Chapter 30: The Date

BRITECHESTER UNIVERSITY, 2052

Miguel noticed a change in Dorothy, after he enquired about her mother. She stopped making conversation, only really commenting on the bread and cheese platter she’d ordered, with pickles, chutney and a variety of fruit, which she savoured like it had been ages since she’d tasted apples, grapes and tomatoes.

She had softened her usually intense eye-contact, which should have been a relief for Miguel, but with her he somehow craved it, like he wanted her stare to swallow him. 

And lastly, she had lost her infectious wide-eyed, toothy smile – the sort that, for a moment, would turn the rain in his brain off, and scrub out the grey clouds, leaving behind a beautiful rainbow. 

A pang settled in his chest. Had he said something? Missed something? Or was the switch in Dorothy’s demeanour all in his head?

He filtered through the possible reasons for her sudden mood transition: she could be tired – there was a limit to how much socialising he could cope with, perhaps she was the same…unlikely. Dorothy was usually so…chatty. So…outgoing. A little like papá before mamá died. 

Speaking of mamá, maybe enquiring after her “ma” had triggered distressing memories. In other words, Miguel had ruined the vibe. Or perhaps his tone had been off, and now she thought him callous and rude. 

Or she had picked up on his awkwardness, realised he wasn’t as cute as she had remembered and was about to end things here. In this café. His heart raced, as he envisaged his organs shutting down from self-consciousness.

‘Wanna take a walk?’ 

‘What?’ 

‘A walk.’ Dorothy giggled. The sudden shift in conduct threw Miguel off so much, he felt as if he had been chucked off a cliff, hitting the ocean face-first.

‘Okay,’ he said, tension leaving his shoulders. He hadn’t offended her after all. 

He paid the bill, and together they wandered the campus, the air greeting them with the scent of freshly mowed grass and body odour. His nose wrinkled involuntarily. 

‘So, er, what got you so interested in death?’ Dorothy piped up, as they passed a group of students chatting on the lawn – their voices delivering shocks to his ears. He tried not to wince or clench his muscles. But the absence of his headphones was potent – a longing that couldn’t be snuffed out. 

‘I –’ he trailed off, as he pictured his mamá’s grave back home in Selvadorada, decorated with his papá’s marigolds. An intense ache worked its way into his muscles.

Panicked, he turned to an image of his best friend Gema’s tomb stone, kept in the Royal Vault underneath the Capilla de la Cruz – the royal Catholic Church that the late King Alex had built. Emotions crowded the back of his throat – feelings he couldn’t describe. But they were strong – like the insect repellent his papá used to infect the air with back home. 

‘You don’t have to tell me –’

‘No, it’s okay,’ he said. They fell into silence for a bit. The late afternoon breeze had a slight nip to it, a warning that he should probably start digging out his winter clothes soon. 

Something he missed about home: it never snowed.

‘My mamá and my best friend died a year apart,’ he said. ‘Then another friend very close to me disappeared. I needed to know if they are in Heaven, that they are at peace. So, I got interested in death – the physical side, like how the body decomposes; the psychological, like your final thoughts; and the metaphysical, like the soul leaving the body.’

‘Do you believe your friends are at peace?’

‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘Mamá said that good people did not suffer in the afterlife. I haven’t been able to prove her theory. But I’m hoping she’s right.’ 

‘I hope so too.’ Her lips stretched into a tight smile that looked more like a grimace. Unease pressed on his shoulders: had his tone been off? Had he said something strange?

They crossed the road and onto the cobbled pavement in front of the large stone auditorium where his papá delivered his lectures.

Dorothy’s grimace turned into a frown. ‘Is something on today?’ she asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Like a show, or concert,’ she clarified. ‘It’s just, it’s feeling kinda like a ghost town, right now.’

It was then he noticed the absence of students: it was quiet. Too quiet – the sort of silence he’d expect just before Sunday Mass when everyone would sit in stillness, praying, reflecting – or like him – just sitting and waiting for it to be over, so he could return home.

