Official Choices

Turning eighteen is supposed to be some big damn thing.

You might not feel any different, you might make the same stupid mistakes, but now you have to take responsibility for your mistakes because that's what an adult does.

They take responsibility.

For most people though, the day you turn eighteen doesn't actually turn out to be that big of a deal. You might drink, you might party, but for the most part it ends without anything changing your life.

Triss wished that she'd had a normal fucking eighteenth.

Instead, after having a party with some of her friends where they'd had some fun teasing games, she played around with some blowup dongs and condoms whilst everyone laughed at her, she was now in tears.

She wasn't crying because of the party, that had been fun.

She was crying, because of her mother.

After everyone had headed home, her mum had pulled her aside and told her that for the last ten years of her life, she'd been lying to her. That she didn't mean for it to get out of hand, but didn't know how to tell her.

The massive sequence of expletives that had left Triss' mouth and been directed at her mother had definitely been adult-like. Maybe not the tantrum itself, but Triss thought she should get a pass on that.

It wasn't everyday that someone came back from the dead.

"Ten fucking years." Triss muttered angrily, lying on her back with her feet against the door as she stared sightlessly at the ceiling and cried.

Ten years ago, her mum had told her that her dad was dead. That he died in a freak accident at work, when she was even younger, and that was the reason he wasn't around and she didn't talk about him.

Triss could only vaguely remember him.

Shadows of someone tall, who used to hold out their hands, and she'd grab on, and walk right on up their legs before falling into a cuddle.

On the other hand, Triss couldn't remember the last time her mother had given her a hug.

Not entirely true.

Right after to confessing to have made up a bullshit story, and lying to her for a decade, her mum had tried to hug her to say sorry. To apologise for making Triss think her dad was dead and fucking buried.

Her mum didn't know if he was dead.

Didn't know where he lived, just that she'd fallen out of love with him. Instead of going through with a divorce and maybe having to share Triss, the woman had packed up her things in the middle of the night and disappeared.

Which really only left Triss with a name, and a ten-year out-of-date address in another city.

Screw it.

If this is what adulting had to be, then Triss was going to make her own decisions, even if they were bad ones.

She rolled over onto her stomach, and pulled out her phone. She pulled up the public transport site and checked the timetables. She could catch a train early tomorrow, and be back at that old address by lunch time.

It was a hell of a long shot, but it was the only place to start that she could find.

She'd tried searching her dad's name on social media, and got absolutely nowhere. It was as if he'd never had an account, which he might actually not have.

Triss knew her dad had been a techy of some sort. Some of her geek friends were weirded out by the privacy on some platforms and refused to get on board.

She didn't even have a clue what he looked like.

Triss took after her mother.

She had long blonde hair down to her waist, that was kind of curled but not exactly curly. The kind of look that most girls her age would spend an hour making with a straightening iron, but just happened naturally for her.

Bright blue eyes, just like her mother's. Eyes that she could blink prettily, and people would believe whatever shit fell out of her mouth. Just like she'd believed when her mother told her that he was gone.

She was relatively short, too.

That she'd always resented and blamed her mother for. It wasn't fun having guys always asking if she needed their help to reach a shelf... And actually needing their help.

Triss figured that her dad was probably a blonde, too. That seemed to be how genetics worked. She couldn't be sure, but it was something she put in the probably pile.

She'd asked to see pictures of her dad for fucking years, and her mum had always said that she'd lost them. That she'd put them away somewhere for safe keeping.

When she'd asked, after the fucking lies came out, it turned out her mother had actually burned them.

Which was when Triss had stormed off, unable to talk to her, anymore. She just couldn't do it.

She wasn't sure if she was running away from home, tomorrow. She might come back. She might not. All she wanted for tomorrow was to find some tangible proof that her dad existed.

Worst birthday, ever.

Triss dropped her head onto the ground, and found herself crying again.

---

Sitting on a train filled with people in suits, all of them as freezing as she was, and all of them cradling a coffee like she was, Triss finally took a moment to realise how insane she was being.

She was going to another city, to try and meet a strange guy, in a place she could never remember going, before. All by herself.

She should have arranged for one of her friends to go with her, especially one of the jocks. That would have been the intelligent thing to do, the adult thing to do.

