Page 55 of TJ Powar Has Something to Prove
A dark-haired, bearded man wearing a coat opens the door and smiles. “Hello! You must be TJ.”
TJ blinks. For some reason, she hadn’t thought to ask Charlie if his parents would be home. She shifts awkwardly, eyes darting away, as thoughI MADE OUT WITH YOUR SONis stamped on her forehead. “Uh, hi,” she says, mouth dry. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rosencrantz.”
He stares at her for a split second and then lets out a big belly laugh. He clutches on to the doorframe, shoulders shaking, and TJ feels immensely awkward until he collects himself.“I’m the stepdad,” he clarifies, pushing up his hipster glasses. “Call me Derek.”
Oh. TJ’s face heats. How could she be this dense? The man in front of her doesn’t even remotely resemble Charlie. “I’m so sorry—”
Derek, still chuckling, leans back a little to shout into the house. “Mr. Rosencrantz! Your friend is here!”
“I heard her,” Charlie’s voice says from what sounds like the next room, and then he appears into view with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his chinoshorts. She’d told him to wear shorts or they’d be doing this in his underwear. She’d also regretted saying it because he raised his eyebrows in response, but thankfully, it looks like he’s taken her advice. Somehow he still looks refined. “Well, come in.” He gestures for her to follow. Derek keeps the door open for her.
She follows Charlie through the cozy living room, squeezing past the well-loved couch to the adjoining kitchen, where a brunette woman with amber eyes is wiping her hands on a dish towel. “TJ. So nice to see you again.”
TJ returns her smile. She vaguely knows Charlie’s mom, because she used to volunteer at tournaments when they were younger and would bring mouthwatering latkes to debate luncheons. “Nice to see you, too.”
“TJ, you should tell her your theory about how I’m the product of incest,” Charlie says.
“Charlie!” TJ gasps, laughing nervously. Until right now, she’d totally forgotten ever making that comment, and now in the context of his parental situation it sounds about a hundredtimes worse. “I never said anything like—”
But then she realizes Charlie’s mom is laughing, too. Joined by Derek’s big, booming laughs.
“I see nothing’s changed,” Charlie’s mom says when she’s recovered.
White parents are a trip.
“All right, kids, we’re off,” Derek says. “Keep him out of trouble, will you, TJ?” He winks. TJ barely has time to stammer a goodbye before the front door shuts behind them.
Charlie hops onto a bar stool at the kitchen island. “Make yourself at home. No need to stand there looking uncomfortable.”
There’s a laughing note to his voice. TJ scowls. “One day, I’ll introduce you tomyfamily, and you’ll have a whole new definition of uncomfortable.”
“Looking forward to it.” He beckons her to sit. “Should we start with the Proposition case? We still haven’t figured out our plan.”
TJ opens her laptop, and they spend the first hour hammering out their ideas for how they’d carry out the resolution if it became law. Then they switch to Side Opposition to figure out a counterplan. In this case, how to address the problems that come with complete freedom of speech without actually taking away freedom of speech. It’s a tricky thing, and TJ’s yawning after a while of trawling the internet for research.
After what feels both like forever and half a second, Charlie closes his laptop. “I’m going cross-eyed.”
TJ pushes away her laptop, too, and stretches her limbs. Thekitchen is encased in semidarkness. They hadn’t bothered turning on any lights as it grew late. “Then I guess we should take a break. Did you buy the wax?”
She’s giving him an out. But he doesn’t take it. “It’s in the bathroom.”
“Then lead the way.”
The bathroom down the hall is small and neatly organized. TJ is about to change that. She pulls items from her bag one by one and lays them on the counter. First, her wax warmer, then a roll of muslin fabric, scissors, baby powder, and a Ziploc bag of popsicle sticks. All stuff that’s been collecting dust at home for the past few months after she tossed her wax.
Charlie picks up the sticks. “Are we waxing or doing a craft project?”
“One could argue that waxingisan art.” She plucks the sticks out of his hand and puts them back on the counter. “Sit on the ledge of the tub.”
He obeys. That’s when she notices a problem.
“Your leg hair is too long,” she informs him. “Do you have a trimmer?”
He points to a drawer. She finds it and hands it to him. “Work on that. It just needs to be a bit shorter.” She shows him the length with her thumb and pointer finger.
He turns the trimmer on, the buzzing filling the room. “I didn’t see this step in my research.”
Charlie has no idea what he’s gotten into. Trying to suppress her smirk, TJ plugs in the wax warmer and starts cutting strips of muslin fabric.