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C H A P T E R T W O
"Don't touch my fries" I swat Sam's hand away with a scowl. We had, after Ethan and Adeline bickered the whole ride home, decidedly gotten Chick-Fi-La. And when I say decidedly I mean I decided that I didn't feel like McDonald's and sided with Adeline while Ethan sulked.
"But I finished mine," Sam whined and went to reach over again.
"I don't care," I swat his hand away again. "I bought the food. You're all lucky I'm even sharing with you."
"You got us into a car crash," Ethan pointed out as he munched on his nuggets.
"Yeah" Adeline pipes up. "And then had us wait for another hour because you were talking to that cute guy."
Sam blanched. "Cute guy?"
"Yes, the man I crashed into," I roll my eyes. "He wasn't even cute, Dells. Maybe we should get your eyes checked," I tease.
She sends me a small glare.
Ethan grins. "I think we should get your eyes tested. The car was right in front of us. A blind man would've seen it."
I scowl. "You have quite the mouth on you for a ten-year-old."
"Thank you," he flashes a toothy smile.
Sam snickers. "That wasn't a compliment, dumbass."
I smack him with my clean hand. "Language!"
He ducks and grins.
"How was school?" I sigh aiming to change the topic.
Sam frowns and fidgets under the seat. "I failed my math test."
I smile, "it's ok. It's one test, Sam."
"You're not mad?" He asks hesitantly.
I roll my eyes. "Don't make this any more dramatic than it needs to be. It's math for hell's sake. Everyone fails it. Besides, you're doing well in all your other subjects. Don't beat yourself up about it."
"It's the second one I failed, " he says, downcast. "There are only two more tests for the semester."
I fight the urge to snort and call him a nerd.
"When's your next test?" I ask instead, taking a sip of my Pepsi.
"A week and a half."
"Alright," I shrug. "Since I clearly suck ass at teaching I'll try and find you a tutor before the weekend. Either way Sam, there's no pressure on you to pass. I don't care if you fail. As long as you're trying it's ok. Besides, you're in what? Sixth grade?"
He sighs. "Ninth."
"Right," I nod. "I keep forgetting." Sam was a genius. Apparently, his IQ was completely off the charts with what's average for a twelve-year-old. After a number of special tests had been taken, the school had asked if they could move him up. I had left the decision to him and he had agreed. He had some trouble with Math but he was whizzing through all the other subjects; top student in most of them.
