Thanks to a blowout in the car seat on the way to the school, I ended up being late for the meeting. I’d forgotten baby girl’s spare outfit, so she was wearing a clean t-shirt of mine I’d bought just before heading to the school. Meanwhile, I was forced to keep wearing the one covered in spit up and baby food, my cut smeared with grubby finger prints, and I was pretty sure there was a stain on my pants from when I picked her up and put her on my hip before realizing she’d shit through the outfit she was wearing. The diaper bag was overflowing with toys, diapers, trash from food pouches, snacks, everything I might need except for a spare outfit, so we both looked a little ridiculous when we skidded to a stop outside the classroom where Jasper and the teacher waited.
Jasper took one look at me and rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”
I grimaced. “It was either this or my leather jacket. At least this is more comfortable for her.”
The teacher stood, taking us both in with a sharp frown. “Mr. Fletcher, I presume?”
“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” I replied, coming into the room to join them. The teacher was behind her desk, while Jasper was slouching in one of the chairs facing it, his now familiar scowl on his face.
“I’m Simone Brooks, Jasper’s math teacher.”
She offered me her hand, but I hesitated to take it, glancing down at me and Isla, then back at her. “Uh… I’m gonna be honest, I used babywipes to clean up my hands.”
Her hand withdrew, her lips pinched a little as she gestured to the chair next to Jasper instead.
“Have a seat, Mr. Fletcher.”
I was suddenly having flashbacks of my time in school, being sent to the principal more than once because I had issues with learning and they thought I was failing on purpose just because I was a teen boy. It only fueled my parents, who already thought I was going to hell for listening to rock music, buying vintage band t-shirts with my part time money and staying out late. Hopefully this teacher wasn’t going to start spouting the same shit because I wasn’t going to stand by and let her trash Jasper for not understanding.
The teacher didn’t waste her time with small talk, starting off strong, “I’ve asked you to come down here to discuss Jasper’s behavior. He’s been refusing to follow directions, I’ve had to take his phone away three times this week, and he’s picking fights with his fellow students. Principal Montenegro was supposed to join us to discuss that, but she had a conflict of schedule and agreed to let me handle it. I understand that Jasper is still transitioning, which is why certain leeways are given, but his continued disruptions and aggressive behavior will not be tolerated forever.”
Blowing out a breath, I sat back. That was a hell of a lot more than I expected. One look at Jasper told me I wasn’t going to get much out of him, but I had to try anyway. That’s what good parents did, right? Asked the kid first what was going on?
“Jasper? You got anything to say?”
He gave me his patented glare and crossed his arms tightly over his chest, refusing to answer. I considered my own time in school and how much it felt like no matter what I said, I’d beblamed anyway. I didn’t think I should push before he was ready to talk.
Turning to Simone again, I gave her a strained smile. “I’m sorry. He’s had a rough go of it, and it’s taking a little while to get an appointment for family therapy. The kids have only been living with me for a few weeks.”
From the sound of disgust Jasper made, he wasn’t looking forward to therapy. I bit back the urge to agree with him. Therapy sounded awkward as hell. But it couldn’t be more awkward than the way things were at home right now. Who knows? Maybe it’d do us some good.
CHAPTER THREE
SIMONE
When the school told me we’d be getting a new student, I’d assumed there would be some initial teething as they got used to things. It was the same for all kids, and normally I wouldn’t bother calling a parent in. If it wasn’t for the fighting, I wouldn’t have bothered. I could handle a certain level of pushback. This was middle school after all. But when I’d mentioned the problem to Reagan, she was the one who informed me about the fighting and asked me to join her in a meeting with the guardian on file. I’d certainly not expected the man who walked in the door.
At first glance, he looked dangerous. Tall, muscular, with a leather vest and boots, and tattoos on his arms and neck. It was only when he slowed down long enough for me to take a look at him that I saw the flaws to that image. His biker get up was smeared with orange stains that looked like baby food, his light brown hair was disheveled like he ran his fingers through it a lot, and the contents of the diaper bag he’d brought with him were spilling out onto the floor. The square line of his jaw was covered in stubble, and the bags under his eyes stood out on his creamyskin. He looked in over his head with the baby alone, but adding a teenager in the mix? He didn’t look capable of handling them both.
“I’m sorry, is there a Mrs. Fletcher or–”
From the way he blanched, that was a no.
“No. Nope. Uh, I’m actually the kids’ guardian. Second cousin? I don’t know how that shit– I mean stuff, works.” He grimaced at the dirty look Jasper sent his way for the foul language. Language I’d heard from him during the school day without a hint of remorse. Either he didn’t want the guardian speaking that way around the baby, or he had an issue with his cousin in general.
“I’m sorry for assuming.”
The district hadn’t told me a lot about Jasper’s background other than a quick summary of his previous grades and academic history. If the kids were in their cousin’s care, there was more going on than I was aware of and it would explain a lot about his behavior.
For a minute, the biker just stared at me. He didn’t seem to know what to say.
“While I agree family therapy is a good plan, I think more needs to be said about Jasper’s current behavior,” I prompted.
He blinked, then nodded, readjusting the baby and letting her play with the rings on his hand. “Yeah, I agree.”
What he said next surprised even me, and Jasper looked startled when he asked, “Is it just your personal stuff, or are you having trouble with the material? I know I sucked at school, and if you’re having trouble, I don’t want you punished for that. We can find you a tutor or something.”
The question was surprisingly insightful, and I saw a flash of insecurity cross Jasper’s face that made me think his cousin was headed in the right direction. It would explain why he refused to do the work if he didn’t understand it.
