The Best Year - 4. Chapter 4

Mom led us through the living room to the kitchen. I saw that she moved the seldomly used table out so that everyone had a seat at the table. The plates were already set out along with the silver and what looked like a pitcher of lemonade. Dad was already sitting, but rose to shake Luke’s hand when Luke greeted him. I saw Mom smile and I rolled my eyes as I sat across the table from Dad.

“I hope spaghetti is okay, Luke,” Mom said, not even looking at me for any sign of approval.

“It’s fine Mrs. Forrest,” Luke answered sitting down at the table beside me. The house wasn’t large enough for a formal dining room, but the kitchen was open and bright enough that it made dinners easy and we didn’t feel cramped. The sliding doors to the small backyard let in a lot of light during sunny days. We used to have a small pool out back, but now that I did all of my swimming at the YMCA, the only thing back there now was a barely used grill.

“Call me Grace,” Mom said smiling as she sat down on Dad’s left.

When I reached for the salad bowl I heard Mom clear her throat. When I looked up at her she pointed towards Luke smiling apologetically. I never really saw her act like this before, but she didn’t really care much about being polite to her sister Aundrea, who would always comment on the cooking with a grimace anyway.

“Right,” I said, frowning. “Do you want some salad Luke?”

“Yes, thank you,” he responded smirking after Mom smiled and turned to say something to Dad. I slid the bowl of salad over to Luke and watched him scoop some onto his plate. Then he gently slid it back over to me.

“How’s school going Luke?” Dad asked, holding out his hand for the salad bowl. I sighed picking up the bowl and holding it out for him to take. When he accepted it he smiled eying Mom for what looked like permission to go next.

“Good,” Luke answered glancing over at me, “nothing very exciting ever happens there.”

“Sounds like a nice learning environment,” Dad commented, handing the salad bowl to Mom as I ignored her glare as I piled spaghetti onto my plate then I grabbed a piece of garlic bread with my fingers, even though there was a serving tong nestled on top of them.

“Sounds boring,” I offered using my fork to begin rolling spaghetti onto it.

“Jackson,” Mom hissed and I looked up to see her holding Dad’s hand. “Grace first.”

“We never…” I started and I watched as her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Fine.”

“You say it Jackson,” Mom said and I shot her a glare then looked down at the table to see Luke’s outstretched hand. I glanced up at him and he looked to be chewing on his lip to keep from outright laughing. When I grabbed hold of his hand I looked away feeling him squeeze mine.

“Dear God,” I groaned and I heard what sounded like a poor excuse to fake a sneeze to hide a snicker from Luke. I glanced up from my plate to see his eyes tightly shut then I glanced at Mom who was peeking at me with one eye open urging me to continue. “Thank you for this food Mom bought from the store and…”

“Jackson!” Mom hissed as Luke couldn’t fight back his laughter.

“I don’t know how to do this!” I argued wanting to let go of Luke’s hand, he felt warm and I felt my palms begin to sweat. I didn’t like being put on the spot, especially since Mom was just putting on a show for Luke, something I didn’t even expect out of them to begin with. She never went through this much trouble when Derek or Toby stayed over for dinner - we ate around the coffee table and talked sports and watched television.

“At least try Jack,” Dad said and I watched as everyone closed their eyes.

“Thanks for this food we’re about to eat, amen?” I said hearing the question in my voice. I waited for Mom to correct me, but she just let go of Dad’s hand and we all started eating. I jerked my hand from Luke’s and slid it under the table to wipe the sweat off on my shorts.

“Thank you,” Mom said looking at me.

“Can I go eat in the living room where we usually eat?” I asked, smirking when Mom nearly dropped her fork to glare at me.

“No, you may not,” Mom answered and I rolled my eyes.

“We’re missing whatever you usually make me watch on Sundays when I’m home,” I argued and she sat back in her chair and glanced at Luke, who was watching me and not looking at her. She narrowed her eyes and glanced at Luke. When he looked over at her after an uneasy silence fell on the table she smiled and went back to eating.

“So Henry and Cindy seemed very optimistic that you guys can start mowing and moving out the old and damaged playground equipment,” Dad said and I saw Mom’s shoulders relax and she finally looked like she was going to begin eating.

