Brainstorming ideas. Sounds easy enough, right? Well, as I laid there on my green carpet looking at the ceiling a sudden and violent realisation hit me. I was nowhere near the right head space to actually come up with anything. Just when I thought I was getting on the right track my mind immediately slipped away and started thinking about totally unimportant things. Did I do my homework? I wonder how Lola's doing. Why was Nathalie talking about potential date ideas? Why was she with Jules? Will she ever even wear that hair clip she bought? Blah, blah, blah, Nathalie, Nathalie, Nathalie.

Okay, as you can tell most of my thoughts revolved around a specific someone. Just as I took a deep breath to try and get back into my detective mindset there was a knock on my door. It was Lyana.

"Are you alright?"

For a second I wondered why she would ask that but then I remembered I was laying on the floor surrounded by all the evidence I collected. I quickly sat up.

"Yeah, what's up?"

She opened the door more and revealed a… wooden board she was holding in her other hand. She swiftly explained: "We're cleaning the house today and I found this laying around. I just thought since you're in the News Club and all…"

When she spun the board around it became clear why she wanted to give it to me. It was a cork board. You know, kind of like the ones detectives use in those weird crime movies.

Without really thinking I let out: "Cool! Thanks."

It was cool. At least I didn't have to lay all my evidence out on the floor anymore. But only after she already handed me the board did I realise what that meant. Lyana always tried a bunch of tricks to get me to participate in their daily activities. Recently she started giving me things to make me feel like I needed to give something back.

As expected it only took moments for me to be downstairs with the rest of the Evermores doing house chores. I couldn't really complain, Lyana loved to clean so she did most of that, Steve loved fixing and moving things and the rest was left for Philip and I. That day the mission for us was; Tidying up the backyard.

"Weeds.", Philip quickly announced as he basically shoved the garden gloves into my hands.

He obviously picked cleaning the new pool. Looking at the vast bushes all around the backyard I knew the day wouldn't be as easy as I thought. Right as I began pulling out all the weeds between the flowers my mind began to wander once more. I knew there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, so I just gave up and let it happen.

I mean, Philip was good looking, I had to give Nathalie that. But what else did she like about him? He made her relax, I do that too! That's nothing special. 

"You good?", Philip's voice snapped me out of that weird tangent.

"Huh?"

He stared at me for a moment before he mumbled: "You're really angry at those weeds, huh?"

I looked down and noticed my gloves were absolutely covered in dirt while the ripped out weeds laid on the ground beside me, some even ripped apart. It looked like a crime scene… just instead of a body there were weeds.

Looking at him again I saw that look he gave me on my birthday, the one that told me he was worried. All I could do was try to change the topic.

"Can you answer a question?"

He shrugged while he continued cleaning the pool: "If it's not too invasive, sure."

"You rejected Nathalie because she was too young, right?", I stated.

He glanced at me for a second. "Right."

I thought for a moment. I wasn't even really sure what I wanted to ask him. Well, until a few seconds have passed and I burst out: "Would... something change your mind?"

"Did Nellie put you up to this?", he wondered.

I immediately shook my head instinctively. What the hell? Did he think I was bought out by her or something? "What? No, why?"

He shrugged before looking away from me. "She's been a lot more affectionate lately. I don't know if she thinks I'll change my mind or what.", he mumbled.

Although it was clear he was a bit confused by her, from his expression I could also tell he was confused himself. He didn't seem happy about this change but also… not mad. It felt like a lukewarm feeling, which made me panic a little.

"Could you?"

We looked at each other for a moment. I just waited, I wasn't letting him off the hook. I really wanted- no, needed to know. I mean, if he were to suddenly change his mind nothing would stop Nathalie from… I didn't really want to think about that.

Suddenly, a loud voice came from the house.

"Philip!", Lyana's french accent heavier than usual.

We both looked at each other. What the…

Philip immediately stopped what he was doing and started walking inside. I obviously followed him in, really wanting to know what was going on.

Lyana was in the kitchen standing over the trash can while Steve was repairing something by the stove. I tried my best to nonchalantly blend into the scene by sitting up on the counter next to Steve.

As soon as Philip saw her face his expression immediately shifted. She was mad at him and he knew it. I turned to Steve who just continued fixing the stove like nothing was going on around him.

Suddenly something happened that I never in a million years would have expected.

In her anger Lyana suddenly started rambling in french. From her gestures and a few words I knew it was about the trash and how he probably didn't take it out again. But that wasn't the thing that surprised me, it was the fact Philip responded to her... in french.

My head immediately turned to them and I watched as both of them had a somewhat heated discussion about the trash. Two words I caught were "promis" and "Poubelle". The first one was pretty easy to guess meant promise while the other took some interpretation from me but it probably meant trash bin or something like that.

After their argument it was clear who won, obviously the french woman. A few more french words were grunted afterwards which were probably not very family friendly.

