During my middle and high school years, I’d been lower than the lowest on the totem pole. The extra weight I carried in my middle, paired with how bold I could be with my opinions, left me sitting in hallways from lunch most days. Grandma and Pop would pick me up after school and take me out to do random things around the city. They’d tell me all the greats were loners in high school. For months, they were my only friends and to this day, I’d never smiled more.
“She took all my old shirts and refashioned them into bedsheets,” Dad finished. “Never mind Wal-Mart sells ‘em for dirt cheap.”
“The shirts were softer than anything Wal-Mart has to offer,” I pointed out.
“That’s the logic of a budding cheapskate.” Dad smiled at me and reach over to rub my head. “We’ve raised you well.”
I pulled out of his reach to avoid messing up my hair. Despite my short haircut, I still didn’t like the idea of my small brush job getting ruined.
“You miss her?” Dad asked, taking on a sober tone.
“I video chat with her every Friday.”
“I know but living with us versus living with her is different.”
I shrugged and took us on a turn that brought the bridge across the river in sight. The guys behind us groaned in unison and some even voiced protest. Dad called back for them to ‘stay positive.’
“I know I don’t know much about what happened with you and that boy.” Dad turned back to me. He cleared his throat for a moment. Dad wasn’t the talk about your feelings type of person. His parenting style was more of a learn on your own, I’ll be there to hang out if you need me. Every hard lesson I learned, my mom was there to hold my hand through it… until last year.
“I do know it hurt you and your Mom’s relationship,” he continued.
“We’re fine.”
I pushed on the gas a little harder as we neared the bridge’s incline. Much like the force of the gravity on the cart’s wheels, I felt like I was forcing myself through this conversation.
“Are you sure?” Dad’s gaze fixed on the horizon. On the rare occasion he was forced to parent, he didn’t like to make eye contact. I didn’t blame him. Staring into the sun felt far less painful.
“We talk every Friday,” I repeated. It wasn’t an answer, but I knew he’d accept it. Because it wasn’t like I’d cut Mom off. Sure, my leaving was the opposite of what she wanted. I had to do what was right for me, though. And Westbrooke felt like it. Dad and Kai felt like it. So, I was staying, and I was going to make the best of it.
Dad’s eyes actually met mine. “As long as you’re okay.”
I gave him one of my best smiles. The one Grandma used to say reminded her of him. “I’m okay.”
He tried to rub the top of my head again, but I dodged.
“Careful.” He chuckled, holding onto the top of the golf cart as we swerved a bit. We were on the bridge’s peak now. If I moved the steering wheel too far to the left or right I could have either shoved us into traffic or towards the steel barrier on the bridge’s edge.
“I got this,” I promised. “You trust me, right?”
He relaxed his shoulders and leaned back. “Of course. That’s why you’re at the wheel.”
Chapter 11
Allnewemergencyteammembers were required to wear a name badge. The top-heavy blue, felt heart badge looked a little sad. It slumped over once I pinned it on my chest. I developed a quick habit of pushing it up anytime it fell over, so people would be able to read my name and pronouns.
We stood outside of a small, white building right next to the student center. Our team managers were busy signing everyone in. They made sure we all got our uniform shirts, a complimentary water bottle, and a coupon to the student cafe. The air was cold and crisp, making me tug my sleeves down a bit to cover my poor fingers.
“Emmy!” Yara hurried over to me and blew a curl out of her face before continuing, “I was hoping you’d show up before I had to head out.”
I smiled at the excitement in her eyes. “Hey, what’s up?”
“The BWDC’s first meeting of the semester is this weekend. It’ll be something short and small to get hopeful members a feel for our community. You down to drop by?”
“Of course. My camera has been sufficiently dusted off. I’m more than ready,” I assured.
Yara shook her head. “Oh, I’m not inviting you to record for this event. I want you to meet some of the girls and have fun. It’ll be chill, and there’s going to be free food.”
“Sold,” I said at the mention of free. “Tell me the time and place and I’ll see you there.”
