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Whatever this was, it didn’t look or sound good. I made eye contact with Morgan as he left the room, but his eyes didn’t tell me that he knew anything. But the fact that Chase hadn’t made any sort of noise or suggestion that I was in trouble gave me the feeling that Dad or Mom had said something to them.
“Who were you on the phone with?” I asked again as soon as I heard Chase and Morgan climbing the stairs.
“Your trainer called, sweetie,” Mom said as she set the phone on the base.
Marty.
“He said you were very distracted today and he was concerned about you,” Mom said.
I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up to my face to wipe sweat away.
“What’s going on, Hollis?” Dad asked.
“Nothing. I told Marty I was distracted because of Patrick.”
“What’s going on with Patrick? Is he okay?” Mom asked.
Not really. His older brother uses him as a punching bag, and his dad doesn’t give a fuck. In fact, his dad gives him prescription painkillers to deal with what his stepbrother does to him. His dad or stepmom never seem to have time for him.
I could have rattled all of that off, but I didn’t.
“Patrick’s grades are in the dumpster and he might fail a few classes. He’s tired all the time and…” I flopped down at the kitchen table. “And I just worry about him,” I said honestly.
My parents both sat down at the table with me.
“Is he still eating lunch and working out with you?” Dad asked.
“Yes. He’s eating and working out with me. He always has lunch money and gets food.”
“He’s not in any of your classes, right?” Mom asked.
I shook my head. While I was in advanced classes, Patrick was in regular classes. Nothing remedial, but nothing advanced. We weren’t even in the same gym class.
“Do you suspect that he’s using drugs?” Dad asked.
Not anymore.
I shook my head and shrugged at the same time.
“Hollis, you can try to help Patrick stay focused on his schoolwork. Invite him over after school and tutor him. We’ll have Morgan help too,” Mom suggested.
I sighed. Morgan and I had tried this, but Patrick kept falling asleep. Though, maybe it would be different now that he wasn’t taking those shitty pills.
“Would it make you feel better if we called his parents and talked to them?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know,” I said in all honesty.
“Well, we need to figure something out, son. If you’re distracted by something going on with your friends, it’s going to interfere with your TCF training. You have to be able to focus,” Dad added.
I nodded. I needed to talk to Patrick and find out what was going on.
“Let me talk to Patrick this week at school and see if he’ll let Morgan and me tutor him,” I said.
“Alright, sweetheart. And I’ll be happy to call his parents if you want me to.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll let you know.”
Tonight was another night where I was restless and my thoughts were all over the place. As I settled down to go to sleep, I tossed my Worry Wart up in the air and caught it, over and over… and over.