“I think we are ready for that,” Luke answered and I watched him chop his spaghetti into smaller pieces that he could just shovel into his mouth. I had already slurped down a couple of bites and made a point to use my fingers to wipe the excess sauce off of my lips and chin and lick them before wiping them on the napkin.

“Feel free to drop by and borrow our lawn mower,” Dad said grabbing his glass of lemonade about to take a drink.

“I think little Russ Taylor’s Mom wouldn’t like you loaning out her son without her knowing,” I countered looking at Dad. “He’s our lawn mower, do we even own one?”

“It is in the garage Jackson,” Dad countered, shaking his head. “Under the Christmas decorations.”

“We should have enough, Dad was able to find a tractor,” Luke said, “but thank you Mr. Forrest.”

“Craig,” Dad commented and Luke nodded and politely smiled.

“Well I’m full,” I announced looking down at my empty plate. I patted my stomach praying for a burp, but I couldn’t manage one as I stood from the table. I at least grabbed my plate when Mom shot me another glare and walked it over to the sink. I gave it a quick rinse to wash away excess sauce and crumbs left behind from the garlic bread before I shoved it into the dishwasher.

“I should really get going,” Luke said after I left him at the table. I could see him finally looking uncomfortable now that I was about to walk around the corner and into the living room. “Evening services usually don’t last the full hour and I have homework.”

“Well it is nice meeting you outside of church,” Mom said offering her hand across the table to him. “Come around more often if you wish, we don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” Luke said, “I might after Jackson isn’t grounded, I’d hate to get him into any more trouble.”

“Oh please,” Mom said, waving her hand laughing. “He isn’t grounded, he’s too old to be grounded.”

“Well, I’ll see you next Saturday, thanks for the spaghetti. It was delicious,” he said and I noticed my mouth hanging open and I closed it before he stood and looked over towards me.

“Just leave that, I’ll get it,” Mom ordered when Luke reached for his plate and glass of lemonade. “Jackson be a dear and see him out.”

“Okay,” I said and I pointed to the front door. “There’s the door.”

“Jackson!” Mom hissed and I heard the plates clatter and I sighed and led Luke through the living room and I held the front door open for him.

When I closed it behind us he turned on the porch laughing and shaking his head. I crossed my arms and leaned back against it, but even I was surprised when Mom said that I was no longer grounded. I expected my punishment to be doubled for running out on them this morning, although I didn’t really get anywhere. She wouldn’t have lied to Luke though, she knew I would just tell him the truth if she had.

“Are you gonna thank me?” Luke asked, cocking his eyebrow.

“For what?” I asked knowing exactly what he was talking about, but I wasn’t going to give him the benefit. “For making dinner a living hell?”

“It was pretty amusing, I never heard someone say Dear God like they were standing in front of a firing squad before,” Luke joked pulling his keys from his front pocket. “Nice prayer, you might need to work on it a bit though.”

“Whatever,” I said, trying not to smile.

“So what are you going to do with your freedom?” He asked and I shook my head.

“I have a feeling my freedom is only for when you’re involved,” I answered and I noticed that he looked hopeful. “So probably nothing.”

“Well at least you won’t get into trouble doing nothing, I think,” he said, but his voice no longer held a lot of the amusement it had before.

“Thank you though,” I said before I could stop myself. “For at least trying to get me off the hook.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, “and hey, maybe you’ll get bored enough to stop doing nothing.”

“Yeah,” I said and he nodded and turned walking down the stairs. I opened the door and walked inside the house not turning to look at him as I shut the door behind me.

“Well aside from that dreadful prayer and your rudeness Jackson,” Mom started as she entered the living room followed by Dad. “It was a pleasant dinner.”

“I missed the McDonalds that we usually eat on Sundays,” I countered rolling my eyes as I slid down onto the couch. “So now that I’m no longer grounded, where’s my keys? I'll be over at Toby’s.”

“You’re still grounded,” Mom said as she sat across from me in Dad’s usual chair. “Just conditionally.”

“So only if I’m hanging out with people you approve of?” I asked, crossing my arms, getting angry even though I knew this was coming.

“Of course,” she answered leaning back into the chair. “I still think you need better friends, Luke will be your only chance at getting out of this house for a while, so you can either accept that or be even more miserable.”

“Fine,” I said as I stood and walked to the bottom of the stairs. “I have homework to do, too.”

