Status: Active

Smoked Out

Get Out of My Way

When I was younger my dad used to tell me never to run with scissors. Unfortunately I was that kid who disobeyed their parents and actually ended up in the hospital. My cousin Lindsay was over for a visit and she was what I liked to call a “Mine Mine Mine” kind of person. Whatever I had she always had to have and she never hesitated to steal it from me. Man, did I ever hate her monthly visits.

I was making a card for my mom because it was her birthday in a couple of days and I was adding a pop out part to it when Lindsay came over demanding that I make her one. When I refused she threatened to steal the scissors and cut my hair off. Little me, with my long sandy brown hair, just couldn't have that. Let's face it though, what seven year old child wants their hair cut off? I grabbed the scissors and the card and started running away with them so that I got both my hair intact and the card but I tripped on a step going down the stairs and when I fell, the scissors dug into my arm.

I cut through a vein but miraculously the doctors were able to patch me up and prescribe me a set of antibiotics to help with the healing process. I remember requesting pink stitches and my mom shaking her head in disbelief that after everything that happened I was concerned about the colour of my stitches. I tried telling them what happened but Lindsay had cut into the middle of my story and told them the truth, just the part of it that didn't have her in it. I was banned from using scissors until I was nine when my grade three teacher and I got into an argument over arts and crafts. I told her I wasn't allowed to cut out the cue cards she had printed off for us to use for spelling tests and when she didn't listen I threw a tantrum, which resulted in a call home to my parents. I think they realized that my punishment had gone on too long then and I was allowed to use scissors again as long as I never ran with them. And if I'm being completely honest, I hardly use the damn things anymore and when I see children using them a weird feeling rises up in my stomach.

I couldn't skate for three weeks after that while my arm was healing. I think that was the thing that hit me the hardest about the situation, the fact that I wasn't allowed to participate in my mid-year competition. Instead I watched from the bleachers while skater after skater performed and I cursed Lindsay in my head for making me run with those scissors in my hand. I remember that sinking feeling I got when the doctor informed me that I wasn't allowed to skate until I was healed and I remember hating him for it even though it wasn't his fault. And now, as I went around to the back of my house and walked down the steps to the door that no longer belonged to my part of the house, I couldn't help feeling like my doctor. Feeling like I was going to tell someone that they weren't allowed to participate in the thing they worked hardest for. I hated this feeling, it felt extremely wrong to me.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door, waiting patiently for a response. I was standing there for a minute before Talon opened it wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and a plain black t-shirt. It was weird seeing him without his leather jacket and his steal-toe boots. He looked so natural and relaxed wearing that that it took me a second to remember what I had come to say.

“Hi,” I said trying to sound calm. For some reason the idea of disappointing him didn't sit well with me. He wasn't going to take it well, being the guy that he was and I was sick of his snide remarks. Aside from that though, I really hated having to turn down a student. Even if that student was an exact replica of this six foot three, arrogant, chain-smoker. Well besides the height anyways, Axel seemed like he would be around five foot five. His growth spurts would come though.

“Hi” He said in that mocking tone he had. Great, this was going to go so well! “Do you come bearing good news?” He rolled his eyes as he stepped out of his house, closing the door behind him, and taking out his pack of smokes. I watched as he took a smoke from the pack and placed it in his mouth. I wasn't meaning to be watching him so intently, but the way he did it made it look like something cool to be doing. I snapped out of it when he lit it up and then proceeded to blow the smoke in my face.

“I couldn't get the administrator to accept his enrolment,” I said trying to sound professional. He rolled his eyes at me which made me feel obligated to explain more. “I tried, I really did, but there isn't a way around it. Maybe I could sign him up for a medium levelled class or he could enroll in a few months after the Christmas break.”

“I'm not signing my kid bother up for twirling lessons. His coach wanted him to practice his skating technique, not spin around in circles wearing tights.” He sounded calm as he said it, like it was fact that figure skating was a pathetic sport. He blew another puff of smoke in my face which filled me with a sudden rage.

“Then his other option is to sign up after Christmas.” I was still trying to keep my professional face on because there was no way I was letting him get to me this time. I made a point to ignore his bash on figure skating because that was an argument that I didn't have time for. It was already ten and I was so tired from the day that all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed.

“He needs the practice now, not in a few months.” He mumbled with the smoke in his mouth. “Whatever, I never saw you as the discriminating type but I guess I was wrong. I guess you are the type of person who wouldn't give a kid a chance because you hated his older brother.” I hadn't expected him to say this and I was taken a back by his words. Something about Talon Langworth calling me a bad person made me want to yell in his face and tell him different.

“Look, that's not it at all and I don't hate you -”

“Sure you do.” He said cutting me off. “I see the looks you give me in the hallway at school. Always judging my actions instead of focusing on your own life. No one will ever be as good as Macy Crawford, the girl who reads “To Kill A Mockingbird” for fun and teaches skating lessons to children on the weekend.” By this point I was mentally slapping him repeatedly across the face.

