⋉ chapter eleven ⋊

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As I storm down the street, my knuckles crack in my tight fists

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As I storm down the street, my knuckles crack in my tight fists. Anger courses through my veins, making it hard to keep my thoughts coherent.

Nova's lost faith in me.

I can't decide whether I'm more enraged with myself or her at this point.

And do I even want to go home? Momma hasn't talked to me since the jail incident and Papa still glares whenever he sees my face. But, as the navy-blue sky hangs over my head, I know it's too late to go somewhere else. All my favorite hang-out spots are closed. Nova's house isn't an option and it's not like I have other friends to crash with.

With a heady sigh, I knock on the door of my house. I remember once, when I said religion was a waste of time, Papa locked me out while as per usual, Momma cried. He felt really bad when he saw me wandering the neighborhood, too afraid to ask Nova for assistance. I don't think he would do that again, but with Papa, you never know.

The door opens, Papa standing there with a tired expression. "Carrot." He gruffs as he steps aside to let me in.

I hear melodramatic crying and screaming from the living room which means Momma's watching her soaps. I don't bother saying "hello" because I know she wouldn't respond if I did.

Instead of hiding in my room, I trudge to the kitchen and sit at the dining table, staring at our chipping wallpaper. So unproductive and pathetic. Maybe Nova was right to dismiss my claims, I'm a complete waste of time.

"What are you doing?" Papa asks as he ambles to the fridge. Probably for a Canada Dry, we're both addicted to it.

"Nothing."

He narrows his eyes. "You don't have homework?"

"No," I lie.

"Interesting," He murmurs, falling into the seat across from me.

"Yep."

"You know, they sent your grade report." He says. "Actually, I asked for your grade report."

My heart doesn't freeze in my chest, the way it used to when he mentioned my grades. It's not like he ever did anything about it. "Nice."

"Your grades suck." He takes a long swig of ginger ale from his can. "And we're going to fix that because Benston School for Christian Boys doesn't accept applicants with GPAs below 3.0."

"Oh," I murmur, my mind reeling to remember my own GPA. It's a 2 point something but definitely not high enough for Benston.

"Your GPA is a 2.8."

"Really?" I asked, pleasantly surprised. All those Bs I got in 10th grade must have paid off.

"You're going to need all As this year if you want to stand a chance."

I'm about to come back with something snarky like, "You didn't raise an Einstein, Papa" but I know that if I want to stay in Trinity (something I never thought I'd say), I need to be humbler. "I'll do my best."

Papa blinks. "Is that some sort of joke?"

"I'm really close to a 3.0, I might as well try. End the year with a bang."

He appears horrified by my drastic personality change. He touches my forehead. "Are you alright, Carrot?"

"I'm fine. Promise." I assure, leaning away from his touch. "Anyway, I've come to a realization."

"And what realization is that?"

In the distance, I see Momma watching us. Apparently, her soaps ended. Now is as a good a time as ever.

I take a deep breath before saying the words that will forever change the course of my life. "I realized that God's existence is more likely than his nonexistence."

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jul 28, 2019 ⏰

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