"Philip knows french?", I whispered.

"They always fight like that. I'm pretty sure he knows more swear words than verbs.", Steve chuckled, "That's my boy. Half french human and… half english human, I guess."

I couldn't help but smile a little. Whenever someone mentioned Philip to Steve he would always refer to him as "my boy". It kind of reminded me of my dad insisting on calling me "little Fifi". He would always say he would start calling me just "Fifi" when I went to college, but I guess that will never happen now.

Steve tinkered around the stove some more as he noted: "You probably know some Korean too, right?"

I turned away again, not really wanting to answer that question. I remember my dad just as much as the Korean he did try to teach me, aka. Almost not at all. I didn't really know what he thought I would answer. My dad died when I was six and I was pushed around different foster homes ever since. It wasn't really a great environment for learning a different language. He probably understood what my silence meant since he immediately commented : "No pressure, you're too smart already anyway."

I couldn't help but joke back: "Yeah, I'm a total genius." He just smiled to himself.

In the corner of my eye I saw Lyana answer the landline phone, probably one of her friends again. Steve suddenly punched the stove, startling me but also it made the stove immediately switch on. "There. Good as new.", he grinned.

I just stared at his muscular arms and wondered how that punch didn't break the stove in half. "…How much do you lift?"

Lyana quickly turned towards me and called out: "Fifi, it's your mom."

I immediately jumped off the counter and rushed to the living room. I don't even remember getting to the land phone, I just remember hearing her laugh when she heard I was out of breath.

"Hi, Josephine.", her smooth voice pierced my ears.

My mom was the only person that still called me by my full name. Every time I heard it I still felt a sharp spike in my heart. Although annoying, I didn't have it in me to correct her.

Even though the court only allowed two phone calls per week it felt like we caught up on everything already. Our recent calls were now just about every day things, maybe some of our relationships troubles where we either just listen or give advice. I still wished for more time though. She still didn't know that much about Nathalie. All she knew was that we had a "complicated" relationship.

It seemed like the perfect time to finally tell her everything and get advice from her.

We both suddenly burst out: "I need to talk-"

There was a moment where we giggled about how we both were eager to talk to each other. Before she could say anything I already chickened out: "You go first."

She stayed silent for a few seconds. Those few seconds felt like hours to me. What was it? Was she unwell again? Hospital? Police? What was it-

"I went on a date.", with the sharpness of her voice I could tell she really struggled to get it out of herself.

I have to say, I didn't expect to hear that. Still a bit surprised I tried my best to sound as supportive as possible, the last thing she needed was a moody teenager: "Oh- wow, mom. Didn't know you had it in ya".

"...I don't think I did.", she sighed, "It was nice, he was nice. It just... I didn't feel right."

"Do you like him?", I wondered.

"Yes."

I instinctively shut my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek. Shut up, Fifi. This has nothing to do with dad, be supportive, control yourself. I took a sharp breath before asking: "Then what's the problem?"

"...I don’t know. He was super sweet but... whenever he made a joke or laughed funny... I just thought…", her voice suddenly sounded lighter, happier, like a heavy burden had lifted from her shoulders, "'Wow, that's exactly what John would do'."

We stayed silent for a moment, only the quiet static of the cheap phone line could be heard between us. It felt like ages since the last time I heard her say my dad's name. I wasn't a psychologist or whatever so I didn't know exactly what that meant, but it felt… good. It felt like progress in a weird way.

It seemed like every time she wanted to do something she would just get reminded of him and give up. I didn't want her to do that again, I also didn't want her to remember him as an obstacle, so I tried hitting two birds with one stone: "Well... maybe you need a second John."

She let out a small gentle laugh before hesitating again. "I don’t know if he even likes me back."

"Did he smile at you? Laugh at your jokes? Check you out-?". She quickly cut me off: "Okay, maybe he does like me." 

We both laughed. Just as I thought it was time to change the topic she continued while still laughing a little: "I constantly ask myself these what ifs. I feel like I'm running in circles with him."

Something sunk within me. Yeah, running in circles… that's exactly how it feels. 

"But I think you're right. He likes me, that's all that matters.", she giggled, "I better ask him on another date before it's too late, right?"

It felt weird. Don't get me wrong, I was really happy for her and all… but my brain begged me to differ. For the first time I felt what Nathalie did the whole time, jealousy. I couldn't believe how stupid it really was. I was jealous of my depressed mom. At least she had the guts to go out with the person she liked, at least she could… before it was too late.

"Fifi?", my mom's voice suddenly snapped be out of my thoughts. I must have zoned out for a while. "What did you want to talk about?"

I started to tap the heel of my foot on the floor as a sudden idea appeared in my mind. Just the thought of doing it made me anxious, I could barely stand still.

"I actually... just had an idea how to fix it."