Despite the Pain

Chapter 26

Albion

The only thing I hated more than the endless list of questions Mrs. Reynolds spouted at me on a regular basis was physical therapy. The exercises she gave me to help with my balance had slowly waned in the past couple of months, disappearing entirely once I made the decision to walk around school on my own. She had decided that was more than enough to refine my coping mechanisms. The exercises for my hand and wrist had only gotten more frustrating and time consuming. I frowned as she tested my grip and manipulated my fingers, hoping she'd be finished soon.

"You remember you're adding another class on Monday, right?" Dad asked, dropping down into one of the chairs across from us. I looked up at him and nodded, fighting off a wince as Mrs. Reynolds bent back my hand.

"Sorry," she said. "Too far?"

"Um, yeah," I pulled my hand away and flexed my fingers.

"You're going to have to add in PE and Life Studies now," Dad said.

"Why?" I dropped my hand into my lap and looked over at him.

"You agreed to a full course load before the end of the year," he pointed out. I let out an indignant sigh at the reminder. The two classes alternated in the same slot of my class schedule, with a study hall filling in the extra day at the end of the week. "We've put that rotation off as long as we could."

"What th-the hell are they g-going to do with me in gym?" I snapped, turning back to Mrs. Reynolds as she positioned my arm for more exercises.

"Watch your language," Dad said.

"You won't be required to participate," she said, lining up her fingers with mine to give me resistance to push against. "You do have to attend the class though, that's part of the deal."

"It's a st-stupid part of the deal," I muttered.

"You still agreed to it," Dad pointed out. "And we got you out of that stupid Life Studies final, but you still have to go to the class."

"Why?" I demanded. I jerked my hand away from Mrs. Reynolds' and rubbed my palm with my thumb, trying to work out the cramp that was starting. "There's n-no p-point. Even you s-say it's st-stupid." Mrs. Reynolds gave him a pointed look.

"It's a requirement, Al," Dad sighed, shifting forward and leaning his elbows on his knees. "It doesn't matter what anyone thinks of it."

"Why is it req-quired of me?" I rubbed my hand over my eye as the muscles around it began to twitch. "I'm useless and rem-minded of it every d-damn day. Why d-do I have to g-go to this class and p-pretend I'm not all of a s-sudden?"

"Because you're not going to move on with the class without it," Dad said. "That's the deal."

"Fuck the deal."

"Albion," he snapped.

"No!" I shifted forward. "None of that p-productive member of society bullsh-shit applies to me. You c-can't even pretend it d-does. What is that class g-going to do but rub all th-this in my face? That I'll n-never even--hold down a real job, let alone 'contribute to society'. And I'm certainly n-not g-going to fucking end up m-married. Or saddling s-someone with children I c-can't even help raise."

"Al," Dad let out a pained sigh, closing his eyes for a moment and rubbing his hand over his face. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

"Why?" I demanded. "B-because they're t-true?" He didn't even have a response.

"They're only true if you let them be," Mrs. Reynolds said quietly after a moment of tense silence.

"Shut up!" I snapped, pushing myself up off the couch. "You don't know, you s-said yourself you're j-just making th-this up as you g-go." I turned away from them, ignoring my father calling after me as I moved down the hall. Buddy darted into the bedroom ahead of me, turning around and staring at me as I slammed the door shut.