Trevek: Hosting Feelings

Car Sick

Derek's POV:
You know, it's funny; I was always the first in line to any thrill ride or rollercoaster. Monorails, no matter how high, never phased me. The tilt-o-whirl had nothing on my stability or lunch and rollercoasters? Forget about making me toss my cookies on those. So why is it every time I climb into her SUV and slam the door, I start getting car sick.

I guess to be fair, it wasn't exactly motion sickness that made me queasy.

With my backpack in my lap and Trevor to my left, I watch as the car rolls to a stop behind an uber driver; the red of the traffic light drowned out by the shine of the sun. Only 5 minutes from Trev's place, and I already wanted to hurl.

"You sure you wouldn't rather ride in the passenger's seat, son? More room if you ask me." My mother says smoothly from the front; her expression shielded somewhat by her thick rhinestone sunglasses. Although I couldn't see them, I knew her eyes were on me. I could feel it, like piercing daggers of malice.

"Nah, that's ok, mom, I needed to look over this science assignment with Trevor." I say evenly while simultaneously reaching into my backpack to pull out a science workbook. I don't even have to glance at Trevor for him to catch on.

"Yeah, Mrs. Johnson, we just want to make sure our answers made sense one last time. Mr. Salz can be really strict." Trev delivers casually, almost playfully as he grips the book to scan one side.

The page, of course, is barren of any marks or signs that it was ever opened, but Trev really delivers when it counts. His firm grip, concentrated expression, and the light pencil tap of concentration is especially convincing. Atta boy.

"Ah, I see." My mother counters. "I can admire a man who has strict policies. Expectations that hinge on the success of his pupils. He probably has little patience for lazy, half-hearted attempts at assignments, too, because that proves his methods of teaching were ineffective, and if you fail...well, in a way, he fails." My mother says matter of factly, the car gaining speed every second as we merge on to the freeway.

My mother delievers her not so subtle jab at my poor grade, which felt more like a close-fisted knockout punch from Mike Tyson, with all the sweet sounding drawl she can muster. Her alluding to the fact that I failed her in some regard was not lost on me either.

Time for some damage control.

"You're absolutely right, mom. Mr Salz is a fantastic educator who doesn't settle for the low effort of the common student. He's practically a genius the way the material is taught to us in a way we can comprehend and expound on it. You hit the nail on the head when you mentioned success; that's what he wants us all to strive for." I say brightly.

This is good. If there are two things my mother loves, it's being right and being told how she's right.

"We're lucky to have him as a teacher." I say with a hint of admiration in my voice.

My mother smiles at my newfound appreciation for my physics teacher. Bingo.

"Well, Derek, I must say, I'm relived you have such vigor for science." My mother states as I relax slightly for the first time since seeing her.

"If only Mrs. Cooper was as good a teacher as Mr. Salz; maybe then you would have passed that test she distributed."

My 3 seconds of ease was followed by a billowing wave of tight muscles and nauseous pains. Dammit, she's pissed.

"Oh, I'm really sorry about the grade, I,..." she cuts me off swiftly

"Nonsense, son, it's clearly your teacher's fault; must not take her job seriously enough if she let one of her students sink so low." She chuckles.