2017

"Why can't you just leave me alone!" 13 year old Deanna Keller shouted
Steve sighed, "If that's what you want" he hefted the heavy backpack on his shoulders and left the room
"God, you are such a pushover" she smirked. She slipped her earbuds back into place and continued dancing to her favorite song. "Yeah, yeah, yeah" she sang, only it sounded more like something else.
Steven Keller shook his head. He could hear his daughter down the hall. He shut the door, not because he wanted to, but because he had another night of grading essays. He sat down in his desk chair, scratched his scruffy beard, and sighed. The paper stack seemed to have only grown as the evening had turned to night.
"These aren't really due until Monday" he rationalized, "I can do it later" he grinned momentarily. Steve glanced back to the closed door. He thought about asking his daughter if she wanted to watch television with him, but thought better of it. So much had changed in such little time that he wasn't sure who she was anymore.

In her room, Deanna danced some more, twerking her body like her favorite reality TV stars. "Maybe Rylan will be interested in me now" she stuck her hip out in front of the mirror. Then she pouted to her own reflection. "Yeah, this is a great selfie" she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of herself.

In his bedroom, or rather his home office, as it had become overrun with books, papers, and teaching material, Steve sat in his desk chair, his head in his hand, his elbow propped on one denim covered knee, the DVD remote on the floor. The television blared on, "You have to, you're my father!" an Asian girl screamed at a red haired man.
But Steve wasn't paying attention. He didn't see when the little Asian girl hopped over the guardrail and into the bear pit. His mind was elsewhere.
Things were easier then, years ago, not like they are now. Years ago, before the kids, before his marriage, before his divorce, before all of it; back when he could sit back and enjoy a good show, eat some cereal or a snack, and be enthralled by another favorite episode.
"Daddy, save me!" the Asian girl screamed. Steve smiled wryly. "Deanna used to love this" he remembered. She'd cling to him, her arms around his neck, both scared and amazed at what happened on the screen. "Are the bears going to eat her up?" she'd ask.
"Just wait and find out" he'd always gently let her know. He tried not to give away the ending. Then again, she was only four then.
Sharon had been there, always busy, always doing something, even though she'd grown up with the same television shows. In fact, looking back, that was the strangest thing about their relationship. It seemed like no matter what Steve had done, it had been expected, and everything that Sharon had done, had apparently been absolutely fine, or he should've thanked her for doing it. Maybe it was better when they split up. It was better for everyone.
Except Deanna.
"She'd cried, God, how she'd cried" he thought back. The courts had decided, for a change, that he'd win sole custody. Her behavior, Sharon's, had been a deciding factor. Rages of anger, waves of guilt, and just as quick, bursts of happiness, and their ensuing related activities
The courts had decided that Steve was a better parent, with his steady, yet low paying job, and a stable household, that he could better provide a home for young Deanna.
Of course, now, that stable household was anything but a home.

Meanwhile in her bedroom, Deanna was already texting Bev, another girl in her class, "I rly wnt hm to like me"
"U gotto prove t hm that ur d won" she wrote back
"Hw?"
"dunno"
"gt it" Deanna wrote back. She dropped her phone on the bed, and yanked off her cropped t-shirt. In her skinny jeans and her underthings, she grabbed her phone and snapped a picture.
"Hey, Dee" Steve called.
"Oh God" she thought. Footsteps were approaching
"I was going to start dinner, and was wondering if- " the door opened, "you wanted—What the hell is going on?" his calm voice turned into a roar.
"It was nothing" she shouted back, "I was just- just" she slammed her phone down on the bed. It bounced and fell to the floor. The cover popped off.
"You were just what?" Steve fumed. His dark eyebrows furrowed and his blue eyes shone like sapphires with anger. "Put your shirt on and get in the living room- Now!"
"But- I was – he" she began
"Now!" he bellowed. Steve spun on his heels and stormed down the hallway.
Minutes later, Deanna sat on the couch, waiting for the lecture. It would always come. It was always the same, "Why can't you just be yourself. Why can't you stop trying to grow up so fast?" What did he know about growing up? He was already grown up and he still watched cartoons like a baby.
Steve stood opposite her, blocking the darkened television.
"I've tried everything I can do" he was frustrated. She could tell by his voice. This time, it was different, "I'm at my wit's end, Deanna. You're thirteen, and I know that seems really grown up, but you're still a child"
"I'm a teenager" she shot back
"I know" he nodded, "And when I was thirteen, I was interested in girls, too, but if a girl ever did something like that, taking photographs like that-"
"Selfies"
"Whatever they're called" he frowned, "I wouldn't have given a girl like that a second thought"
"You don't have to worry about that. Rylan will never even look at me"
"Then he's not the right kind of boy"
"What do you want me to do? Find somebody like you? Jesus God, Dad, you're nearly forty and you're watching cartoons and playing with dolls. Even I don't do that!"
Steve sighed. "Yeah" he nodded, "You're right"
"I'm so angry that- wait- I'm right?" she stopped. No, she couldn't have heard that correctly.
"Things changed over time" he walked over and sat on the couch next to her. A space was empty between them. It was only a cushion's worth of space, but it felt like a chasm. "That was something your mother said, too" he smiled wryly, "Are you going to do that when we're married? She'd asked, buy toys" he gave a dry chuckle, "I didn't want you to be embarrassed of me. You used to like playing dolls with your old man"
"That was a long time ago" she'd calmed down, too
"Sure" he didn't really believe his own words
"I tried to do everything I could. It's just not enough" he looked at his lap, "Maybe, maybe you would be better off living with your mother" he sighed
"Dad, it's not like that"
"It's not a threat" he looked at her, "You're right, I'm a grown man who watches cartoons and plays with dolls. What could you possibly learn from me?"
"Don't get like this" Deanna stood up, "Just ground me or yell at me or something"
"Oh, you're grounded" he smiled, "no phone, no computer, come straight home after school"
"But, what about-" she started
"No, no concert"
"But come on!" she stamped her foot on the floor
"No, I'm not coming on anything" Steve glared at her
"You're so gross" Deanna spun on her sneakered heel and ran out of the room
"Get married, they said, have kids, they said, it'll be fun, they said" Steve mumbled

