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Daniel loudly cries on the floor of a bathroom stall at his school. Wiping the unstopping tears and snot off of his face with the back of one of his hands while the other hugs his legs tightly to his chest.
He doesn't like crying like this. Feeling all sad and angry. His inability to stop only makes his head hurt.
“Daniel, come on. Just get out of there already!” His big brother, Sean, calls for him at the other side of the door.
“No! He promised!” Daniel’s voice feels heavy on his throat as he screams back. In all of his nine years, only a few times has he felt so betrayed.
There's a tired sigh. Then silence.
“Whatever, do what you want, I’m leaving.”
A few loud steps.
“You hear me? I’m leaving!”
“Fine!” replies the kid. He doesn't really want to be all alone, and Sean can't actually leave without him. Right?
A door opening, then closing. Silence again.
It lasts long. And Daniel feels a void on his stomach forming, a ping of panic as he realizes...
Sean actually left him.
He cries again, with more vigor now that there's no one else around to hear him.
How could he leave him? Wasn't he coming back? Was he never going to return? Daniel thinks he deserves it, after refusing to cooperate, maybe it was a good thing Sean left.
After a few minutes of trying to calm down and surging again, Daniel hears the door opening. He stops his crying in favor of listening closely.
Sean! He came back!. He thinks to himself, feeling relieved.
But it's not his brother, just a couple of kids laughing as they burst into the room.
Daniel doesn't want to be discovered like this. So he quickly gets up and sits on the toilet, lifting his legs in case they were smart enough to look down.
They seem to be older than him, he can tell because of their lower voices. Probably middle-schoolers.
Daniel knows he made the right choice as they immediately try to open his door. They seem in a rush.
“Augh! Out of order.” One says, “Quickly, this one!” exclaims the other as both of them enter a different stall, right next to Daniel.
Daniel listens to them giggling and trying to shush the sounds. It seems like they were hiding, but from who?
The door opened again, this time a few girls started screaming from there, unable to breach the barrier of the men's room. “We know you're in there, Elias!” They sound older as well.
“Hey! What about me?” Screamed one of the boys, gaining himself a smack on the head and a “Stupid” from Elias.
“Mrs. Dove says she's going to fail you both if you don't get out now, it's almost our turn.” Then the girls left, and after a moment of grumbling, the lads did too.
And Daniel was alone again.
Even without knowing who those people were, he grasped the context of what was happening. “Almost their turn,”. They've said.
Of what? You may ask. Of the freaking Mother's Day festival show.
Elias and the nameless kid were probably hiding because they're embarrassed to have to dance in front of a crowd full of moms. And Daniel couldn’t blame them. Sean said he was relieved he finally got free of those dumb things, as he called them, when he finally entered high school.
Daniel, on the other hand, liked activities like this. Preparing with his classmates, laughing when Noah couldn’t keep up with the rhythm, getting a free half-an-hour out of boring classes in order to move their bodies and memorize all the steps.
Daniel's problem with this particular festival is that he doesn’t have a mother to dance for.
Well, he has.
She’s just… not around.
But that isn't the reason Daniel's so upset right now. Not really. Just a little tiny part of it.
The real reason is that his dad, his best friend and idol, broke the promise he made to Daniel as soon as he heard the festival was coming.
“Don't worry, mijo! Yo seré tu mamá.” Meaning he would play the role of his mom for the entire day.
It was dumb, it was stupid. But it made Daniel giggle and await the date with great anticipation.
The thing is, he wasn't the only kid in school without a mom, either because they’ve passed away or simply because they weren’t around anymore. And it would've been downright cruel for the ones like him to be excluded from the rest because of that.
So the school had come up with what they proudly called “the perfect solution”.
Letting dads step in and take on the role, as long as they wore the official festival disguise: a long wig, ridiculously big latex gloves and a bright apron pulled straight from the storage closet every year. With those on, they were honorary moms for the day, free to join in every single activity without question.
It’s very stereotypical and not all were okay with it, some even complained heavily, but it didn’t change a thing in the end.
The activities are no small thing. The musical numbers are only the beginning. A grand, hour-and-a-half show that takes the whole morning, featuring every grade from the tiny kindergartners in paper-flower crowns to the too-cool eighth graders who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.
When the final round of applause echoes through the gym, the real festival begins. Guests walk towards the rows of food stalls filling the schoolyard with the smell of hot-dogs, nachos and pop-corn.
Tables along the walls are covered in art projects like paper crafts, portraits, and awkward poems, each one made by a student and dedicated to “Mom”.
