An Unimaginable School Dream

I shut the door, and leaned against it, clutching my papers. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t believe what had just happened. What was going on? It had to be him who delivered it. Why couldn’t mom just let me get it all tomorrow when I go to school. Oh no, school. The minute or two I just had around him was already too much. I apologized, but was that really enough?

I heard Marcey calling me, and then my mom coming in from the kitchen. I quickly wiped my face clear of any suspicion, and concentrated on the steam coming from the open door.

“Who was that, Alex?” She asked, checking on the pasta she was making, and smoothing down her apron.

“Oh, just someone dropping off my homework.” She looked at my hands, checking to see if I was lying. I hid my anger and smiled. “Well I need to go do this, and play with Marcey before dinner. I feel a lot better, so I should be able to go to school.” She nodded, and re-entered the kitchen, humming to herself.

I went and sat with Marcey, who instead of playing dolls was watching Spongebob Squarepants. I sat in a chair and turned on the lamp, looking through my work. I had twenty pages of work for Chemistry, one page for Music, three for Art, and only a set of notes from History. I sighed and got to work, knowing I had to act nice if my mom would even let me out tomorrow night for Jack’s party. It wouldn’t be easy.

I didn’t even bother reading the History notes, so I let it start my finished pile. I picked up the Music page, and laughed. It was just a list of scales, which was for beginners. I placed that in the finished pile and I grabbed all my chemistry. Half of it were signatures from the first day, from when I skipped his class. The other half wee worksheets from the textbook, which I hadn’t gotten, to help me memorize the Period Table of Elements. For twenty minutes I attempted to do some of it, then just threw it in the finished pile.

I grabbed my art work, which was a set of notes on dimensions, a famous painting which had to be analyzed for discussion, and an assignment. We had to draw our perception of love. I just began to frown as our mother came in, turning off Marcey’s show.

“Come in for dinner, kids.” Marcey jumped up and ran into the kitchen, and I followed laughing. We all sat down, and prayed. I was just scoffing to myself, when I remembered the cause of all this trouble. The picture. I thought back to yesterday, the feeling of my pants when I was laying down. The picture was still in there…right? I visualized my room, the jeans from yesterday on the floor. I was itching to go check, but I knew I couldn’t just excuse myself. I had a role to keep up. Be happy and nice.

“So, Marcey. How was your day?” Mother asked, adding a few extra meatballs to my plate. I smiled softly, and began eating.

“I drew, colored, and played with my friends. Then I came home and Ales wasn’t-“ I cleared my throat, like I was choking. Mom jumped up, but I shook my hands, and she cautiously sat down.

“Sorry, Marceyboo for interrupting you. Can I finish for you, so you can eat?” I asked smiling at her. She smiled in return and began popping in a meatball, her cheeks puffing outwards.

“So I wasn’t feeling good, so I showered like Marcey said I should. Then we played, and then you got home. Here we are,” I said, making it seem like it was a perfect day. If only she knew what really happened today. If she would have found out I went on a walk, and missed Marcey arriving home… let’s not go there.

“Sounds fun. Mommy had a long day at work, and she is super tired. Do you like your dinner, honey?” She was watching us eat, and Marcey nodded happily. She looked at me, and I knew what to say.

“It’s delicious mother, nothing like a home cooked meal.” I made sure to eat all my food, and listen intently to them both speak. I may have seemed calm, but my insides were swimming. I needed to get upstairs, but rushing up after dinner would seem suspicious. When we finished, I offered to do the dishes, and clean up. My mother happily agreed.

They went back into the playroom, and did Marcey’s homework together. I listened through the closed doors, and made the kitchen look clean and fresh. I calmed down my breathing, passing the stairs again and entering the room where they were. I smiled and sat down to finish my work.

“Kitchen is done, and homework is close to done,” I informed my mother, who nodded proudly. Though my face was bruised and cracked, I believe she saw a perfect child at that moment. I had her, and I knew it. However, I had to be 100% sure she trusted me. Being on good terms was nice, being on perfect terms sounded better.

I had all my work in the finished pile, except the drawing on love. I began to draw my mother, who was smiling gaily. I drew Marcey on her lap, clapping her hands and laughing. I finished five minutes before Marcey’s bedtime.

“Hey Marcey, come here for a second,” I said motioning for her. Our mother sat where she was, looking over at us. Marcey bounced over, looking at my hidden picture. “Do you know what love is?”