The next day at school sucked. I had to wait for the bus and the driver nearly drove past the house before he got stopped. Mom obviously still thought I was a flight risk. I was, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. The only thing worse was getting off the bus at the high school. Looking around I dropped my head and hurried out of the line of busses dropping kids off - I would usually roll in about ten minutes before the first bell rang. Now I was here about thirty minutes early and I had to sit in the cafeteria for the morning dismissal.

“Hey dude,” Connor greeted not long after I sat down where I usually ate lunch. He was a senior as well, someone else that I knew since Kindergarten.

“Hey,” I greeted nodding my head as he sat down across from me. I noticed his eyes drift toward the collar of my shirt, I had three buttons undone and I just remembered the hickies. They were already starting to fade, but I only smirked shrugging my shoulders.

“I heard Welker has you for three days of in school suspension,” he said and I smiled. “For what happened in gym, that was fucking epic.”

“Yeah,” I said knowing he wasn’t there to see it first hand. He was likely one of the first ones to get the video though. He was on the shitty football team with Derek and Toby, but we had never really been friends. “Your Mom works with mine, right, as a manager?”

“Yeah,” he answered, seeming pleased that I made the connection.

“Judy?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow. I noticed that his face fell and he looked around for any excuse not to be at the table now. “Why the fuck would you send that to her?”

“It was an accident,” he answered, “it sent too quick for me to retrieve it.”

“Whatever, man,” I countered, “you got me into a lot of shit.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said and I nodded for him to stand and leave the table and he nodded his head and left quickly, nearly running into Allison who wasn’t paying any attention to him.

“There you are stranger!” She squealed and slid into the seat next to me. I reached over and took her hand smiling as she pulled me close enough for her to lean on my shoulder.

“Daddy probably has a camera trained on me,” I said glancing around the cafeteria. “You sure you want to be caught snuggling?”

“I don’t care,” she said laughing as she dug her elbow into my side. “You have that shitty in school suspension so I won’t get to see you in English or Gym.”

“I know,” I said smiling. “Toby and Derek probably want a rematch.”

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed rolling her eyes. “I do want you as my prom date, he’ll take that away next.”

“We can have a fucking better prom ourselves anyway,” I argued and she shook her head her longer bangs falling into her face. I reached over with my free hand and brushed them away. She smiled and kissed me on the lips. It surprised me at first, but I had missed her over the long weekend. Her lips tasted like strawberries.

“I tried to call you a couple of times Saturday and Sunday,” she whispered after breaking the kiss.

“Mom took my phone,” I shrugged, “punishment for the hickies.”

“Sorry,” she said smiling. “I wish I remembered that night, I bet I would have enjoyed it.”

“Sloppy drunk sex in a tent?” I asked, smirking, “Are you really that kind of girl?”

“Maybe,” she answered winking. “And we didn’t have sex.”

“I know,” I added feeling a rush of relief every time I thought about that night. I really could have ruined both our lives by not stopping us.

“And besides, I’m on the pill,” she added and I groaned and half-heartedly tried to squirm away from her.

“I don’t want to know about your lady junk,” I countered smiling. “Only thing I need to know is where and when.”

“Shut up, idiot,” she said as she slapped me on the shoulder. “You might need to button your polo though, those things are still pretty visible.”

“I know,” I said and left my shirt unbuttoned. That’s when I noticed that she was wearing more clothes than a girl ought to wear in late summer around here. Not nearly a turtleneck, but just as boring. When she saw me checking her out she blushed and looked away.

“Well at least Toby and Derek will be in there too,” she said glancing at the clock on her cell. “Time to get going.”

“Maybe I’ll skip,” I said as she pulled me up with her.

“Don’t make me walk you there myself, you’re making it to prom Jackson Forrest,” she countered, “but my class is also on the other side of campus, so you better behave.”

“Don’t want Daddy to see us together?” I asked and she elbowed me rolling her eyes.

“I have a reputation to protect,” she answered, “and do you want him to see us together?”

“No,” I responded and we separated as the bell rang and people started filing out of the cafeteria. Toby and Derek will be sliding into their chairs just as the tardy bell rang so I slowly made my way to the classroom I’ll be seeing for the next three days hoping it wasn’t full of losers.

