Page 106 of Smooth Moves
Jordan let him ramble while she took her time appreciating the delicate raspberry filling of her light and flaky Danish.God, how are Elliot and Sadie not four hundred pounds?She could never work in the food industry, she decided. Not if she wanted to keep her fighting weight.
“Jordan, I have to tell you something.”
Please do. And if it’s about the shade of my Danish, I might brain you.She took a sip of coffee, felt human, and sighed. “I’m listening. I have food and coffee. The weather is fantastic, as you’ve said fifty times.” He blushed. She finished with “Life is good.”
“I got kicked out of school,” he blurted.
She froze then put her coffee back down. “Youwhat?”
He looked so sad, so downcast, that she forced herself to remain patient.
“Rafi, tell me what happened.”
He fidgeted while explaining in detail an outlandish altercation between himself and his teacher. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mouthed off, I know. But he was really mean.”
“Wait. That really happened?” Her brother was a lot of things, and, yeah, he occasionally lied. But she didn’t think he was lying about this. He looked too ashamed, for one, and he’d never been a bad student. Not until this year.
“I swear it did. I bet one of the kids recorded it on their phone. Jordan, he went off on me. He’s done that before to other kids during the school year. But I never had him until summer school.”
“He was a jerk.” She wanted to smash Mr. Simpson’s face in. “And I’m going to fix this tomorrow.”
“No, wait.”
“No one talks to you that way. I meanno one.”
Rafi stared at her then slowly smiled. “Thanks, Jordan.” The smile brought back the boy she’d grown up loving. Unfortunately, it faded as fast as it had appeared. “But he wasn’t all wrong.”
“What?”
“I’m not smart, and I never have been. I’m just good at faking it.” Rafi explained how he’d had help, pretending an understanding of math for the longest time. By the time he’d finished, Jordan wanted to cry for him.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
He blinked back tears, his voice gruff. “It’s embarrassing. I can’t do what sixth graders can. I really am stupid.”
“You are not,” she snapped. “I don’t want to hear you talk that way. You’ve been reading at an advanced level since you hit elementary school. Mom still brags about you. And none of us can draw like you can. So you’re not good at math?”
“Or science, really.”
“Or science. No one’s good at everything.” But his details about his difficulties made her think something else might be at work. “You need to see a specialist. Someone who can help you specifically with word problems and multiplication. What was wrong with that tutor Mom and Dad got you a while ago?”
Rafi shrugged. “I don’t think he liked me. He knew I had problems. I didn’t want to stay.”
“Looks like I’ll be talking to him too. Jesus. If you hate kids and don’t want to be a teacher, don’t teach!” She gnawed on her last pastry, needing to tear through something. “You haven’t had the best luck with the other tutors I tried to get for you. But I understand now. So if we take care of all this, do you think you can stop bombing toilets and harassing your teachers?”
“Jordan.”
“I get it, Rafi. You hate school. I’d hate it too if my teachers were jerky to me, I didn’t understand stuff, and no one helped me. You’re there to learn, you know. Not just to put a check in the block that you attended class.”
“Tell that to Simpson.”
“Oh, I will. Trust me.”
They talked for a bit longer.
“I have to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” Rafi left the table.
Jordan took the time to text her mom. Pleased to see her folks would be home for a few more hours before heading to a garden show, she set up a meeting. It was time to talk truth with her parents, and time to get Rafi back with the family that should have supported him from the get-go.