While spread across the grounds are different games and contests like ring toss, tug-of-war, craft corners, and of course, the highlight for Daniel: the three-legged mom-and-kid race.
That damn race is the whole reason Daniel has been looking forward to the Mother's Day festival for weeks now. And since his dad promised to be his mom for the day, he was confident they would win, showing dumb Harry Thompson who ruled.
The plan was simple: first, Daniel’s grade would perform their number (which they did flawlessly, at least in his opinion) while Esteban and Sean watched from the crowd. Then, after the musical numbers were over, they’d hit the booths, eat snacks, and, most importantly, win that race.
But now that is never going to happen because right before Daniel’s group left the stage, Esteban’s phone rang.
He’d promised he would not work today, but the caller ID flashed one of his regular clients, someone who allegedly needed him at the garage immediately.
The worst part? Daniel didn’t even get a proper goodbye from his dad. Instead, Sean was left as the bearer of bad news, suddenly standing in front of him as Daniel got down the stage, looking awkward, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Uh… Dad had to go, enano.” Sean had said. “Something about a client and an emergency. I’m supposed to tell you he’s sorry.”
Daniel had stared at him, waiting for the part where Sean said “but he’ll be back before the race.” That part never came.
At first Daniel thought Sean was just messing with him, like he always did. But no, Esteban was really… gone.
His dad’s a mechanic. What kind of emergency is more important than winning a three-legged mom-and-kid race against Harry Thompson?
Daniel can’t phantom such a thing.
Hence to why he’s where he is right now, locked in the farthest bathroom stall he could find. His head hidden on his knees as he keeps himself sitting on the toilet, looking immensely depressed.
Now Sean was gone too.
He was truly alone.
No mom, no dad, no big brother.
Such a loser. Isn’t he?
His eyes are swollen, sniffling every now and then. He’s not crying anymore, but he’s still very sad. The buzz of distant laughter and music outside the bathroom only makes Daniel feel more cut off from the fun and he absolutely hates that.
A few people enter the bathroom and leave short after, no one seems to realize he’s there.
Then, without warning, the stall door rattles.
He freezes.
A shadow shifts beneath the door and something slides inside. Two hands grip the floor tiles, followed by a head covered in long, tangled black hair hanging over its face.
Daniel’s breath catches as he sees that.
“W-what the—!?”
The thing crawls forward just enough for him to see the hair sway like in one of those late-night horror movies Sean shouldn’t have let him watch. He backs up against the toilet tank, legs pressing tighter to his chest and his sneaker slips right into the toilet water with a cold splash.
He starts screaming and then a loud, ugly laugh erupts from the “monster”, and the hair gets tossed back to reveal Sean’s grinning face.
“Oh my god, your face!” Sean wheezes, practically doubling over. “I wish I’d filmed that. The Ring, but make it elementary school bathroom edition.”
Daniel angrily glares at him, his wet shoe dripping on the floor. “That’s not funny!” he snaps, cheeks red not from fear anymore, but from embarrassment. He couldn’t believe how he wished his moron of a brother to come back just moments ago.
Sean tries to catch his breath. “Come on! It's a little funny. Okay, a lotta funny.” He sits back on his heels, still chuckling, then gestures to the crooked wig now sitting on his head.
“But hey,” Sean says, tone softening. “Since dad got called away, I’m your mom now.”
Daniel blinks. “...What?”
“Please don’t make me say it again.” Sean stood up fully inside the stall and offered a hand to help Daniel to his feet as well. Sean snorts quietly at the small “Ew” that slips from Daniel when he realizes his sock is soaked inside his shoe.
It is then when Daniel studies his brother as they finally exit the small place. Long wig over his head, pink apron tied around his neck and waist. The finishing touch are the latex gloves resting on the bathroom counter top, and Sean starts to put them on.
“Wait, really?” Daniel wants to point out that Sean looks ridiculous like this, but this it's so good to be true and he doesn't want to stretch his luck.
“Yes, Daniel. So quit your whining and get ready, we have a race to win.”
They don't end up winning the race. But neither did Harry, so Daniel is pleased and still counts it as a win.
The kid tells Lyla all about how close they were, how they would've totally won if only Sean waited for him instead of sprinting at the last second, causing them to trip and fall. Lyla, of course, takes Daniel’s side which only makes Sean extra grumpy and extra… Sean-y.
Lyla doesn't ride the bus with them afterwards, since her family’s going out to a restaurant to celebrate.
