by Kellie Bean
"Yes, both your mother and I thought you were taking on far too much.” Dad holds up a hand. “You had soccer." he lifts one finger. "Dating." A second finger. "Volunteering…" He pauses as the third finger goes up. "And…"
I shrug, completely helpless.
"School." Mom finishes. "You have an education that you have been neglecting for nearly a month now. We were trying to be patient with you, trying to give you a chance to find your feet on your own after what we're sure was a huge disappointment. We tried! But, this has gone way too far."
Dammit. I should have let them go first. I'm already trying to find a way to backtrack, however, Mom isn’t finished. "We got a phone call from the school today. Not the first one either."
I close my eyes for a second, trying to will myself to be elsewhere.
"We know you’ve been missing classes, Reece." Dad glances at Mom, I wish I knew what they were trying to convey to one another. "That's going to have to come to an end pretty quickly, before you start to do real damage to your academic career."
Mom continues Dad's thought, I'm starting to get the impression that the two of them had been discussing this even before today. "We got an extra call today from one of your teachers. You got forty percent on your first math test of the year, Reece. Forty percent."
My face flushes immediately. I knew I failed that test, I'd tried not to think about it since. We hadn't gotten those grades back yet, I was putting off dealing with it.
I kind of figured I could write it off as just one more thing that was screwed up for me this year, and that I had more leeway or sympathy to play with, withmy parents, teachers. Everyone.
But, maybe not.
Which isn’t exactly fair.
I don't say anything. I’m embarrassed and angry that some stupid teacher decided to talk to my parents before even giving me a heads up. I'm guessing she had nothing but praise for Rhiannon in that same phone call.
"So, that would be a hard no on the dating thing.” Mom says, before running her tongue over the front of her teeth and then clicking her mouth shut. "We really try to give you girls a lot of leeway. Maybe that's because we realize what an unconventional childhood you've had, growing up as one of four.”
“You’ve had a lot of attention your whole life. Absolutely. You probably dealt with it better than your sisters. You've thrived in the spotlight but at some point, you're going to have to grow up. Partying with your friends and playing soccer isn't enough to assure your path to success."
I roll my eyes at the phrase path to success. It’s something my mom loves to talk about and Rhiannon is usually all too happy to let her ramble. It's like she thinks that because she became a doctor she is some sort of expert on success. Like that’s something any one person can actually define for everyone else.
She thinks she can define it for all of us.
"I just don't care about grades like you do!" I snap, knowing my chance to negotiate is long gone. "I don't see why this has to be such a big deal. I'm never going to be good at math so I don't need to waste my time there."
I really wish I had Rhiannon in my head right now to figure out a better way to say all of this. To make my point.
"You have to pass high school math in order to function in the real world, Reece. You have to have a high school diploma if you want to do anything at all these days. While I certainly won't force you to go to college after, I do think it could be a place where you'll really thrive, but not if you don't do well here first."
"I'm not going to college anymore." I say, shaking my head emphatically. "Not without soccer. No schools going to want me if I can't point to a team I played on and show them what I can do."
"No, they're not. Not if you don't have the grades to go with it. Soccer isn't everything. It's not your only path to success. What you're doing right now is self-destructive. You can work harder than anyone I know, instead you're wasting your time. You're missing volunteering shifts and you have a terrible attitude. You need to work harder, you need to do better."
"Work harder?" I say, so close to yelling. "I worked my ass off for that fundraising stuff and it didn't matter at all. Give me a break!" I place my hands on my hips. "So why don’t you guys just back off? It's my life and I get to decide what I do with it! Isn’t that what you’re always saying?" Yeah, I’m kind of enjoying being able to throw another one of her favorite phrases back at her.
Mom stands up and her body language mirrors my own. Right away, I know I pushed too far. Far enough that she's about to push back. What the hell can she do to me now that can make things any worse than they are already?
"You're wrong. I get a say because I'm your mother and I care about you. I get a say because sometimes you can't be trusted to make the right decision. Not yet. I get a say because you're being incredibly rude. With how patient we’ve been, I expected a little more gratitude."
“Gratitude?” I repeat back, disbelieving. Where is she even coming from right now? "So what then…" I say, challenging her because I can't help myself.
"You're grounded. One week and then we will re-discuss, but only if you don't miss a single class and your attitude improves."
Whatever I was about to say, her response shuts me up.
Grounded.
My parents have never really gone in for the grounded thing. It wasn't their style. Probably because they don't want any more of us hanging around the house then there have to be. Even Rhiannon didn't get grounded after she ran away from home at the end of last year.
"Fine." I say, defiant. "What does it even matter? It's not like I have anywhere to go anymore anyway."
"You will come home immediately after school, every day. You're not going out with your friends, you're not going on the computer and you will hand over your phone as soon as you get in every day, only to get it back before you leave the next morning."
I scoff, not actually believing she’ll push it that far. I always figured grounded was just being locked in my bedroom to relax with all of my stuff.
I let out a scream of frustration, desperately wanting to kick something, but there's nothing within reach.
