“Well…” She bites her lip, grabbing my wrist and laying it on the table in front of us. “My teacher was talking today about how Father’s Day is coming up, and everyone was making little gifts for their dads…” She pulls something out of her bag, hesitantly slipping it onto my wrist. “I thought…Well, I thought maybe this nickname could work.” She looks up at me with uncertainty written in her eyes. I glance down at the bracelet, a pattern of blue beads and little orange flowers—a mixture of mine and Dahlia’s favorite colors. In the middle of my wrist are three small letters: D-A-D.
