The Reality Paradox (Cameron Armstrong)

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Kids are still exiting the school an hour after the bell.  They pass as I sit on the grass and read, waiting for my dad.  He's usually here by now, but I can speculate what's happened and I'm anticipating the call.  My phone rings.

I slide the button and hold it to my ear, grinning.  "I guess there's no use in saying 'Don't feel guilty,' huh?"

"There never is."  He sounds tired.  He always sounds tired.

"I'm fine going home on my own."

"How?"

"It's a nice day.   I could walk."

"Walk?  Cam, are you kidding me?  It'll be dark by the time you get home.   A 17 - year old girl walking by herself at night is anything but inconspicuous.   I don't wanna freak you out, but I cannot lie."

"Do you have any other ideas?"

"Y'know, call an Uber.  At least I'll know who took you home.   I'll give you the money back."

I roll my eyes.  "I have more than enough, you don't need to give me anything."

"It's to say sorry for canceling last - minute... again."   His voice gets soft.

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Nope."

"Didn't think so."

There's a pause and he mutters, "I'm sorry."

"Dad," I lower my voice.  "You're a working, single father.  You're doing the best you can, and more."

"Doesn't make the situation any better, y'know?"

I giggle.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just, if I had a dollar every time you said 'y'know', I'd be able to pay my tuition. Twice."

He laughs.  I meant to make him laugh.  "I'll see you tonight, alright?"

I grin.   "Love ya, dad."

"Love ya."

We hang up and I call an Uber that's only 5 minutes away.  It arrives and I climb in the back seat.

"Hey Cameron," he says smiling at me in the rearview mirror.  "I'm Pete Wentz, I'll be your driver today."

"You can call me Cam."  I smile back and buckle my seatbelt.  "Pleasure to meet you."

"Where're you headed?"

"East 12th street."

I feel his astonished reaction from back here as we drive off.  "Damn, that's far."

"Normally, my dad drives me, but he's working late."

"Still.   That's an hour away with no traffic.  Why go to school out here?"

"My dad insisted.  Said it'd be best if I attended a Private High School.  Just wish he didn't have to work like a dog at a dead-end job to feed us."

I recall waking up one Saturday morning and my dad's door was wide open, revealing an empty bed.  After searching the house and realizing he didn't come home the previous night, I was about to go to the police station.  When I stepped outside, I saw our car at the end of the block, where I found him asleep in the backseat next to a couple of granola bar wrappers.  I didn't want to wake him, so I went back home and returned with a blanket for him and a book to keep me occupied as I sat in the front and kept him company.

There was also the time I woke up in the middle of the night to what sounded like gasping from his room, and ran in there to him having a panic attack on the bed.  I held his hand, instructing him to focus on me as I went through his breathing exercises until he calmed down, and slept on the floor because I was afraid to leave.   The next morning he told me he stopped taking his anti - anxiety medicine because they were too expensive, and it was that or groceries.

"Wait, sorry, I didn't mean to get sentimental --"

"No, it's okay.  Um, what about your mom if you don't mind me asking?"

"Died when I was little.  My dad's been raising me by himself since I was 5."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine.  We don't have much, but" I yawn.  "At least we have each other, y'know."

"We have a long drive ahead.  I don't mind waking you up."

"Thanks but I'll... try to..."  My eyes close and my head lightly collides with the window.

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