The bus feels quieter without her. Daniel knows Mother’s Day is supposed to be important, but for him, it's just... another Sunday with more balloons. It doesn't feel particularly special.
He doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring out the window until Sean nudges him.
“You’re awfully calm for someone who just had the best race partner in history.” Sean says as he elbows him.
Daniel shrugs. “It was cool.”
“That’s it? Just cool? I wore a wig that made me look like a cheap Samara Morgan for you, dude.”
Daniel smirks a little at that, but it fades quickly. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt before blurting, “Hey, Sean… can I ask you something?”
Sean narrows his eyes. “Depends. Is it about Lyla? Because, bro, she’s way too ol—”
Daniel shakes his head and places a hand on Sean's thigh, cutting him off. “No. It’s about… It's about mom.”
Sean’s posture shifts, just a little. His gaze slides away. Karen, he wants to correct his little brother, but he doesn't.
Sean never understood how Daniel could call her with such familiarity when she never deserved it.
“Daniel…” His voice is a warning already.
“I just don’t get it,” Daniel starts, pushing past Sean’s tone. “You had her for eight years. You remember her. I don’t. Not really. It’s… unfair.”
“Trust me,” Sean says, eyes fixed on the scenery past the window, above Daniel's head. “You’re not missing anything.”
“How do you know? Maybe she—”
“She didn’t care, Daniel.” Sean’s voice is sharper that he intended, making Daniel flinch. “Karen walked out. That’s all you need to know.”
Daniel’s mouth opens, but the words get stuck somewhere between his chest and his throat.
Sean exhales hard through his nose and runs a hand through own now wig-less short hair.
“Look, just… stop wasting time thinking about her, okay? It's better that way.”
Daniel turns back to the window, watching the rows of houses roll past. He doesn’t answer right away. Because even if Sean’s done talking about it, that itch… the need to know who she is, only digs in deeper.
“You know… Dad said he'll act like mom all day today. And he left… so maybe he didn't break his promise after all.” It's the last thing Daniel says and the bus feels heavier for the rest of the ride.
Sean drops his backpack by the couch with a heavy thud and immediately heads for the kitchen. Daniel trails after him, still looking like a kicked puppy.
Sean can't stand this.
He needs his bright, happy and annoying little brother back, quick.
“You hungry?” Sean asks, pulling open the fridge.
Daniel just shrugs.
“Cool. Shrugging means ‘yes’ now. Got it.” The older grabs some leftover pasta and plops it onto a plate. Tossing it into the microwave, then looks back at Daniel. “Also means you’re getting soda. Because guess what? Mom says you can.” As if anyone ever said they couldn't.
Daniel’s eyes flicker just a bit at that, but he doesn’t say a thing.
The microwave beeps. Sean slides the plate across the counter like he’s serving royalty. “Your highness. Today’s special: gourmet Spaghetti a la Diaz, reheated to perfection, only for you.” Then he dramatically passes over a fork, tilting his body slightly to follow his sudden bit.
Daniel sits, staring at the plate for a second before taking the fork and having a bite. It’s too hot, and he hisses around the tomato sauce, but Sean pretends not to notice.
“Okay,” Sean says, leaning against the counter. “You’re still doing the sad, slumpy pre-teen thing. That’s my bit, Daniel. Leave the depressing act of puberty to me.”
A small, unwilling smile tugs at Daniel’s mouth. “Shut up.”
“Progress,” Sean points at Daniel like a proud scientist. “We have the beginnings of a grin. Soon you’ll be back to annoying me at full capacity.”
They eat in companionable silence for a minute. Then Sean claps his hands once. “Alright. Mom duty calls. What do moms do? Uh…”
“You don't have to do this.” Daniel says, but Sean acts like he didn't hear him at all.
The taller squints dramatically, as if consulting some invisible handbook as he hums. “Oh, right. Moms… make their kids do homework.”
Daniel groans. “Ugh, no way.”
“Fine, fine. Then, uh… moms take their kids shopping.”
“Just stop—”
“We could get ice cream. Or…”
“Sean.”
Sean snaps his fingers. “Build a fort. Boom. Instant mom-kid bonding.”
“Moms don't build forts.” Daniel’s voice is already less sulky, Sean knew him too well, the idea of fort building too tempting to resist.
“Who says?” He walks around the kitchen counter and softly punches Daniel's shoulder before going to grab a pile of couch cushions. “We’re going full blanket-architect mode. You’re on roof duty. Mom’s orders.”
Sean's the worst mom ever, Daniel thinks.
But the coolest big brother.
Ever.