Olympus Drive Book 2: Nothing to See Here

Chapter 54

Dean'

Things aren't going very well for me. That's an understatement, really. I spent last night with my mother, watching TV, and lying on the sofa feeling weak. This morning I couldn't wake up. I was there, but I wasn't really conscious all. I could hear was my mother crying. She called 911 and it turns out I'm 'anemic'. I was given iron and told to drink water. I insisted on going to school, saying I was fine and it was stupid. It isn't stupid. It's to do with the raves. Somehow, I'm sick since we didn't have one. And I'm feeling worse as the day goes on, not better.

"How come you missed first period?" Maya asks, leaning against the lockers next to me, staring at her planner, which is filled with more doodles than actual plans.

"I was tired this morning; my mom was dramatic about it. How are you?" she doesn't look well. Her family sucks. She hasn't told me a lot but I know her family is super religious which usually translates to close minded and punishment oriented. I also know she came out to them last year and it didn't go well at all.

"My mom found my tumblr account and now she took my phone and my laptop and I have three assignments on it I need to get and I can't bring my grades up if I lose half my stuff," she says, wiping her face with a hand, "I just give up."

"Hey, we'll work it out. You can borrow a laptop from me, my mom has an old one I've just been messing with to have two monitors—I'll wipe it and bring it in tomorrow. And I can probably get my hands on a phone," I say, quickly. She's already tried to commit suicide once. Taylor and I found her in the school bathroom with a razor blade. Her parent's response was to send her a pseudo conversion therapy camp which did not help. Her psychiatrist is an old man who recommends dating nice Christians and focusing on academics and exercise. So that's not helpful.

"It won't work; my dad'll just take them away," she mumbles, "Never mind it doesn't matter. I just---I had all my music on my phone and now I can't get to sleep."

"Why don't you come and stay over for few days? My mom has a spare bedroom, you can have the laptop, listen to music, and chill that no one will walk in your room or anything," I offer. My mom wouldn't keep my dad if she weren't this fond of charity. She'll jump at the idea. She and I have known Maya since elementary school. "You could stay at my dad's house as well, no one would bother you there because-- I speak from experience here---they will easily forget you are even there for about a week."

"I don't know," she says, shrugging, "My parents would never agree."

"My parents can be persuasive----we don't have to tell anyone you're moving out. Just----we have three months till you turn eighteen. We can do this. You know what-------why don't you come with me to a party tonight?" everyone is always happy there. And drunk as she was Debbie would have gone anywhere I suggested.

"What party?" she asks.

"I heard some people were meeting up, out in the woods, just drinks and music. Come dance a little," I say, smoothly, "Have some fun for a change. They took away your study materials anyway."

"I don't know. Where am I gonna tell them I am?" she asks.

"Say you're studying at my house and had to stay over because of the rain," I say. They like me because for whatever reason they think that I'm a good influence because my mom used to be a youth pastor before she met my dad.  "After the party you can come crash at my place. Then we'll say you have the flu and need bed rest. Pretty soon a week has gone by, my siblings will all be calling you 'Cousin Maya who lives here', you'll be added to a couple of completely non-sensical group chats, and one day you'll find yourself in school, being aggressively parented by two people who have absolutely no relation to you what so ever, who are alternately arguing about how to parent you, and apologizing for not being good enough dads to you despite not being in a relationship and not having met you until this week."

"My parents are gonna freak and call the cops if I stay away from home that long," she says, sniffling, but sounding a little happier.

"Did I mention that at least one of the people aggressively parenting will be a cop?" I ask, smiling, "Trust me, I've got this. Just let me help you. Wouldn't it be nice just to be taken care of and not have to worry?"

"Yeah---yeah---okay," she nods.

"Okay, you can come with me after school, we'll go to the party, then we'll go home," I say, hugging her around her shoulders, "Okay?"

"What about my clothes?"

"I'm already texting my brother to break into your house and get your stuff from your room," I say, as I text Thyme.

"People will be home—"

"I just said 'conservative white people will be there' and he said 'I've been training for this' so I think he's got it," I say, giving her a squeeze.

"What does being aggressively parented mean?" she asks, laughing a little.

"You'll know when you're sitting in a parent teacher conference with two people who are not at all your dad, both apologizing for not being a better dad to you, while at least one of them is in handcuffs."