Matching Leather Jackets

Behind This Facade

As I step from the grasp of school, I almost throw my hands up. Only then, I think twice because, well, what the heck do I have to be happy about?

I know I'm in for another degree of trouble for going to the office. Dad's going to go ape shit tonight. I pray to God that he takes it easy on me, even if that's entirely against the reality of what will happen. I had gone to the office and they'd decided to call my father's cellphone. They don't know that he works and doesn't get off until seven... usually. They also don't know that nothing will ever, or can ever, get in the way of him and his precious job. Or his drinks. Not even an important phone call of such.

The music from my iPod blasts, making me wonder if anyone may be able to hear it. Who cares? I strap on my helmet and zip up my jacket, feeling a gust of wind whip my hair.

Directly before slipping the key into the ignition, a different motorcycle roars through the lot, so loud that I can hear it through my headphones. I turn my head towards a couple of spaces down to find Blake on a motorcycle, swinging it from the parking space achingly slowly.

Is he serious?

What the hell is he trying to pull here? With the jacket, the attitude, the motorcycle? This is such bullshit! Trying to put up that bad boy facade isn't going to work. I know him well enough to predict that.

He catches my eye and throws a wave, a sarcastic one. Instead of a wave, I throw the fuck you finger. Ignoring his semi-surprised reaction, my fingers twist the key and pull from my parking space.

***

"Rachael's performance is dropping rapidly," the woman across the desk from me states matter-of-factly. When she turns away I glance at her plaque. Ms. Lisek. She looks young to be a teacher, but I could see why they hired her; she most likely enjoys what she does, unlike teachers like Mr. Walsh.

She pulls a beige folder from her file cabinet with Rachael's name on it and opens it up. "This was the rank of Rachael's performance levels in September," she says, tapping her red pen on the paper. Cocking my head, my eyes focus on the fact that Rachael is ahead of standard.

"That's awesome," I smirk.

"Yes, but look at her performance levels now, in January." She turns the paper over and points to the basic level rank with a blue pen. I can tell she sees the frown on my face because then she says, "This is why I invited you here today. Don't worry; she still has the end of this marking period and the entire next marking period to work harder. I just wanted to make you aware, you know?"

"I appreciate that," I cough, trying to convince myself that I don't sound like a pansy.

She smiles. "I'm glad. Other than that, Rachael is a wonderful student. She has her head in the clouds a lot, but I still see potential in her, even though she is only a first grader. Come back anytime if you need anything, Penelope."

I nod and grab my backpack off the seat. I stop to wave, and then leave the classroom. That was surprisingly quick. I haven't ever had a meeting with Ray's teachers that ended so shortly.

"Penelope!" Rachael's tiny voice yells as she runs up from the chair she sat in outside of the classroom. I look around the hallway like I haven't seen her, just to make her smile.

"Oh, come on! Where is Ray?" I ask dramatically, spinning around in all directions, acting like I'm looking for her.

"I'm right here!" she pips, laughing in my direction.

"Hmph, I can't find her!" I whisper say, trying to hide the smile creeping to my lips. "Maybe she's outside."

"Penelope, I'm standing right here," she laughs, pulling the sleeve of my jacket.