When I arrived I was the first one and chose a seat by the window, in the middle of the row so Toby and Derek could sit in front and behind me. Then I turned and looked out the window at everyone arriving just in time to get to their classes. We were on the ground floor not far from the front office, this room was the old Spanish room, but the teacher requested a larger room after her class became popular. She liked to cook spanish menus for her classes and that beat the hell out of anything the cafeteria served.

Toby and Derek shot into the room just as the bell rang ahead of Principal Welker. He had a stack of papers and he slid them onto the desk as he looked around the small room. We weren’t the only ones in there, but I didn’t want to pay any attention to the other people. They had all made a point to stare at me as they filed into the room.

“Alright,” Welker said, silencing the whispers. “Here is the class work that your teachers sent, get to work. Coach Tate will be in shortly.”

“Shit,” Derek hissed from just behind me. “Not Dad.”

“Mr. Tate, what did you say?” Welker asked, cocking a bushy eyebrow. Looking at him, I couldn’t help thinking that he looked nervous being in this room with us. There were only seven or so people, but it looked like he was afraid of losing control over us at any moment.

“Not a thing, sir,” Derek answered and I glanced over my shoulder to see him slinking down into his desk as Welker passed out our packets of busy work.

When he finished, Derek’s Dad walked into the room, his arms crossed over his chest. He used to be a lot broader and intimidating, but now that he was our swimming coach, as well as one of the assistants on the football team, he couldn’t juggle the weight training with the football players like he used to. He was still pretty big though and those stone gray eyes could make the best of us feel uneasy.

“Get to work,” Coach ordered as Welker patted him on the arm and quickly left the room. Coach then slammed his briefcase down on the desk and opened it. “I have some extra work for you punks, this is my room, when you are here you will shut up and do as you’re told.”

“Fuck you,” someone grunted from the other side of the room. I glanced over to see a hairy faced, greasy haired dude glaring over the top of his shorter friend’s head. They all smirked and I glanced back at Coach to see his arms flex and the veins pop out on his neck.

“What is your name, son?” He asked, walking around the front of the desk, he leaned on the front of it and waited for the kid to answer. He looked to be in his twenties, but I knew no one around here would stick out high school that long if they couldn’t graduate on time.

“Look on the damn roll,” he answered and Coach grabbed the clipboard and snapped it in half. I leaned back smiling as I ignored the stack of papers on my desk to watch the show.

“What is your name?” He asked, taking a few steps towards the row where they sat. None of his friends were smirking now.

“I know you’re gonna take it easy on those fucks over there,” the dude said and I turned to see him waving his hand at the three of us on the other side of the room.

“Watch your mouth kid,” Coach growled, his face reddened and the vein I only saw when I was being an absolute shit in the pool popped up on his forehead. “I don’t have the patience for your nonsense.”

“You can’t do anything to me,” the boy countered, crossing his arms.

“Get up,” Coach said, “all of you, now.”

“Fuck…”

“I said get up!” Coach yelled and Derek shot to his feet. I snickered as Toby and I stood and we all waited for the greasy haired dude to finally stand. “Follow me.”

“Do we need our papers?” Toby asked and when Coach Tate wheeled on him Toby dropped his packet of papers back onto his desk.

“You first,” Coach said, pointing to me as I was closest to the exit out into the hallway. “To the gym.”

“Alright Coach,” I said and we all filed out in a line, with him bringing up the rear just behind the dude that was too stupid to give Coach his name. I could hear Coach talking on his cell to someone and when I turned the corner to the gym I saw Principal Welker already waiting for us. The front offices were closer to the gym than we were, his eyes were narrowed as he studied us.

“Mr. Tuley,” Welker said as we all stopped in front of him. “You just lost all privileges for a semester, your parking, driving, you will not be allowed admittance to sporting events until the Spring Semester starts, another word out of line from you will lose you the Spring as well.”

“Get inside and clean the gym,” Coach ordered and Welker opened the door and let us all file inside. When we looked around, the gym seemed clean enough, but I knew we would be going to be thorough.

By lunchtime my arms ached from scraping gum and whatever else was stuck on the underside of the bleachers. Welker stood watch with Coach as we all cleaned, the threat of losing spring privileges seemed to at least shut up the dumbass that got us into this mess. Glancing across the gym he was on a ladder cleaning the backboard on the basketball goal. Two of his friends were steadying the ladder, the rest were picking up stray trash the janitors overlooked while Derek, Toby, and I used small metal scrapers. So far it has been far worse than any of the work I did on the park.

