Motherless

Summer School Blues

I sat at the kitchen table, poking at my cereal, the loops of rainbow colors floating lazily in the milk. It was already hot outside, the kind of heat that makes you want to stay in the cool shadows of the house and do absolutely nothing. But no. Today, I had to go to summer school. 

I glanced over at Mom, who was leaning against the counter, sipping her coffee like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. She was way too chipper for a morning like this. 

"Do I *really* have to go?" I asked, breaking the silence. 

"Yes, you really have to go," she said, not even looking up from her cup. 

I slumped in my chair, letting the spoon clatter into the bowl dramatically. "But it's *summer*! Who even goes to school in the summer? Isn't that illegal or something?" 

Mom chuckled, shaking her head. "Illegal? Nice try, Talia. But no. You missed a lot of school this year, and if you don't go to summer school, you're going to have to repeat seventh grade. And I know you don't want that." 

"But what if I do?" I tried, even though we both knew I didn't. 

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't." 

I crossed my arms. "There has to be another way. Like... can't I just do some work at home? You could teach me!" 

"Not during the summer, sweetheart," Mom said firmly, setting her coffee cup down and coming to sit across from me. "I don't work during the summer, remember? And even if I did, you need to be in school, with teachers and classmates. You'll catch up and be ready for eighth grade." 

"But what if I just don't go and—" 

"Nope." Mom cut me off, giving me *the look*. It was that soft but serious mom look that meant the conversation was over. 

I sighed, resting my chin on my hand. "This is going to ruin my whole summer." 

"Not if I have anything to say about it," she said, leaning closer and ruffling my hair. "We're going to make the most of your summer, I promise. There's still going to be plenty of time for fun stuff—beach trips, movie nights, maybe even ice cream after school if you're not too grumpy about it." 

I tried not to smile, but the thought of ice cream almost made me cave. Almost. "But you're not even going to be there," I said, a little quieter this time. 

"Nope, because I don't work in the summer," she said again. "But you're going to be fine, Talia. It's just a few hours a day. You'll make it through, and then we'll have the rest of the day to do something fun." 

I stared at her for a long moment. She looked so confident, so sure that everything would be okay. I wanted to believe her. 

"You promise we'll do fun stuff?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her. 

"I promise," she said, holding up her hand like she was taking an oath. "Cross my heart, hope to—" 

"Okay, okay," I cut her off, rolling my eyes. "Fine. I'll go. But I'm not happy about it." 

"Noted," she said with a grin. 

I dragged myself out of the chair and put my bowl in the sink, rinsing it off while Mom grabbed her keys from the counter. 

"Finish up and grab your bag," she said, motioning toward the door. "The car's already cooled off, and we don't want to be late on your first day of summer school." 

I muttered something under my breath about how I'd rather be late, but I grabbed my backpack anyway. As I followed her out to the car, I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit better. Sure, summer school was the last thing I wanted to do, but if anyone could make it bearable, it was Mom.