A Table for Two?

The Great Depression

Chapter 8:

I never really hated my dad that much. I always liked him, when I was a little kid. He always took me to tee ball practice and took me to ice cream parlor so I can stuff myself up. I didn't like what he did to my mom later on, but he was always my dad. Always my friend.

I never talked to Valerie on Monday night. I was to busy throwing a ball up and down against the roof, just thinking of my dad. He's dead I thought. I never thought that my dad would die so young. I never thought of him dying. My mom cried the whole day and night, never even bothering to make dinner or take a shower. Just went up to her room, crying into her pillow all night. Crying herself to sleep, like the day she found out my dad was cheating on her.

I didn't know what to do after I heard he was dead. All I did was run up to my room, not even thinking about Valerie or Juan, just running up to my room and slamming the door shut. I laid in my bed for hours, thinking of the good times we had. Now we can't have anymore.

It was seven o'clock and I hadn't done anything. I had to snap back to reality. I realized that I hadn't started on my homework and eaten anything. My stomach was growling louder than the cracking noise I heard from Michaels nose. I needed to find something to eat. I went downstairs, and made myself two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Probably the only thing I can make. I then gobbled them down, using on five bites on both sandwiches and headed upstairs.

My homework wasn't that hard. Algebra was a piece of cake, world history was studying for a big test, English was always a pain but I still finished it, and P.E. I did ten push-ups. I always try to act and be buff. When I was done with everything, I went back on my bed. I never cried before. The only I cried was when my dad left us when I was nine. I cried for a long time, maybe days. But since then, I have never had a single drop of tears since then. That was until today.

Tuesday.

A day that I thought was going to be good. Valerie was at my school, My mom was going to make enchiladas, and we were going to do a science project in school. But I woke up weak as a kitten. I looked in the mirror and saw my eyes red, and my shirt wet from all the tears. It's look like I didn't notice how long I cried. I took a shower, but that didn't help regain my strength. I changed and walked downstairs.

My mom looked even worst than me. She was still in the same clothes from her work yesterday, and her eyes were bloodshot read. I guess we were both copying each other yesterday. She had made me French toast, but only two, and they weren't as good as the ones she made before. But with how she was feeling, I was going to let it slide. I packed up my backpack, grabbed y lunchbox (glad she packed food in there for me), and headed out.

I could not barely walk, my legs sore from sitting on my bed all day yesterday. It took me about fifteen minutes to go around the corner and across the street. When I finally found myself at the bus stop I saw Valerie and Juan.

"Whoa!" What happened to you?" Juan asked with shock in his tone.

".....I don't want to talk about it," I said.

"Ok," Juan said, throwing his hands up in the sky like he did something wrong. Valerie thought seemed concerned.

"Are you ok," she asked, with her sweet voice filling my ears.

"Yeah I'm fine," I responded, trying to act like I was fine. I really wasn't, but I didn't want to show them. Especially not Valerie. When the bus came, I went on it, last as usual. But I just wanted some time to pick up my feet and climb up the steps. When I got on the bus, I found an empty seat to myself and sat there looking out the window. While I was looking at cars go by, I heard something startled me.

"Fernando you don't have to be shy."