“That fucker needs his ass kicked,” Derek whispered and I smirked when he looked over his shoulder to make sure his father wasn’t anywhere nearby.

“This is better than paperwork,” I shrugged, scraping another piece of hardened gum off the bleacher. When it finally gave way I used a small brush and dustpan to wrangle it into a plastic bag.

“We still have to do that shit,” Toby answered, “and our asses will be running all practice.”

“I’m glad I don’t see him until Saturday,” I countered smiling. “Maybe making bitches out of the two of you will satisfy him and he’ll go easy on me.”

“Shut up,” Toby hissed, shoving my shoulder. I fell backwards onto the bleachers and the crash echoed through the gym.

“Forrest!” Coach bellowed from just beyond the basketball goal.

“I tripped,” I answered and he shook his head and turned back to Principal Welker.

“Alright let’s go back to the classroom,” Coach Tate yelled glancing at his watch.

After putting out dustpans and junk back into the janitor’s closet I started back across the gym with Derek and Toby on either side of me. I could hear the other guys whispering behind us, but Coach was watching us as we made our way towards him. Principal Welker had disappeared, probably back to his office.

“Look at the fag boy in the middle,” someone said behind me. I saw Toby and Derek tense beside me and I shook my head.

“Don’t do anything,” I whispered, keeping my head straight forward. I never paid much attention to guys like them. They were always so far away from us in the halls and cafeteria that we barely interacted at all. Only in the off chance of assigned seats, but I didn’t have any classes with any of them - I didn’t even know their names.

“I bet the other two take turns with him,” whispered Tuley and I could feel my face getting hot.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up,” I hissed glancing over my shoulder.

“Jack,” Toby said, but then I felt a heavy boot graze across the back of my shoe. It was just enough to knock me off balance, but Toby and Derek caught me before I fell.

“Do that again fucker and I’ll kick your ass,” Derek said, turning around to look at the four guys behind us. Tuley only cracked his knuckles and smirked.

“Tate!” Coach yelled and Derek spun back around and kept walking.

“Pussy,” Tuley said and this time he tripped up Derek. Being larger than me, I only slowed Derek’s fall, but he caught himself and quickly pushed off the gym floor. I still had my hand on his shoulder when he turned and I heard the muffled thud of Derek’s fist connecting. I heard a sharp breath involuntarily rush from Tuley’s lungs and I turned to see him doubling over as the other three rushed towards Derek.

Toby didn’t waste any time as Derek was slammed into by the other three. He jumped onto the back of one of them and wrapped his arms around the dude’s neck. Tuley was quickly recovering from having his breath knocked out of him when I grabbed a second guy and dragged him off of Derek as he had the third already on the ground punching him. The dude looked like he was trying to get away as I kicked the legs out of the guy I was wrestling with.

Then everything went dark as my head snapped backwards, I didn’t even see the punch coming. I blinked a few times before my vision cleared enough for me to realize I was on the ground. The dude I was fighting with was no longer in my grasp, but I could only watch and anticipate the pain as his boot connected with my stomach.

He was about to kick again when Coach Tate ran into the middle of the fight. His broad arms grabbed the shoulders of Tuley and the guy kicking me. He yelled for Derek and Toby to stop beating on the guys they had pinned to the gym floor. Toby quickly stopped and then helped Derek to his feet and both of them walked over to me and helped me to mine.

I looked to see that Toby’s lower lip was swollen and bloody and Derek’s right eye was already red and swelling. He’d have a black eye by tomorrow. I could feel blood trickling down my chin and when I looked down at my polo the collar was ripped and blood had dripped over the front.
Coach kept his grip on Tuley and the other guy as he waited for the other two on the ground to recover enough to stand. Then he led us all to the Welker’s office.

Welker was seated at his desk looking over the sponsored field trip schedule when Coach Tate led us into the room. In the small office we all crowded around the walls as far away from one another as we could get.

“Coach, what happened?” Welker asked, pushing up from his desk.

“These four started a fight,” Coach answered, shoving Tuley and the bastard that kicked me just ahead of him.

“Taking up for your little boy?” Tuley asked and Coach shot a glare at the back of his head.

“Enough,” Principal Welker ordered and for the first time I had a tiny bit of respect for him. “Coach go retrieve the nurse, tell her to bring the first aid kits.”

