Page 41 of Tutoring the Bad Boy
I shrug my shoulders. “What did I do this time?” I’m genuinely curious since I’ve been actively working to not be in trouble.
“Sit down.” Dad pulls open the stool next to his.
A sigh slips from me as I drop into the chair.
“I got a call from Principal Gray this morning.”
Really? Dang. This is more serious than I thought. I’m going to need to stand my ground. I feel no shame over what happened last night. All I did was stick up for Ginny. “And what did she say?”
“She said you were rude when you went over for dinner. And to make matters worse, you didn’ttellme you went there for dinner,” Dad says and then takes a gulp of juice.
I motion toward the fridge in exasperation. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it was a big deal. You were working late, our fridge is barren, and it was the principal’s house. I honestly figured you’d be happy I was hanging out over there, keeping myself out of trouble.”
Dad tosses his newspaper aside. “Normally, I’d say you’re right, but with it being your senior year and her thinly-veiled dislike of you…maybe it wasn’t the best idea.”
“Maybe, but Ginny asked me to be there.” My dad and I used to be close before my mom left and I got angry at the world, my dad being the closest and easiest to take it out on. There’s an itch to tell him everything that’s going on, but I want him to have plausible deniability if anything goes down. I’ve given him enough grief over the last couple of years that I owe him.
“Kaleb.” Dad takes off his glasses and massages the bridge of his nose.
As I’m looking at him, I start to notice a few things. He’s got crow’s feet the size of Big Bird’s, his hair is grayer, and he looks…tired. What hits me in the chest is that most of that is due to me and the stress I’ve put on him.
“I actually appreciate that you tried to be there for…Ginny, but she’s Norma Gray’s daughter. I just don’t want you being a target.”
Again, I’m tempted to tell him about Principal Gray’s deal, but I think he’d be furious. I really don’t want to add anything else to his plate just yet. Plus, I’m starting to see things a little clearer on Mom, him, and their divorce. I need to show my dad that things are different with more than just lip service.
“I know, Dad, and I don’t want to be a target either. Ginny…just needed someone there as moral support.”
My dad blinks a couple of times, and his posture softens. A long sigh pours out of him, then he smiles. “You know, when you were younger, you always did stand up for the little guy. Remember in fifth grade when you socked that boy for pushing a girl down. It was just before Principal Waas retired. I think it was right in the middle of that transition because Principal Waas’s wife was having health problems, and that’s why it happened during the first few weeks school started.”
The memory floods back in color, and I recall the entire thing with such clarity that I’m shocked I didn’t remember it before now. It was Ginny, and I told her not to tell anyone because she was new and I didn’t want her first day spent ratting out someone. It was a few months after that first time meeting her that we became friends. I can’t believe I didn’t remember before now. “Yeah, I remember.”
“I was so proud of you.” He chuckles. “Your mom wasnothappy. She thought you should have handled it better or different, but that boy had a reputation for being a jerk back then.”
Nodding, I say, “Yeah, I think they moved a couple of years after that.”
A smile lights up my dad’s face, and it goes all the way to his eyes. “You remember when we used to do bro nights? Your mom would go out with her girlfriends, and we’d spend the evening watching movies and eating junk until we were sick?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Let’s do that this weekend. What do you say?”
For a second, I’m stunned. We haven’t done that in years. “Don’t you have to work?”
His shoulders sag for a moment, and then he shakes his head. “You know what, I’ll make sure everything is done by Friday. We can go to the grocery store right after you get out of school, fill up the fridge, and get high on Spree and Now and Laters.”
Really? “Uh…”
My dad’s lips turn down almost imperceptibly, but I see it. He’s making an effort. “It’s—”
“I’m down for it. I don’t have any plans this weekend. I mean, I need to read some for Mrs. Yates’s class, but I can do that pretty quickly.” I just can’t turn him down. Well, not can’t. Don’t want to. Suddenly, I realize why.
It wasn’t my dad who skipped town on me. Yeah, he’d thrown himself into work, but I can understand why now that I’m older. He loved my mom. As a kid, I remember him pulling her off the couch and dancing with her in the living room, painting her fingernails because her hands were sometimes shaky, and coming home from work with flowers.
I mean, she was my mom. I loved her too, but I wasn’tinlove with her. She didn’t make a promise to love and cherish me. My dad’s heart was broken, and he didn’t know how to process it any better than I did. We were both hurting.
My dad’s phone buzzes on the table, and he checks it. “Oh, man, you need to get some breakfast and get going.” He looks up from it to me. “If you want, I can take you. We’ll hit the donut shop on the way.”
“Donuts? You’re on.”
