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A painting I didn’t recognize. Was that new?

My dad pulled on the painting, and it opened, like it was a little door. On the wall behind the painting was a big red button.

I smiled. I loved my dad.

“Cameras ready?” my dad called over his shoulder.

RJ pulled his phone out of his pocket.

I was pretty sure he’d helped with this.

“What is happening?” Adonis asked.

My dad shoved him against the wall. “Your worst nightmare, kid. Keep your filthy hands off my daughter and your eyes off my wife.”

I hated that he had to say that.

“Or the next time, this will involve some broken bones. Because I won’t be worried about buckets. Do I make myself clear?”

“No?” Adonis said.

“Little shit.” My dad pressed the button and stepped back.

The ceiling made the strangest noise ever. Probably because it wasn’t a ceiling anymore. The white tarp-like material started to fold in half and there was a splashing noise.

I smiled at the sound of thick pudding falling onto the tarp.

Adonis looked up, but it was too late for him to do anything. The tarp was like a funnel right on him.

Vanilla pudding came out of the end of the tarp like a freaking waterfall, drenching Adonis from head to foot in the white goopy mess.

He tried to lift his hands to block it and somehow ended up slipping.

He landed hard on his ass.

I wanted to laugh. To somehow make light of this moment.

But barely anyone was even staring at Adonis flapping around in the pudding.

They were all staring at me. With sympathy in their eyes.

RJ smiled at the pictures on his phone. “Got a few good ones.”

“Good job, little me,” my dad said and put his arm around his shoulders as he looked at the photos.

Olivia screamed. Somehow a lot of pudding had flown onto Olivia. She screamed again.

At least she was only a junior. She’d get her real prom next year.

I’d never get mine. I took a step back.

“Baby girl, you’re going to love these,” my dad said and grabbed RJ’s phone. He tried to show me the pictures, but I couldn’t see through my tears.

“Dad.” My voice cracked.

“Was that not enough? Yeah, I was thinking the same. I’ll kill him then.”

“Stop it,” my mom said as she rushed over. “Sophie. Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know...”