Fighting For What's Missing

54.

Agnes
A few days later...

I glance over my shoulder as I sprint down the hall. Students are not allowed to leave the lunchroom during lunch, and given the fact that I'm in eighth grade and my lunch is the last lunch, it's easy to tell I'm not supposed to be in the halls. But Gilly and I do it every day; we slip away from the class and read in the library. But today Mr. Wu had asked me to stay after class-he wanted to see how I was doing-so I couldn't leave with Gilly.

I turn a hard right then push through the heavy library door. I find Gilly pacing back and forth by the tables, a worried, scared expression on her face.

I dart to her side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she tries to smile. "Come on." She snatches my hand and drags me to the back where we hide and read. I sit down, pressing my back to the wall, then Gilly lies down and places her head on my lap. "Here." She hands me Freak The Mighty-our favorite book.

I want to ask her what's bothering her-because something's clearly bothering her-but she doesn't want to talk about it. She wants me to read so that's what I'm going to do.

I'm somewhere in chapter three when Gilly abruptly sits up.

"What? Did you hear someone?" I straighten my back and try to look through the bookshelves. "I don't see anyone." I return my attention to Gilly, who's looking at me with softer eyes now. "What?" I smile.

We stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime then she leans in and kisses me.

But she pulls away before my mind could catch up. "I'm sorry," she pouts.

I'm utterly shocked. "What...what was that?"

"I dunno," she shrugs, turning red and shying away.

"You...like me?"

"Yeah," she nods. "Do you...like me, I mean?"

"Yeah." She still has her head turned away from me, so I reach out, take her chin between my thumb and index finger and turn her head in my different. Our eyes lock, and I lean forward and softly peck her lips. "When?" I ask, pulling away. "When did you realize you liked me?"

"I always did. Same way like I always knew I liked girls." There's a quick pause, then Gilly looks suddenly worried. "Do you like girls?"

"I'm not sure," I say slowly. "But I know I like you."

"Good." She takes my hand and rests her head on my lap again. Blushing and smiling hard, I grab the book with my free hand and continue reading.

William

I fucking hate school pickups. They're fucking annoying. If I'm picking Agnes up in the car then I have to wait forever in a line of cars. If I'm going on foot then the place is too fucking crowded with yelling kids and parents that look like they're fed up with life. It's fucking annoying. But for today I decided to go on foot. I just can't find my daughter.

"Daddy!" Agnes' voice carries over the other children, then thud-Agnes crashes into my side, hugging me tightly.

"Hey, baby girl," I chuckle. She's only this happy to see me when it's the beginning of the school year. "Ready to go?" She nods, and I wrap an arm around her and lead her towards the car. "How was school?"

"Great," she beams.

I'm glad to see she's over the whole period thing. "What happened?"

"Gilly likes me-and before you ask, yes, I'm sure. She...told me."

I automatically wince. Agnes hesitated on the "told me" part. I want to ask how exactly did Gilly tell my baby girl that she likes her, but I don't. I don't think I can handle the answer. Instead, I grab Agnes' bag, pick her up and hurry to the car.

"Where are we going, daddy?" Agnes asks.

"We're seeing Tisha, remember?" I had never gotten around to calling Tisha, but it's not like she's going to mind us coming over unannounced and staying the weekend. The judge had declared her "unfit" to foster kids considering her age. Agnes and Rob are the only ones that really visit her anymore. I, on the other hand, get dragged along. It's been years and even though I've changed as a man, I still can't accept Tisha into my life like that. I told myself a very long time ago that my mother was dead, it's kinda to come back from that. And Agnes understands that, that's why she doesn't push me on the whole going to see Tisha situation.

"Thank you, daddy." Agnes hugs me tightly, then I settle her on her feet and we climb into the car.

********

"Can I drive?" Agnes asks, and I burst into laughter. It's only been a little over twenty minutes on the road, Agnes has been doing her homework in the backseat the entire time and that's the first thing she says to me? It's fucking hilarious. "I'm serious," she says. I hear the click of her seatbelt undoing, then, before I have a chance to look back, she jumps to the front seat.

"What did I say about that?" I ask, my tone hard and serious. Agnes is like a damn monkey, jumping place to place.

"Sorry." In the corner of my eye, I see her frown. But it quickly vanishes as she puts on her seatbelt. "Can I drive?"

"You're thirteen, Agnes."

"How old were you when you started driving?"

Shit.

I debate on telling her the truth or not, but my hesitation gives me away already. "Eleven," I mumble.

"Eleven!" She exclaims loudly. "Daddy, I-"

"My parents didn't give a shit about me," I remind her. We've had this conversation too many times to count.

"Well, you care about me. Think about it, daddy, when I start driving, I won't know what to do-not exactly," she argues.

"They'll teach you in school."

"They'll teach me the laws of the road but not how to drive."

I roll my eyes, secretly wondering who's the teenager in the car. "I'll put you in a class."

"And waste money?"

"Agnes!" I slightly gasp. I easily forget she's thirteen sometimes, and no one can blame. When Agnes Granger wants something, she will fight, using the mind of any age.

"Daddy, I'm serious."

"Yeah, you've mentioned that already." I take my eyes off the road for a few seconds to look at her.

"Can't you tell me anything about driving?"

I exhale loudly. "The car always moves," I tell her, "once you put the car in drive and take your foot off the brake, it moves."

"Okay..." I can hear the excitement slowly building in her voice.

"When you do start driving, you're most likely gonna fall into the habit of driving with one had-don't do that when you take your road test though. They will fail you. Anyway, always turn with two hands."

"Does...does this-talking about these types of things make you feel uncomfortable?"

I look at my baby girl again. "Yeah."

"What?" She gasps, her eyes widening. "Why?"

"It's just a reminder that you're growing up, Agnes," I answer honestly.

She smiles. "I'm learning to drive, daddy, but I'm not going anywhere."

I return my gaze to the road and hold out my pinky to her. "Promise?"

"Promise." She locks her pinky with mine then leans forward and kisses her thumb.