Author's Note: Sadly, this is the last chapter of this story, everyone. Thank you so much to kayladchristine for the request because I had a blast writing it, and I'm going to miss it!

It's the last first day of school.

There will be first days of college semesters and whatnot, but those aren't quite the same. It's the last first day of coming down the stairs to Papa's warm breakfast and the smell of Dad's favorite tea. The last first day of hugs and packing lunches and sitting together at the table, and talking about the little, everyday things in life.

After this year, breakfasts will be spent with classmates in the cafeteria, or eaten alone in a dorm room. Dad and Papa won't be there for early morning discussions unless it's over the phone, and there'll be a myriad of extra responsibilities for the girls to keep in mind. It'll be a different life.

"How does it feel to be seniors?" Dad asks as he picks up his teacup.

"Stop, don't remind me!" Amelia whines, hating the constricting feeling in her chest. She feels old. She knows she's only seventeen and that's not even close to being old, but still, it feels like those seventeen years have zipped on by without her permission. She's just beginning to experience what it's like to be running against time. "I don't want to be a senior!"

Papa hands her a plate of waffles and frowns. "Why not?"

"Because that means I have to start thinking about college and what I want to do for the rest of my life, and I'm not ready for any of that!"

"You don't have to know what you want to do yet," Dad tries to soothe her, and his lips are curled into a dry smirk at how melodramatic she's being. "I had absolutely no idea what I was going to study when I was seventeen."

Madeline takes a plate of waffles, dumps what seems like a truckload of maple-syrup onto them, and invites herself into the conversation. "When did you know you wanted to go to med school, Dad?"

Dad thinks about it for a moment. "I did it on a whim. I wasn't completely convinced it was what I wanted to do, but once I started, I knew I'd made the right decision. Sometimes that's the best approach to have—dipping one's feet into a subject to test the waters. I had occasional doubts, of course, but I assured myself I'd be committed."

"Seems like a gamble, if you ask me," Madeline murmurs.

"Don't listen to your father. He was the most indecisive person on the globe when I met him," Papa retorts, turning off the burner on the stove before he joins everyone at the table. "I knew from very early on what I wanted to do. I had a passion for cooking, and what you girls need to do is find your passion."

Dad clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "Passion isn't everything. You also need to be willing to work hard and have clear goals."

"Why do something if you aren't happy with it and don't have any drive?" Papa asks rhetorically.

Dad immediately has an answer. "Not everyone has something they're passionate about, and that's okay. You can enjoy a job and not necessarily be passionate about it from the start. The passion can come with time."

Amelia glowers at both of her fathers. She doesn't know how their discussion led to a bickering fest, but she blames Madeline for igniting it. "You're both right, okay? You can stop now."

Papa and Dad huff but have the decency to look a little guilty.

Sometimes, Amelia wonders who the real children are around here.

Senior year is such a hassle. College apps, AP exams, SATs, and a bunch of other paperwork and unnecessary bureaucratic stuff that neither Amelia nor Madeline want to deal with. What's the big deal anyway? At the end of the day, they'll pick a school and decide to attend it, and all of the stuff they did that led up to that moment will become meaningless. Once they've been accepted, the perfect grades, eight different extracurricular activities they took part in for a few semesters, and the school spirit they pretended to show doesn't hold any weight toward anything anymore.

Thus, Amelia doesn't stress too much about the college process. She just lets it be. She puts in some effort and keeps playing basketball, but she doesn't worry about how any of it will look on her transcript or application. She'll never get to be a high school student again, and she wants to make sure she cherishes every final moment of her official childhood.

Madeline, on the other hand, doesn't see things the way Amelia does. She spends weeks at SAT prep, stresses over every point in her grades and every minutiae that makes up her academic standing. She takes five AP classes, sacrifices sleep, and spends less and less time with Gilbert so she can have more time to study. More than once, Dad and Papa express concerns over her extreme work ethic, but she brushes them off and insists she has everything under control.

That is, until she collapses.

Amelia isn't there to witness it, but apparently, Madeline has a fainting spell during her AP chemistry lab, and she's brought to the school's nurses' office. Dad and Papa are notified, and Amelia finds out when she doesn't see Maddie at lunch. Gilbert is the one who breaks the news to her and before he can even finish explaining, she sprints to the infirmary to check on her.

When she finds her, Maddie is lying on a small exam table pushed up against the wall in the corner of the room, and although she's ghostly pale and covered in her own sweat, she's awake and aware of her surroundings.

"Maddie? How are you feeling?"

"Bad."

"You've been overworking yourself."

"No," Madeline grumbles, pressing a hand to her head. "I just didn't have much to eat for breakfast because I was in a rush."

