I Was Never Loved

I Was Never Loved- chp 4

Chapter 4

The following week found me hurrying out of the house. Staying seemed like a bad idea now that Mother had gotten Matt's first semester report card—which was never a pretty sight. Something about the straight line of D's always seemed to scream 'Kai's fault' and nothing about my own A's ever screamed 'Hard Work'. Somehow I would end up being responsible for his grades slipping. Whether it was that I didn't offer to help him study or I was distracting him while he was studying. Nevermind the Xbox he played from morning til night if you let him. Forget the way he went and came as he pleased, always being out with his friends and never picking up a book. It was all my fault. This was also why I no longer showed her my report cards. They were never a source of joy and celebration, they were a reason to run and hide. Once, she dislocated my shoulder for upstaging Matthew.

Our grandmother had been there for a visit and had asked about our schooling. My brother, not being particularly bothered, offered up his report card and garnered for himself an hour's lecture on hard work and his lack of initiative. It had felt good, for once not being the one that got cussed and I remember thinking it was my chance at last. True enough, my grandmother was over the moon. Gave me $20 and told me I'd get more with my next report card. As you can imagine, this didn't go over well with my mother. The moment our guest was gone, I was beaten senseless and my brother was given my $20 to make him feel better after the 'harsh' words spoken by his 'mean' grandmother.

Justice had long been dead.

At school I was told to report to the Principal's office. Naturally, I began to panic. I couldn't be in trouble, I just couldn't. They would call my mother. She would show up at the school with a baton or something equally abrasive and beat the shit out of me. The thought sent me into a cold sweat as I tried to think of anything I might have done in the last week to offend anyone. When nothing came to mind, it only caused me to panic further. Could it have been something I'd done unintentionally? That seemed to be the order of events for at least the first half of last week but how would that land me in the Principal's office?

Slowly I entered the office, taking the seat opposite the Principal at his desk. As I did, I braced myself for the scowl and reprimand that was sure to come. At least now I would know what I'd done. Now I would know just how much trouble to expect and how best to tread around my mother for the next week.

"You wanted to see me Principal Wilson?" I asked timidly. My fingers curled into nervous little knots around each other with my hand resting in my lap. Try hard as I might, there was nothing to slow the pace of my pounding heart. I didn't want to be known by the Principal as a troublemaker. Should I need to report something to him later, it was a certainty he would presume me automatically guilty because of my 'record', just as my old Principal had.

I was always acting out. It was just a cry for attention. I was ill-adjusted and needed to finally conform to the rules of the school. Absolutely everything was always my fault. I deserved what I got. This time however, I couldn't think of anything. My brain was drawing nervous blanks.

"Yes, it's about your grades." He replied, seemingly oblivious to my apprehension.

Of course. I should have known. Transferring over, I hadn't yet become accustomed to the marking rubric of my new teachers. It usually took me just a little to find out what they were looking for then produce work of a standard befitting good grades. This was fine. This was not something they called your parents in for until maybe half way through the term. By then I was sure to be adjusted. Just breathe, Kai. "About that . . ." I began, feeling confident enough in my ability to soothe any worry that may have risen. "I'm really sorry about those. It's just that with the transfer and all I haven't been able to really study and throw myself into it. I guarantee they'll improve." And it was true. Ever since I started here, Mother had been down my throat about who I spoke to, who was in my classes, what time I got home—that sort of thing and whenever she felt I was being lippy she would smack me into place or out of focus, whichever came first.