Turning eighteen is supposed to be some big damn thing.
You might not feel any different, you might make the same stupid mistakes, but now you have to take responsibility for your mistakes because that's what an adult does.
They take responsibility.
For most people though, the day you turn eighteen doesn't actually turn out to be that big of a deal. You might drink, you might party, but for the most part it ends without anything changing your life.
Triss wished that she'd had a normal fucking eighteenth.
Instead, after having a party with some of her friends where they'd had some fun teasing games, she played around with some blowup dongs and condoms whilst everyone laughed at her, she was now in tears.
She wasn't crying because of the party, that had been fun.
She was crying, because of her mother.
After everyone had headed home, her mum had pulled her aside and told her that for the last ten years of her life, she'd been lying to her. That she didn't mean for it to get out of hand, but didn't know how to tell her.
The massive sequence of expletives that had left Triss' mouth and been directed at her mother had definitely been adult-like. Maybe not the tantrum itself, but Triss thought she should get a pass on that.
It wasn't everyday that someone came back from the dead.
"Ten fucking years." Triss muttered angrily, lying on her back with her feet against the door as she stared sightlessly at the ceiling and cried.
Ten years ago, her mum had told her that her dad was dead. That he died in a freak accident at work, when she was even younger, and that was the reason he wasn't around and she didn't talk about him.
Triss could only vaguely remember him.
Shadows of someone tall, who used to hold out their hands, and she'd grab on, and walk right on up their legs before falling into a cuddle.
On the other hand, Triss couldn't remember the last time her mother had given her a hug.
Not entirely true.
Right after to confessing to have made up a bullshit story, and lying to her for a decade, her mum had tried to hug her to say sorry. To apologise for making Triss think her dad was dead and fucking buried.
Her mum didn't know if he was dead.
Didn't know where he lived, just that she'd fallen out of love with him. Instead of going through with a divorce and maybe having to share Triss, the woman had packed up her things in the middle of the night and disappeared.
Which really only left Triss with a name, and a ten-year out-of-date address in another city.
Screw it.
If this is what adulting had to be, then Triss was going to make her own decisions, even if they were bad ones.
She rolled over onto her stomach, and pulled out her phone. She pulled up the public transport site and checked the timetables. She could catch a train early tomorrow, and be back at that old address by lunch time.
It was a hell of a long shot, but it was the only place to start that she could find.
She'd tried searching her dad's name on social media, and got absolutely nowhere. It was as if he'd never had an account, which he might actually not have.
Triss knew her dad had been a techy of some sort. Some of her geek friends were weirded out by the privacy on some platforms and refused to get on board.
She didn't even have a clue what he looked like.
Triss took after her mother.
She had long blonde hair down to her waist, that was kind of curled but not exactly curly. The kind of look that most girls her age would spend an hour making with a straightening iron, but just happened naturally for her.
Bright blue eyes, just like her mother's. Eyes that she could blink prettily, and people would believe whatever shit fell out of her mouth. Just like she'd believed when her mother told her that he was gone.
She was relatively short, too.
That she'd always resented and blamed her mother for. It wasn't fun having guys always asking if she needed their help to reach a shelf... And actually needing their help.
Triss figured that her dad was probably a blonde, too. That seemed to be how genetics worked. She couldn't be sure, but it was something she put in the probably pile.
She'd asked to see pictures of her dad for fucking years, and her mum had always said that she'd lost them. That she'd put them away somewhere for safe keeping.
When she'd asked, after the fucking lies came out, it turned out her mother had actually burned them.
Which was when Triss had stormed off, unable to talk to her, anymore. She just couldn't do it.
She wasn't sure if she was running away from home, tomorrow. She might come back. She might not. All she wanted for tomorrow was to find some tangible proof that her dad existed.
Worst birthday, ever.
Triss dropped her head onto the ground, and found herself crying again.
---
Sitting on a train filled with people in suits, all of them as freezing as she was, and all of them cradling a coffee like she was, Triss finally took a moment to realise how insane she was being.
She was going to another city, to try and meet a strange guy, in a place she could never remember going, before. All by herself.
