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Thankfully, the attention moves away from me pretty soon. Simon’s brother, Gabe, is here. After leaving the cult or whatever they were raised in, the kid abruptly went from looking like a fresh-faced farm boy to dying his hair black and getting his ears and septum pierced.

It’s a decent reminder that for all the issues I had with my daddy growing up, things sure could’ve been worse. When I was real young he wasn’t even so bad.

Prince, one of our newer members, leans over to me. “Hey. What’s this about pretending you’re engaged?”

As a waitress puts a carafe of orange juice in front of me, I search for the words to explain better than I did before.

“Ella’s school; she can’t stay there. It doesn’t seem safe, and they’ve made it clear they don’t know how to teach her. They’re suggesting a school where the, uh…”

Fudge. Sometimes it’s like my brain loses words.

“Curriculum?”

“Yes. Thanks. They’re suggesting someplace that could tailor the curriculum to her needs would be better. I’ve looked into this private school, and a client even reached out to help get us an interview, but they apparently prefer to know the child applying has a stable home life. I figure going in there with a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever might not sound stable enough, but I can’t go in there saying I’m married when I’m not.”

Prince, who has enough piercings in his face to short-circuit a metal detector, shrugs his shoulders. “I could do it.”

One ear has at least eight rings. Three more in his nose, two in his left eyebrow, and another encircles his bottom lip. I’m not sure it’s going to win me any favors if I bring him to an entrance interview.

He must be able to read minds. “Don’t worry, I can take these out. Believe it or not, I’m good around those folks. I went to a private school.”

That’s news. Who comes from a family that can afford that kind of tuition and ends up sucking dick for money? Guess you never know what’s going on with other people.

“Okay. Good. Thanks.”

Next to me, Michael is busy handing out financial advice to Ravi, who recently came into a bunch of money. He’s still getting paid to dance at parties, weirdly enough. Apparently, his boyfriend comes along now to act as security.

Ravi thanks Michael enthusiastically for whatever he just said, and a bunch of people around the table chime in about how great Michael is, how helpful Michael is, how perfect Michael is.

Michael, Michael, Michael.

Perfect Michael then steps on my foot, either accidentally or on purpose, and to cover my pain, I simply nod at Prince with even more enthusiasm. Since the next thing Michael does is slide a cup of coffee my way, I can’t tell. The pain in my foot doesn’t keep me from murmuring a grateful “thank you” when I realized he’s dressed it up exactly how I like it.

Now I’ve lost track of what Prince was talking about. Or what I was agreeing to.

“Anyway, my schedule is pretty light these days,” Prince continues. “Also, I have a second job doing some freelance graphic design, so that’ll be good for the interview.”

“Second job?”

He takes a bite of his yogurt parfait, contemplating me. “I mean…they’re probably going to ask what kind of job you have. I assume the tuition is hefty. They’re going to want to make sure you have the means to pay.”

Shiii…sugar. I knew that, too. But I’d conveniently forgotten. “I don’t have a second job. Is there a way to fake that, you think?”

There must be. People can fake everything these days. I’m always telling Ella it’s wrong to lie, but desperate times and all.

Prince shrugs and swallows another bite. His face is kind of red, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him look anything close to flustered. He’s usually silent. Very chill.

Maybe this is one of those times when I just have to accept that I don’t understand and turn my attention elsewhere. Adam and Troy show up with their new boyfriend, because when they say they share everything, I guess they mean it. That’s been a big topic of interest lately, but I don’t know why everyone’s surprised. All those people who had bets going on whether they were a couple? They were practically fused at the hip. Makes perfect sense to me they’d share a boyfriend.

‌I didn’t put any money in the pool. Never bet anything you’re not a hundred percent certain you’re willing to lose.

Something else I learned from my daddy.

While I’m lost in thought, Prince does something I don’t expect. He scoots his chair closer. “How about this? Let’s get dinner and we can talk it out, huh? See if there’s a way I can help.”

This is one of those times when I wonder if I need to offer him something more than pizza. Money? Sex? In our world, that’s how things work. But also, in my daughter’s world, you do things to be nice, and I’m trying to get my head around that, too. I don’t want Ella growing up thinking she owes someone something if they’re nice to her.

Not that I have any idea how to do that, but I guess when in doubt, lead by example? The only alternative I can think of is showing a kid the wrong way to live, and I know from experience that isn’t a good way to grow up.