She sipped at the boiling liquid of her coffee, tasting the burned grinds that were somehow part of the brew despite it being one of the first of the day, and made a face.

She was fine.

She could do this, because she was an adult, now. Nobody could tell her what to do, and nobody would try and tell her what to do. She was just going on an adventure.

Triss pulled out her phone, and text one of her friends. Letting her know where she was going, and asking them to call her if she didn't let them know she was home at the end of the day.

The phone rang.

"Hey, Kirstie." She picked it up.

Her friends voice was groggy, "Why are you taking off? This early in the morning. And why should I care?"

"Um... So it's a long story... But... I might be about to meet a guy." Triss swallowed.

Kirstie sounded anything but impressed. "The fuck, Triss! Please tell me that you're not trying to lose your virginity to some dating app hookup."

"What? No!" She protested, and cringed as people started to look her way. "Look, I'm on the train. People are staring. It... It's a long story, but it isn't like that. Not a romance, and not a date."

"Just tell me." The girl said gruffly.

Triss blinked back tears, "Mum lied. Dad... Dad's alive. Maybe. I've got his old address, and nothing else. So..."

"So you ran off to see if you could find him, before realising you were running off to a total stranger's house." Kirstie said tiredly, "Wow. Also, your mum is a total bitch. Can I hate her, now?"

"Yes." Triss said angrily, "I... He probably won't still live there. And I don't think I'll find him. But..."

"Gotta try." Kirstie sighed, "Wish you'd told me, earlier. Would have come with you. If you don't find him this time, let me in on the hunt. What's his name?"

Triss smiled sadly, "Don't bother looking him up online. You won't find him. Mateo. She kept his last name."

"Wow. I hate that name." Kirstie laughed, "I'd stick to calling him Daddy, if I were you. Where'd he live?"

Triss sniffled, "Torquay. Thanks, Kirz. I... I'm sorry."

"You're trying to find your dad. Your mum was a bitch, but at least she finally told you." Her friend replied, "Just... Text me. A whole bunch. I'm going to be worried. 'Kay? Send me the actual address, too."

"Yeah." She swallowed, "My bad. Um... I should go. Before people do more than glare at me."

"See ya, babe." Kirstie hung up.

Triss bit the edge of her phone for a moment afterwards. What if she got there, and she thought the guy was her dad, but he wasn't. And what if he tried to use that?

She could handle a guy.

She'd been fending them off for years, keeping herself for herself. Her first time wasn't going to be some handsy guy, it was going to be someone she cared about.

Whilst Triss might be short, and everyone might assume she was weak because she had a skinny little waist, she was about as far from defenceless as she could be.

She might be crying and upset over her dad, but that didn't make her usually a mess, either.

Triss had even proved it, just last year. Some ass had snatched her purse at a footy game, and she'd run him down. Sprinted after him for a full three city blocks until he was winded, and she wasn't.

After which she crash tackled him, took back her bag, and made sure he didn't go anywhere until the cops arrived to deal with the dick.

That story had even made the paper, though it thankfully hadn't gone viral.

The paper had nicknamed her Tenacious Triss. Which had somewhat stuck around when they had come back to doing a feel-good piece on one of the local charity runs.

Triss always ran in them. She never felt as free as she did when she was running. She preferred running through the forest to the urban jungle, but she ran almost a dozen marathons a year.

She'd be fine, whatever she found where she was going.

Triss sipped at her coffee again, and relaxed into the chair. Leaning into the uncomfortable seat and taking a deep breath.

She should be able to try and enjoy herself, if she didn't find him. Torquay had an awesome movie theatre, but more than that, it had a great beach and half-decent surf.

She'd always wanted to rent out one of those beach-side cabins for a long weekend. Fall asleep listening to the sea, wake up to go running along the shoreline. She might see if she could afford to do that, after.

Her dad's old place wasn't that far from the shore. The map on her phone said it was about a five minute walk. Ten minutes from the indie movie place she'd been to a couple times, too.

Triss smiled to herself.

Even if today was a total disappointment, she was going to enjoy the hell out of herself, afterwards.

---

The early morning cold was even worse in the city. The wind ripped right through Triss' jacket like it wasn't even there and made her tits so cold that they were numb and hurting at the same time.

She chewed on the edge of her coffee cup for a full minute, as she stood outside the house on the hill. Staring at the doorbell, and wondering what she was going to say.

