Nestled in the Chicago suburbs rested the small, one school town of LaginaWood. A sleepy little city where teenagers drink, date, party, and hopefully study. Where citizens hail the Cubs without much reason, high school football is practically a rel...
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Cate "I don't know, Virginia. The classes have been drafted, the books have been purchased." Mr. Rolla scratched his balding head for what must have been the hundredth time. "You can't just bring your daughter here on the first day of term and expect us to fit her in."
Mom looked over at me, raising her eyebrows. I could read the silent question: take him to his knees?
With my smirk, I answered: get him, Mom.
She nodded, returning her attention back to Dean Rolla and his shiny head. "It's Missus Vadim, please. And is it an issue with Cate's transcript? Because I'm certain her grades are well to the standards of LaginaWood High school. Or is it a question of the rigor of her homeschooling, in which case as her primary instructor I'll assure you that her teaching has been more than sufficient."
Mr. Rolla raised his hands. "And I'll assure you, Missus Vadim, that my hesitation has nothing to do with your daughter's academic merit. Having been taught by such dignified professors as you and your husband, she's certainly more than qualified. And I do appreciate your ample supply of paperwork. But we need time to sort out her schedule and verify her admittance. You're asking for her to be fit into classes within a half hour notice, and that just isn't possible. In a few weeks time we'll be thrilled to welcome Cate to L-Wood."
Under normal circumstances, I knew Mom would bow to his authority, not wanting to make a scene. But I'd asked her to do this. We hadn't planned on enrolling me in public school any time soon, but I'd insisted. I needed this and I wouldn't let it go. And when Mom saw how important it was to me, well, she'd do just about anything.
"Sir, it is of the utmost importance Cate begins her studies today, along with the rest of the students," Mom insisted. "I'm sure you understand the value of the first weeks of school, both from an academic and social standpoint."
He sighed, the noise of a man who'd stopped caring at least a decade ago. "I'll see what I can do." The dean hauled himself out of his rolling chair and shuffled into his office, taking his coffee and my transcript with him.
After he was well out of earshot, Mom turned to me with a triumphant smile. "That went well."
"Putting that English degree to work, huh?" I grinned.
"It's nothing, kiddo. The guy's already counting down the days 'till summer and will do just about anything to avoid a parent making a fuss. Most teachers are like that."
As a former college professor, Mom would know. "He didn't stand a chance. Thanks, Ma."
"No he didn't," she agreed. "But are you sure you're ready? Public school is a big step." Her lips puckered into the sour face she made whenever something worried her. No doubt I made the same expression; I'd spent the last sixteen years being told we looked alike, from our choppy black hair to our light blue eyes. I'd never minded, but it was part of the reasons why I'd insisted on dying the tips of my hair dark purple.