‘I hadn’t noticed anything being advertised,’ he said.

‘Would you have noticed, though?’ she asked. ‘Unless it’s an ad for a stage production of Pedro Páramo.’ She giggled, which somehow turned into a snort. 

It was his turn to giggle.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’ He attempted to straighten his lips, but they remained stubbornly extended. ‘Your – your smile is b-b…’ He paused, cheeks reddening, as he formed the word he wished to say in his head. ‘Beautiful.’ 

He snatched a glance at her, his breath catching, as he observed how her brown hair shone a dark golden under the afternoon sun; the way her brown eyes, the colour of fresh soil, sparkled; how her plush lips quirked into a warm, radiant beam. 

Could this have been what papá had felt when he’d first met mamá in that Belomisian nightclub back home?

‘Thanks,’ she said.

Dorothy walked a little closer to him, her hand brushing against his. He longed to close his fingers around hers – perhaps that’s what she wanted too. But he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to make a mistake. Get it wrong. Papá would know what she wanted. His stomach knotted. At the back of his mind, an old thought whispered, ‘This is too good to be true.’

‘We should check out the quad,’ said Dorothy.

‘What? Why?’ The quad? But that was the noisiest place on campus.

‘Coz it might be where everyone is.’

‘Why do we need to know where everyone is?’

She giggled through her nose, which then morphed into another snort. ‘Curiosity, I suppose.’ 

Curiosity?

Dorothy began jogging in the direction of the quad. Miguel stayed put. He watched her, like she was heading straight into a cremation chamber. Worry crushed his chest. If he followed, and she was right that the quad would be packed with lots of thundering, reeking, bodies, then he’d be – she’d see him – not necessarily; he might cope – but they might all be there, an entire, swollen mass of limbs, heads and voices…

Ay, he should have brought his headphones. Miguel threw his head back and groaned. 

If he didn’t follow, then she’d think he’d ditched her. But if he did follow, he’d be at risk of exposing himself to be maybe a little bit less than…

Typical. 

Wish me luck, mamá.

And Miguel picked up his pace after Dorothy. 

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Chapter 30: The Date

BRITECHESTER UNIVERSITY, 2052

Miguel noticed a change in Dorothy, after he enquired about her mother. She stopped making conversation, only really commenting on the bread and cheese platter she’d ordered, with pickles, chutney and a variety of fruit, which she savoured like it had been ages since she’d tasted apples, grapes and tomatoes.

She had softened her usually intense eye-contact, which…

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Ivy Amato - Ch. 1

I was inspired to write this story after certain events unfolded during gameplay so I don’t have many visuals to share. Apologies in advance!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ivy Amato is one of the hardest working students at SimSim High School. She receives top marks in all of her classes, is an active member of her school’s computer science class, and will never turn down a classmate’s request for help with an assignment. Her siblings, Sherry and Orion, often poke fun at her and call her Ms. All-Work-And-No-Fun, but they’ve always respected her determination and drive. And even while they make these lighthearted jabs at their sister, they know that she’s always there to help think through complex algebra equations or piece together Mr. Farry’s vague social studies presentations. 

Ivy is the eldest of three children. She was born to parents Casey, a well known painter in the Del Sol Valley area, and Sage, a revered scientist. Her brother Orion was born just a year and a half later and Sherry another year and a half after that. The close age gaps allowed the siblings to foster a connection most other siblings in the neighborhood envy to have. The Amato family as a whole is described to have a close family dynamic and their connection is one that cannot be penetrated by even the most traumatic of events. 

Top Left: Sage and Casey, Top Right: Casey and Baby Ivy, Bottom Left: Ivy (Top Center), Casey (Top Left), Young Sherry (Bottom Left), Young Orion (Bottom Center), Bottom Right: Sage, Ivy and Orion decorating the holiday tree a couple of years ago.

