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I smiled faintly.
No, he’s just lost his wife and his lifelong dream for his son.
I went out and the phone in the pocket of my dark blue uniform pants rang. My shoulders sagged when I saw the number.
“River Whitmore?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Deborah from the office at Central High.”
“Yes, hi, Deborah.” I sat on the bench outside the main office, blinking into the bright sunshine of that March afternoon. “I drove Amelia to school myself this morning. I watched her walk in.”
She sighed. “Yes, her teachers reported her present for her morning classes, but it would seem as if she never came back from lunch.”
“Shit.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” Deborah’s voice turned hesitant. “River…is it possible that your father might be able to exert some discipline? I know you’re doing your best, but…”
“But I’m just her brother.”
Over the last year, Amelia had started to give up and the school had given up on my dad. He missed parent-teacher conferences and forgot to return their calls. One of Amelia’s teachers brought in her Honda for an oil change and we got to talking. From then on, it was my phone number the office staff had on file.
“Her Algebra teacher reports that if Amelia doesn’t pass her midterm exam, she’s in danger of flunking the entire class and must retake it in summer school.”
I grit my teeth. “I understand. I’ll talk to her tonight.”
And take away her phone.
I’d already disabled the WiFi in the house after nine p.m. since she’d stopped doing homework in favor of watching TikTok videos.
“Thank you, River,” Deborah said, pity lacing her voice. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”
“No problem. I’ll handle it.”
I hung up and, as usual, I checked for a text or call I might’ve missed.
Nothing.
The phone went back in my pocket and I got back to work.
An hour later, as Julio and I stood together discussing a diagnostic on a ’17 Mazda, a white Jeep Rubicon screeched to a stop at the intersection in front of the shop. Mikey Grimaldi was behind the wheel, Chance Blaylock riding shotgun and Donte Weatherly laughing in the back seat. I supposed they were home from college for a visit to compare their football highlights.
They all stopped when they caught sight of me. Chance said something that made Mikey snort laughter, but Donte’s smile looked stiff and didn’t touch his eyes. The light changed and the Jeep’s tires squealed as they drove off.
“What’s that all about?” Julio asked.
He knew nothing about my personal life. Mostly because I didn’t have one.
“I played football with them in high school.” I heaved a breath and let it out. “Then they found out I had a boyfriend.”
Julio pursed his lips, thinking. “So they got jealous?”
A genuine laugh burst out of me. “Something like that.”
Julio grinned and chucked my shoulder. “Come on. We have half an hour until our next appointment. That Chevy is calling.”
That night at dinner, Amelia picked at her curry noodles. I’d stopped on the way home to pick up takeout from her favorite Thai place. Maybe it wasn’t great parenting to reward her for flunking math and ditching class but getting pissed at her never worked and I always hated myself afterward. Losing my temper was like a small hole bursting out of a dam. If I didn’t stop it up quick, more holes would break through, more emotion pouring out until I drowned in it.
