“Do you understand?”
“Huh?” I responded.
“Lexie, are you even aware of what class you’re in?”
“Gym.” Oh man, I forgot and said the word – Mrs. Neilson’s trigger word.
“This is physical education, Lexie, not gym. This is not some class for an easy A. Physical, it’s in the title. Gym is an antiquated class for little kids on scooters. This is physical education.”
She was still carrying on when I interrupted her. “I seem to be experiencing double vision. I need to go to the nurse.”
“The ball barely touched you, Lexie.”
“If my parents found out that my eyesight is at risk, you and the school will get in lots of trouble.”
“What’s so special about your eyesight?” she asked, not caring that I could possibly be having vision problems.
“As part of one of my parents’ outreach programs, I read to elderly patients in one of their non-profit hospices, and I am the best at what I do.” Okay, I knew what I said really made no sense. “Patients seek out my family on word of my abilities, and if they get lawyers involved…”
“Lexie, get out of my gymnasium, and go to the nurse.” See, she couldn’t even bring herself to say “gym,” even to refer to a type of classroom.
“Much appreciated,” I said.
After gym, one of my classmates found me in the hall.
“What’s the name of your parents’ hospice?” he asked. “I’d like to volunteer.”
“So does everybody else in the world. There’s a waiting list to volunteer. Would you like me to put your name on the list?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
“What’s your last name again?” I asked. To be honest, I didn’t even know his first name.
“Graham, James Graham,” he said, swiping his long bangs across his forehead.
“Okay, cool, James – I’ll put you down. Oh, and I need a phone number to reach you when a spot becomes available.”
I collected all of James’ information and went on with the rest of my day, thinking of a good name for my parents’ outreach program. In case anybody asked, I always had to be prepared. Lies sometimes require lots of details. Not initially, but as you get further into them.
***
I got home from school, and my grandma sat at the kitchen table with a solemn look on her face.
“What happened?” I asked, always assuming the worst.
“Got a phone call.”
“Okay…,” I said, going over in my head if I did anything worthy of the school calling home. Oh man, I hoped it wasn’t about gym. I never went to the nurse.
“It was your dad.”
“Oh, geez,” I said, going into a full body slump.
“He just wants you to visit.”
“No.”
“You haven’t seen him in five years.”
“Yeah, with good reason.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“He loves you.”
“If he really loved me, he would have done everything he could to keep me safe, keep my friends safe. He would have had a totally different job. If you can even call what he did a job.”
“Just think about it.”
“I already have.”
“Lexie…”
“I have homework to do.”
I went up to my room, but didn’t even attempt my homework. Instead, I sat in front of my sewing machine with my arms crossed. I really hadn’t seen my dad since that day, and I had no plans of ever seeing him. If he loved me so much, he would have tried to lead a clean life. I wouldn’t have cared if we had no money or lived in someone’s basement. We would have had each other, and that should have been enough, but it wasn’t. He was evil and selfish, his line of work required it. My grandma once told me it wasn’t a huge operation – which I do believe was a lie – but still, he got himself thrown in jail and got Dalton shot, not to mention all the people he had corrupted with drugs. He also turned me into a liar – okay, I might have already been one, but he encouraged it – not to mention whatever he did that made my mom go away. Grandma claimed it was her, not him, but I don’t know. If I was married to a
“Huh?” I responded.
“Lexie, are you even aware of what class you’re in?”
“Gym.” Oh man, I forgot and said the word – Mrs. Neilson’s trigger word.
“This is physical education, Lexie, not gym. This is not some class for an easy A. Physical, it’s in the title. Gym is an antiquated class for little kids on scooters. This is physical education.”
She was still carrying on when I interrupted her. “I seem to be experiencing double vision. I need to go to the nurse.”
“The ball barely touched you, Lexie.”
“If my parents found out that my eyesight is at risk, you and the school will get in lots of trouble.”
“What’s so special about your eyesight?” she asked, not caring that I could possibly be having vision problems.
“As part of one of my parents’ outreach programs, I read to elderly patients in one of their non-profit hospices, and I am the best at what I do.” Okay, I knew what I said really made no sense. “Patients seek out my family on word of my abilities, and if they get lawyers involved…”
“Lexie, get out of my gymnasium, and go to the nurse.” See, she couldn’t even bring herself to say “gym,” even to refer to a type of classroom.
“Much appreciated,” I said.
After gym, one of my classmates found me in the hall.
“What’s the name of your parents’ hospice?” he asked. “I’d like to volunteer.”
“So does everybody else in the world. There’s a waiting list to volunteer. Would you like me to put your name on the list?”
“Yeah, that’d be great.”
“What’s your last name again?” I asked. To be honest, I didn’t even know his first name.
“Graham, James Graham,” he said, swiping his long bangs across his forehead.
“Okay, cool, James – I’ll put you down. Oh, and I need a phone number to reach you when a spot becomes available.”
I collected all of James’ information and went on with the rest of my day, thinking of a good name for my parents’ outreach program. In case anybody asked, I always had to be prepared. Lies sometimes require lots of details. Not initially, but as you get further into them.
***
I got home from school, and my grandma sat at the kitchen table with a solemn look on her face.
“What happened?” I asked, always assuming the worst.
“Got a phone call.”
“Okay…,” I said, going over in my head if I did anything worthy of the school calling home. Oh man, I hoped it wasn’t about gym. I never went to the nurse.
“It was your dad.”
“Oh, geez,” I said, going into a full body slump.
“He just wants you to visit.”
“No.”
“You haven’t seen him in five years.”
“Yeah, with good reason.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“He loves you.”
“If he really loved me, he would have done everything he could to keep me safe, keep my friends safe. He would have had a totally different job. If you can even call what he did a job.”
“Just think about it.”
“I already have.”
“Lexie…”
“I have homework to do.”
I went up to my room, but didn’t even attempt my homework. Instead, I sat in front of my sewing machine with my arms crossed. I really hadn’t seen my dad since that day, and I had no plans of ever seeing him. If he loved me so much, he would have tried to lead a clean life. I wouldn’t have cared if we had no money or lived in someone’s basement. We would have had each other, and that should have been enough, but it wasn’t. He was evil and selfish, his line of work required it. My grandma once told me it wasn’t a huge operation – which I do believe was a lie – but still, he got himself thrown in jail and got Dalton shot, not to mention all the people he had corrupted with drugs. He also turned me into a liar – okay, I might have already been one, but he encouraged it – not to mention whatever he did that made my mom go away. Grandma claimed it was her, not him, but I don’t know. If I was married to a
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