Big Men of the House(56)

“How was finals?” he asked in a deep voice.



“Oh they were just fine,” I said, trying not to make eye contact with him. I didn't want him to see right through me. I walked upstairs to my bedroom and crashed on my bed. All the emotions of the day compounded into a massive cry fest that left me sobbing for hours.



A knock at the door, interrupted my sadness. “Is everything all right in there?” my mom asked. “I thought I heard you crying.”



“No Mom, I'm fine,” I said, clearing my eyes of any leftover tears just in case she opened the door.



“Well I just wanted to let you know that dinner is ready.”



“Thanks mom!” I called back.







A couple weeks later we got the announcement that our report cards were shipping home. The verification that I received an F already came from my teacher. I tried to plead with him one last time to let me make it up for at least half credit. He wouldn't budge.



My plan was to get to the mailbox before my stepdad every day of the week until the report card arrived. It wouldn't be too hard to skip my last class for only a few days. The last week of school didn't matter much anyways since grades were already finalized.



I arrived home an hour before my father and checked the mailbox. I went through the letters and found one marked from the school. I took the letter out and left the rest in the mailbox so my stepdad wouldn't know that anything was touched.



“How was school?” my mom asked as I walked in through the front door.



I quickly hid the letter behind my back. “It was great! I can't wait for Summer.” My mom looked suspiciously at my hands behind my back but didn't say anything.



I ran upstairs and closed the door behind me. My heart was beating out of my chest. I thought my mom was going to ask about my grades. I had dodged a bullet.



I opened up the envelope and pulled the pink thin paper out. All A's except for the one glaring F. I got so mad that I crumpled up the paper and threw it across the room and into my closet. I lay on my bed, wondering if they already knew about my grade. It would get even worse when they realized I was lying to them the whole time.



I got up and picked up the crumpled paper on the ground. I couldn't leave the only evidence just sitting around. I uncrumpled it and then tore it into fine pieces. I threw them in the wastebasket and went to my mirror to work on my performance for later that evening. I was going to lie and tell my parents that I got straight A's again.







That night at dinner, I casually slipped it into conversation. “Hey guys, I don't want to brag but I got straight A's again.”



My parents glanced at each other and smiled. “Congratulations, Abby!” my mom yelled.



She stood up from the table and came over to hug me. Daniel gave me a high-five. “Nice work, champ.”



My palms were sweating and I was just waiting for them to bring up the report card.



“Bring down your report card and I'll put it on the fridge,” my mom said.



My heart jumped into my throat. They didn't want confirmation, they wanted to celebrate.



“I haven't gotten it yet. But all my teachers let me know that I got an A. It should come in the mail any day now.”



“Great news! We should doing something fun this weekend,” my mom said to Daniel.



“Yeah we can go out to dinner as a family,” he said.



“Sounds good to me,” I replied, acting excited.



I had gotten through it. My parents bought the lie and now I just needed them to forget all about the report card. If they asked me again about it, I could just tell them it might've gotten lost in the mail. I was home free.



Or so I thought.









On the last day of school, we got out early and I went home to change before hanging out with friends. Summer was finally here and I was going to make the most of it.



When I pulled my car into the driveway, I noticed Daniel's car sitting in the garage. My mom and him should both be at work so I was curious as to why he was home so early.



I went inside. “Hey Daniel, I'm home!” I called out.



“Up here!” his voice yelled from somewhere upstairs.



I climbed the stairs and realized that his voice came from my room. What was he doing in there?



I went to my doorway to find my stepdad sitting on the edge of the bed. Laying next to him was my crumpled up report card, except it wasn't crumpled up anymore.



“What are you doing in here?” I asked, my voice raised. The anger was bubbling in my throat. Fear had a stranglehold over me.



“I found this in your trash bucket,” Daniel said, picking up the report card. “Can you explain this?