"Tyler?" my mom's voice called.
I paused at the top of the stairs. Her tone of voice was sweet, as though she had a guest.
I went downstairs and into the kitchen, curious as to who decided to stop by.
"Where's Shane?" mom asked, a tight smile on her face.
Mr. Dawson was sitting at the table, bouncing a dime on the table. He looked up and smiled at me.
Shane had just pulled out of a depression, had just started smiling and laughing again. And now his dad decides to show up? It was only going to spiral him again.
"Is he not in his room?" I asked, keeping my voice level.
She shook her head.
"He's at Nicole's house," I said, without looking at Mr. Dawson. "Nicole's helping him get caught back up in Geometry."
Not a total lie. He was at Nicole's house. But I was pretty sure there wasn't much studying going on.
"Well go get him please," mom said. "Mr. Dawson's going to stay for dinner."
I grabbed my keys off the key ring and my phone from upstairs before heading out. I quickly called Shane once I was in my car.
"Yes?" he asked, impatiently.
"I'm coming to get you."
"Someone's here to see you."
"Who the hell would be here to see me?" he demanded.
All of Shane's relatives were distant, a few coming to visit him in the hospital, but most just sending standard Get Well Soon cards.
"Take a guess."
"Dude, I don't know."
I'd peaked Shane's interest, he no longer sounded impatient but curious.
"Try your dad."
"Yeah, your dad's at the house to see you," I said, running a red light.
"Because he's your dad?"
We hadn't seen Shane's dad since he dropped him off once Shane got out of the hospital. We hadn't even heard from him.
"Fuck," Shane muttered.
"I'll be there in five."
I hung up, turning up the radio. I hoped that Nicole could keep Shane's interest until I got there. I didn't want him to overthink things, that only led to "unhealthy thoughts" as the psychiatrist put it.
Nicole and Shane were sitting outside when I got there. Shane was talking, a smile still on his face.
Thank you Nicole.
Shane waved as I pulled in, and Nicole helped him up off the ground.
I looked away as they said their goodbyes, not really interested in Shane's sex life.
"How did the studying go?" I teased, as he got into the passenger seat.
"Shut up," he grumbled, pulling down the sun visor. He flipped up the mirror, checking his reflection. "We actually did get some studying done."
"I bet you did."
"You're disgusting," he said, flipping back up the sun visor. "How do I look?"
YOU ARE READING
Monroe Academy for the ArtsTeen Fiction
Completed. Thousands of students apply, and only 75 get in per year. This prestigious academy is seemingly perfect on the outside, it's every student's dream. But the students struggle to keep up the facade. Each student holds a secret, something de...