Running from something // mgc

Study Group

"Kiara, get down here now!" My father shouts up the stairs.

Oh, sh*t. He's seen my school report, then. Typical. I had changed the password to the school progress updates account -what a stupid idea of my school by the way- and threw away the physical copy, but no matter how hard I tried to conceal the evidence, parents always find a way. I make my way downstairs, nervous to say the least.

"Yeah, dad?" I asked innocently when I got into the kitchen. He turned around with my school report in one hand, phone in the other. He glares at me and slams the report down on the table in front of me.

"Do you want to explain this to me?" He gestured towards the crumpled piece of failure that is my education.

Not really.

"Um, I haven't seen it yet?" It came out as more of a question.

"Well, that's clearly a lie. Do you want to know how I know that, Kiara?" He fumed. I shrugged, looking down at my feet and fidgeting.

"The school called. Apparently, they have to call the ten students with the lowest grades' parents to discuss why they are doing so sh*ttily. When I said I hadn't seen your report they informed me that the password to your school progress account had been changed yesterday to: 'lolmylifesamess'. Do you think that's funny? Do you think it's funny that you're going to end up living off the government with no future, no job, no money? It will get to the point when you're paying for gas with all the change in your car! Is that what you want, Kiara?"

I shrugged again, not knowing what to say. Obviously, I've thought about all the things he's saying but to be honest it's not my fault if I'm a failure at life. Maybe I'm just not good at stuff.

"Do you know what I think really is funny? I was taking out the bins and I found this," he picked up the report "this crumpled old beacon of sh*t. You went that far to pretend that you were actually doing okay in school, and that is sad. That's really just pathetic." He let out a long breath and collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. He buried his face in his hands and tugged on his hair. I awkwardly sat down opposite him, not sure if he wanted me to stay or not.

"What happened, then?" He asked half-heartedly.

"I don't know, I just don't understand anything they try and teach me. I can't do it, so I don't, I guess." I mumbled.

"Kiara, I've been a loser. I know losers, okay? You're not going to be one of them. Not my daughter."

"Well, what else am I going to be? I'm not going to go to college, I don't have the brains. I don't have some kind of amazing musical talent to fall back on so what am I? I'm just one of those people that fall into the category of nothing, one of those people that God forgot to do anything with because he was busy making people like Kurt Cobain." Dad rolled his eyes.

"Well, if you don't have the brains you'll have to get them. The school has helpfully offered for you to join the study groups they run and we'll also get you a tutor."

F*ck no.

"Dad no, those study groups are full of hormonal teenagers who have to go otherwise they'll be kicked out of school, it's like detention except they make you learn how to count to ten!"

"Well, those kids don't sound too far off from you, so if I were you I wouldn't look down on the people who are in the exact same position and maybe you can all pick each other out of the gutter."

"Dad, I'll probably be the only girl, it's not for people like me! It's for the kids who mess around and get in trouble with the law! I just got behind on a few reading assignments, that's all!"