The Amato household has survived multiple house fires that almost killed both parents in separate instances. Ivy stepped in to extinguish the fire that almost killed Casey in their kitchen one evening while he was preparing some chili for dinner. Their brother Orion suffered a severe case of the flu that left him bedridden at the hospital for days. The Amato family clung to hope as doctors and nurses exchanged worried glances during those first few days of Orion being admitted, but he soon recovered and was miraculously back to running his opponents down on the football field not long after that.

And who could forget the armed robbery that took place one late spring evening at the Amato residence? Ivy was the first to jerk awake when she sensed that something wasn’t right, only to be met with a red-headed robber and his pistol in her kitchen. Her parents ran in soon after while Orion protectively shielded Ivy and Sherry from the horrors unfolding in front of them. Their father quickly disarmed the robber and kept him pinned down until the cops showed up shortly after.

It seemed as if the universe was out to test the Amato family by throwing curveball after curveball, but they persevered each and every time and they came out stronger in the end. Unfortunately for the Amato family, the universe would decide to wind up another curveball to throw their way. This time, they wouldn’t be so lucky.

Copperdale Hearts, Year 1

Sunday - Spring Day 1

Trope: Elaine Rivers makes a New Rival this week, Christine Bell. They both got the Pretentious first impression sentiment for each other.

First Impression sentiment from the First Impressions mod by Lumpinou. Christine Bell shared to the Gallery by SakuraLeon.

Elaine and Eleanor went out for bubble tea. Otto Zhang introduced himself to Elaine and made a joke. Elaine was not impressed but then they became fast friends.

Monday - Spring Day 2

The girls went to school and met many fellow teens. Eleanor was instantly attracted to many of the boys and a few girls. Elaine is now good friends with Otto.

Tuesday - Spring Day 3

Malcolm Landgraab, the school Meanie, teased Eleanor and hurt her feelings. She went to the music room alone to practice. Elaine heard about Malcolm’s behavior towards her sister and chewed him out. Morgan Fyres introduced herself in the music room and she and Eleanor hit it off.

At lunch time, Elaine found her sister on the basketball court and comforted her. By then Eleanor was over the whole thing and energized from shooting hoops. Elaine was still pissed though, so she beat Malcolm up in the lunchroom in front of the whole school.

When the girls got home from school, Ella called Eleanor into the kitchen to help with dinner and told Elaine her father wanted to speak with her. John asked Elaine about her day at school and talked to her about the fight with Malcolm. He was not upset in his delivery but he did make it clear that her behavior was unacceptable. They talked about other ways to handle conflict.

Elaine doesn’t look convinced.

Get to know my soap opera save starting families here:

Post by @hiddengemsims · 3 images

Copperdale Hearts: A Sims 4 Soap Opera

Starting Families

These are my three main families in my own soap opera challenge save. They live in Copperdale.

Eleanor’s traits are: Socially Awkward, Loyal, Creative, and Bookworm

John’s traits are: Family-Oriented, Loyal, Goofball, Loves the Outdoors and Foodie.

John’s career is: Education

Ella’s traits are: Family-Oriented, Loyal, Creative, Outgoing and Music Lover.

Ella’s career is: Independently wealthy

Elaine’s traits are: Self-Assured, Loyal, Creative and Music Lover

Noah’s traits are: Active, Bookworm, Good, Genius and Vegetarian

Noah’s career is: Doctor

Rosemary’s traits are: Generous, Bookworm, Ambitious, Genius and Idealist

Rosemary’s career is: Lawyer

*Anna was downloaded from the Gallery but I can’t remember when or who the original creator was. I did change all her outfits and makeup but I can’t take credit for her

Otto’s traits are: Active, Loyal, Goofball, Bro

Anna’s traits: Family-Oriented, Gloomy, Neat, Active and Good

Anna’s career is: Fast Food Employee and Babysitter

Lily’s traits are: Gloomy, Art Lover, Perfectionist and Loner

Jay’s traits are: Good, Outgoing, Dog Lover, Bro

About last night

(Windslar photoshop template)

Briony wakes the night of the masquerade ball still shaken from fainting, only to face the first quiet, devastating glimpse of what her life beside Luc might truly demand. By morning she’s back in her room, where Luc arrives with breakfast and finally tells her why he chose her—a confession that steadies her even as it unravels her. They spend the day exploring the palace grounds, a brief illusion of freedom before being summoned to a lecture on the rules forbidding any public exposure of them together. And the next day, alone in the palace, Briony uncovers even more truths—ones that make yesterday’s revelations feel like only the beginning.

