Chapter 3

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Song
Something Like ThisGordi

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I race out of class right after the bell rings, squeezing my way through the throng of students in the corridor and bolting out the school. I certainly don't want to run into him again. I trip over a trashcan and nearly fall on my face, but at least I'm out of the school. I give a huge sigh of relief once I'm on the sidewalk and slow my pace. Brad sends me a text saying he'll be home late, but doesn't bother to give any details.

I head over to Charlie's preschool to pick him up. He's chatty, as usual, and notices right away the change right away. "Hey, how come you're not wearing your glasses?" He asks on the walk home.

I shrug. "I’m trying to get used to not wearing them."

"Can you see without your glasses?"

"Not very well."

"How come you want to get used to not seeing?"

Ugh. This isn't the first time my glasses have gotten broken. In fifth grade, this kid used to pick on me all the time. He snapped my glasses right in half the first time I showed up at school wearing them. Yup, fifth grade kids are mean. If Mom finds out, she will kill me. Telling Charlie would be the quickest way of telling Mom; he doesn't ever keep anything to himself.

Thank goodness kids have such short attention span. I manage to get Charlie quiet about those stupid glasses and make him promise he won't tell Mom. He pinky swears, then coyly asks if he can have an ice cream cone. Of course I have to say yes, or he'll tell. Typical.

My house is a two-story ranch style suburban in the sleepy little city of Charlottesville with a manicured lawn and a crooked mailbox in front labeled Dawson. It's not as big as the other houses down the street. My family is not rich, but we have enough to get by and a little extra.

When Charlie and I make it back to the house we're met with a surprise: Mom's dark haired, brawny, and very Italian boyfriend, Tony. And apparently he's here to stay. "You don't mind, do you, darling?" Mum asks anxiously.

I shrug wordlessly, then climb the narrow stairs to my room and close the door, sulking. Mom thinks Tony is 'The One'. That's what she said about half of the other guys she dated. She started dating Tony some months back when she went for this vacation in Rome, and apparently immediately he saw her they had this 'cosmic connection'. So he walked up to her and told she had the most dazzling blue eyes he had ever seen — he sometimes still calls her 'bella ochi', which means beautiful eyes.

They broke up when she had to come back home, because of 'long distance' and all, but Tony came looking for her here and they got back together again this spring. I don't like him, even though he's been extremely sweet to us. I'm not entirely convinced that he truly loves her, not after Mom's last boyfriend. He just sort of . . . hovered all the time, especially when he knew Mom was emotionally volatile after Dad's death. He was nice at first, but then he started hitting her, even when she discovered she was pregnant with my father's son, Charlie. A neighbour threatened to report him to the cops, so he did a runner. We haven't seen him since.

Sighing, I drop onto my bed and spread out like a starfish and shut my eyes. I wish Tony would just leave already. I don't want a new dad. Why doesn't Mom just get that?

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When I get downstairs for dinner, Tony and Charlie are already seated around the table, waiting. Mom is in the kitchen. I join them with a mumbled apology and take a seat.

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