she stood up straight which made me notice the bouquet of Peonies she was holding. What's going on?

"Hey Fifi.", she smiled.

I didn't really want to beat around the bush. "What are you doing here?"

She chuckled, probably didn't expect me to be so hostile from the get go. I didn't either, I was actually planning on asking her nicely but somehow it ended up sounding more rude than anything.

She explained: "I was going to drive to the city. I thought you might want to come along."

"…The city?"

I notice her hand move up slightly, like she wanted to touch my head before she quickly put it back down. Even though she was trying to hide it you could tell there was some sadness to her eyes when she looked at me.

"We can eat out if you want."

"Count me in!" I quickly jumped into the pickup truck.

The drive was almost 2 hours long, which was filled with Lyana singing along to old country songs. Saying that I almost clawed my ears off would be an understatement.

When we arrived the city looked just like I remember it, although we weren't really in the centre it still felt just as busy like always. Turns out Lyana just took the long drive to go to a dumb clothes store, I decided to wait outside. Looking around I kind of remembered the street we were on… a little too well.

I slowly started walking where it felt right. The loud cars driving by, the people talking loudly to each other or over the phone, the pigeons not leaving the bakery alone. It was kind of funny how it all seemed almost scripted.

Wait. I realised why I remembered it all so well. Why it all felt slightly off. Small rain drops hit my face when I looked at the giant gate in front of me.

I started walking. My footsteps felt heavier with every step. I've been here before, so why was I so scared to go further? I remember the way like the back of my hand but... I still wasn't sure of myself when I walked.

The cloud became darker when my feet hit the gravelled path I once ran from my mother on. The trees bend to the wind just like every year I was here. Maybe a few steps further and I would be there again. What was here anyway?

I stopped. The wet gravel stuck on the soles of my shoes.

There he was, my dad.

His grave didn't change much. There were still the same flowers Mrs Welsh put in on our last visit there. They were just... dead now.

I never liked graves without photos. They seemed too impersonal and neutral. A simple name and quote didn't feel like enough to represent a whole person. But, ever since I first saw it, I hated that my mom decided to add a picture. Every time I went here I would grow a few centimetres, have a different hairstyle, be a different person and my dad would just... stay the same.

"You look just like him."

I turned and saw Lyana slowly walk up to me. A sad smile on her face. She stood next to me and put the umbrella over both of us. It wasn't even raining that hard.

And we just stood there. Silent. I wonder for a moment where her daughter might have been buried. Probably not that far away from town like my dad.

She gently handed me the umbrella and walked up to his grave while I watched.

"These flowers are nice, right?", she smiled.

She took the dead flowers out and placed the fresh bouquet of Peonies in their place. It did look nice, for a grave.

But that was the moment I realized. She planned this. She took me here on purpose. Why else have the flowers with her already?

I wanted to call her out but when she stood next to me again I stopped myself. Mrs Welsh probably would have done the same anyway. She probably didn't have a choice. I don't think a mother of a dead child would like to visit a graveyard willingly, or maybe she did.

I watched as she read the writing on the grave. My dad was only 34 when he died. She obviously had a reaction to that. Just like everyone that probably walked past his grave.

But then, she made another comment. "Exactly 10 years from today.", she sighed, "Time flies, huh?"

"Not fast enough.", I scoffed.

It really didn't feel that long ago. I couldn't help but bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from crying. I know it's obvious but I missed him, I really did. There were so many alternative ways that day could have gone. Maybe if my mom did something else or my dad put his foot down or maybe if I wasn't so excited that day...

Lyana gently touched my head as she noticed me getting emotional. I felt her hand lightly brushing my hair when she whispered: "Happy 16th birthday, Fifi."