Cashmere & Cameron — The Cost of Loving Him

Briony returns to Britchester and tries to get her life back on track.
It’s slow going — painfully slow — the kind of healing that feels like walking through wet cement while everyone else sprints past you. She’s doing the work, though. Showing up to class. Keeping her head down. Pretending the whispers don’t sting. Pretending she’s fine.

And just when her life finally starts to resemble something steady again — something almost normal — it happens.

Another unexpected turn.
The kind that accelerates everything and derails everything at the exact same time.
The kind that forces her to choose who she wants to be now, not who she was before the scandal, before the trial.

Because the past isn’t done with her.
And the future is coming faster than she’s ready for.

Cashmere & Cameron - The Slow Bloom

Briony’s first semester at the University of Britchester doesn’t turn out to be what she imagined. Trying to navigate through the homesickness and many changes, she learns the hard way that nepotism has a dark side.

Cashmere & Cameron - Rough Start

Jade watching her shows seemed like a good image for this post.

I have getting sucked into the rabbit hole of people’s sim-lit stories to thank for my current hyper-fixation so I thought I’d put this up for anyone else looking for fun stories to read through.

If you have any recommendations or want to self promo, feel free to comment!

@theplottdump ’s Plott Family Legacy shenanigans’ were my gateway into the wonderful world of SimLit and her stories are both elaborate and thoughtful while having this thread of tongue in cheek humor that had me in stitches. Landing page for her story is here and totally worth a read through.

@thelaoslegacy is the one I just caught up on. If you like romantic dramas, its fantastic. You can read through much of the first and part of the second gen on the tumblr and then head on over to bluesky to find out more about Harper and her long way round to happiness. It’s a great read! You can find a feed of just the laos legacy story here.

The next stories I have bookmarked to read on my phone way too late in the night are @doctorsimcraft ’s Goth Legacy and @maiawe ’s Sanford Legacy.

Feel free to leave recs in the comments!

Life had finally settled into somethin’ that looked a whole lot like peace. Amy was pickin’ up ranch life quicker than a stray cat figures out a warm porch, and for the first time in a long while, the days felt steady. Quiet. Almost easy.

Which is exactly when life decided to drop a whole new disruption straight in our laps.

No warning, no heads‑up — just rolled right up the drive like it owned the place. Hit me square in the chest, too. Pride first, concern right behind it, both of ’em tryin’ to squeeze through the same door.

And just when I thought I had that situation wrangled and tied off, another fire lit up. Because around here, trouble don’t show up polite and single‑file. It comes in bunches, loud as hogs and twice as messy.

I just sighed, wiped my hands on my jeans, and muttered,
“Alright then. One at a time. Daddy ain’t a miracle worker.”

Wild Country - Heartbreak

Wild Country - Heartlines

San SequoiaSeaglass Haven

By the time we rolled into San Sequoia, I was already half hoarse from hollerin’ out the damn window. Beau and Cody had been in the truck bed the whole drive, raisin’ hell like two stray dogs that’d learned how to open coolers. First they were throwin’ bottle caps at fence posts, then they were standin’ up every time I hit a bump, then they were bangin’ on the back…

Wild Country - Heartlines

Jackson’s whirlwind romance with Amy hits its next turning point when his parents and brother roll into town. He’s ready to share his news — but ends up blindsided by theirs, shifting the family dynamic in ways he never saw coming. Just as everyone settles into a fragile new rhythm, storm clouds gather again, threatening the peace he’s barely managed to build.

