I have two dads. 

It's amazing.

While you may have a mum and a dad, I have two wonderful fathers who love me and take care of me. They're pretty lax on discipline, so I can mostly do whatever I want.

That's not to say having two dads is perfect.

The neighbors hate us. They'll 'forget' to invite us over to their open houses and stuff. They tell their kids bad things about us. How do I know this? Well, I figured it out on the first day of school, ten years ago:

                                                      *                            *                           *

I was feeling good. My dad Aiden (I call my dads by their first names.) had packed me my favorite foods. My other dad, Cade, helped me pick out clothes at the thrift shop. I practically 

skipped to school.

My teacher was a pretty young woman called Ms. Bela. She looked like she’d topple over if you touched her, which would be funny, but also not.

I’m an albino, so people usually stare. I actually didn’t care back then, but now I care, a lot. Anyway, people were pointing. I didn’t care. Then, in class, some dude shot a rubber band at the back of my head. Ouch. But I didn't care. Another dude called me a ‘fag’. I didn’t know what that meant. But I still had the good feel of the first day, so I didn't give a shit. Someone stepped on my lunch. And that got me pissed. “Stoppit!” I yelled. Those twats kept on hooting and hollering. I ran and hid underneath the bleachers outside. No one could call me out. They called my dads. "Nine, what happened?" they asked me when they got there. "They called me a fag, and shot rubber bands at my head, and stomped on my lunch, and I don't know why!" I sobbed. My dads looked at each other. "Boys are stupid." Aiden finally said. "Especially little ones." They then told me why those boys bullied me.

Every day after that at school, I'd hide from those troglodytes, and read books. Honestly, though? It sucked. Majorly. I prayed to every god available to me that those twats would shut up. They called me stupid, uncreative names like Paste Girl and Lezzie. It always made me laugh when I told my dads what they called me. They'd wisecrack about how stupid those boys were. Cade once said " Let's hope those a-holes mature!" I giggled at the bad word.

My dads were wonderful. Something sad: I'm fifteen, and those boys still tease me.