Nils turned to me. “Look, ignore what people say about your dad. All this stuff about how everyone has to believe women or girls or whatever? Take it from me: don’t.”

“Until there’s proof,” said Rigmor. She put Princess Leia back on the shelf, next to the box containing Jabba the Hutt. Then she changed her mind and put Leia next to Skywalker.

So that’s it. I still can’t believe someone is on my side here. Or my dad’s side, I guess.

Maybe I’ll send you a game invite soon. You could try out Villainous with me and Dave and Rigmor. Not Macii. I’m never playing with her again.

Okay, so that’s definitely all that happened today.

Take care,

Rodney

13

Hey, Lar,

I thought I’d get to spend homeroom writing to you about how boring last weekend was, but then today happened, and it was the opposite of boring. It was also the opposite of good.

You probably saw some of this, but I thought you might like to hear about it from me.

This morning, Monday, my mom dropped my sister at the high school. No one at her school knew about our dad, so I felt a bit jealous.

Then we drove the two blocks to my school. I was pretty nervous but at least I’d be able to count on Rigmor to be friendly.

We pulled into the drop-off area and I got out of the car. Before I knew what was happening, a bunch of people came rushing over and surrounded me, taking photos and trying to look in the car so they could take my mom’s picture and ask her questions. I didn’t know what to do, and when I looked at my mom, I could tell she didn’t know what to do either. That was rough. She looked like a kid. I wanted to get back in the car, but maybe the reason they were here was because they found out about me and didn’t know about my mom yet, so I just pretended the photographers and the grown-ups yelling questions at me weren’t there. I tried to be like one of those people you see on TV when they go into court and ignore all the reporters who are trying to ask them questions.

I tried to walk into the school and all around me people were yelling: Rodney. Rodney? Rodney! How does it feel, Rodney? Tell us about your dad, Rodney.

A lady with shiny black hair and a lot of makeup got so close to me that I could smell her perfume and her breath that reeked like coffee and mints. “Rodney? It’s Rodney, right?” she said in an English accent. She started following me and so did a guy with a big video camera. I thought they were going to come right in the school with me.

“Do you have anything to say, Rodney?”