Misfit Theater Company (Wattys Winner 2018)

11. What Happens in the Shed, Stays in the Shed

           

Mom is so happy when I get home that her response to "I'm going over to Thatcher's house again" is something so entirely out of character for her, I'm almost stunned into staying and making sure she hasn't been body snatched.

"Go over there as much as you need to, because you need to make sure you study with him again. He is a great help," she says.

"Oh, um, okay, sounds good," I stutter. "Thanks Mom."

Now I'll really test her to make sure she hasn't been replaced by some alien with no idea how protective my mom truly is.

"So, Thatcher wants to come over to walk me back to his house. Is that okay?"

The moment of truth. She gazes off, slowly nodding. "Yes, that should be fine. He seemed like a nice boy."

She's been snatched. That's it.

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah, why not?" she responds, nonchalantly. Then, probably because she's realized that the question she's asked might not be rhetorical, she asks again, this time more suspiciously, "Why not?"

I laugh. "No reason, it's just that... well, I feel like you would have never let a boy walk me anywhere before. Especially not at night, and especially not a boy you just met."

She inhales deeply, her eyes closed, probably planning her best apology for all of that. Or something. "You're right," she admits. "But... I also need to recognize when you have people in your corner who are also going to make sure you're on the right track. People like Mrs. Thomas. People like Thatcher. Really, I just don't trust Gina, and being that she was your closest and really only friend outside of school for so long, I didn't want to give up the reigns."

"You can trust me, though. Like, by myself. I won't do anything."

She kisses my forehead. "I trust you, it's other kids that I don't trust. The people you surround yourself with influence your future more than you do sometimes. I'm just glad to see you're making better choices now that you're in theater."

"Thanks. I promise, though, that I'll always be myself."

"Easier said than done, but... I will work harder to trust that you won't give in to peer pressure." She rubs my arm before changing the subject. "When will Thatcher be here to pick you up?"

I check my phone. There's a text from Gina waiting for me along with a message from Thatcher. I read his message first: "Leaving now," it reads. It was sent two minutes ago.

"Any second now," I say, as I hit the text app.

"Where did you go today?" she asked. Then she sent a second text about five minutes after: "I'm so happy we have a class together now!!!"

"Well, don't forget to bundle up. Text me when you and Thatcher are heading back, so I can make sure you get here safely," Mom says before heading into the kitchen.

"Will do," I say as I type a text back to Gina.

"Me too," I write in response to her. "But I wish you told me. Your group is going to take the play my group wanted to do now." I send the message, but immediately feel bad.

Gina probably went through a lot of trouble to get switched in the theater class, and it's not her fault that Layla and Patti are fighting over a one act. It's not my fault either. "Oh well, we will find a new play. I'm happy I can see you in class every day now!!"

As soon as I've replied, I see the three dots pop up on the screen that let me know she's typing her reply.

"Sorry about the play," Gina writes. "Want to hang out?"