Page 7 of Ginjuh

“Ginjuh.” My dad warned me.

“Well, what’s wrong with Grandpa and his farm?” I asked, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “It’s nice. You guys don’t complain about all the corn and tomatoes and okra and—”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, Ginjuh.” My dad answered quickly when my mom spun around, shooting her a look that silenced her. “It’s nice that you and Mr. Pelton get along so well. Sure helped you fill out, working on the farm, didn’t it?”

“It did.” I nodded.

“Well, then, there’s nothing wrong with it.” My dad shrugged and sat down at the table as the coffee maker started spitting out the last of its brew cycle.

Mom kept her eyes on the coffee pot, aware that dad had laid down the final word on Grandpa, the farm, the future corn maze, and me working with Grandpa. Dad had a silent way of making everyone stop bickering and realize that we were probably not going to see eye to eye on a lot of things—at least when it came to my mom and me. When everyone sees something differently, sometimes you have to agree to disagree and just be friendly. That was my home life in a nutshell. It often made me wish that I had been able to live with Grandpa instead of my parents. At least he knew about respecting other people.

“I’m going to Jay’s.” I sighed, giving up.

“First day of school tomorrow.” Mom said simply.

“Yeah.” I agreed.

“Be home at a reasonable hour, Ginjuh,” Dad added.

I almost…almost…screamed at him for using the nickname I hated.

“All right.”

Then I turned away, leaving my mom and dad in the kitchen to begin their Sunday without me—which was a pretty common occurrence in our household. If you found me at my house on the weekends, hanging out with my parents, it had to be a special occasion. Spending time with Grandpa or with Jay always took priority over spending time with my parents. I guess that’s pretty normal for any teenager—not wanting to spend time with their parents, right?

Ten minutes later, I had parked my car in front of Jay’s house and was knocking on the front door after having sent a text to let him know I was outside. I was soon granted admittance and I was stepping into his living room, once again, glad for the air-conditioned environment. The day was warming up quickly.

“Wanna play some PS4, man?” Jay slapped me on the back as he led me further into the house. “I got a new game you have gotta try, Ginjuh.”

“Dude…”

“Zach.” He rolled his eyes.

“Is that what we’re going to do with our final summer vacation day?” I smiled wickedly. “Sit in your janky-ass living room and stare at a T.V. screen, dude?”

“Janky-ass?” He pretended to be offended as he plopped down in the large sofa in front of the T.V. where a game was already loading on the screen. “I’ll have you know it is busted-ass, my good man.”

I rolled my eyes with a smile and lowered myself to the couch.

“What else you got going on, man?” He shrugged as he picked up a controller from the cushion beside him.

The guy made a valid argument.

“Besides,” he smiled, “I’ll pay for the pizza later.”

I watched him for a moment, then finally relented.

“Fine,” I said. “But I get to play first.”

Jay smiled and shoved the controller into my hands.

Sometimes you have the most wonderful adventures with friends—other times you play video games and eat pizza. It’s called balance.