“Yes, Ales. It’s when your tummy is all fuzzy, and you want to hug and kiss somebody. Right?” She asked, worried she was wrong. I smiled and nodded my head.

“Do you know who I love?” I asked, letting her think for a moment. If someone asked me that, to answer about myself, I most likely would have said my guitar, and music in general, and of course Marcey. But that wouldn’t help my situation, now would it.

“Me and mommy?” She asked, looking up at me curiously. I chuckled, and showed her my picture. Our mom got up and walked behind me, gasping. “That’s us!”

“Oh, Alex! That is beautiful. Your talent is impeccable! So pretty,” she exclaimed, placing her hands on my shoulder and kissing my head.

“Thanks mom, but it could never capture the real beauty of you two. Pictures can’t replicate that,” I knew this was really buttering her up, and could have seemed weird, but she didn’t seem to notice. She had tears in her eyes, and I hugged her. “Can I put Marcey to bed tonight? Please?” I asked stretching it farther.

“Of course you can, I’m sure she would love that. Marcey you’re going to shower in the morning, okay?” Marcey nodded, and we watched our mom go upstairs and into her room to most likely read. I smiled to myself then walked upstairs with Marcey. She jumped up every step, and rambled on about how far she could jump. I laughed, talked, and smiled in all the right places. As we passed my room my hand itched to open the door, but I continued down to Marcey’s room.

I let her get changed, and go to the bathroom then tucked her inside her bed. I turned on her favorite projector which let butterflies and rainbows dance around her walls. She smiled, and gave a huge yawn. She asked to hear a story, so I slowly told one about a little princess and her big brother who saved her from all the evil dragons. She fell asleep quickly, but I finished the story.

“Goodnight, Marceyboo. I love you,” I whispered kissing her forehead, and then walked out. I shut her door, then turned around to see my mom. Her eyes were welling up with tears, and I hugged her. I let her lips kiss my head repeatedly, and even got myself to squeeze out some tears. She pulled away and muttered apologies about hitting me yesterday. I shushed her and told her it was my fault.

“I’m just a moody teenager who sometimes doesn’t see the right thing, especially the hard working of his single mother. Please forgive me? I’m even going to work on my grades. A friend wants to help tutor me in chemistry tomorrow night, but I think you should ground me for what I did,” I said hugging her again.

“No, no. You can go study. Sleep over if you need to. I’m happy to see you so happy. You are going to become a great person, Alex. A wonderful career, a beautiful family, and a charming life. I’m glad I had a small part of it,” she said smiling and walking away.

“Your part will never be small, mom. Just know that,” I said looking at her and stepping into my room. I heard her sniffle and close her door. I closed mine as well. It wasn’t like what I said was all a lie. I did love her, even if she acted rude sometimes. Sure, it’s what she wanted to hear, but I knew I meant some of it, if not all of it later in life.

I jumped over to my pants from yesterday, and shoved my hand in one pocket at a time. Nothing. I disheveled my room, quietly, looking for it. Not there. I rummaged through the bathroom. Not there. I went down stairs in every room, and every trashcan. Not there. I grabbed my homework and went back to my room, shoving it in my backpack. It was no where.

I collapsed onto my bed, feeling solemn. The only thing I was positive about was Jack’s party. I had no energy left to worry about the picture now. There was at least no way he had it.

* * * * *

I was in class… on time. Mom made sure I felt and looked good, and offered to drive me to school. I couldn’t decline so here I was in school on time, in history class. Tonight was Jack’s party. I just had to get through lunch work with the librarians, detention, and dinner at home. Oh, and history class. I just finished sending a text to Rian about the party tonight, when Penelope stood over me.

“You look terrible, love. Are you feeling better? Can I help you at all, honey?” She purred, leaning over the desk. Her low cropped shirt let her boobs spill over and out, and I pushed my chair back. I tried being nice, but with her, it was impossible.

“I’m fine, so can you please get your breast and face out of my face? Thanks,” I murmured. She didn’t seem disappointed, probably happy I acknowledged her boobs. I looked over to see Ashley laughing. I gave her a look, and she cleared her throat.

“Sorry, she was just like that yesterday. I got detention for calling her out on it,” she said. I gave a fake laugh, and looked away. Now I had to share detention with her. Peachy. Mr.Gaskarth walked in, and I immediately looked down at my papers.

