Four

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I plan to update this book twice today, so be sure to read this chapter first!

Melissa sat on the bus, headphones plugged in her ears and two plastic bags tucked under her feet. She hoped her father would be home from work, as he had been working overtime more than usual for the past month. She knew it had to do with her, as he needed to provide for them both, but that was why she had her own job. She could help pay for herself and her personal needs. It was difficult to allow him to work more than usual just for her sake, so she did whatever she could to help make the load more bearable.

With the chance of her needing to go to summer school, she knew he was not going to be happy. It would cost extra money from the savings account they needed for emergencies. She would need to take up extra shifts at the pretzel stand in the mall, and it would cause the rest of her work to suffer. And if her father continued to overwork like he was, he was soon going to end up in the hospital. She was terrified to tell him.

But after everything the two had been through since her mother's death six years ago, they were making do with what they could. If there was even an extra dollar to spare, it instantly went into savings for the moment they would need it the most. There wasn't much money saved, so the idea of needing more due to her failing made her more anxious than she already was.

Pulling the wire at her stop, she snatched her two bags and flung her backpack over her shoulder. It was a five-minute walk from the bus stop to the ditch her trailer was in. It was more like a steep climb down a hill where there was plenty of flat land before the hill climbed up again, but the safety of being lower made the people in her tiny, widespread neighborhood feel safer due to her knife throwing capabilities.

Skidding down the gravel hill, Melissa ran into the house once she spotted her father's mint pickup parked out front. "Good, you're home," she stated as she slammed the plastic bags on the counter. "I brought us some dinner from the food stand."

"You know it's not good to spend money going out to eat. It's cheaper to make food at home."

"I know, but Red was there, and since we give her free pretzels all the time, she gives us free food whenever she's alone. And this time, she made sure she was for our sake." She opened the Styrofoam take out boxes and scraped the food onto microwave safe plates. "I brought teriyaki chicken and fried rice. Aww, she even threw in a little bag of eggrolls for us."

He chuckled. "I'm glad you have friends you can fall back on when you need it the most."

"I think she does it for my manager. She's been in love with her for over a year now and refuses to make a move. I feel bad for her since Kay's straight, but at least the deal is still going on. It's like a mutual agreement now."

"If you're in on it, does that mean you're like a manager now?"

"I guess assistant manager if anything. We have three managers, but they all trust me a lot since I actually do the work to make sure I have a job to come back to the next day, and if that helps get us free dinner some nights, then so be it. You didn't make anything yet, did you?"

"I was going to make us both grilled cheeses, but I wanted to wait until you got home from work."

"Thank you, sir." She kissed his cheek as the microwave beeped. "I do need to talk to you about something important."

"What's wrong?"

Inserting another plate into the microwave, she placed the reheated food in front of her father as she sat down next to him. "There's no easy way for me to tell you, but I'm getting a D in my Literature class."

Her father lowered the fork onto the plate and folded his hands in front of his face. He didn't say anything even after the microwave beeped with Melissa's dinner, but she made no move to grab it until he pointed at the microwave. She sat down, refusing to eat until he did as well. He remained silent for minutes longer until he finally dropped his hands and stabbed at a piece of chicken.

"Tell me what's been going on in school?"

"It's difficult to find the time to read and stay focused during it. I have other homework to finish once I get home, and I'm already tired from work."

"What about your free periods?"

"I couldn't fit any in this year, and I try to work during my lunch break-"

"Do not do homework or anything school or work related during your lunch break. That is when you are supposed to eat and give your mind a break after learning all morning. No more of that."

"Yes, sir," she tentatively responded.

"So you're just getting a D right now, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Does that mean you'll pass the class?"

"If I keep it at a D, yes, but I'm on my way to failing. There is a chance."

"And if you do fail? Do you not graduate?"

"I'd walk with my class, but I wouldn't get my diploma until after..."

He groaned. "Spit it out."

"Summer school," she whispered.

He dropped his head into his hands and groaned, shaking his head quickly. "What can we do to make sure you pass? What do you need help with?"

"I don't know."

"I want you to talk to your teacher tomorrow and find out what you can do to improve your grade moving forward. Does she give extra credit?"

"No, sir."

"Then figure out what you need to score on your homework, quizzes, and tests in order to improve your grade. So long as you get a D, you're going to fine."

"That's it?" she questioned, shocked and annoyed. "Just keep a D? I thought you would be mad."

"I am livid on the inside, but not for the reasons you think. I know you are doing well in all your other classes, and I understand the workload is getting more and more challenging as the year goes on. I do not blame you for any of that. More than anything, I'm pissed that we live in a financial situation where we can't afford to help you get the proper tools you need in order to improve your grades. I wish I could help more, but I've already got my hands tied."

"Please do not continue to work more," she pleaded, grasping onto his hand. "I don't want you to overwork yourself and end up in the hospital. Lord knows we cannot afford it." She pulled her hands back and placed them in her lap. "I'll try to look for a better job that will pay more-"

"Live your life like a teenager," he demanded. "I know it's hard, but you're only young for so long. You need to enjoy yourself while you can."

"But if I find a job that will pay better, I can pay for all of my own expenses. Then you can start to put your money into a savings account and worry about yourself."

"I have no issues taking care of you, Melissa. I never have, and I never will. You need to work on stopping those negative emotions from caving in on you. I hate it. You're not a burden to me, and you never will be."

"I know."

"Maybe in here," he stated, pointing at his heart before he tapped his temples, "but not up here."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"Not this time." He took another bite. "I love you. I want you to have a normal high school experience, so keep your job at the mall. It gives your better hours than what you might get anywhere else. Plus, they allow you to catch the bus, and your managers have never had a problem with giving you a ride home. Just try to relax a little more. As difficult as it is, I know you can do it."

It was a challenge to think about worrying less about her living arrangements, but after years of watching her father struggle to take care of both her and himself after the death of her mother, she made it her soul mission to help however she could. The moment she turned fourteen, she got a work permit. She made sure she could help pay for groceries and bills and her own clothes. Due to Theo working at the local thrift store, he was able to get her the best deals on the clothes that matched her style the most, always buying the clothes himself with his employee discount and lowering the prices the make sure she could afford it. Her whole life revolved around making sure she and her father could live comfortably without him going into the hospital from exhaustion. She lost one parent. She was going to lose the other due to her.


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