Page 69 of Smooth Moves
“She had scholarships too. You weren’t interested in college,” Carl said, sounding defensive.
“I didn’t know what I wanted at eighteen. I only knew I needed a change. Supportive parents would have been nice,” she snapped. “Rafi’s fifteen. He’s having problems in school.”
“He’s turning into a thug.” Carl scowled at Rafi. “Bad grades are one thing. Acting out, cursing at teachers, and skipping school are another.”
Rafi spoke up, his voice cracking. “That teacher called me a stupid moron going nowhere in life. And, come on, stupid and moron is redundant anyway.”
Jordan didn’t dare laugh. Wait. A teacher had called him names? Before she could ask Rafi about it, he blundered on.
“I try, but I’m not smart at some things.”
“Which is why we got you tutors,” Carl said. “But you wouldn’t go to your sessions.”
Hmm. Point to the parents on that one.
“Because only the special needs kids go to that tutor, and everyone knows it! I’m not autistic or on some freakin’ spectrum. I just don’t do well at math.”
And see, that there. Jordan would have saidgood at math. Yet Rafi knew when to usewellorgood. He could draw like he’d been born with a pencil in hand and could talk about everything from video games to politics. Her little brother had a brain. It just didn’t like school.
Troy had the nerve to speak again. “Perhaps another tutor might help?”
Maria sighed. “We’ve tried other tutors, but when Rafi refuses to go to school, none of that matters.”
Rafi stiffened and pulled away from Jordan. “So I guess it’s good that I’m out of your hair, living with the only person here who cares.” He stood up and went back into the house before Jordan could stop him.
The silence left in his wake seemed to make everyone uncomfortable.
“I hope you’re happy,” her mother said. “I knew today might be like this, but I’d hoped we could be civil at least.”
“Mom, this is ridiculous. Everyone is nice and gets along when you ignore what’s really going on.”
“Which is what, exactly?” Troy asked.
“One, you are not a part of this family yet, so shut the hell up,” Jordan told him, shocking the entire table.
Leanne gasped. “Jordan, you apologize for saying that.”
“Two.” Jordan turned to her parents. “How can you two call yourselves his parents yet be okay with Rafi going to some military school for kids with disciplinary problems? Rafi’s just a kid.”
“With disciplinary problems,” Carl said drily.
Troy looked as if he’d swallowed a lemon but remained quiet.
“We love him, but I’m sorry,” Maria apologized. “I don’t understand that kind of behavior. Neither of you two acted out like that.” She nodded from Jordan to Leanne.
“Mom, are you deliberately avoiding my entire past?” Jordan asked, agog. “I skipped school, smoked marijuana, and barely got by with average grades in high school.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Bull. You totally did because you caught me once in the house with my room all smoky.” Not Jordan’s brightest moment, but in her defense, she’d thought her parents were gone for the weekend.
By the shock on his face, she saw that Carl hadn’t known. “Mom didn’t want to rock the boat, so she kept it from you, Dad. I wasn’t a bad kid. I was being a teenager. It’s normal to want to argue, skip school, act out. We can’t all be Leanne who never steps wrong.”
“I had problems.” Leanne frowned.
“You had good kid problems, likeoh my gosh, I’m getting an A–.” Jordan snorted. “You’re also the golden child who can do no wrong.” Jordan knew she sounded bitter and probably shouldn’t have aired this out in front of everyone at a picnic, but some perverse part of her wanted it on the table. “Rafi needs help. Why not be loving and support him, dealing with a not-so-perfect child? He’s a good kid. He just needs to find his way. And believe it or not, he’s so smart it’s ridiculous. Just because his grades don’t show it doesn’t mean he’s stupid.”
“What you’re saying is you don’t want him at your home anymore.” Carl shook his head. “Jordan, we told you he was a handful. He’ll get better with supervision away from a too-forgiving family. Rafi needs to deal with the reality of growing up. You call it desertion. We call it tough love.”