Amelia rolls her eyes. Even after all of this, her sister is still in denial. "That may have been what pushed you over the edge, but the constant studying probably isn't making things any better. I'll leave the lecturing to Papa and Dad though because you never listen to me anyway. Speaking of los padres, where are they?"

"Papa's stuck at the restaurant, but Dad's on his way. He texted me a few minutes ago saying he was looking for parking," Maddie explains, still holding her head.

"Okay, good. Prepare to get yelled at. Actually, no, he won't yell at you now. He'll yell at you once you feel better, and once he's done yelling at you, I'll yell at you, too. I can't believe someone with such high grades could be so stupid when it comes to her health."

Amelia takes a seat next to Madeline and holds her hand because it makes both of them feel better, and they don't say anything else until Dad comes in a few minutes later. The nurse goes up to him, and they exchange a few words, and then he sweeps over to where they are. His expression is a mix of anger and unsuppressed worry.

"Madeline," he sighs, battling to keep calm. He picks up Maddie's right wrist with a protective hand and checks her pulse. "You girls have to stop doing this to me. I'm too old for this kind of excitement."

Amelia scoots over to the side, so Dad can have more space to work, but she stays close enough to hang onto Maddie's free, left hand. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"If she takes better care of herself, yes," Dad says sharply. "We're going to have a long talk about this in the car. I admire you for wanting to take your education seriously, Madeline, but this is unacceptable. You're making yourself sick."

Madeline opens her mouth to argue, but a rush of pain slams against her skull again, and she nods softly, not having enough strength for anything anymore.

"Check her blood pressure and sugar levels when you guys get home," Amelia suggests. "And, Maddie, drink lots of water and try not to do anything for the rest of the day."

Dad's face softens, and he gives Amelia's shoulder a squeeze. "Don't worry, love."

Amelia briefly acknowledges the gesture and then leans over to give Madeline a hug. "Dad knows what he's doing, so listen to him, and stop being stubborn. I'm worried about you, and health always comes before school. Please, take it easy."

Maddie rubs a few tears away from her eyes, clears her throat, and nods. "You're right. I'm sorry for acting dumb lately."

"No worries. I just want you to be okay and happy. I'll see you later. Oh, I know, I'll get you some of your favorite ice cream on my way to the bus, and we can stuff our faces with it tonight," Amelia offers, breaking the hug. She says goodbye to both Maddie and Dad, and then, she heads for her next class because Mr. Zwingli won't be happy if she's late to gym again, and she really doesn't want to be forced to run an extra twenty laps for tardiness.

Of course, she'd much rather stay and help Dad look after Maddie, but that'll have to wait until later. Besides, she's fairly confident that Madeline has learned her lesson. And if she hasn't, then Amelia will make it her mission to make sure she does.

That's what sisters are for.

"Francis, what did you do with my dress shirt?"

"Mon cher, I put it on our bed after I finished ironing it. Your sweater is there as well."

"How was I supposed to know you'd put it there?"

"Because this is the third time I'm telling you. You never listen to instructions," Francis grouses. "I go through all of this trouble and—"

Arthur rolls his eyes and gives Francis the kiss he's been pining for. "All right, thank you. I appreciate the backbreaking effort you go through on my behalf."

"I would hope so," Francis mutters, but it's clear he's no longer bitter. "Wear the tie I bought you the other day, the blue one with the stripes. This is the last parent-teacher conference, after all."

It's hard to believe that after twelve years of talking to the girls' teachers and taking an active role in their lives at school, this is the final time Francis and Arthur will be able to put themselves at the forefront of the twins' educations.

They'd received the girls' report cards yesterday, and though neither of them had any major problems in the fall semester, they are concerned that Amelia and Madeline will soon fall victim to senioritis like everyone else, and so, it'd be best to get acquainted with their teachers before the start of the final, spring semester.

Once all of their wardrobe malfunctions have been dealt with, Francis and Arthur leave for the high school. The girls get the evening to themselves, while Francis and Arthur get to take a bit of a trip down memory lane, remembering all of the other times they've been in similar positions such as this one.

"Think there'll be any surprises tonight?" Arthur asks as they follow the stream of other parents entering the school.

"Hmm, I'm sure Amelia has missed an English assignment or two, but that's not exactly surprising by this point," Francis jokes wryly. Amelia isn't a bad student by any means, but she's notorious for taking a few shortcuts through her classes every now and then when her bouts of laziness take over.

Arthur nods in agreement and adds, "Should we be those parents who ask why Madeline received an A and not an A plus?"

