Page 13 of Indigo Sky

"I want to go to trade school with Nate."

"Nate would have to get his GED too." She looked back at him and gave him an expression that said,You hear that, young man?

Nate nodded beside me. "I know. But that's the point. We wanna get our GEDs and go to school together, so we could, like, go through it at the same time."

Dad rolled his lips between his teeth and slowly nodded as Mom clasped her hands and held them to her mouth. Both of them seemed to be deep in thought, but neither seemed to be disapproving of the idea, and I was hopeful. Nate and I had spent the past few nights talking about this in depth. He hadn't been in school since the fire and officially dropped out around his sixteenth birthday in January. He’d spent his time helping Mom at the gym or doing chores around the house—earning his keep, Dad would joke every now and then. Now, it was April and close to my birthday, and I didn't want to go back.

School had been worse since Nate had left. It was lonely, and I went through my days, barely hanging on. I rarely remembered to do my homework, rarely remembered to listen in class; my grades had dropped so dramatically that summer school was a definite and the possibility of being held back a grade was likely. And it wasn't depression or teenage angst or whatever else my teachers and guidance counselor wanted to blame it on. It was the simple fact that I just didn't care. I wanted to work on cars. I wanted to get my hands dirty. And spending my days learning about shit I'd never apply to real life seemed like a waste of my fucking time.

Mom and Dad had easily given Nate the go-ahead to drop out if he wanted to. Because, despite them opening their home to him and treating him as one of their own, they never wantedhim to feel trapped or pressured the way he had at his mother’s house. However, I was still their son and legally under their control, and if they told me no, I would be angry, but I would listen and finish school with a frown on my face.

But, fuck, I didn't want to.

Finally, after moments of tumultuous quiet, Mom glanced at Dad again, and they seemed to share another silent conversation. One I couldn't decipher.

Then, Mom looked at me and said, "Listen to me right now."

"Yeah?"

"You can drop out of high school—"

"Yes!" I threw my fist into the air as Nate grabbed my arm with both hands, giving me a hearty shake.

"Ifyou immediately enroll in GED preparation classes. I don't want to see either one of you slacking off—do you understand? You get your GEDs, then get yourselves into trade school right afterward. Okay? If your father or I suspect even aninklingthat you're not taking this seriously, you're going back to high school. Is that clear?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yes."

Honestly, I'd only heard half of what she said, but whatever. I was going to do anything she wanted me to do if that meant I didn’t have to go back to that fucking place that wanted me less than I wanted it.

"Okay."

Then, she resumed eating, dropping the conversation as quickly as it'd started, and I was certain I had the coolest parents to ever live.

***

And as it turned out, I wasn’t stupid after all.

I just needed to be interested in what I was learning, and, man, was I interested in auto mechanics.

Nate and I both were.

After getting our GEDs, we sailed through two years of trade school. And honestly, I couldn’t even tell you what it was about automotive mechanics I was even drawn to. Maybe it was the idea of working with cars and not people. Maybe it was because I wasn’t particularly good at much and cars seemed as good of a job as any. Maybe I just liked the idea of helping someone get out of whatever shit situation they were in by fixing their getaway ride. Whatever it was, I liked it, and by the time we were nineteen years old, Nate and I were both licensed to work on cars.

Dad helped us secure jobs pretty much right out of the gate. An old buddy of his owned a shop not far from our house, and the guy was more than thrilled to offer us a job. We started right away and did well for ourselves, and when the money began to roll in, Nate asked what I thought about us getting an apartment together.

I didn’t think it was the worst idea. It would certainly give us the freedom to do the things we wanted to do—like smoking or bringing girls home—without having my parents watching our every move. And to my surprise, Mom and Dad didn’t disagree.

“You’ll stay local though,” Mom said, more a demand than a suggestion.

“Obviously,” I replied because, honestly, I didn’t want to be far from them either.

“And you’ll stop by whenever you can,” she added.

“Where the hell else would I go?” I asked with a laugh. “I mean, apart from work and the apartment.”

We laughed because we all knew I didn’t have any other friends besides Nate, and at that point, I had never been in any kind of relationship with a girl.

But Nate had other plans for us, and in a few months, I’d learn exactly what those were.

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