Dad steps forward, but not close enough to touch me. "Reece, you need to breathe."
"I wish everyone would stop telling me to breathe."
"Why don't you take Molly for a walk?"
"I'm not sure…" Mom says, probably about to tell us that I'm not allowed to do that either.
Dad doesn't let her finish. "She needs to cool down. Reece?" He looks back at me.
All I want to do is swear at someone right now. I'm not even sure what to say. I started out this conversation hoping for the chance to get some of my old life back, and end up grounded instead. After everything.
“Fine, I'll walk the dog."
I back out of the room and head for the hallway, whistling for Molly at the same time. The sharp sound that comes out from between my lips isn't enough to drown out mom's voice behind me.
"I'm going to need your phone before you go."
Chapter 21
“This isn’t happening again,”
I say as Noah and I pull away from each other. It’s the same thing I said to him yesterday.
I found him almost as soon as the school day ended, knowing I had very little time to get away with my plan before I would officially be chastised for not coming straight home from school.
Two days ago, I made it home a full half hour after my sisters did. My dad didn’t say a word, but I did get a disappointed head shake that promised that next time, my absence would be noted.
I’ve been grounded for thirteen days now—needless to say, even though I managed to make it to every one of my classes in the last week or so, my parents do not think my attitude has improved.
So, I’m still grounded and still angry.
Yay me.
Saying goodbye to Noah, to my friends and to freedom gets less fun every day. At least this time, I’m able to catch up with my sisters before they’ve gone that far off sch
ool property, so I’ll look like I’m behaving.
Beyond my stolen moments with Noah, the only thing that has been keeping my sane is my walks with Molly. Before, it was my job to take her on her afternoon walk every fourth day. Now, I volunteer to do it almost every day, my sisters have yet to argue. Maybe they see walking the dog as more of a chore than I do, or maybe they realize how much I need this. Either way, they never argue.
Today, I’m a tiny bit tempted to put off our walk for an hour or so and start in on my homework first, so I can sit at the kitchen table while Dad makes dinner, making sure he sees me doing it and knows I’m playing along.
As soon as my sisters and I are in the door, Molly comes running. Her tiny body is really starting to fill out now and it’s already getting hard to remember her as the roly-poly puppy she was when I first found her.
Yeah, my homework can wait. There’s no way I’m telling her no.
“Can you drop this upstairs for me?” I ask, handing Reilly my backpack. I don’t catch the answer. Instead, I’m already on the floor trying to get Molly to hold still long enough that I can clip her leash onto the purple collar she now wears around her neck.
Molly is off like a shot as soon as the front door opens, but at this point, her antics are pretty predictable and I’ve got a steady hold on her leash.
The two of us don’t have a usual route, so by the time we make it to the sidewalk, Molly is already looking to me for direction. On a whim, we go left and take off into the heart of suburbia. There’s not much this way other than houses and a few parks, but it’s where we’re most likely to meet other people out walking their dogs, potentially let Molly make new friends and practice her dog manners.
I pick up my pace as soon as we leave Oakridge, shifting into a jog for a chance to stretch my legs. With every day that passes without soccer, I can feel myself getting more and more out of shape. It’s too late now for there to be any real hope of a miracle to revitalize the school team this year. I hate knowing that now even if I could play, I wouldn’t be at my best.
After a few blocks, Molly starts to lag behind me, I only slow down once the leash between us grows taught. She’s stopped completely to sniff a patch of grass, maybe to find somewhere to pee, and I have no choice but to follow her lead.
Instinctively I grab for my phone, hoping to use the pause to text Jamie or whoever might be around. But of course, it’s not there. It’s in the side pocket of my bag, if Dad hasn’t grabbed it already.
There are a few people out on the street, including a couple of girls I recognize from school across the street. Though, not well enough to know their names.
As Molly finishes her business, we take off again in the same direction we’d been moving. Someone turns the corner onto the street and is heading right at us. They have a dog on either side of them, both of whom are far bigger than Molly will ever be.
I look down at Molly, who is already tugging toward the newcomers, figuring it’s worth a chance, assuming the dogs are friendly. Still, just in case, I have shortened her leash, keeping her close to me. As they approach, it’s easy to see that the dog on the left is a bull terrier whose brown and white markings are similar to Molly’s, the other is a black retriever mix who looks vaguely familiar.
Leading Molly over to the grass, we stop and wait to see if we can get the okay for introductions to the dogs… if they’re not dog friendly, than we’ve given them a wide berth to pass us on the sidewalk.
“Hey Molly!” a male voice says at the very same moment I realize where I’ve seen the black dog before. It’s Poncho. John’s dog.
Of course he said hi to Molly even before talking to me. When I look up, it’s me that John is smiling at.
“Hey Poncho.” I answer back, extending my hand for the older dog to take a long sniff. “Who is this?” This time, my question is directed at John.
“This is Miles. He’s a bit of a nut, but he’s a good walker.”
“Another foster dog?”
“Nope. He belongs to a friend of my mom’s. She’s basically everyone’s go to for dog sitting.”