“No.” I said matter of fact. “No, you judge me. You hate me. You're the one who always has something to say about everything. Don't pretend like you know me just because you've gone to school with me for the past four years and had a two second conversation with me at a party in ninth grade. Which I guess for you should have been tenth grade but you failed the year before I got there.” He looked mildly offended by my words which angered me even more because I had wanted them to bother the hell out of him.

“Whatever, I've got shit to do now so if you don't mind I'd appreciate it if you ran back to your good girl life style and left me alone.” Remember when I told him that I didn't hate him? Well now I do. Now I wanted to push him off the CN Tower just to rid him from living in my basement. How could my parents have rented it out to him? What charming qualities did he have that could have possibly made my parents like him enough to share a house with him?

“Asshole.” I mumbled, as I started to walk back to the front of my house. I hated how he got me out of my professional state again for the second time today. I hated how he belittled me just because I wasn't like him, just because I liked to read and teach kids, whereas he probably broke into public facilities after hours on a regular basis.

“Wow.” He raised his voice after me. “Nice girl has a sassy side.”

After walking through the front door and allowing myself to think about what just happened, I suddenly felt horrible about myself. Everything Talon had said to purposely make me feel like crap had worked and now I didn't know what to do. The thing about our conversation that really got to me though was the part where he accused me of deliberately getting Axel denied just because he and I didn't get along. I knew that he really believed that about me which made me want to work around the situation even more because it wasn't true. Talon was going to believe the worst about me though and I was never going to be able to prove to him that it wasn't my fault his brother wasn't allowed in my class.

I walked to my bedroom and changed into my orange onesie before crawling into bed. The sheets supplied immediate comfort and I felt warm and cozy wrapped up in my blanket. As comfortable as I felt though, there was still an uneasiness in my stomach that I wanted desperately to get rid of. I hated how bad I felt for this.

Despite myself and how bad I would feel if I had to kick anyone out of my class, I couldn't help thinking about Annabelle and how I had wanted to bump her up a level anyways. The only problem with this was that she wouldn't be able to sign up until after Christmas and kicking her out of my class would mean that she couldn't participate in this season's competition. How does one go about removing a student from their class for no reason? I knew that doing this would mean that she would get free lessons in the intermediate class next season, but skating was her dream. She had ranted to me over and over about how excited she was to become a pro skater. If you think about it logically though, she really didn't belong in my beginners class and sending her to an intermediate level would definitely benefit her in the long run.

I bent over and grabbed my lap top from the floor beside my bed and turned it on. I watched as my desktop picture of me holding my gold medal from last year's competition appeared followed by the little icons, most of which I had no idea what they were. I logged onto my work email and sent out a message to Bree Spence, who was the teacher for the intermediate class, asking her if she had any available spots left for this season and if she was open to having a new student.

Then I typed up a class change notice to send to Annabelle's parents letting them know what exactly was going on. When I was happy with the letter I had written, I faxed it to my office so that I had it available if need be. I had class tomorrow, this time as a student, and if Bree messaged me back by then, I could pick up the letter on my way out and mail it out to Annabelle's parents. I ran over the pros and cons of my decision a couple more times deciding if it was really worth the trouble. In the end, I decided on what I thought was best for everyone. Of course I couldn't force Annabelle out of my class so if she decided she wanted to stay in it, then that's what was going to happen, but I held out a little hope that she would want to become more advanced. It would suck not having her in my class because she always found a way to make me smile, but this was better for her.

“Macy, wake up.” I groaned at the voice and pulled my blankets over my head. “You have school, kiddo.” Already? I shot my eyes open just as my dad grabbed the covers and yanked them off me. I stared at him grumpily while he laughed and handed me a glass of orange juice. I must have fallen asleep in the middle of my thoughts because my computer sat beside me on my bed still opened.

“Why are you annoying me before eight o'clock?” I asked through my yawn. My dad hardly ever came to wake me up since he was put on day shifts. He used to work nights but then the day guy quit or got fired or something and they asked my dad to fill in for him. He used to wake me up when he got home in the morning but ever since he took days, he's been too busy getting ready and rushing around to remember to wake me up at all.

“Let's not be grumpy,” he said smirking. “You're going to be late for school. I don't think your alarm went off, I usually hear it.” I looked over at my alarm clock and jumped up when I read the time. It was 7:45 which meant that I had fifteen minutes to have a shower and get ready if I wanted to make it to school on time. Actually subtract five minutes from that and add it to my drive there. That meant ten minutes to get ready and five minutes to drive.

“Dammit, dad!” I said jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I heard him laughing down the hallway as I jumped into the shower and quickly washed myself. After completing most of the things I needed to get done, it was 8:05 and I was officially late for first period. So with my hair still wet from my shower I hopped into my car and started my drive to school.

There is one thing that I never do when driving and that is speed. Speeding leads to accidents, accidents lead to injuries, injuries lead to death. I liked to avoid the whole accident part of driving as most people do, but today I was so focused on getting to school that I hadn't realized I was going twenty over the limit. Not until I saw blue and red flashing lights behind me telling me that I had to pull over.