“Hello class. No, ladies please stay in your seat. Were going to jump straight into work, so get ready,” he said setting his stuff down and sitting on his desk, grabbing his attendance chart. He didn’t bother calling names out, but just looked around. “Okay, today were going to have our first Friday event. Every Friday you and a group will perform a short skit on an event from history. Whatever you remember, do it. It doesn’t have to be long, nor does it have to be short. But it’s a competition, and the prize… will be announced at the end of each Friday. If you have wrong information in your skit, you automatically lose. So get into groups of no more than five!”

Everyone scrambled to find groups, squeaking over what they would do. I sat in my seat, unmoving. I had no friends in here, and why should I try making some? Everyone was huddled into their groups, secretly skimming through their textbooks. It was obvious I didn’t have a group, and I made no move to hide it. I glanced at the clock glaring. I was depending on the awkwardness of the past days to keep Mr.Gaskarth at a distance, but he seemed to put teaching above all else.

“Where’s your group, Alex?” He asked standing in front of me.

“I obviously don’t have one,” I said looking down, intimidated by his gaze.

“Join your friends, if the limit of people is the problem I can make an exception this time,” he said looking around the room.

“I don’t have any friends in here, sorry. I’ll just take a zero.”

“No, no. That won’t do. Guess I’ll be in a group with you. Wish we had at least one more person though,” he said, looking around. I gaped at his normalness. How was he this relaxed. I was like a ticking bomb, and he was like a soothing ocean. How?

“I’ll join you guys,” Penelope hollered, skipping from her crowded group to us. I groaned, which didn’t escape notice from the other Alex. The only plus would be that he wouldn’t be alone with him.

“Thanks, Penelope. So any ideas? Alex, what is one thing you remember?” He kept asking me questions, and I looked at the clock nervously.

“Uh… Stonewall Jackson dieing from a friendly fire,” I mumbled, remembering my fourth grade project on him. He smiled and Penelope giggled. I looked around, seeing the angry glares from all the girls. I would have switched, trust me.

“Good, good. So one of us can be Jackson, one the soldier, and the other the narrator. Penelope, which would you like?”

“Well, because soldiers weren’t girls… I’ll be the narrator.” She was already writing down her unnecessary narration, when he asked me who I wanted to be.

“I don’t care,” I said, pushing my hair out of my eyes. He began thinking, and then told me I would be the unnamed soldier. We planned it all out, and then he left us to check on the other groups.

“I hate how all the girls in here, just adore him. You agree?” Penelope asked, thinking because we were in the same group she had the right to talk with me as if we were best friends. I glared.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” One by one the groups went, sucking at all the right places. I wasn’t a history major but most that information seemed fake. Most the girls would move closer towards Mr.Gaskarth, skipping their lines, or just trying to start a conversation with him. I became jealous, but just dug it behind all my other feelings.

“Good job guys, interesting stuff. Now we have about seven minutes left so lets get my group done, and then we can judge.” He obviously looked severely disappointed in the presentations. Did he expect good ones? I wonder what’s so bad about that.

We stood up, and walked to the front of the room. Penelope actually skipped, I unenthusiastically shuffled over. She started her narration about the Civil War, about the achievements of “Stonewall” Jackson, and told about his death as we acted it out. He leaned over his desk, pretend shooting at the other kids, who giggled. He pretended to turn around and give orders, and looked at me. I had been fake shooting, and then “accidentally” pointed it at him. We locked eyes, and I fake pulled the trigger. I watched him gasp, and fake fall over and die. My heart was racing and I wanted to race over and make sure he was indeed alive. I stayed in character though, hoping those thoughts were just me, being too immersed into my role.

“Oh no!” I exclaimed, and we ended. Because all the other groups did not have valid information, we won. The class would have voted but not one other group was even halfway good. He looked a little depressed and happy about the outcome.

“Well your prizes this week are… tickets to the history museum. Now, museum… boring right? Well, this will be during school soon, and there are two more chances to win this. Those who win get to go. Oh and at this museum… your going to find out there a lot of interesting things to do, like games, and a roller coaster. Nevertheless, you get out of school. So time to go, pack up, think about next week.”

I scoffed to myself, and knew I wouldn’t go. I gathered my crap and quickly left for art. Today would be a long day, and I couldn’t wait till the end of it. Maybe I would even relieve some of the stress I’m bound to have by taking a page from Jeremy’s book. Yeah, that sounded good right now.