When we don't know who to turn to, sometimes we turn to the ones we least expect.
Luke Salazar is a senior at Bay High School, and he's been pushed, shoved, and shut out for most of his life. Miles Jefferson has been the ringleader of a lot of that...
All day I had crept around the house, avoiding my mother at all costs. She had yelled at me when I came in: Lucas Graham, I cannot believe you stayed out until 1:00 am! Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought you were dead in a damn gutter somewhere! Don't you ever pull that shit again! I had to wonder what she'd say if she knew where I was...with a girl. I had to think my dad might actually be proud—he'd asked me recently when I was going to bring a girl home. In fact, my dad wasn't all that angry about my lapse in judgment; he joined in the fussing, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it.
So for the rest of the day, I gave my room a deep cleaning, hoping to appease her, as she'd been asking me to make time for it for the past month.
I was dusting my nightstand when I heard a light tap on my door. "Come in," I called, looking over my shoulder.
My dad came in with two cans of orange soda, handed me one, and plopped down in the recliner in the corner of my room. I took it, popping it open and sitting on the edge of my bed facing him.
"Thanks, Dad," I said, taking a long swig from the can.
"No problem, son. You're working hard—trying to keep Mom at bay?" he asked, grinning over his soda.
I laughed, putting the can on a coaster on my freshly dusted nightstand. "Maaaaaybe."
Dad took another sip and put the can on the floor next to him. "So where were you, really?"
I coughed in surprise. "What?" I asked when I regained my breath. "I told you, I was at my lab partner's house working on the physics project."
Dad smirked. "Did you know that Mr. Brooks sends out a parent newsletter every week, detailing what's going on in the class?"
Fuck. "No, I didn't know that..." I said, feeling my heart sink.
"Yeah, and I know that you're not doing a physics project this week—you guys are doing prep for the AP test. And your mom doesn't know that considering the newsletter gets sent to me," he said, picking up his soda and taking a sip, a smug expression on his face.
"Well...hell," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Yep. So, guy to guy, where were you?"
"Well, I was working on science...just not physics...Bio 2. With Brooke Kane," I admitted, my voice falling quiet on her name.
"You were with a girl?"
"Yeah...I'm sorry Dad, but you have to believe me; it isn't like that with me and Brooke. She needed my help to study for a test, and we fell asleep. That's it. She doesn't like me that way, anyway."
My dad surprised me by asking, "How do you know?"
"How do I know what?" I asked, confused.
"How do you know she doesn't like you 'like that'?"
I scoffed. "Come on, Dad. If you could see this girl, you wouldn't ask that. She is way out of my league."
He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. "Son, why don't you look in the mirror sometime?"
"Huh?"
"Luke, you're not ugly. I don't know where you got that idea—all those douchebags you go to school with, I guess. That's why I have been so tough on you all these years; I want you to see that those people have nothing on you. That there is no reason for you to cower to them. And now, 18 years later, I realize I've been going about it all wrong. Son, you're an awesome dude. Period, point blank. You're intelligent, witty, talented, and you got all your mama's good looks," he said, getting up and sitting next to me, draping an arm around my shoulders. "Now if this girl asked you to come to her house on a Saturday night to 'study for Bio 2,' I'd say she might at least like you a little."
I looked over at him, floored by his speech. "Wow, Dad...I don't know what to say."
He stood up and ruffled my hair. "Say you'll go for it," he said, winking and heading out the door with his orange soda in hand.
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