Page 17 of Not Your Shoe Size

Deidre. Kate’s high school nemesis sounded nothing like her bratty teenage self; her tone was light and tinged with nerves as she jogged to her dad’s side.

“Sorry about the fuss,” Deidre said to Rapunzel. “Thanks for waiting outside for us.”

Rapunzel said something, but Kate didn’t hear it. Mr. Peterson had lowered his shaking hand. He was as movie-star handsome as he’d been when she was a teenager. Tanned skin, tousled surfer hair, and white, white teeth. Then he looked at her again, looked away and did a double take. “Katie? Is that you?”

“Hi,” she squeaked. “How are you?”

“Good!” He stepped closer, and she saw therehadbeen changes. His chestnut hair was streaked with silver. His cheeks sagged slightly, and his forehead had expanded. But he was still tall, still muscular, still gorgeous. Mr. Peterson stared back at her, and Kate wondered if he was cataloguingherdifferences, her longer hair, her threaded brows, her general adultness…

“Dad?” Deidre said. “What’s going on?”

Safe in the knowledge her former bully didn’t recognise her, Kate checked Deidre out too. She’d changed, but not much. The pink hair softened her feline bone structure, and her dark blue eyes had lost the mean squint that had once turned Kate’s knees to jelly. But she was still unmistakably the girl who’d made her life hell. And she was here, in Rapunzel’s driveway.

Dede, Kate thought.And Rapunzel said her dad was driving her up from the coast in his van. I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I realise? Check her out on Instagram like Casey?

Mr. Peterson’s face cracked into a familiar, if more lined, smile. “It’s great to see you, Katie. How the hell are you?”

“Good!” she repeated, feeling like a broken record. Above her an Indian Myna bird squawked happily. Stupid, lucky pest bird...

“Mac?” Rapunzel’s mouth was a thin white line. “How do you know Dede’s dad?”

Kate flinched. She couldn’t say. Her panic point was already too high; she was already doing too much. So instead of being honest or running away screaming, she clasped her hands in front of her, flashing her best friend a big dopey smile. “Mr. Peterson used to drive my school bus.”

“What?” The question came from Deidre, not Rapunzel.

Kate turned and beamed at her. “Yeah, it’s me. Kate McGrath. From Colac Secondary.”

Deidre dropped her phone on the concrete. For a second it lay there, then she dove, swearing, to retrieve it. Mr. Peterson stooped to help her and cracked his head on the front of the van. Rapunzel punched Kate in the arm, something Kate was sure she hadn’t intended to do but hurt nevertheless.

“What the hell’s happening?” Rapunzel hissed.

“I’ll tell you later.” Kate moved toward Mr. Peterson, who was hunched over, his hand pressed to his newly bashed forehead “Are you okay? Do you want me to get you an ice pack?”

“Nah, it’ll be right.” Mr. Peterson beamed up at her, his hand shielding his face like the Phantom’s mask. “Do you live here? Are you going to be Dede’s housemate?”

Kate was saved from having to answer ‘no, and I’d rather eat lice’ by Deidre’s frustrated moan.

She held up her phone. “The screen’s blank. I think it’s broken.”

Rapunzel bounded to her side like a butler on crack. “What should we do? Can we try and fix it? Should we put it in a bag of rice? No that’s for dropping it in the toilet. I can call someone? My cousin works in IT, she might know what to do.”

Deidre blinked at her. “Um, it’s okay. Thanks.”

“Sure.” Rapunzel stared at her, eyes burning like car tyres. “Anything you want.”

Kate gritted her teeth.Oh man, I thought I was bad at flirting.

Rapunzel must have sensed she was making somewhat of a dick of herself because she turned to Mr. Peterson. “How was the drive?”

“Not bad at all,” he said with the small-town easiness that made him the most popular dad at Kate’s school. “I’m Kane, by the way. Nice to meet you…?”

“Lindsay.”

Kate’s jaw unhinged. Rapunzel never introduced herself as anything other than Rapunzel. Most people were under the impression that was her actual name. Forget bizarre, this morning was getting flat-out insane.

Rapunzel and Mr. Peterson shook hands, then he flashed his daughter a sympathetic smile. “How’s your phone? Back on?”

Deidre shook her head, mashing buttons. Her pink hair was hanging in front of her face, hiding her from view. Was she embarrassed? Annoyed? Mad at Rapunzel’s overly intense vibe?

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