The Foster Kid (Part 10) (A Foster The People Fan Fiction)

I Scream For Ice Cream

            Okay, so Cubbie called days later after the last time I talked to Stella and Riley. He said that I needed to pick Nate up from school today. After a while, I later learned to cope with it. I was starting to enjoy the activity of picking Nate up from school because I enjoy pissing Cubbie off. Every time I pick Nate up, I’ll always take him out for ice cream. Cubbie detests me buying his little boy ice cream because he wants to eat ice cream too. Aaw, poor Cubbie. Sucks to be him. Muahahahahaha. I’m still figuring on why Cubbie chose me to pick him up, though. I mean, I take his kid out for ice cream without him. Duh.

            I got to Nate’s school right at the moment the kids started flooding out of that place. Some run to their parents, some to the buses, and some to their little bikes. Seeing those kids getting out of school reminds me of myself during elementary. The cool kids come the earliest, contrast to the kids of high school. I come an hour early during elementary and an hour late during high school. I know, I suck. I’ve always liked elementary. It used to be the place when I run to from all those depressing days. That’s where I started to discover more about myself, little by little. With my back against the car, I was watching those kids in a non-pedophile way. Then Nate showed up. We high fived each other because he’s eleven now, not six. “So, you’re up for ice cream?” I asked as I started the engine,

            “When don’t I want ice cream?” He smirked charmingly,

            I rolled my eyes, “God, you’re turning into your father. So, what did you get to do today? Did you get into any trouble?”

            “No.” He shook his head, “Why do you always ask me that?”

            I raised my eyebrows at him through the rearview mirror, “Do you want your dad to find out?”

            “Right. Where is he?”

            “He had to do something.”

            “Like what?”

            “Like crying because he couldn’t come with us for ice cream.”

            He burst out laughing, “Sorry, dad.”

            “Back to the question, buddy.”

            “I’m having problems with my math.” He admitted timidly, “And there’s going to be a quiz.”

            “What’s it about?”

            “Perimeters and areas.”

            “Did your teacher give you any worksheets?”

            “Many of them.” He groaned exaggeratingly,

            “Okay, so today we’re going to eat ice cream and finish study perimeters and areas. Joy.”

            “But-”

            “Ice cream and math or no ice cream at all.” I threatened,

            His face fell into a frown, “Fine, ice cream and math.”

             I parked the car and got off, “Lighten up, Nathaniel. You’re going to be smarter than your dad later on. I’m smarter than him and so will you in a matter of time.”

            He pulled his math folder and pencil out before hopping off, “Can I get an extra scoop if I get to finish it?”

            “When you make no mistakes.”