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Aria knew this was going to happen. She had begged her dad not to come pick up their report cards this semester. She was in eighth grade now, practically an adult. She could’ve handled it herself! She even practiced what she’d say to her and Kai's homeroom teachers (“So sorry, my parents had a last-minute emergency”), but no. Of course not. Because her dad had to roll up in his annoyingly sleek car, step out like he was about to go into a film set, and proceed to direct her personal nightmare.
The moment he walked toward the school in his black turtleneck, long coat, and rimless glasses, the vibe shifted. The whispers started immediately.
“Oh my god, is that Aria and Kai’s dad?”
“I hear he's, like, a big time CEO or something..."
“Is he single?!”
Aria groaned and sank low in her chair. She didn’t even want to look outside anymore. What was the point? She knew the PTA parents—many of whom are her friends’ moms—would suddenly discover a burning passion for “volunteering” whenever her dad was due to show up at school events. One even brought cupcakes “just because” and spent ten minutes asking about his skincare routine the last time the school held a family event. Which was rude, considering it was actually her mom’s. His wife!
Now he was again, striding through the school halls like he wasn’t single-handedly activating the thirst radar of every mom (and some dads) within five miles.
Kai, of course, thought it was the best day ever. But that’s because he’s only nine and stupid.
“Did you see Mr. Carter smile at Dad? He called him sir!” A starry-eyed Kai whispered as their dad shook hands with the principal like he owned the place. “He’s like a K-drama character. The mysterious CEO with a tragic past.”
“Shut up, Kai.” Aria hissed, dragging him down the back hallway to avoid the growing crowd of “casually loitering” moms and their very obvious phone cameras. “This is a disaster. I told him not to show up. I begged him!”
Kai just shrugged, completely unbothered. “He’s literally picking up our report cards. It’s not like he walked in shirtless or something.”
“That’s not helping,” Aria snapped, cheeks flaming. “I’m never showing my face again.”
Kai grinned. “He looks like he’s about to save the world and make it to our soccer game on time.”
Aria groaned louder. “Stop talking.”
Their dad, meanwhile, was busy being the human embodiment of cool dad energy, casually charming every school staff, saving her science teacher from tripping on spilled water, and picking up the report cards like he hadn’t just caused a minor school-wide heart attack.
By the time they got into the car, Aria had reached critical levels of secondhand embarrassment. She flung herself into the passenger seat and crossed her arms with a dramatic huff.
Sylus glanced at her. “Something wrong?”
“You know what you did.”
“I picked up your report card. And your science project. Which, by the way, smells like vinegar.”
“It’s a volcano. It’s supposed to.”
“Sure.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You wore perfume.”
“I always wear perfume.”
“You’re the worst.”
Kai was already in the backseat, unwrapping a lollipop he got from the front office. Probably because Sylus smiled at Mrs. Finch. “She said I was polite,” Kai said proudly. “And that I look just like Dad.”
Aria muttered, “It’s already starting.”
When they got home, their mom was at the kitchen counter, scrolling through her tablet. Sylus handed her the folders.
“All done.”
She peeked inside, flipping through the grades while he grabbed a bottle of water and the kids headed for the couch.
“Nice work, both of you! Kai, you crushed math. And Aria, your social studies teacher says you’ve got ‘excellent leadership qualities.’”
Aria dropped her bag and sighed. “Mom, please. Don’t ever let Dad go to school again.”
Lili looked up with a perfectly innocent smile. “Why not? I heard he’s now officially known as the Certified Silverfox.”
Sylus choked mid-sip. “I’m sorry. The what?”
Aria spun around, horrified. “Mom!”
“What?” Lili blinked, the picture of fake innocence. “You’re the one who came home ranting about it last semester.”
“Yeah, doesn’t mean you should say it out loud!”
Kai, squinting, asked, “What’s a silverfox?”
Sylus just stood there, grinning like this was the best day of his life. Lili, smug as ever, leaned over and kissed his cheek. “It means the parents think your dad is handsome and distinguished.”
“I didn’t even talk to them,” Sylus said, sipping his water again. “Just said hello.”
“Exactly,” Aria groaned. “That’s the problem.”
Lili turned back to her tablet, unfazed. “Well, I happen to think I’ve got the best-looking man in the PTA.”
Kai nodded solemnly. “I hope I turn into a silverfox too.”
Aria buried her head in a cushion. “I need a new family.”
But later that night, curled up on the couch while her parents bickered softly in the kitchen about who actually bought the almond milk, she found herself smiling. Even if her dad was embarrassing. And, according to the tragically misguided people of her school, stupidly attractive. Ew.