I felt my heartbeat start to race rapidly as I watched through my side-view mirror as the police officer got out of his car with a little notepad, staring at my license plate, and writing down the number. I felt a lump rise in my throat as I thought about all the possibilities that could come from getting a speeding ticket. It would be on my record, I could lose my license for thirty days depending on how bad a mood the cop was in, I would have demerit points which I always prided myself on not having, and if the cop didn't take away my car, my parents sure would.

I felt a tap on my side window and immediately cursed myself for not rolling it down before. “Miss.” The cop – Anthony was what was written on his badge – said in that stern voice that cops always had when they were trying to show their authority. “Do you understand why I've pulled you over?” I nodded, trying to find my voice so I could speak to him. If I thought my heart was racing before, it was definitely threatening to pound its way out of my chest now.

“You are aware the limit on this road is fourty? Could I get you to show me your license and registration please?” He said this like it was a question which I didn't understand because either way he was getting my license and registration whether I liked it or not. I felt the lump in my throat begin to rise and I tried really hard to fight back my tears. I couldn't lose my license, my parents would have a field day and I wouldn't be able to get to work.

“Of course,” My voice cracked as I spoke and when I handed him my license he gave me a look of concern before walking back over to his vehicle to get something. Now, if I was the regular Macy Crawford who always took responsibility for her actions and was never late for class, my next thoughts wouldn't have even ran through my head at all. So far though, I have not been that Macy Crawford and the next thought that ran through my head was Gee, he looked concerned when my voice cracked. I wonder how far I can push this until he lets me off the hook.

“Here you go, Miss Crawford.” He said handing me back my license. Without meaning to I immediately started crying. When I had decided to cry my way through this, I had expected the tears to come later. Not now, when I was trying to act mature and responsible.

“Please don't give me a ticket!” I said through my sobs. “I never speed, I swear! It's just,” It's just what? I was going to be late for school because I accidentally forgot to set my alarm clock? “my dog was acting weird last night and when I woke up he was on the ground shaking so I had to bring him to the vet. Then when I got home I was late getting ready and my hair is still wet as you can see, and I have to pick up my little sister from my grandma’s house and drive her to daycare. And I still have to get to school!” My dog died? I had to pick up my little sister from my grandma's house? Hi mom and dad, did you know we have a shaking dog and you gave birth to a child that you forgot about?

“If I don't give you this ticket, how are you going to learn your lesson?” He said trying to sound as gentle as he could. This time I burst into tears on purpose and secretly crossed my fingers praying to god that this worked. How could this be happening to me? See, this is why I don't speed. Speeding leads to trouble and I don't like trouble. I like having a clear driving record. If this didn't work I will have lost my spotless attendance and my clear driving record in a matter of ten minutes.

“I've learned! Believe me, I'm thinking of punishments for myself as we speak.” I sniffled to add to the effect and watched as he sighed heavily. Yes! It was working! I immediately told myself that tricking a cop into not giving you a ticket was a terrible thing to do and that I will never do it or anything like it again, but part of me was giving myself props for the awesome improve. skills.

“Alright. This time I'm letting you off with a warning, but I have your information so I'll know if you do it again.” I nodded my head so many times and so fast, feeling so much relief, that he probably thought I had gone mental. Well, even more mental than he thought I was before.

“Thank you so much Officer! I appreciate it and I'll never do it again. I promise!” I can't even explain just how relieved I felt at that moment. It made going into class late seem like not such a bad thing and the class change situation seem less horrible. I was just so happy that I wasn't getting anything written on my permanent driving record and that I was going to be able to keep my car.

“You have a good day now, Miss. Crawford and stick to the limit.” He said before tapping the hood of my car and walking away. I waited for him to get in his car and drive away before I started up my car and headed to school. It was 8:30 now and I knew that there really wasn't a point to going to class anymore, but I had never missed a day of school and so my stubborn side kicked in and off to class I went.

When I pulled into the parking lot and got out of my car, I started running. I don't even know why since I was already over half an hour late and it probably didn't matter if I added a couple of minutes to that. I opened the door to the classroom, grateful that Mrs. Freedman had already finished her lesson and the whole class was busy working on something, and walked over to Mrs. Freedman to explain myself. I told her the story from beginning to end, leaving out the part about getting pulled over by the cop, and felt more relaxed when she said she'd have to mark me late but she believed my reasoning. The benefits of never missing class were that your teacher usually always believed your excuses.

I walked over to my seat at the back, pulling out my binder, and looking at the sheets of paper Mrs. Freedman had handed me just now. I scanned the first paragraph that said we were to work with a partner and that this was a presentation and written report combined. The presentation had to be thirty minutes long and the report ten pages long and the topic was to have something to do with a global issue.

“Looks like we're partners.” I heard someone say. I saw a shadow lingering over my desk and looked up to see Carson Whitford looking at me with his bright blue eyes. Here we go I thought Macy Crawford's first punishment for lying to the cop. Why Anthony why? Why couldn't you have been mean and stubborn and just given me the ticket? What kind of cop are you? Making me deal with the second biggest jerk in school when I have the first one living in my house. I see what you're doing. I get it. I will never ever speed again, I promise.

This was not going to be fun.
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I was going to wait to post another chapter, but I got excited so here you go. :)