Wild Country - Homefires

The university halls were quiet that last Thursday before they shut for Christmas. Lissa passed one or two students in the hallways—the stragglers, or, maybe, the swots like her, hurrying to the library for one last rummage through the shelves before being shuttered out for a week. 

The sun was low through the windows, the shadows harsh across the tiles, but the Christmas tree glittered with tinsel and lights as she rushed up the staircase. Strange to see the building empty, and the decorations hung along the walls as though for nobody. She echoed through the halls that evening. Ceilings bounced her own footsteps back to her—prim little clicks on the worn tiles as she approached a corner. 

“I’m not sure you understand…” a voice floated toward her. “…both essays. I appreciate you have things going on, but…”

If Lissa had not been a curious person, she might have kept on her march, but she was, so she slowed. Along a passage of locked doors, voices were leaking from the single open room. 

“I know,” said the second person. 

“And you’ve missed more lectures than you’ve attended this term. You can’t expect me to keep overlooking it.”

Lissa hesitated, with the full knowledge she should walk on by, but frankly, she was incurably nosy. She didn’t want to drown out the conversation with her footsteps, and so she slowed her stride as she approached.

“I’m not. I just—”

“Please, Nick, I’m not interested in excuses. I’m interested in whether you actually want to be here.”

Stopped short of passing the door. And stood feeling implicated in the whole thing, afraid to be seen, or even breathe through the silence that hung there. 

“I do,” Nick said eventually. 

“Then—” the lecturer broke off, exasperated. “Email me. If you are struggling with your assignments, I’m here. Before the deadline. Not after. And you’ll come to lectures next term.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Send me an email in the new year, and we’ll discuss options.” The lecturer swooped out of the room so suddenly that Lissa startled. “Excuse me,” he said, then moved on without looking at her.

Nick was in the doorway with a hand hooked into the pocket of his jeans. 

She balked, and crossed her arms over herself as though he had just seen her naked. Where she might have felt smug—him, there with a sulky look on his face—she felt only a crawling discomfort, and the absurd urge to share some type of appropriate yet hollow platitude with him. 

His eyes flickered to her face, then quickly away.

“Hi,” she said, because nothing else came to her. 

“Hey.” He smiled faintly. “You alright?”

“Yes,” she gestured vaguely down the corridor. “I was just—” 

“Right,” he tipped his head as though to say; go on, then. Off she went. Her ridiculous heel-toe, heel-toe, clacking her way up the corridor while he stayed brooding where he was. 

At the end of the hall, she risked a glance back.

There, still, leaning into the doorframe, chewing the skin on the side of his knuckle, with a vacant stare at the panelled wall. She paused. 

Then she rounded the corner and kept walking. 

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That same night, they lay in bed. Shivery and sweating all at once, there was no balance to be found. Lissa’s leg was outside the duvet. Then her arm, then both back in, where Joshua’s body was radiating so much heat her fitful nightmares featured scenes of her boiling slowly in a hotel bath. 

After brushing her teeth twice, her mouth still tasted of vomit. Disgusting. And worse for being next to Joshua, who shouldn’t have to smell it on her breath. When she turned her back to him, he didn’t follow, or put his arms around her to nuzzle into her hair as she expected. He was too silent to be asleep. Maybe he was staring at the wall like she was.

A dim light glowed through the voile blinds and made her room look ghostly. She thought of the time, the hours ticking away until morning, when she would rise and shower, finally shower, and go to a lecture, to sit there nursing her hangover, like one of the in-crowd. How exciting for her.

She heard the heavy outside door first. That inevitable thump, and the echo in the tiled foyer. Pulling her knees to her chest, she braced for the scrape and jangle of keys in the apartment door.

Anika and her guest whispered a path to the kitchen. Through poorly built walls, each sound came through, and Lissa followed the sequence—Coats. Shoes. Fridge. Cupboard. Glasses. The muffled pop of a cork. Soon, she thought, once the preamble had wrapped up, she would hear every sordid beat of the sex they were about to have, and lie still, feeling embarrassed and somewhat bitter about the fact they were having it. 

