xiv. nevada throws a bowl at their father.

The car pulled onto a bumpy dirt road. The car jostled with Nevada in the driver's seat. Marisol avoided hitting her head against the window. Marisol wanted to ask if Nevada's parents lived in the middle of nowhere, but from a quick look around, she could tell that they did. There were no other cars in sight, nor were there buildings. The narrow road was surrounded by trees that the car just barely avoided hitting. They had been driving down the dirt road for 10 minutes before she saw a man-made structure.

The house was a modern log cabin. Huge windows lined the house, but the rustic look of wood stacked together remained. A porch stretched around the area, and the house was elevated off the uneven ground. Marisol hopped out of the car as it rolled to a stop. The first thing that hit her ears was the sound of rushing water. She narrowed her eyes, looking past the cabin. A large waterfall was a distance away. She hadn't ever seen one in person. She didn't have time to marvel though. Nevada nagged her to get her stuff from the trunk and she obeyed.

Together, they approached the door, lugging their belongings over the wooden steps. Before Nevada could open the door, it swung open, nearly hitting them in the face. The three of them were met by the two smiling faces of Nevada's parents. Marisol stared. A woman and a man, both who looked to be in their 60s stood in the doorway. The man had greying hair and was wearing a colorful hawaiian shirt, quite the contrast from the forest scenery around them. The woman had long, brown hair that tumbled down her back. She wore a long, floral dress and round, wire framed glasses. Marisol was aware that one of Nevada's parents was a punk band singer, but as she stared at the people in front of her, she couldn't tell.

Colette gasped behind her. "Oh my god, you're the lead singer of When Goblins Fly!"

The woman, Nevada's mother, smiled. "That would be me!"

"Mom, let us inside," Nevada said.

"Oh, sorry! Come in." Nevada's mom moved out of the doorway, allowing everybody to come inside. Marisol could hear the door shut behind her.

Colette continued to stare at Nevada's mother. "Wow, I hardly recognize you. I had a punk phase when I was younger but you-" Colette stopped mid-sentence, pursing her lips to choose her words.

The old woman laughed. "I transitioned."

That's when it clicked in Marisol's head. She didn't recognize Nevada's mother because she had been expecting the punk parent to be a man. However, the woman Colette chatted with was undeniably the heartthrob of the 80's punk community.

"You look gorgeous," Colette said, "What should I call you both?"

"I am Julia," Nevada's mom said, "and my husband is Joel. But you call us Mr. and Mrs. Schultz."

Marisol piped up. "Thank you for having us. I'm not sure if Nevada completely explained why we're here, but..."

"We know," Mr. Schultz said, "Now, Nevada will show you to the guest bedroom. We can talk about that later."

Nevada gestured for Colette and Marisol to follow them. Together, they all walked up the stairs. Nevada opened a door in a hallway and ushered Colette and Marisol in. The room had a queen sized bed and a dresser. In the corners were various instruments.

"Sorry, this kind of doubles as a band room. It has good acoustics." Nevada looked at the instruments.

"It's fine." Marisol set her camera bag and suitcase on the bed. "Your parents, they're chill with magic?"

"Of course," Nevada said, "I wouldn't bring Colette here otherwise."

Colette sat on the bed. It looked like she was still processing something. She looked at Nevada. "I can't believe your mother was the lead singer for When Goblins Fly! You have the coolest mom ever."

Nevada smiled. "I know, right?" They grabbed hold of their suitcase. "I'm going to bring my stuff to my room. Come downstairs when you're ready." They walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

Marisol looked at Colette. "I didn't know you were a punk fan."

Colette shrugged. "Something about rebellion and liberation in a music genre appealed to me."

"Oh." Marisol supposed she should have guessed that. "It looks like we're going to spend our time in a pretty cool place."

"A log cabin in the woods near a waterfall with some of the coolest parents to exist? I couldn't think of a better place to hide from the police."

Together they unpacked, filling the empty dressers with their clothes and putting their suitcases where they wouldn't trip over them. After that, the two of them walked downstairs.

They entered the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Schultz were sitting on a couch while Nevada was perched on a recliner. Marisol reluctantly settled on the loveseat, Colette sitting next to her. Both of the parents smiled at them.

"So, I thought you guys would get here earlier, in the wee hours of the morning," Mr Scultz said.

Nevada looked at their dad. "Marisol and I got too tired to drive. We ended up pulling off the highway and sleeping at a reststop."

"Oh, I see," he said. He stood up, glancing at a clock that hung above a fireplace. "Well, it's about lunchtime. How about I make you guys something? Does soup sound good?"

"Yes Mr. Schultz, thank you," said Colette. Mr. Schultz smiled and walked into the kitchen. Mrs. Schultz smiled at her husband.

"So, we saw your video," Mrs. Schultz said, smiling, "You girls are very brave."

Marisol pursed her lips. Quite frankly, she had never thought of herself as brave when she went in. She only approached the scene because of Colette. Otherwise, she probably would have ran. She stayed quiet. Colette seemed to take this queue and did the talking.

"I saved the girl, that's what matters," Colette said. Her voice was sincere, but there was still no smile on her face. Mrs. Schultz shook her head.

"Oh, hun. I know what it's like to lose a job for fear of being exposed." Mrs. Schultz gestured over to a picture frame. In it was a poster for When Goblins Fly. Mrs. Schultz was front and center, pre transition. "When I learned that I was a woman, I tried to bury it. I loved my career, and I loved my band, but it was the 80's. It took me a while to realize I'd be happier living life fully as myself, even if I didn't perform anymore."

Colette frowned. "But you had to give up your career. You were a punk legend."

"I still make music," Mrs. Schultz said, "It's just no longer public. Besides, I'm too old to be in the punk scene anymore."

Marisol looked at Mrs. Schultz's soft, floral dress. "You don't look like the punk type anymore. I expected more leather and studs when I got here."

The old woman laughed. "I find that these dresses are a lot more comfortable than tight leather pants."

Colette grinned, "You and your husband are amazing people. How did you meet him?"

Nevada groaned. "Here we go."

Mrs. Schultz sat up in her seat. "It was 1993, and I was in a record shop. I had just started to transition then. In fact, it was the first time I wore a dress in public. I tried to keep a low profile to avoid heckling from all of the ignorant people around when Joel approached me."

The woman laughed. "I was so scared, I thought he was going to bother me or even worse, recognize me. But instead, he called me beautiful! I fell a little bit in love with him and his hawaiian shirts right there."

Colette listened intently. Marisol listened politely. Nevada just groaned and made gagging noises.

"We went on a few dates and took off from there," Mrs. Schultz said, "And a little while later, we moved into an apartment together."

"When did you move here?" Marisol asked.

"We moved here after we adopted Nevada, so that we could have a peaceful family life."

Nevada just covered their face, clearly embarrassed by their mom's stories.

Mr. Schultz walked out, holding a tray with several bowls of steaming soup. He gently placed a bowl in front of each of them on the coffee table. When he got to Nevada, the two of them shared a long glance. Mr. Schultz looked disapproving. Nevada looked defiant. Marisol wondered if they were telepathically speaking. In a blur of motion, Nevada snatched their bowl of soup off of the tray and hurled it across the room.

Marisol winced, ready for the ceramic bowl to shatter and spill its contents everywhere. Instead, it froze midair, the soup still in the basin. Marisol looked at Colette, who only shook her head, eyes wide. It was then that Marisol noticed Mr. Schultz's hand reaching out towards the bowl and glowing.

"Nevada, why would you do that?" he asked, looking at his child.

Nevada shrugged. "You were going to have to reveal yourself to them eventually, Dad."