Different colored minds

Tardy

JOE POV

I sit at the curb. I'm waiting for Steven. My eyes glance at my watch. We have twenty minutes before school starts and he's not here. Not only that but the first game is here... the first game to avoid. I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.
"Hello?" I look at the name before holding it up to my ear. It's Steven.
"I don't think I can pick you up today, some stuff came up. I'll see you later." And then the line goes dead.
I take a moment to pause and control the anger now bubbling up inside me. I take my hands and press them hard into the ring around the wheels and twist my chair around.
"I need a ride," I'm yelling as I attempt to open the door with my remaining foot. Finally I pry it open and force myself inside.
"What?" My mom is on the couch in the living room.
"you always drive with Steven?" My mom's eyebrows crease. I take a deep breath. Steven never cancels. This can't have been a coincidence. But my parents wouldn't be able to take it if I tell them something else is up.
"Not today. Now I'm gonna be late if we don't go now. So can you or dad please take me?"
"I'll take you, just give me a minute to get my clothes on," my mom is still in curlers and a bright pink bathrobe. I sigh. This will not be a minute.
"Fine. But that's it." I say. She chuckles and races off down the hall in slippered feet. I sit in my wheelchair with my foot tapping against the foot rest. What is wrong with Steven? There's this feeling in my gut it's something more than meets the eye, but for the life of me I don't know what's wrong with him. I understand why he wants me to take part in society again, I understand why he wants me to still guide the team. But those are his expectations of me, which does not  parallel the expectations I have for myself. Just because someone might have passion, it does not equate to being right. That dominion lies in the heavens.

I turn my wheelchair towards my mom's room. I don't know why I'm getting upset, there's no point in stressing about something I can't change. But all I keep thinking is that if my mom could just get faster then I wouldn't have to wait as long. But I know if I actually say anything out loud it will only distract her and end up taking longer to get to school in the long run. And that, would definitely be worse. I may be okay with offering myself on the Precipice of tardy slips, I am not however, ready to offer myself completely to missing first period.

"Okay, let's go," my mom appears, still pulling out curlers from her hair. I let out a brief smile. Never mind. Looks like we'll be making good time.
And so, for the first time since I was 7 I do not drive to school with my best friend. I drive with my mom. For some reason this feels important, like this event is set in place and marks a change between our connection. I clench my fist as my mom helps me into the car. The trees melt by with my mom's happy chattering about how she and I get to spend some time together. I press my index finger on the window button. The window slides down. I take a deep breath. Steven's windows roll up manually. He says he wants to rebuild a classic one day if he has the money. He said that when he does he's recruiting me to work on it too. I hope we're still on for that.

And then comes math class. She's so weird. She makes me laugh. She has her hand wedged under her cheek with her elbow resting on the desk. She looks so scattered in everything she does. She's a whirl wind. A sweet spring breeze maybe.

"Can you help me with this problem?" Another kid asks her. She sits there and lets them eat away the minutes of class. My arms are over the desk and my face is facing hers. She glances over. I look away. I didn't even catch myself that time. Everytime I look at my math homework she does something else to grab my attention. She does soemthing weird again. She's so speratic and yet somehow specific. She's so odd.

When the bell rings I let myself be late to the next class just to watch her stumble around trying to find her next stop. She looks like a deer in the headlights. I watch her walk away. And now my heart hurts in a very different way. The way it hurt about her.

We're done, I'm done with love. I need to focus on surviving. I don't need another thing to make me numb. I need to get my life together. And that only happens on my end. I need to get my life in order so my dad doesn't kick me out of the house. So he doesn't threaten me. Make me want to end it all. I have to get out from under his heavy hand and then I can worry about finding The girl who will be with what my dad terms a cripple.

My own thoughts are cold in my mind. I don't want this place. But I never want any place. I just get bored and chase the next high. That's what my life has been until now. But I need to have better priorities now. I can't fuck around and fuck up my life more. Maybe my mom was right, maybe she should have never let my dad let me on the team. It surely would have given my dad more freetime.

I did it because he was proud. I did it because he did it first. He loved that I did a sport. He loved that I loved what he loved. He finally had the boy he always wanted. And under those conditions, it's easy to love me. It's an easy conditional love that he wants. Someone to fulfill the dreams he's been waiting to fulfill for himself. And hopefully one day I'd have gotten famous. Dominated the sports field. And then make it big. I could have been...

But not now.

I can't be famous now. I'm just a cripple. Just like my dad says.