She had never actually heard anyone else having sex before she lived with Anika. Never endured the shock of someone allowing themselves to be heard like that. No—with Joshua, she waited until nobody was home, with no chance of a return within the next hour. Having him over at all was embarrassing, if she was in the wrong mood, because then she worried about what someone might think they were doing, even in the absence of any actual… doing. 

But Anika lived out some sort of erotic fantasy in her room—the very one with clothes all over the floor and a No War for Oil! Don’t Attack Iraq! poster poised in the street-facing window. She didn’t even stuff a pillow behind the headboard to mute the rhythmic sequence, and the accelerando before the finale as Lissa hid helplessly in the dark, thinking about those enthusiastic men. Always expressing how delighted they were to be there, oblivious to the nonconsenting third party on the other side of the wall.

As the banging began that night, in sequence with the pulsating headache in her temple, she had no energy to move—attempt some futile noise, as she sometimes did, to remind her housemate she was home. She lay and stared. 

Joshua sniffed. 

“Sorry,” Lissa whispered. “It’s… not ideal.”

His profile was austere in the half light. “Why is she always doing that?”

She didn’t know, but felt she had to volunteer something. “I suppose it’s a certain lifestyle.”

“Well,” he whispered. “Don’t you ever think she’s a bit…”

Lissa shifted. “What?”

“I don’t know. A bit much.”

She knew he wasn’t trying to sound judgmental, and there was genuine curiosity behind his question, nevertheless, it landed awkwardly between them.

“I don’t think about it,” she said. 

The bed frame knocked more rigorously, and Anika uttered something that sounded like “Kevin,” which made the entire ordeal abruptly less sexy than it already was. Joshua rolled to face her finally. His hand warmed her hip through her pyjamas. 

“Is it different each time? Like, are they all different guys?”

“I don’t know,” she said. 

He waited, as if she might elaborate. 

“I’ve never seen them,” she added, in case her silence condoned it. “Maybe. All I know is that one is Kevin, evidently.” She gave him a thin smile, which he didn’t return.

“You don’t mind her doing that?” He said, and Lissa shrugged. 

“A bit, but it feels like, I don’t know… something that just happens in college.”

“For some people, maybe. It’s just…” he inhaled, like forcing something back. “It makes me uneasy.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you thinking that’s normal. And to be honest, if I can just say, I’m getting worried, because you didn’t seem like you tonight, Lissa. At the pub.”

It was her instinct to reach across the divide and touch him, the solid rise of his cheekbone, and the texture of his unshaven face. She’d loved him since he had the soft, downy cheeks of a boy—first year, when he’d waited until the Ferris wheel stopped all the way at the top to kiss her. Her very first. 

“Lissa Mansfield,” he said, because she was still single-barrelled. “You are perfect.” What remained since was an ever-growing compulsion for things to remain that way, how they were when she was thirteen and touching the sky, and her parents were still together. It was unbearable—the thought of becoming someone strange and disappointing, to him or to anybody. 

“I was me,” she protested. “I just lost track of what I was drinking.”

“But if I’d been there, it wouldn’t have happened. Nobody was looking after you. I didn’t even know you were there in the first place, and it scares me to think of you with those… people, who don’t have any concern for your safety, while I think you’re safe at home.” 

She wondered what he meant to say instead of ‘people’.

“I was totally fine, really. They were nice to me. It was my fault I drank too much. It felt like it happened quickly, like… nobody would have really noticed at first.”

“Yeah, but think of what might have happened. Anyone might have taken advantage.” His hand was clenching and unclenching on her pyjama leg, creasing a gloomy reminder of their conversation into the fabric. 

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I just didn’t love the whole situation, and an unknown number, I—” he broke off. “It didn’t feel great for me… just being phoned like that.”

“What?” She laughed, and he remained completely expressionless. 

“That’s hard for me to admit, Lissa.”

“Okay, sorry. I don’t mean to mock you. I’m just surprised it bothered you. The guy who called you was the one actually helping.”

A long silence, then; “Did you talk to him? Before you got that drunk, I mean.”

