Paternal and Proud [LAMS Short Story]

XII - Fixing and Fortunate

She hadn't felt that self-assured in a very long while. She didn't feel so desperate, clinging on to something that was bound to break at any second.

So that's what it was. It wasn't confidence, though that was something it helped to fuel. It was hope.

So when she stepped off the bus the next morning at school, she felt happy.

Wow, it felt so good to be happy again.

She made it through her first few classes well enough, though it was hard for her to pay attention. She was jittery - leg bouncing, stomach fluttering, and all - as she sat on the edge of her seat, anticipating lunch.

When the bell rang, she was up out of her seat, speed walking to the cafeteria, where she made a beeline to one table in particular.

Philip sat all alone at the table, opening his brought lunch. Frances always saw him sit alone for the first few minutes of lunch while everyone else he ate with got into the lunch line to buy food.

The hope fluttering in her chest morphed into an anxious stirring in her stomach, but she approached him anyway.

"Hey, Philip?" she asked gingerly. "Do you mind if we talk? There's something I really need to say to you."

She could tell Philip heard her by the way he froze, then slowly put down his fork. He turned around on the seat to look at her quietly, trying to gauge something from her expression. His eyes narrowed, but his voice was cool when he spoke. "I'd rather not, Frances," he responded. "I was having a good day up until now and I'd like it to remain that way."

Frances swallowed hard, but in a triumphant moment she realized that for fucking once she didn't feel tears prick her eyes. Instead, she felt something inside of her harden, solidify. "Please, Philip. I want to fix what I've done."

Philip just turned back around so his back was to her, and replied plainly, "I'd like to see you try."

Frances barely noticed anything over the pounding of her heartbeat. She blinked a couple of times before realizing that that was her cue to leave, then slowly turned and left.

For some reason, she felt different than she thought she would after being rudely rejected. She'd just wanted to apologize, to tell him that she wanted to get their parents back together, but now that Philip wasn't on board with anything, she realized she would have to do it herself.

For once, she wasn't going to contradict Philip. She was going to try.

Maybe she didn't quite know how yet, but that was okay.

She wasn't disheartened at all. She was determined.

--

Frances planned on going home and trying to figure out a way to prove to people that she was changing. That she wanted to make things right again and be a good friend. Her mind was still buzzing from what Philip said and what she could do to change his mind when she stepped into her science classroom for the last period of the day.

She slid into her seat, letting her mind drift. She wondered what she could do to prove to Philip that she understood everything. Everything she did, everything he told her, everything she needed to do. But she didn't know how to tell him if he didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to resort to being the pushy bitch she knew she was before.

Before she knew it, a good twenty minutes had passed and she had missed most of what her teacher had been talking about, but tuned back in just in time to hear him say something about groups of two or three.

Oh, shit, Frances immediately thought. Not a group project, please.

Mr. Frazer, however, clearly didn't hear Frances' thoughts and proceeded to discuss the details while clicking the small remote in his hand to change the slide on his powerpoint. Frances could feel her all-too-familiar pool of dread begin to churn in her stomach as she glanced around the classroom. She was already completely aware of her preexisting lack of friends, but while everyone leaned around each other to lock eyes with their friends, mentally finding a partner for the project, it felt blatantly, tauntingly obvious that she was a loser.