She should have arranged for one of her friends to go with her, especially one of the jocks. That would have been the intelligent thing to do, the adult thing to do.
She sipped at the boiling liquid of her coffee, tasting the burned grinds that were somehow part of the brew despite it being one of the first of the day, and made a face.
She was fine.
She could do this, because she was an adult, now. Nobody could tell her what to do, and nobody would try and tell her what to do. She was just going on an adventure.
Triss pulled out her phone, and text one of her friends. Letting her know where she was going, and asking them to call her if she didn't let them know she was home at the end of the day.
The phone rang.
"Hey, Kirstie." She picked it up.
Her friends voice was groggy, "Why are you taking off? This early in the morning. And why should I care?"
"Um... So it's a long story... But... I might be about to meet a guy." Triss swallowed.
Kirstie sounded anything but impressed. "The fuck, Triss! Please tell me that you're not trying to lose your virginity to some dating app hookup."
"What? No!" She protested, and cringed as people started to look her way. "Look, I'm on the train. People are staring. It... It's a long story, but it isn't like that. Not a romance, and not a date."
"Just tell me." The girl said gruffly.
Triss blinked back tears, "Mum lied. Dad... Dad's alive. Maybe. I've got his old address, and nothing else. So..."
"So you ran off to see if you could find him, before realising you were running off to a total stranger's house." Kirstie said tiredly, "Wow. Also, your mum is a total bitch. Can I hate her, now?"
"Yes." Triss said angrily, "I... He probably won't still live there. And I don't think I'll find him. But..."
"Gotta try." Kirstie sighed, "Wish you'd told me, earlier. Would have come with you. If you don't find him this time, let me in on the hunt. What's his name?"
Triss smiled sadly, "Don't bother looking him up online. You won't find him. Mateo. She kept his last name."
"Wow. I hate that name." Kirstie laughed, "I'd stick to calling him Daddy, if I were you. Where'd he live?"
Triss sniffled, "Torquay. Thanks, Kirz. I... I'm sorry."
"You're trying to find your dad. Your mum was a bitch, but at least she finally told you." Her friend replied, "Just... Text me. A whole bunch. I'm going to be worried. 'Kay? Send me the actual address, too."
"Yeah." She swallowed, "My bad. Um... I should go. Before people do more than glare at me."
"See ya, babe." Kirstie hung up.
Triss bit the edge of her phone for a moment afterwards. What if she got there, and she thought the guy was her dad, but he wasn't. And what if he tried to use that?
She could handle a guy.
She'd been fending them off for years, keeping herself for herself. Her first time wasn't going to be some handsy guy, it was going to be someone she cared about.
Whilst Triss might be short, and everyone might assume she was weak because she had a skinny little waist, she was about as far from defenceless as she could be.
She might be crying and upset over her dad, but that didn't make her usually a mess, either.
Triss had even proved it, just last year. Some ass had snatched her purse at a footy game, and she'd run him down. Sprinted after him for a full three city blocks until he was winded, and she wasn't.
After which she crash tackled him, took back her bag, and made sure he didn't go anywhere until the cops arrived to deal with the dick.
That story had even made the paper, though it thankfully hadn't gone viral.
The paper had nicknamed her Tenacious Triss. Which had somewhat stuck around when they had come back to doing a feel-good piece on one of the local charity runs.
Triss always ran in them. She never felt as free as she did when she was running. She preferred running through the forest to the urban jungle, but she ran almost a dozen marathons a year.
She'd be fine, whatever she found where she was going.
Triss sipped at her coffee again, and relaxed into the chair. Leaning into the uncomfortable seat and taking a deep breath.
She should be able to try and enjoy herself, if she didn't find him. Torquay had an awesome movie theatre, but more than that, it had a great beach and half-decent surf.
She'd always wanted to rent out one of those beach-side cabins for a long weekend. Fall asleep listening to the sea, wake up to go running along the shoreline. She might see if she could afford to do that, after.
Her dad's old place wasn't that far from the shore. The map on her phone said it was about a five minute walk. Ten minutes from the indie movie place she'd been to a couple times, too.
