Even though my dad’s house was down the street from Wesson, it was around ten at night when I made it home. Dad’s car was outside, and I had missed curfew. I couldn’t just walk inside. That would have been too brazen.

I had an extraordinary ability that might have made sneaking in more accessible, but it came at a high risk.

Able to turn invisible, I might have walked inside without worry had my ability also allowed me to make my clothes transparent. But I couldn’t. I didn’t feel like stripping naked just to break into a house I lived in. Not to mention, without a perfect handle on my particular skill, there was always a chance of my becoming visible again too quickly. It was easier to try sneaking in through the back door and hoping Dad was already asleep.

Unfortunately, the back door was locked. The back door was never locked without a reason. He was waiting for me.

Walking back around to the front door, I noticed the lights in the living room were on. I put on my best golden child smile and readied myself for what I predicted was on the other side of that blue door.

As expected, Dad was sitting on the living room sofa. Still, in his greasy work clothes from the car garage, he sat in his usual scent of motor oil. With his back facing me, I truly thought I had a chance to sneak into my room without being noticed. That was until he spoke, of course. I had big ears, but my dad could hear a dime drop in the ocean.

“Where were you?” He asked without standing or even turning his head.

The sound of his voice made me freeze. Then his question compelled my legs to move forward, as if I was being summoned deeper into the room by my misdeeds. I stood at his side, and he glanced up at me before returning his gaze to the TV screen.

“Hi, it’s nice to see you too. How was your day? My day was good,” I spoke quickly, attempting to smooth things out before they started.

“Were you with a girl?”

“No, I was with Wes.”

“That’s ok too; just remember to use protection.”

“Dad, he’s my friend, not that.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said jokingly.

I couldn't decipher if he was mad or not. It was 10:05, which was only 35 minutes past my curfew. Since I had stayed out much later than that in the past, there was a chance he wouldn’t be as upset as I assumed.

“You’re not mad?” I asked.

“You’re going to do what you do, son. Your mother and I were the same around your age. Just be safe and don’t bring home children before you’re 25.”

“So I don’t have a curfew anymore?” I asked with a slight grin.

“The next time you miss curfew without calling home, don’t expect your phone bill to be paid.”

My grin quickly dissolved. “I’m going to bed,” I said.

“Wait.”

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Just as I was about to go, he grabbed my wrist. To my surprise, Dad didn’t say anything about my ripped shirt or the bandages on my hand. My bad luck made injuries less of a surprise in our house, but I never thought I’d see the day he wouldn’t lecture me over them. Had he had enough, or were my constant stitches something we were both numb to?

“There’s something we need to talk about.”

“I don’t need another sex talk, I haven’t gotten in trouble at school in almost a week, and I ...,” I said, trying to assume and avoid anything else my father might have had in mind, but in the end, I was cut off.

“You need to start looking for a summer job,” he said.

“A job,” I exclaimed.

“I let you go without one for so long because of your condition, but it’s time to face the fact that you may never find a cure or a spell to fix you. You can’t let your bad luck be the only thing in your life.”

“It’s not,” I said.

“I don’t want you sitting around the house sulking or wasting away.”

“Dad, I won’t. I already have plans for this summer.”

“Really?” He asked as though the idea of my having a life was a surprise.

“Yes, really. BJ and I are applying for an internship, and Wes wants me to go with him to a festival.”

“An internship? And a Festival?”

I didn’t want to be an intern, and going to a festival that seemed less than human-friendly was less than ideal. Desperate to keep my dad from thinking I was lifeless; I had no choice but to toss the ideas out into the air. If not for my friends, I might have spent my summer watching TV and contemplating my existence as “Danger Rabbit.”

“Yes, Dad. I’m not gonna sulk or lie around the house.”

“I worry, son.”

“I’m fine, I promise.”

I expected yelling or rage, but Dad was giving me worry and fear. There’s nothing worse or quite like the feeling of knowing your parents are afraid of where your life is going. It’s not the same as disappointing them, it’s something else entirely. To be honest, after my transformation, I was alone for a while, and I would sulk and feel sorry for myself. Then I met BJ and Wes. It would have been a lie to say I didn’t feel less than or alone and helpless at times, but having my friends made it a little easier to crawl out of those slumps when they came over me.

“One more thing,” he said before I walked away.

“Yes?”

“Your mother called; she wants to see you next weekend.”

“Do I have to?”

“You know it’s your decision, but your mother is finally trying.”

When I went to my bedroom and shut the door, my day had finally come to a close.

As usual, I checked the carrot traps I set for Mr. Nickels. Like always, the carrots were gone. Even if I never saw him, it was nice to know my rabbit was still around. Having avoided capture for six years, I was sure Mr. Nickels could have escaped the house, but for some reason, he hung around. I had gotten all my new abilities from him. Hearing, invisibility, and even my luck came from my pet rabbit. If he could do everything I could, and likely more, then why hadn’t Mr. Nickels run off?

It wasn’t summer yet, but I had plans, actual plans. Despite the love I had for my friends and how much I needed them, there was always an uneasy feeling I carried. Maybe I was better off staying home. Maybe I was better off alone. Regardless, after telling Dad about my summer plans, I had no other choice but to do something. That was unless I wanted to get a job.

As I got into bed, I weighed the avenues set by Wes and BJ.

“Good night, Mr. Nickels,” I said before shutting my eyes to sleep.

I could never say for sure, but every night when sleep came to take me, I could swear he jumped up into my bed. I’d feel him crawl up and sit on my chest, or rub against my cheek. Being exhausted, I wouldn’t move or reach to touch him. My eyes would stay shut for as long as I could imagine he was there. But I’d always peek eventually.

If I was lucky, I’d see a glimpse of Mr. Nickels before he’d hop away and everything went dark.

Nothing good could last forever, I guess.