Molly is already straining at the leash again to get closer to the other dogs, and even though she’s met Poncho before, I’m not taking any chance. “Will they be okay to meet her?” I ask. “I’m trying to work on her socialization.”
John nods. I love that I don’t have to explain to him what I mean by that. We spend the next few minutes letting the dogs get close to one another and interact a little. Although, I’m in hyper-momma mode, on the lookout for any sign of trouble. It turns out that even though Miles looks all kinds of tough with firm muscles and impressive growls, he’s a big softy who only looks on as Molly tries to tempt him into playing with her. Poncho is almost entirely disinterested, watching me more than my dog and correcting Molly whenever she oversteps her bounds. It’s something I have to remind myself is totally normal, something Molly actually needs.
“So, I haven’t seen you around much lately.” John says when the dogs have all settled in the grass.
The first question that jumps into my head is if he’s been looking for me at school, but, then I realize what he must mean. A flush of shame overtakes my face. “Yeah, I guess you heard what happened with Kendra. I hate that… I don’t know. It sucks.”
Instead of looking uncomfortable about me getting fired, John offers up a sympathetic grimace. “Kendra can be weird sometimes. She takes her job so seriously which is great, but sometimes she forgets that sometimes people need help as much as any of the animals she takes in. I’ve tried explaining to her that you—”
“You really don’t have to do that.” I interrupt. “I get why she did it.”
“You missed one shift, Reece, and it wasn’t for anything crucial. Stuff happens.”
I open my mouth to argue, but realize I probably shouldn’t be trying to talk John into thinking I’m an unreliable slacker, so, I decide to keep quiet. “Thanks. I tried to make it up to her, but she had to do what she thought was right.”
“Would you have kept volunteering there if you’d had the option?”
“Of course.” I say with a nod. “She's already replaced me, I’m sure.”
“Well, any chance you want to know a secret?” John asks in a mock-whisper.
I can’t think of anything to do other than play along. “Sure.”
“Give it some time, then try again. Or go at it from a different angle. I know my aunt liked you, she thought you were great with the dogs. It won't be long before she starts missing having you around. I know I would.”
The first genuine smile I’ve had in days forms on my face. I don’t know why. It’s not like John is actually saying it’s a sure thing that I’ll get my job back. Only that there’s a chance.
There’s a chance I can put back a piece of my life from this summer!
“Thanks.” I answer. “I’ll definitely do that.” I’m not quite ready to go home yet, and this conversation with John is the first I’ve had with someone I’m not related to outside of school hours in two weeks. I almost ask him if he’s had any more updates from the puppies, but I don’t want to bring up something that might still be a sore subject. Instead, I go with a safer option. “How have you been?”
John’s face lights up as soon as the question leaves my mouth, leaving me glad I didn’t decide to head home yet. “I’m good! My teachers this year are way better than I thought they would be. I just leveled up on City of… wait, sorry. I was about to get super lame on you. Yeah, things have been good.” John finishes with an abrupt nod, which I suspect is his attempt to look less dorky. It’s not exactly working, but the move is pretty cute all the same.
“City of Ages.” I say with a laugh. “I know what that is.”
“You play?” John looks so hopeful that I almost feel bad having to admit that I don’t. I’m not about to lie to him.
“No, my sister does. Reagan. She’s been playing since it came out and talks about it pretty much non-stop.”
&n
bsp; John’s already nodding again, like he knows exactly what I mean. “Yeah, it’s awesome. They’ve just announced a new expansion pack, so there are already more people online than usual. It’s been pretty intense.”
There is no part of me that can wrap my head around the idea of someone feeling as intensely involved in a game like City of Ages, as I do when I’m out on a field, kicking a ball to my teammates, but the way John is talking about this game really is intense. Not in that intensely creepy way that I somehow imagine Reagan’s online friends do, who are even more obsessed with City of Ages than she is.
John seems to actually love this game.
“What kind of character do you play?” I ask. It's my best guess at what I’m supposed to ask, based on all of the half-listening I’ve done when Reagan or her friend Nadine back home talked about C.O.A. From the way John’s smile grows, almost impossibly large now, I seem to have hit a bulls-eye.
I spend nearly ten minutes nodding along as John explains the difference between his paladin and his rogue before the dogs start to get antsy. I really have no more excuses not to get back home, back to being grounded.
“Do you walk the dogs here a lot?” I ask, once we’ve untangled Molly from the two older dogs.
“Most days after school. You?”
I shrug, not really sure what to say. We don’t come this way that often, but meeting John here today was the most fun I’ve had in awhile. I’m already eager for a repeat.
Thankfully, John doesn’t press for an answer and waves goodbye, before leading his charges across the street to the park.
Molly tries to follow them but unfortunately for both of us, it’s time to head home.
Chapter 22
The next day at school I keep an eye out for John, curious as to why we never see much of each other during the day. The answer is one I didn’t expect.
Clearly, I wasn’t looking for John hard enough before. He’s everywhere.
