Where There's Light | ✔

05. The Baby Has Spoken

The last period of the day was woodshop with Mr. Barton, a short man dressed in jeans with a plaid shirt tucked into them. His light brown hair stuck up on one side due to the wind blowing as he held the door opened and let us through.

"Choose your seat carefully," he told us with a slight southern accent. "Because it's where you'll be for the rest of the year."

There were three rows of two tables made to seat two students each with stools tucked beneath them. The floor was covered in sawdust, the wall lined with tables and shelves and racks of various saws, hammers, drills and other tools. There was even a large table saw in the very back.

The seats were quickly filling up so I hurried and grabbed one in the back on the far side of the room by the table saw. I set my backpack on the floor then ducked down to grab a notebook and pen. Most of the teachers that day required us to write some sort of notes about classroom rules, so I wanted to be prepared.

When I sat back up straight, the once empty seat in front of me was occupied by a familiar head of blonde hair and all black clothes. Great.

The stool beside was also taken by curvy black girl a cloud of black hair crowding her shoulders and professional level make up. I was jealous.

Mr. Barton closed the door once everyone was seated and strolled up to the podium at the front of the class. The chatter from among the students ceased as everyone straightened up to focus on him. There was a thick silence in the room as the teacher made eye contact with each of us.

"Saws are not toys," he said, voice void of any amusement. He paused dramatically before continuing, "In this class safety will be our top priority. There will be no goofing around. No imitating your favorite slasher movies. If you put yourself or anyone else in this room in any kind of danger, you're gone."

After another intense look at the twelve of us, he smiled. "Now that we got the scary part out of the way, working with wood is fun."

That sounded wrong.

A scrawny kid in the front middle row raised his hand. Mr. Barton looked over at him, examining him before asking, "Is your question about morning wood?"

The class snickered as the boy put his hand down.

"You kids need to get more creative." He shook his head as he dropped a stack of papers on the desk of a girl in the front row on the other end of the class. "Take one and pass it down."

As the papers were being passed out, Mr. Barton went over the curriculum. All projects would be group projects and we'd have a new project every month. I perked up at the mention of painting. Apparently, we had the choice to decorate anything we created however we wanted. Hopefully whoever was in my group didn't mind me taking creative control.

I'm used to watercolor paintings on canvas, but painting on wood sounded fun. Now that I thought about, I hadn't painted all summer. Not since he left.

When Nolan turned to hand me the papers he froze, his grasp tightening when I tried to take them. A little tug pulled him out whatever state he was in. He released the papers and turned back around.

My desk mate eyed the both of questioningly as I handed her the stack. I gave a tight lipped smile before look down at the list of rules in front of me.

* * *

Taylor and I were playing peek-a-boo with her Minnie Mouse blanket as Bee filled me in on her day. Taylor let out one her cute little giggles as I pulled the blanket of her face, sticking my tongue out at her.

"So, are you going?" I asked, looking up at her from the floor.

She fell back, resting her head on the arm of the couch and squeezing a throw pillow to her chest like a lovesick  girl in a rom-com. "I don't know. Should I? She's cool and all, but I don't know if I like her."

"Bee, it's a party, not a marriage ceremony," I pointed out.

Taylor got bored of me and started playing with one of her books with the buttons that made animal noises, so I relocated to the couch next to Bee.

"Exactly," she exclaimed, throwing her arms up. "There's gonna be a lot if people there. What if I get...distracted?"

A lot of things came to easy to Bianca Sackler, commitment was not one of them.

"Then go to the party alone."

"But what if I see her there?" She groaned. "Do I say 'Hey, sorry, but I might want to suck face with someone else tonight.'"

"Sounds good," I teased.

"You're no help."

"If you keep holding out for something better to come along everything's just going to pass you by," I said, tucking my legs under me as I angled my body towards her.

She scoffed at the ceiling. "Excuse me, but aren't you the same girl who dumped a guy because he told you he loved you?"

"Yes, because I didn't love him back," I explained. "You're not even giving yourself a chance to know if you really like someone because you're too busy checking everyone else out."

She pulled the pillow over her face. "Stop bullying me."

Taylor gripped the side of the couch, pulling herself up to sit in my lap. Bee sat up, pulling Taylor over to her. "Maybe you can help me," she said as Taylor tried to pull at Bee's nose ring. "Should I go to the party with Gia?"

"No," she cooed, still trying to grab at Bee's nose.

"Okay, the baby has spoken."

I laughed, shaking my head. "She says no to everything."

"Really?" Bee's brow quirked up. "Hey, Tay, should Jade stay home this weekend?"

Another no came from my baby sister.

I shook my head again. "I'm not letting a one year old decide my weekend plans."

"Come on, Jade. You haven't gone out with me since—" she caught herself, clamping her mouth shut, her eyes as big as saucers. "Sorry."

I stared down at my hands. "It's fine."

My dad left in June, just a few days before Father's Day. He had been on a business trip for about month before he came home and basically told us he was moving to Ohio with his secretary. I'd never been so mad in my life. I had never hated anyone so much.

Mom remained strong, stoic, as she watched him pack some clothes before climbing into his sports car and leaving. I thought she was just waiting for him to go before she showed any emotions. But she went on as if it hadn't happened.

She made dinner, bathed Taylor, asked me about the college tours I'd been taking with Bee. There was no mention of Dad. Not then or now. We just swept the whole thing under a rug and tried to live like he didn't leave us with nothing.

It wasn't that easy for me, though. I just couldn't accept that he left us like she had. What he did, it didn't make sense to me. Instead of pretending it never happened I kind of shut down. Distanced myself for most things. Parties, art...boyfriends.

It's gotten easier over the weeks thanks to Bee not allowing me to sulk. Still wasn't at a hundred percent.

Bee touched my forearm, pulling me out of my thoughts. "If you really don't want to go, that's fine," she said in a comforting tone. "But I think you should go to the party. And maybe, sorta tell everyone Deshaun is a lying sack a shit."

Her eyes darted down to Taylor who was playing with the TV remote. "You, don't repeat that."

I huffed out a laugh, shrugging. "Maybe. I dunno."

Bee grinned. "I'll take that as a yes."

//

Whats a wattpad story with a party????