Lissa didn’t know how to answer. 

“I was just wondering if you’d been chatting,” he pressed. “If that’s why he knew he could call me.”

“Not really. I was already pretty drunk by then, so I don’t even know what we were saying.” She stroked her thumb across his cheek, and he batted her away impetuously. “He was just… making small talk, I think. I don’t remember.”

“Well, that’s not exactly what I want to hear, Lissa.”

“Sorry. No, I wasn’t chatting to him. He’s just a random guy Anika knows, who happened to run into me when I needed a bit of help.” She felt like she would cry and pawed for him again. He huffed and turned to his other side. 

“Forget it. I wish I hadn’t said anything.” 

“Joshua…”

He didn’t touch her again. 

She felt a lurch of emotion, like getting sick, and might have actually vomited if there was anything left in her stomach. 

Through the wall, the mattress squeaked. Anika and Kevin giggled, then finally, the flat went quiet.

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When the City Falls Asleep

Chapter 3 - Page 17

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When The City Falls Asleep

Chapter 3 - Page 16

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Trying out a new format….

Later, much later, she stared into the depths of the fireplace, flames flickering, the pop and crackle of kindling. The curtains were drawn, and in the glow of lamplight, her father thumbed through the newspaper. 

“So go on,” Jade said, entering the room with a flourish, carrying a tray of tea. “Tell us about your surprise, then.”

Joshua cleared a stack of decorative books to make space on the coffee table. “Yeah, yeah, it was good,” he said. “I took her to one of those houseboat restaurants, you know, they go along the river?”

Lissa nodded and thought of the people looking at her from the promenade. She didn’t know whether it was in her imagination, or if they really did stand still and stare at her. Big 18th birthday helium balloons blowing into her, and her legs tucked under a white tablecloth that she stained with red wine the first moment the boat took a queasy lurch. “Yeah, the food was delicious,” she said. “It was really so unexpected, and lovely.”

“Aw, that’s great,” Jade said. She had an absent way of reacting to things that made it seem like she was barely listening. She poured the tea. The milk was not in a jug, but still in its carton, sitting boorishly on the tray. 

“And show them,” Joshua urged. Lissa presented her wrist to the room, the silver charm bracelet glinting in the light. 

“It’s Pandora.” Joshua said. 

Her father glanced up. “Looks very nice.”

“Yes,” Lissa agreed. “I’m really grateful. It was so generous. This on its own would have honestly been more than enough, but there were the roses, too. Everything! The concert tickets…”

“Ooh!” said Jade, settling back. “What concert?”

“Coldplay.”

“Next May,” Joshua said. “Isn’t that brilliant? I got seats right near the front.”

“Completely amazing, for sure,” Lissa said, though couldn’t resist adding: “Just it’s awful close to the exams, is the only thing.”

There was a pause. 

“Yes, but it’s one night, just.” He squeezed her hand as if to anchor her. “Close to exams, but worth it.”

She looked down at him, stroking her hand with his thumb. “Yeah, see, it’s on an awkward night. Tuesday. I wonder why they don’t have concerts on the weekends, for those of us studying.”

“That’s just the night it’s on.”

She sensed an encore of the terse conversation they’d had about this in the car coming, but Lissa had a compulsion to speak her mind that was impossible to curb, even as her instincts screamed in protest. “I’m just thinking that in May, studying will take maximum priority over, say, a concert.”

Her father was staring at her. “Lissa, darling. It’s one evening.”

“Yes, but every hour counts. The night I’m out watching a concert, there’ll be someone else at home studying that extra bit. Who might have an edge on me, and get into the course I want instead of me.”

“Quite extreme thinking, love.”

“We’ll enjoy it,” Joshua insisted. “When the day comes, we’ll be excited, and I’m sure you won’t be so nervous about exams by then, because you’ll be so prepared.”

Lissa tried to cut in. He continued anyway. 

“Anyway. We haven’t got to tell Jarlath and Jade about the next part of the evening yet.” He looked from Lissa’s father to her stepmother and grinned. “The fireworks display.”

