Growing Pains

Chapter 13 - This was a hostile work environment

Z O E Y

Sam opened the door for me almost immediately after I rang the bell. I was surprised his parents had called me to babysit him again, because I had forgotten all about his bedtime last time and let him stay up reading comics with me. He had pretended to be asleep when they got home that night, but I had been pretty sure they had seen right through it.

Apparently not, because when they called they said I had been great, so great that Sam had asked when I would be back, which was a first, because, apparently, Sam never got a liking to any of the babysitters his parents had gotten him over the years.

"Hi!" he said as soon as he saw me in front of him again, a big, big smile on his face. "Can we please, please, please go finish that book we started –"

"You didn't finish it yet?" I asked.

"I was waiting for you."

I could cry, "Really? That's one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me."

"You have really low standards," was Sam's immediate conclusion.

"What do even you know about standards?" I laughed, following him into the living room.

"Well, Tristan says dad's standards are the lowest they can get because he married Linda," he said, looking guilty right after, "I probably shouldn't have said that."

"Oh, Linda's not your mom?" I asked. Maybe I shouldn't.

"No," he said, shaking his head very matter-of-factly. "She's my step-mom. I do call her mom though, but only to make dad happy."

"That's very nice of you," I said.

"Tristan doesn't like it." Tristan seemed to be the main character of Sam's life.

"Well, we can't please everyone, can we?" I asked, letting him drag me down the hall. I stopped him when he tried to take me up the stairs, pointing at the dining table in the living room where he had dropped his school bag and his blazer jacket. His shoes had been left by the door this time.

He frowned, "What?"

"You don't have homework?"

He frowned some more, "Tristan says homework's stupid."

"Because it is," someone said from behind me. I cursed under my breath and prayed Sam hadn't heard it. By the kitchen door, Tristan seemed unimpressed by the apple he was eating, or forcing himself to.

I decided not to entertain him, thinking he would get the hint and just walk past us and into his bedroom like last time, but he didn't. He just stood there, slowly chewing. I realized too late that he had a pocketknife in his hand. He was using it to cut the apple, like a walking cliche.

"Tell her why," Sam said. I wished he hadn't.

Tristan ate another piece of apple, straight from the knife's blade, and said, no, just like that. I almost laughed. Except I would be laughing at something Tristan said, and I would rather hold it than give him that kind of satisfaction.

Instead, I started, "Well, I personally think if you do your homework now, tomorrow, when you go over it in class, you'll get to participate, and show your teachers you're a good student. If you keep doing your homework and participating, your teachers will eventually declare you as one of the good ones, and that comes with a lot of privileges. It means you do not need constant supervision. It means your teachers will assume you know the answers in class, and so they won't ask you questions in front of everyone when you least expect it. You know, stuff like that. Plus, if you do your homework, you won't need to study so much when your exams come. You're helping the future you, Sam, think about it."