Chapter 40 Now
Now
“I’m nervous.” I was standing in the kitchen Monday morning before school, eating a protein bar and drinking a glass of orange juice. I was full of too much anxiety to sit down.
“Why?” Mom asked. She was loading some dishes from dinner last night into the dishwasher.
“Because what if they don’t pick me up? What if Beau can’t convince them?
” Beau thought it would be a good idea to have this apology talk in our carpool.
The carpool I hadn’t been a part of for months.
The carpool that Beau had zero control over because Ava could just keep her foot on the gas and drive right by my house.
But he thought it would be nostalgic. Put us all in the right frame of mind.
I had agreed last night, but today I felt like it was the worst idea in the world.
“If he can’t convince them, then you drive yourself to school and attempt to have the talk after school or over desperate voice memos that you text to them.”
“Thanks, Mom, super-assuring and helpful.”
She laughed and dried her hands on a towel, then put her arm around my shoulder. “If the past couple of months have taught you anything, it’s that you’re strong. No matter what happens, you’ll survive.”
“I don’t want to be strong,” I said.
“I know,” she said in a sympathetic tone.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took a breath of air, set my orange juice down, and took it out. It was a text from Beau that read:
Wait for us outside in fifteen.
I never waited for carpool outside. Why?
“What did he say?” Mom asked.
“He wants me to wait outside. He probably wants me to put on a sad face, and if that fails, throw myself in front of the car. Or maybe he’ll roll down the back window and I can jump in while they’re driving by.”
“So dramatic,” Mom said, returning to her task at the sink.
My phone buzzed again. Just in case, he responded.
“How does this face look?” I gave her an exaggerated frown and the saddest eyes I could muster. “For when I go outside.”
She smiled. “Who could resist?”
I kissed her cheek. “Have a good day at work. Tell your coworkers my boyfriend will beat them up if they give you a hard time.”
She laughed. “Really?”
“Have they…still been giving you a hard time?” I asked. Things with Dad had been hard on me, but they’d been hard on her too.
“It’s getting better,” she said.
“Good.” I scooped up my backpack from the kitchen chair and slung it onto my shoulder. I still had fifteen minutes, but I felt antsy. Pacing the sidewalk might help. As I walked to the front door, my dad was coming down the stairs.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Did I hear something about beating someone up?”
I shrugged. “Apparently it’s not necessary.”
“That’s good.” He gave me one of his amused smiles. One that made me remember something I’d written in the character letter.
“Dad,” I said.
“Yes?”
“I wrote a letter about you.”
“I know. I appreciate it.”
I slid my backpack to the floor and flipped through the completed packets I’d had to do last week while I was expelled.
I’d taken my time on them. Done the best work possible.
I needed to get my grades up. I knew my teachers weren’t feeling extra-charitable toward me these days.
I didn’t think filling their lounge with mints and treats would help either.
At the back of those packets was the printed letter I’d written for my dad.
When he hadn’t needed it, I’d shoved it into my bag.
It was a bit mangled, but I pulled it out anyway and held it out for him.
“Is this it?” he asked.
I nodded.
He held it up, poised to read.
“You don’t have to read it now,” I said.
“I want to.” His eyes traveled the page, taking in each word.
I fiddled with my fingers, then bent over and zipped up my backpack, lifting it onto my shoulder.
“I’d forgotten about the roller-skating,” Dad said with a laugh, still reading. “And the bookfair.”
“You’ve always been a great dad,” I said.
He blinked hard, his eyes still on the page. Then he was pulling me into a hug. “Thanks, kid. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“This is…this…I needed this.”
I nodded because I felt emotion rising up my throat.
“I want one!” Mom called from the kitchen.
I laughed. “I’ll write you one for your birthday!”
“Deal.”
“I have to go.” I pointed over my shoulder at the door.
“Yes, go,” Dad said. “Have a good day.”
I held up crossed fingers and left the house.
I walked down the two stairs of the porch and then across the grass until I stood at the edge of the sidewalk.
I threaded my other arm into the backpack strap and held on to those straps like they were my anchor.
My good feelings of moments before were replaced with panic.
The next fifteen minutes could be disastrous.
My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. A car rounded the corner, but it wasn’t Ava’s. I shifted from one leg to the other, then back again. I was seeing stars. If I fainted, would Ava stop? I sucked in more air. I wasn’t going to faint. I checked my phone. No new messages.
I heard her car. Knew it was hers before I looked. Caroline and Beau were staring out the windows at me. Ava was focusing straight ahead. That didn’t seem good. I took a step forward as her car got closer.
The car slowed down and relief poured through me. Just as I thought she was going to stop, her car kept driving, leaving me behind.