Page 18 of Blindsided By Fake Love

Just when I start to think I was mistaken, Jack starts talking softly.

“There’s this girl at school. She’s a cheerleader.” Uh-oh. Jocks can be ridiculous when they think someone is encroaching on their territory. “We have math class together, and she needed help, so I helped her. But then we started talking. She’s fun.”

“And cute I bet,” I say, wiggling my brows. “What’s her name?”

“Stephanie,” he pauses, and I notice him pulling at his jeans. “She used to date the captain of the soccer team.”

This is where things get tricky. I’m not sure if I should wait for him to continue or start talking. Since I’m still not sure what the problem is. I wait again, only to be rewarded with him continuing.

“Yesterday, a few of the guys from the team came over while we were talking and brought up my parents. They continued on about me being an outcast and dirt. Everyone was laughing.”

“What about Stephanie?” I ask cautiously. “What did she do?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” And just like that, he shuts down on me.

“No problem. I’m here if you do.” So many thoughts are running through my head, but I also know that I can’t fix this for him. Kids are tough—I know, I was one once. And though I wasn’t mean, I was pretty brutal in taunting others.

Just ask Kit.

My face lights up just thinking about her.

Bringing my attention back to the boy next to me, I offer. “Just remember, how people treat you is a reflection of their character. What you do with it is a reflection of yours.”

“Huh?”

I glance over at him. “What your parents did doesn’t make you any less valuable, Jack. What people say to you or think about you isn’t as important as what you think and feel about yourself. Does that make sense?”

“Not really.” His head falls to his chest, and he lets out a sigh.. “All of this is just hard.”

I cup his shoulder and give him a squeeze. “I know. I think you’re doing great, though.”

“Really?” He asks, eyes huge.

“Really! Being your age is way harder than being mine.” I chuckle.

“So what do I do when I see Stephanie again? I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why are you embarrassed when the others were the ones making fools of themselves?”

“Because everyone was watching and laughing,” he scoffs.

He’s right. Seeing everyone again the first time after that can be tough.

“I’m gonna share a secret with you. It’s what I do whenever someone points out something I did or said. Professionally or personally.”

He’s watching me with an intent expression on his face. It’s the perfect time to share with him the lesson that changed my life.

“Has anyone ever talked to you about ducks?”

Chapter Eight

Kit

“SammySosaisingreat shape, Mr. Herbert.” Sammy, named after the famous baseball player, is a twelve-year-old black American Shorthair cat here for his annual check-up. He’s one of the few cats who doesn’t try to scratch my eyes out when he comes for a visit. For that alone, he holds a soft spot in my heart. “All of his vitals are normal. When I get the blood work back from the lab, I’ll call you.”

A low, contented purr comes from Sammy as I stroke my hand down his back. When my hand reaches by his tail, his body arches, and I smile.

“He really does love you,” Tony Herbert says to me, but his smile is aimed at Sammy. One thing that will never get old is how much people love their animals. It’s one of the best parts of my job. “Come on, Sammy; it's time to go home.”

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