The people inside, if there was anyone, would probably have not a damn clue who she was. It was just going to be... Awkward.

"Can I help you?"

Her heart leaped into her mouth, and Triss spun around nervously. Seeing a guy with short and fiery red hair, leaning on his knees and puffing from a run he'd obviously been on.

He looked older, but not that much older than her. One of those deceptively young looking stereotypes. She couldn't really tell exactly how old he was. He could be anywhere from his late twenties to early fifties.

She swallowed nervously, "Um... This is going to sound... Weird... But... Um... Do you... Know who lives here?"

"That'd be me." He said, still catching his breath. He leaned up, stretching his back. "And yeah, live alone. So. How can I help?"

Triss' mouth went dry, "Um... How long have you lived here? I... I'm looking for someone."

He eyed her with suspicion, and then his eyes widened, "Holy shit. You look just like your mother. Holy fucking shit."

She gasped, staring at him, "You... You know who I am?"

"Fuck." He said, dumbfounded, "Uh... I doubt she kept your name. At the end, she said she hated it. Your mum, she was Ruby, right? Ruby Connor, before she married me."

Triss burst into tears, "Mateo? That's... Your name?"

"Mateo Phillips."

She breathed a sigh of relief, and then found herself dizzy and leaned against a column of the verandah, "Mum kept your name. I can't believe it. I found you. I... I really didn't think I would... I... I'm Beatrice. Triss."

"I guess... Come inside?" He said, fishing his keys out of his pocket, and staring at her in wonder.

As he walked passed her, Triss tried to drink in the sight of him. Memorise everything about him. She didn't want to forget a single detail.

Which meant that she noticed that he was fit.

His legs, and arms, weren't exactly well toned. It wasn't like the muscle was obvious, but it was there, all the same. His ass, especially, was right up there with any surfer that Triss had flirted with.

She followed him into the house with trepidation, chewing on the edge of her cup.

He tossed his keys into a nearby bowl on a bench, and waved a hand around. "This is my place. Uh... Sit wherever. I want to grab something. Box of papers."

Triss felt too awkward to sit.

She continued looking around his open-plan house. The kitchen bordered onto a loungeroom, with a white-tiled floor. The house entrance opening into the joined space.

There was a sliding glass door leading out of the lounge and into a backyard that looked like it was mostly concrete, but was under some kind of sail cloth.

There was a swinging chair out there, too.

She'd just noticed that there were photos hanging on the wall when she heard the man come back.

He was carrying a box, just like he'd said he would. He put it down on his couch, gesturing to it, and then headed into the kitchen. "I need a coffee. You need a refill?"

"No... Um... Trash?"

He held out his hand, and she passed him the empty cup, before she approached the box. She opened it slowly, and found it was filled to nearly overflowing with paper.

She picked up the top one, and scanned it.

Triss put it aside slowly, and picked up another, her eyes picking out the dates on the invoices. She reefed through it, and looked up at him as she threatened to burst into tears, "Every month? Since...?"

He nodded, smiling at her sadly, "I tried... So hard... To find you. Everything I could think of. Private investigators, after filing police reports went absolutely nowhere. Trying to find either of you."

She sat down on the couch, and rubbed at her face, "I don't normally cry. I just... It was my eighteenth, yesterday."

"I know." He grinned lopsidedly, "Happy birthday... Triss."

She bit her lip, "That's when mum told me. She... Lied about you. Lied to me, for so long. She told me you were dead. That my dad died on a construction yard."

"Oh, Ruby." He said sadly and shook his head, "Things... Ended badly, between us. If you dig to the bottom, you'll find some legal papers. She refused the divorce. Didn't want to acknowledge things were over between us."

Triss blinked, "Huh? Mum lied about that as well? She said she just fell out of love with you, packed up and left."

"That's partly true." He nodded, "She did pick up and leave, overnight. You were only three years old, at the time. My little Lorelai."

Triss instantly went digging.

She found what he'd mentioned. Legal documents, including an order to hand over one Lorelai Phillips, with her birthday, to Mateo. He'd said something about that, her mum not liking her name.

"Lorelai? I've got a birth certificate. It doesn't say Lorelai on it."

Mateo came over, reefing through the box and pulled out one of the reports from one of the people he'd hired. She took it, reading over it. The man had found a record of a name change request, but hadn't got what the name had been changed to.

