The Soccer Player (Slow updates, be warned)

The Soccer Player

The Soccer Player 

Chapter 1 

“See you after school!” I called to Chrietta. She and Benjamin jumped out from the car like lightning had struck their butts. We watched them go to the entrance. Benjamin went to the senior’s door, while Chrietta went to the sophomore’s door. 

 I sighed before closing the door. I nodded to Mom who stared ahead with blank eyes. Her eyes were glazed over, and she was simply staring out the front window. 

“Mom. Let’s go.” Mom didn’t speak as she pulled our car into gear. We curved around the back of the school, while getting a wonderful view of the dumpster.

That will wake you up in the morning.

Mom jerked the car to a stop. In the moment it took me to recover from my neck snapping, I looked up. Several teenagers were crossing the road hap-hazardly, giving no regards towards the angry woman driving a younger, annoyed woman. Mom honked and shrugged her shoulders. Several students gave us glares as they backed away from the area. High schoolers were so annoying and immature.

Even when I was one year old, I considered other high schoolers to be below me. I am, and was even then, a genius. Very smart and intellectual. Ask me anything, I’ll give you the answer. My Mom used to like to tell this story about when I was little, and outsmarted my Dad on a memory game. It only took me three turns to beat him. My heart felt a little heavier after the thought of Dad. I mised him so much.

I may be a genius, but I act shy in public, wearing geeky glasses and old sweaters that belonged to my grandma. Loose jeans and sneakers are casual for me. Pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose creates acne and only strengthens the nerdy appearance. But my appearance wasn't the biggest of my problems.

 Mom slowly pulled forward and the ground crunched beneath our tires. Kids rolled their eyes and were obviously showing their distaste for my mom and me. I stuck my tongue out, and even got a few chuckles from nearby guys. I glared at the immature youngsters. Who did they think they were? I was a college student. Even if I was being dropped off by my mother. 

Mom wheeled out of the school drop-off connection and speeded onto a nearby street. We twisted and turned until we eventually arrived at the Community College. I was all too ready to escape, and said a hasty goodbye before walking on campus.

I shook my head as I walked toward the English wing. Mom frustrated me. Ever since Dad died last year, she’s gone into depression. We all felt miserable, but my Mom had the longest lasting effects. It took her eight months to be able to sleep in their old room. She had slept on the living room couch until we had to sell it.

With the thought of selling the couch, something inside of me became irritable. Anyone who got in my way was going to be pulverized. 

***

I made it through my day with out a snare. Most people gave me my distance, and its not like I had very many friends at the Community College. I waited on a bench outside for Mom to pick me up, in her neutral, apathetic mood. I checked my wristwatch as she drove up, not even looking around for me. I sighed and popped into the front seat. 

We silently drove home, and I was already planning how I would solve the math problems from today's math lesson.

I silently wished to myself that I was still at Dartmouth. I was surrounded by other intellectuals, and school was never boring. It was the opposite at Grenwald Community College. I was almost done with my freshman year when Dad was diagnosed. They gave him six months to live, but he was gone in three. Dad was the moneymaker of the family, and when he died we had nothing. My mother   got an entry-level job at local fast food store, but it was barely enough for groceries. A wave of stress rode over me as i thought about the next few months. 

The reason I transferred to Grenwald was money. We coud no longer pay for my Ive League tuition. Sure I had scholarships, but they didn't cover everything. My hard earned education laid to waste.

Benjamin and Chrietta were lucky though; they didn't have to worry about financials, and I hadn't told them anything. When we sold the couch, I claimed it was because we needed a change of pace. That couch paid for a semester of advanced math for me. Mom, in her apathetic state, did nothing to sort out our finances. All the responsibility fell to me.