“Oh, wow,” Jade drawled. “That’s very fancy, isn’t it?”

“We got to watch them from the table. I had them timed to music, Lissa, did you notice?”

“Yes!” she said. “Wow, yeah, it was so cool. I love that song.”

“I know you do.”

“What song?” Jade said, and as Joshua explained, Lissa seized the opportunity to zone out—stared back at the fire and fiddled with the hem of her skirt with one hand while he kept diligent hold of the other. 

It was as though something inside her had flatlined since the afternoon. Surely, turning eighteen was supposed to make her feel something about herself, but she flooded with anxiety. About everything. About crossing the invisible threshold. Becoming an adult while still feeling the same as she did yesterday as a child. About the strangers watching her on the docks. Projected looks of disapproval on their faces in her mind, like they could tell she wasn’t grateful enough for her gifts. They thought her a snob. Maybe she already had that thing about her that singled her out as wealthy. The thing about her face. Or her clothes. Her feet were bare now, and carried marks, all shiny and raw from where her shoes had rubbed. Look! She wanted to say to nobody in particular. My feet blister just like everyone else!

Or maybe she just wanted to say it to Nick Lynott. She imposed the same twist of disapproval on his face. Made him point at her from the steps of his school, and say to his friends: “Lads, didn’t I tell you she was a bit–?” What? Serious? Intense? Strange? 

And she’d do what? Deny it? She had no grounds to. Maybe she’d stand there by the lights and start crying, hoping maybe if she was pathetic enough, they’d at least feel bad for her and stop jeering. Nick and his cronies. She wasn’t sure what was more disturbing to her. What she’d heard him almost-say about her, or the fact he was surrounded by a group of adoring friends. Nick? Nick? What was to adore about Nick?

“Dad?” She heard herself saying, and the room lapsed into abrupt silence. She had interrupted their conversation. 

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you know Ben Lynott’s son?”

Perplexed enough to rest his paper on his lap, his brows knitted. “Nicholas. Yes. He was at our wedding, actually,” looked at Jade. “Do you remember, honey? We were speaking to him after the reception with his parents. Tall young chap, dark hair…”

“Oh yeah,” she smiled, enchanted. “He was as cute. Real clever little fellow.”

“Well, yes, whatever,” Lissa said. “I was just wondering about him. I thought I saw him today. Does he go to the Institute of Education by any chance?”

“He was at boarding school in Kildare for years, but apparently had trouble focussing. Ben and Linda might have sent him to the Institute to up his marks a bit.”

“Hm,” Lissa sat, a rigid figure. “So they’re just paying for him to pass his exams, basically.”

“Well,” Jarlath raised a brow. “I imagine there’s some degree of work involved.”

“But not the same as for everyone else, really, is there? Hardly fair.”

“I suppose life’s not that fair, Lissa. If you wanted the Institute, I could have arranged it.”

“Beyond the point,” she said. “And I’d never have wanted that. It’s basically cheating your way into college.”

He was picking up his paper again. “You could look at it that way if you chose to.”

Lissa thought it was typical of him not to care, not to see value in doing things the correct way, or in the cost to her to try. Her nostrils flared. 

“Here,” Joshua gently adjusted the bracelet on her wrist. Speaking so quietly as if to influence her voice. “Let Jade have a closer look at your charms. See the little bookworm. Isn’t that just so her?”

“Oh yes, show me,” Jade said. “Can’t get over how gorge it is.”

Lissa sighed. Relented. Smiled obligingly at her stepmother and held out her bracelet for closer inspection.  

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Merry Christmas / Happy Jól!

Merry Christmas, or rather Happy Jól, from the Simsland Royal Family!

I had hoped to share a festive group edit with the cast, but unfortunately, I’ve been too ill to put one together. 

Thankfully, Forgotten-pixels has very kindly allowed me to share her beautiful royal portrait of Queen Melody, which you can download to use in your game. 

A screenshot and download link are shared…

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