Stop Pretending That You're Sorry

“So what is your real address, is it Auburn Hills or is it the one in the school computers, that place off of Redmill?”

To tell the truth or not, that is a really hard decision. Especially when it comes down to sitting in a hot, single 25 year old’s navy blue BMW. This really gross knot started forming in my stomach, but before I could stop myself words were spilling out of my mouth, and not exactly the ones I wanted.

“Alright, I’m going to be honest, but only because you’re my favorite teacher,” I paused to take a breath, already regretting my decision.

“Oh really? I’m quite flattered, Regan.”

“Shut up. Truth is, I live off of Redmill. I lied because I was embarrassed. I didn’t want you to see my rundown house, in fact I still don’t. You can just drop me at the turn off from Auburn road to Redmill. That’s also why I’m not taking the bus. Trust me, if you saw my house you’d be embarrassed for me.”

He pursed his lips as though he was thoughtfully trying to pick out the right words. “Though lying isn’t a good thing, I understand why you did, and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me the truth. You must understand though that I’m worried about you walking around there, it’s not a nice part of town as you are probably well aware of.”

“It’s alright, I’ve been fine there for the past few days. My family is a little… financially embarrassed right now so we’re stuck living in Redmill until the cash flow increases.” In other words once Anthony got a real, respectable career, not drug dealing, and he stopped wasting his money on coke for mom, we’d be in good shape. That was never going to happen though.

“I’m pardoning you from detentions for real now, since you’re walking all this way and getting the bus isn’t an option.”

Fuck. There went my afterschool get away… or maybe not.

“Hey, Mr. Harrington, could I maybe have tutoring after school with you? I have a hard time concentrating on work, so I was thinking if I spent an hour with you each day, kind of like detention, I would have plenty of time to get homework done without distraction.”

“Uh… alright. I wouldn’t exactly call that tutoring though… but if you have any questions and need help I’d be happy to help.”

“So it’s a plan. Thanks Mr. H.”

Once the conversation had died, I reached forward to turn the radio knob, looking for something decent yet again. The radio gods were on my side that day because I managed to find M.I.A’s Paper Planes, a favorite of mine if you haven’t picked up on that yet.

To my surprise and enjoyment, Mr. Harrington started singing along under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. I couldn’t help myself from smiling.

“You like this song?” I asked, turning my head slightly to catch his reaction.

“Of course. It’s one of the best.”

“Your taste in music is amazing, man.”

I folded my fingers so my hands turned into fake guns and pretended to shoot in time with the music. And then that feeling came back, that true, raw happiness. We were laughing and smiling together and just having a blast. I never knew it was possible to have this much fun doing something so ordinary. Then again, Mr. H certainly wasn’t ordinary.

This time we rode straight past Auburn Hills, both of us looked out to the left to watch it pass.

“You know I have no problem taking you right to your house on Redmill. I’m not going to judge you.”

“Alright fine,” I sighed, my words once again taking control. “But don’t call child services or anything. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

That was a big, steaming pile of fresh bullshit right there if I do say so myself.

Internally I started panicking. What if Anthony was out smoking a cigarette? What would he say? Would he tease me about Mr. H? Would he hit me in front of him? My heart beat started to catch up and match pace with my racing thoughts.

Goddammit I’m screwed.

The little click click click of a turn signal never sounded so dooming before. We turned onto Redmill and my hands started sweating buckets.

“Which house is it?”

“The one with the puke colored couch on the front porch, and the screen door with a huge hole in it.”

I took a deep breath, this was it. I was going to show the man I had a huge crush on the shit hole that I lived in.

And as we pulled up I caught sight of Anthony, slumped on the couch with a cigarette dangling from his lips. His shaved head looking shiny in the sunlight, while his wife beater showed off the menacing tattoos covering his arms.

“Who is that? Does he live you?” Mr. H’s tone was slightly on edge.

“Unfortunately. That’s Anthony, my mom’s boyfriend. He’s an asshole. Anyway, thanks for the ride, Mr. Harrington. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, Regan.”

“Oh right, damn. I guess I’ll see you Monday then.”

Goddammit. Now I had to spend two whole days with mom and Anthony. Or… I could always go to that party Julia mentioned.