Francis chuckles and his lips stretch into a grin. "We have nothing to lose, but non, I don't want to embarrass the girls. Are there any teachers we have to see?"

"Amelia's Spanish teacher. It's the class she's been struggling the most in."

"Okay, let's go there first… Can you believe the girls are starting college next term?"

Arthur hunches his shoulders and purses his lips. "No."

"What are we going to do when they're both out of the house?"

"Take a vacation on the coast."

"And after that?"

"I don't know. Frankly, I don't want to consider it," Arthur admits, and his chest strangely begins to ache. Maybe it's his turn to come down with something.

Francis makes an empathetic sound and smiles sadly. "We need another child."

"Oh, no. That time has passed. I wouldn't be able to raise another parasite."

"Are you suggesting our children are parasites?" Francis gasps, but the smile is still on his face.

"There are some similarities between the two, yes."

"The house will be lonely, don't you think?"

Arthur turns his head to the side, so Francis can't see his eyes, and states, "We'll get a cat."

"At least we'll still have each other," Francis reminds, purposefully sounding cheesy. He takes one of Arthur's hands and rubs a thumb over it. He knows this is a difficult topic of discussion for both of them. "I love you."

Arthur clears the emotion from his throat and murmurs, ever so quietly, "I love you, too."

One day. That's all they have left together as a family before Amelia goes off to school in California, and Maddie leaves for Massachusetts. There's not enough time. Never enough time. Just eighty-six thousand, four hundred seconds. In the morning, Papa and Dad will drive Maddie to her bus first, and then they will drive Amelia to the airport, after which they'll be apart for the majority of the year—for the next four years and possibly beyond.

They decide to spend their last day at the park, feeding bread crumbs to the geese and watching the sun set over the lake. They have so much to say to each other that they end up hardly saying anything at all because talking hurts. As much as Madeline and Amelia know they're ready to tackle the next chapter in their lives, they also know that leaving behind their parents will be one of the most difficult things they'll ever have to do.

It's not just college. It's life from beyond this point. They're saying goodbye to their childhoods, and though Papa and Dad will still be there for them when necessary, it'll be different because they won't be little girls anymore—they'll be adults, and they'll be expected to act like adults should.

Amelia wishes she could rewind the year and start over again, if only to relish in everything once more, but science hasn't discovered a way to do that yet. She can't stand the solemn expressions on everyone's faces.

There's a playground at the other end of the park, and she can see children cheerfully taking turns on the slide and at the monkey bars—lucky them. They don't realize how great they have it, do they? Soon enough, they'll be in her shoes as well, standing on the other side of this lake, wondering how they managed to grow up so fast.

"Amelia? Is everything all right?" Dad asks her, and for the first time, Amelia realizes that he is older, too.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking… What if I don't like it at college?"

"It'll take some getting used to, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

Amelia doesn't know if he's just trying to placate her. She doesn't think he is. "This is going to seem like a weird question, but what was my favorite thing at the playground? Was I crazy about the slide or the merry-go-round?"

"Neither. You spent your entire afternoons on the swings," Dad recalls with a little smile. "The middle swing, to be exact."

"Why the middle?"

"You were convinced it would let you swing higher than the others."

Amelia squints to better make out the swing-set at the far end of the playground and tries to picture herself swinging among the children there, with Madeline on her left. "I fell off that swing, didn't I?"

"Oh, yes. On more than one occasion."

"And I wasn't afraid to go on it again?"

"No, why would you be? You were a fearless child, and a few scrapes never stopped you."

She laughs, and her eyes get all watery and sappy on her. "I wish I could be half as invincible as I thought I was back then."

Suddenly, Madeline comes over to them and nudges Amelia in the ribs. "There's a woman selling cotton candy over there. Let's go and get some."

Some things don't change, and thank god for that.

Amelia takes one last look at the playground, and then shifts her gaze between Dad, Papa, and Maddie, and she can feel some kind of warmth ballooning in her stomach. "Okay, I'm coming."

She turns away and starts walking, but then she stops mid-step, remembering something. How could she forget?

She looks to Dad and smiles. "Toodle-loo, kangaroo."

Just like that, the solemnity is wiped away from his face, and he laughs with her. "What about my hug, ladybug?"

She strolls into Dad's arms and rests her head on his shoulder, only for Papa and Madeline to join them seconds later. It's the group hug they all need but never wanted to admit to needing.

It's not easy to pull away, but Amelia manages to do it after a full minute has passed and says, "Now, let's go get that cotton candy, sis."

"Last one there is a rotten egg!" Maddie shouts playfully, sprinting down the road.

"You don't stand a chance!"

Who says they can't be kids for a little longer?