Growing Pains

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Ryan had begun sneaking out of the house. Not that he hadn’t done it before, but after the blowout that was last week, he had decided to skip the front door altogether. 

Ryan was using Riley’s fire escape to avoid their parents. It was quick, it was easy, and it kept him from having to confront the consequences of his actions, which he especially loved. 

It was much harder to avoid his dad during school, however. Unfortunately enough. 

"Ryan, can we talk?" his father came up to his desk before class started. Ryan crossed his arms and leaned back. 

"What's there to talk about? Class is starting, and I'd really like to learn something today, so, " he leaned his elbows against the desk and shooed his father away as the bell rang, a false smile on his face. 

Cory shook his head and moved toward his own desk. 

Ryan shut his eyes tightly and squeezed his fist shut for three seconds before letting go, breathing out as he did so. Why couldn't his parents let it go? Why did they always have to fight? 

Why do they hate him? 

As Ryan was having his own crisis in his own head, Riley was having her’s out loud. 

“I don’t like change, change fills my pockets with pennies of uncertainty,” Riley complained, sitting down at her desk. 

Ryan raised an eyebrow at her. “Wow, Riley, that was surprisingly poetic.”

She smiled. “Thanks, I got it from a magazine article about coins.”

Ryan shut his eyes, trying not to laugh as class continued on. 

“Alright,” Cory began the class, “Shall we actually, finally learn what happened in Belgium 1831?”

“No,” Farkle pouted, “You always get my hopes up and every time something new happens that keeps us from actually getting to it. So, no.”

Cory laughed. “In Belgium-”

“No! Just wait for the thing to happen!” Farkle yelled. As he did so, someone opened the door. 

“What? Y’all started without me?” A boy with dark skin and green flannel walked into the classroom. 

“Look! I’m always right! And I’ll never know what happened in Belgium,” Farkle cried into his desk. Ryan laughed, patting him on the arm. 

“You can just read about it.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Somebody in this room is gonna be very surprised to see me,” the new kid bragged. 

Riley looked up. “Is it me?”

“Don’t know sugar, but could you be any cuter?” He replied sweetly. Ryan rolled his eyes. 

“Well I can’t answer that,” Riley laughed. 

“You got a transcript, kid?” Cory asked him. The kid handed over the papers he was carrying in his hand. 

“I do. Check out them grades, here, let me sing it to you, De,de de, de de, de f.”

Maya nodded along happily. “Hey, I know that song.”

“Is it because you don’t have a backpack?” Ryan asked him. “Teachers are real big on those.”

The kid nodded. “Hey, maybe. Do you have one?” He asked Maya. She shook her head. “Nope, just a bag full of loose papers and,” she picked up her bag to rifle through it for a second, “ritz crackers.”