22

 

My dad tried a new approach when he got home.

He acted like he was my best buddy.

“I totally get what you’re doing,” he said, sitting down next to me on the couch, munching on a cookie. “I do. You’re too busy, you’re feeling too much pressure, why should a young kid like you have to worry about looking good for college. I totally get it. Let’s figure out how to fix it.”

“I know how to fix it,” I said. “I want to quit karate and soccer and tennis and Chinese. No more tutors. And no more test-prep classes.”

My dad’s smile started to look a little forced. “Can I get you a bowl of ice cream while we talk about it?”

“No thanks. I’m having dessert with Nana.”

“Honey?” he yelled to my mom. “I need to talk to your mother.” I was pretty sure he was going to tell her to stop making my couch life so much fun.

He turned back to me. “How about we compromise? You can definitely not do the tennis lessons that I just signed you up for.”

“Not good enough.”

The smile disappeared completely. “Well in any case, you need to go back to school while we figure this out. You can’t miss any more school, you’ll fall behind.”

“Mrs. Bender said she’d send all my work home,” I said, referring to my teacher with the tiny mustache.

“She did, did she? Well, I’m going to call her right now.”

My dad went into the kitchen, mumbling under his breath. The mumbling got louder when he couldn’t find the school phone book. Then the mumbling turned into actual cursing when he couldn’t find the phone itself. Finally, he found everything he was looking for, and the cursing became mumbling again.

“Yes, hello, this is Jack Strong’s father … Yes, nice to speak with you as well … It is a strange situation, indeed … I just can’t have him falling behind on his schoolwork, on top of everything else … Yes … I see … Of course, of course … Well, thank you very much for your time.”

He marched back into the TV room.

“She says what you’re doing is part of the tradition of free speech and expression that makes this country great,” he said.

Ah, good old Mrs. Bender.

“Leo’s brother Marcus said the same thing,” I told my dad. “He thinks I’m doing a great thing, and he’s going to write an article about me in the school newspaper.”

That was the end of my dad being nice. It was also the end of my dad trying to change my mind.

“Fine,” he announced. “It’s your life. Stay on that couch forever for all I care. I’m going to eat dinner, do some work, and then take the dog for a walk, and actually live like a normal human being. You should try it sometime.” He got up from the couch. “Call me when you’re ready to get back to real life. Until then, I’m done.” And he walked out of the room.

He passed my mom, who was bringing me dinner.

“He’ll calm down,” she whispered to me. “He doesn’t mean it. Things will be fine in a little while.”

But they weren’t.

My dad didn’t talk to me again for two days.