Coach left without saying a word, but he slammed the office door behind him and I watched Principal Welker cross his arms. He was a smaller guy and I wondered if he would be able to break up a fight in his small office, he didn’t seem capable.

“I would suspend every one of you,” he said, shaking his head. “But that would give you all a break.”

“Mr. Welker, we didn’t start this,” Derek said and I looked over to see that his eye was nearly swollen shut.

“I said enough,” he countered as he retrieved his chair and sat back down.

Shortly after he sat down Coach returned with Mrs. Shay the school nurse. She was an old, retired nurse. Her hands were boney and always cold. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, but as the day progressed it fell, that and she walked like a chicken, always bobbing her head with each step she took. She already had her gloves on and she put the first aid kits on the desk and walked over to the poor dude Derek had pinned underneath him. He looked like he was regretting the whole thing, but he shot Mrs. Shay a glare when she put her hand on his face.

“Mr. Forrest, I think it best just to call your parents to come get you,” Principal Welker said and I nodded as he picked up his phone. “Coach Tate, you're excused to take your son and Mr. Marks home.”

“I can take all three of them home, sir,” Coach said and I saw Principal Welker hit the button to summon the secretary.

“Yes Mr. Welker?” The Secretary’s screechy voice rang through the small intercom on his desk.

“On Jackson Forrest’s file does it have Coach Tate as an allowable pick-up?” Principal Welker asked and I smiled already knowing the answer.

“He is, sir,” She answered and he quickly thanked her and let his finger off the button.

“Now,” Principal Welker said as Mrs. Shay finished with the first dumbass and started on the second one. “What happened?”

“That guy,” I said pointing to Tuley, “called me a fag then tripped me.”

“Language,” Principal Welker sighed, but pulled out a clean sheet of paper. “Is that true Tuley?”

“Nope,” Tuley responded smiling, but when I turned to see Principal Welker he just shook his head and continued to write.

“I don’t believe you,” he said looking back up at us. “Who threw the first punch?”

“I did,” Derek answered, “after one of them intentionally tripped me.”

“I see,” he said, still looking at Tuley. “Coach, what did you see?”

“I saw Derek hit the floor and then get up and punch Mr. Tuley in the stomach, the other three then jumped on him and Mr. Marks and Mr. Forrest got involved. Mr. Tuley punched Mr. Forrest, then the big redheaded boy kicked Mr. Forrest.”

“But you are the instigator Mr. Tuley,” Principal Welker said, cocking an eyebrow. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Nothing,” Tuley hissed, crossing his arms. “You’ll believe them assholes over me anyway.”

“I’ll believe what I think is the truth,” Principal Welker countered leaning back in his chair. “You are the only one not saying anything.”

“Whatever,” he said and I turned to study him. I could tell that he likely had a file in Welker’s folder a lot thicker than mine. His arms were still crossed, but instead of glaring at Welker he was looking straight ahead, not really at anyone or anything. He didn’t have any cuts or bruises on him like the rest of us.

Welker excused Derek, Toby, and I after a short uneasy silence and we waited outside in the hallway for Derek’s Dad to follow us out to take us all home. Derek leaned against the wall, his knuckles red and cracked from the fight. He waved Mrs. Shay off when she came around to look him over and Coach told her he would handle it when they got home so she went on to the next guy.

When Coach finalled stepped out into the hallway he snapped his fingers and we fell in behind him as he led us around the corner and out the front exits. I squinted against the brightness of the sun, my head still aching as we followed him to his designated parking spot. Derek always rode to school with him, but Toby’s car would be parked out back in the student parking lot.

“Coach,” Toby said, “my car.”

“Call your dad when we get to the house,” he said, “you dumbasses didn’t have to fight back.”

“They started it,” Derek groaned as we got to the gray Volvo. Derek slid into the passenger side as I walked around the back of the car to the back seat behind the driver’s side.

It was a short drive to Derek’s house, one that I was just as used to seeing as my own home. The two story white paneled house was built in the 80s, but had been remodeled a lot between then and now. I just knew though, after this I didn’t even expect Luke to be able to get me out of this. I wasn’t going to take Mom up on the offer anyway, but I definitely wouldn’t be seeing much of Toby, Derek, and the girls outside of school any time soon. At least this time, I knew I wasn’t completely to blame, but I also knew Mom and Dad wouldn’t see it that way.