Deanna stormed into her room, slammed the door closed, and stared at her surroundings. Pastel pink walls that she'd once loved, but now detested, were covered with rock band posters and images of teen idols. Her writing desk, meant as a place to do homework, was sandwiched between her bed and a pair of white bookshelves, her father's idea that stood in an L shape and took up the corner of the room. They'd moved soon after her mother had left. "Smart choice" Deanna scowled at her bookshelves. Once filled with everything from fairy tales to romance novels, now they were home to a collection of electronic gadgets, makeup bottles and boxes, and several boxes for her jewelry. Opposite the bookshelves was a built in closet with accordion doors. Her clothes hung on racks or in plastic drawers. The room looked like a boy had designed it, because, well, one had. Deanna had wanted to redo the room over, now that she was grown up, but her father had explained that money was tight for the time being. They'd moved to the house when she was eight, and though her collection of dolls, stuffed animals, and board games diminished over time until they were housed in the garage, her room still stunk of age regression. "Anyone would think I stole this place from a five year old" she knitted her eyebrows. Deanna stared at herself in the mirror that was attached to the wall.
Brown hair, like her dad, but hers was dyed with stripes of blue and black. Edgy, the way she liked it.
Blue eyes, like him, too, but they had mascara. She had just started a year ago, and thanks to her friend Bev, she'd gotten pretty good at it.
A rock band t-shirt, cut under the arms, showing off her stomach. Low hung skinny jeans. She kicked off her canvas sneakers- they were really retro, and flopped down on the bed. Deanna stared at the ceiling. There was a poster pinned to her ceiling. She'd still been into that stupid kid's show back then. God, eight was a lifetime ago. Some artist had made the poster, Wil Minute-O or something. She could never say his name right. Maginot? Try as she might, she couldn't reach the ceiling from her bed to rip the damn thing down. So tonight, she just stared at it in anger.
"I'm going out to pick up some dinner" Steve called from outside the room, "Did you want something in particular?"
"How about some Cyanide?" she was still angry
"Sounds great!" he called from down the hallway. The door opened and closed.
Then he was gone.
Deanna sat up. She threw on her sneakers, leapt from her bed and was down the hall in a matter of moments. She'd show him.
The master bedroom was unlocked. It always was. He was so worried about a fire or something that he'd never bother with locks on the inner doors. Deanna strode into the study like she owned the place, switched on the television. "Damn, one of his stupid tapes was on"
The intro was starting already, "Me and my friends are Jem girls, Jem, Jem is my name" the teenaged singer belted out the theme song.
Then something happened, the intro warped into a black screen. Then, one of the singers- what was her name? Kimberly? She came onscreen. "There's not going to be a show today" she explained, "Jem is-"
"What the hell is happening here?" Deanna stared at the screen.
But the animated character went on, "It's time you quit being a major league pain to your dad" she stared right at the camera, if there was a camera- it was like she was staring right at Deanna.
"What a bunch of garbage" the teenager aimed the remote at the DVR player
"I wouldn't do that" the redhead spoke from the screen, "In fact, I think you could see what my sister says being a superstar is all about"
There was a blinding flash of light, and Deanna couldn't see. She shut her eyes to shield them from the blast of luminescence.
When she opened her eyes again, she was standing in front of a cream colored mansion.
A blonde woman exited the mansion's front doors and walked right up to her, "Hi" she smiled, "You must be Deanna. I'm so glad you'll be staying with us. I'm Jerrica Benton"