Chapter 4, Part 1

Dad, Pizza, and Popcorn 

Diana 

Still the same evening...

The kitchen smelled of lavender and catastrophe.

Mom had gone off to save another client's destiny, ginger Zodiac was finishing the food in his bowl, and I sat at the table in front of a huge cup of tea, trying not to burst into tears.

First Demond with his filthy little jokes, then a bruise on my butt, and now some stupid romantic show about finding love. Seriously?! Who even believes in shows like that? For the first time, I regretted not having a boyfriend or a personal life. Then I never would have gotten stuck in this whole dating mess, with the ridiculous amulet, and no idea how to get out of it.

Fine. I'll put the burned sock around my neck and walk around like that! Let them think I'm not on speaking terms with common sense and refuse to cast me on the show. Why, why did everyone else get normal moms, while I got a psychic?! And one with such a delicate soul that it was my daughterly duty to protect her?

Zodiac finished eating, licked his nose, and lifted a gaze full of wisdom and judgment to me.

"Don't look at me like that," I grumbled at the cat. "You'd freak out too if someone signed you up for a cat casting call and forgot to ask! Just imagine: you're surrounded by brutish tomcats, and there you are, a ginger doughnut in a glitter collar, humiliating yourself on camera. Be grateful nobody sees you in one!"

Footsteps sounded, and Stan walked into the kitchen. Catching my eye, my brother raised his brows sympathetically and scratched the back of his head.

"You heard, huh?" I asked in a devastated voice.

"Yeah. I live in this apartment. You can hear everything here, even when the spirits are talking."

"Very funny."

Stan shrugged.

"Well, it definitely happened a couple of times. With Grandma, remember? When she helped us find the documents for the summer house. Back then I thought I'd need a diaper, I was so scared I nearly shi... freaked myself out."

"You were eight. You can't remember that."

"Nine, and I was hiding behind the curtain because I was curious. Now nothing in this life can surprise me. Di..." My brother sat down at the table and pushed a jar of jam toward me. "What if it still gets canceled? Nobody takes psychics seriously anyway. And who even watches those stupid podcasts?"

I dropped my head into my hands, then lifted it and pushed my phone toward him.

"Eighty thousand views in an hour, Stan, and nothing has even started yet. I don't have a single chance to wriggle out of this! I just looked up that celebrity host online. Trust me, if sharks in human form exist, he is the toothiest one. They didn't invite Astralia for no reason. They need a must-watch event with scandals and exposés, and now this Valentine won't miss his chance to discredit Mom in front of everyone. I can feel it!"

Just then, the front door lock clicked, and Dad's voice rang out from the hallway:

"Family, I'm home! Can someone take the pizza from me? Today I ended up with pineapple, but it's huge! And I won a bucket of popcorn at the pizza place. Can you believe it? Pulled the lucky coupon by accident. Is everything normal at home? Mom hasn't lit a candle for anyone's good luck, has she?"

I opened my mouth, but Stan jumped up from his chair and held out a hand:

"Easy, Di! Chalk it up to sixth sense and forget it!"

"Oh, thanks!" I hissed. "Popcorn was the one thing this story was missing!"

But my brother had already bolted into the hall for the pizza, Zodiac with him.

I got up from the table, took out a plate, and heated dinner for Dad in the microwave. But one minute was not enough for my mood to come back, and Dad noticed, of course, the second he walked into the kitchen.

"I knew it!" he breathed in frustration. "The peaceful Catkin household is on the brink of crisis again! What happened this time? Diana, my sweet girl, why the sour face?"

Dad worked as a taxi driver. He was down-to-earth, practical, and, unlike Mom, always remembered which dates the utility bills came due, when it was time to replace the kitchen frying pan, and what day his Natasha had a manicure appointment. He was the family's rock, so naturally I tattled on Mom at once:

"Dad," I sobbed loudly, releasing the spring of all my outrage over what had happened. "Can you imagine, Mom just went on a podcast for a popular TV channel and accidentally signed me up for a romantic reality show about finding love! The sneaky host provoked her, and now, so Astralia doesn't get laughed at by the whole country, I have to become a participant in some stupid project where strangers get sent on dates! Seven of them! And I can't stand dates. I always run away from them! And now I don't know what to do!"

"Right," Dad exhaled, wiping his forehead. "Thank God everyone's alive. Do we have any kefir?" he asked in his everyday voice. "Cold?"

We had kefir. I went to the fridge, took out the carton, and poured him a cup.

"Here!"

Dad took it, drank the whole thing in one gulp, and sat down at the table.

"Now, Diana, explain everything point by point," he asked. "What has our mom cooked up this time?"

I filled my lungs with air and tried not to cry. I told him everything in detail from the beginning and finished:

"...And now I have to take part in Love at First Valentine, pretend to be a lonely loser, and go on a date with a guy who couldn't care less about me because he'll be there for publicity! Horrible, right?! And all because Mom had to flex on air!"

Dad thought it over and nodded. Calmly. Too calmly.

"I see. And what do you want?"

"I don't know." I spread my hands. "For it to disappear! For nobody to invite me anywhere! For me to have a normal evening with a book and Zodiac tucked against my side! For me to..."

"Dad, nothing terrible happened, don't worry," Stan cut in, setting the pizza box on the table. "Ma just decided to arrange our Diana's love life in her signature 'oops, Mercury wanted it that way' style. Is this the first time or something? A little adventure won't hurt her. How long can she do nothing but study? She even bought knitting needles and is making a hat like an old lady. I saw it myself."

"A hat?" Dad blinked in surprise.

"Yeah, a red one," Stan confirmed. "After that, if I were you and Ma, and I wanted grandkids someday, I'd be worried too."

I opened my mouth, turning to my brother.

"Are you kidding me, kid?"

Stan managed to open the pizza, but just in case, he took one step back, shaking his head guiltily.

"Actually, no. Diana, you haven't even gone to the movies once since you split up with Boring Guy. And you threw the lucky sock in the trash. Maybe... maybe I don't like your mood!"

"You little traitor!" I gasped, yanked the kitchen towel off the chair, and launched it at my brother. But he caught it easily with his long arm. "Home front spy! Are you even helping me?! And the hat is fashionable, just so you know! I want to knit, so I knit! And Boring Guy is not a loser. He's just... really into billiards! And I wasn't dating him, as if! We just went to the movies and, um... stayed friends!"

"And that jock, the fitness narcissist? Friends with him too?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!"