Breathe Easy

|9.| Coming off the hinges

"Come on, get your backpack. We've got to go," I hissed at Freya as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and staggered toward the door.

She took her time getting out of the door, trudging like a zombie and it took every bit of the little patience I had left to not shout in her face and get physical. I know what you're thinking: That's a little bit aggressive. I am aware, but to fair, we had a few problems this morning.

One, I am not in any shape or form a morning person, neither is Freya, so if you put two people who hate mornings together at 7:00 on a Monday morning then they are bound to butt heads; even if the age gap is precisely 20 years apart and the older one should be more mature and patient.

Two, neither of us knew what time class started at her school. I would think that since she'd been going to the place just about every day almost two months now she'd at least know what time it began but maybe kids don't keep up with time? Of course I had to remember that she'd missed a lot of school days due to the death of her parents... But still.

Three, there was nothing but hot pockets to eat because Camila had made all of the breakfast Saturday. Freya had a problem with hot pockets, of course, and refused to eat it. After a couple of minutes of trying to reason with her, I lost my patience and screamed, "JUST GO AHEAD AND FUCKING STARVE THEN".

She called me mean and started crying, ran into my room and locked me out of it.

Freya stayed in there for about fifteen minutes, but when she came out she had on her clothes. She had looked up at me expectantly, like she was hoping that her doing so on her own would make me less angry. I'd dropped down in a squat and pulled her into a hug and said my apologies and kissed her on the forehead, all that good stuff adults do to win kids' hearts back.

It really did pain me to see that I'd upset her, though. Seeing those beady eyes red and watery would pain anyone.

As we raced down the stairs and out of the apartment complex, I hoped that every morning wouldn't be as frustrating and rushed. Freya climbed into the jeep and I followed closely behind her, readying to buckle her in.

"You do know what the name of your school is, don't you?" I asked.

Her eyes shifted to the ceiling, the floor, to me and she proceeded to make an annoying humming sound. Seemed like this was going nowhere.

"Is it Palmetto Elementary?"

She nodded excitedly. "Yes, that's it."

Shaking my head, I closed the car door and made my way to the other side with my phone in hand. I pressed in the name on the GPS and found a quick route to the school, no less than ten minutes away. We made a quick stop at a McDonald's to order some breakfast; three biscuits for each of us, including Camila, a frappe for me, and six hashbrowns for me because I love those things. Freya didn't want any so I figured I should save like, two for Camila. Or just one. Yeah, one.

When we made it to the school there was a line of cars, people letting their kids out out front. That was good. That meant we weren't late. That meant I made a good ass guess. It was 7:55 now. I veered into the parking lot - hitting the curb and nearly mowing down a hedge in the process - and parked in a handicap space closest to the entrance, not giving a single fuck about the consequence.

"C'mon, let's go, I'm walking you in," I said, and hopped out.

Freya scurried to catch up with me walking down the sidewalk. I fetched for her hand and lead her across the driveway

"Did you look both ways?" Freya beamed whenever I looked down at her.

"Did we get hit?"

She glanced back at the line of cars passing, then at me again. "Nope."