She would have been only four, at the time.

"I don't mind Triss, it's cute. Suits you." He said, smiling at her nervously.

She shook her head, "Fuck mum. Lorelai. That's what you should call me. I... I still can't believe I found you."

He sat down on a nearby chair, giving the couch to her, and leaning his elbows on his knees. She could see her own eyes in his face. His nose, was hers. Her jawline, was his. She'd found her dad.

Mateo shook his head, "I'd given up. I kept paying and trying... But... I gave up five, six years ago. I'd never got close to finding you. And then... You just turn up on my doorstep."

"Why does mum hate you so much?" She asked cautiously.

He winced, "I partly deserve it. Our relationship fell right into the toilet, not long after you were born. She went through postpartum, and I didn't understand why I was basically raising you on my own. Resented her for it."

She nodded slowly, "That's a dick move. But... I get it, kinda. You both needed therapy, or whatever."

"Exactly. I take part of the blame." He nodded, "But... Your mum's coping strategy... That was rough on me. I don't exactly blame her for it. I blame myself for part of everything going to pot, and then there's a whole heap I blame no one for."

Triss... Lorelai, bit her lip, "Coping strategy?"

"I guess you're eighteen. It shouldn't be... Too big of a shock." He said slowly, "Your mum slept around. A lot."

She rolled her eyes, "Are you trying not to call her a slut? How many boyfriends did she have, behind your back?"

"She went to parties. Sex parties." He shrugged, "Behind my back. One of her friends felt guilty, and sent me photos she'd been posting on her social media pages."

Lorelai winced, "Gangbang?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, "Coping strategy. Not the healthiest, but at least she was trying to cope."

"You... Don't hate her." She said, her voice taking on a hint of anger, "She fucked around behind your back, when you were alone with a kid. Then she stole your kid and ran the fuck away. Lied about it for a decade. And you... Don't hate her."

"No. I don't." He shrugged, "Don't ask me to explain, can't. I'd never consider getting back together with Ruby, never consider trusting her, but... I loved her. I might, still."

"The. Fuck."

Mateo smiled at her, "You swear, a lot, don't you? Guess that's not a big deal. Just surprising to hear coming out of your mouth, for me."

Lorelai blushed, "Mum hates that, too."

"Don't hate it. Just surprises me." He shrugged, "I... Missed everything. But, I guess, I should introduce myself, first. To start with, I've never worked construction a day in my life."

She rolled her eyes, "Of course, mum fucking lied about that, too. So, what do you do?"

"I'm in advertising. Product design." He said, and went to the cupboard, grabbing out a bag of lollies and tossing them to her. "You've probably seen that animal design on a few of the homebrand things?"

She nodded, "I like the gummy worms. Wait. This is your design?"

"Yeah." He smiled, sitting down again, "I can bring up the originals on my laptop, if you want. But that's what I do for a living. Also a few wine labels, beer."

Lorelai turned the bag over in her hands, looking at all the cute little creatures, and then up at him, "So... You can draw, then?"

"Yes and no. Takes me a while." He shrugged, "I'm good at it, but it takes me a lot of effort. I'm not a natural. But... The client doesn't need to know that. It looks good by the time I'm done with it, and that's enough."

She grinned, and held up the bag, "Can I?"

"Huh? Oh. Sure. Knock yourself out." He shrugged, "I've got a few dozen of those lying around. I'm proud of them. So, you finished high school, yet?"

"Mmm." She nodded, "Basically waiting to hear what my ATAR was, but I've already got into the uni course I wanted, for next year. Sorta. Not sure I... Wanna stay, where I was. Not with mum."

"You could cut her a little slack. Just a little." He suggested politely.

She glared at him, "I know you're being nice. Being a dad. But fuck you if you defend her, again. Ever. I hate her fucking guts."

"Acknowledged, Triss." He gave a faux salute.

"Lorelai." She corrected him quickly, and grinned, "I... That name is really fucking pretty. You chose good."

"It's your grandmother's name. My name is a family name, too." He smiled and then pointed over to a wall, "That's your family... Lorelai."

She skipped to her feet, walking over and looking at a photobox. There were several generations. Even a girl her own age, who looked similar, but was a redhead. "Who's this?"