The Lost and Found

The Dog Died

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: Finn Parker

After that little stunt done by that obnoxious potato back at my front porch, I spent that entire Wednesday night assembling my revenge for tomorrow. It wasn't exactly kick-out-of-school worthy but I couldn't exactly tell you that he's gonna get out of it without at least a bruise or something.

When I woke up the next morning, I was extremely tired and sleep-deprived but I guess it was worth it. Wait - no not really.

Should I skip? No. This is too good to miss.

Tomorrow is the day I'd buy my soccer cleats and other supplies I'd need for soccer try-outs on Tuesday. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I was beyond any stage of anxiousness.

Usually it this type of stuff I'd force myself to stay collected and within minutes, I'd be all calm and cool with all my crazed feelings kept down. But I guess was now an exception. The beginning for something new. And I didn't like it.

I did the Math - well, no, I actually used a calculator - and figured that I'd need at least a hundred and fifty bucks for all my supplies and stuff like that. Soccer cleats and shin pads were essentials and who knows how much they'd cost plus maybe I could fit in a new sports bag and some real soccer socks since I only had short ones with holes on them.

Right in my money bank I've got around seventy dollars saved up; from babysitting and some random twenty dollar bill I found underneath the heap of clothing right beside my night stand. But I'm not sure if it was mine since my Mom likes to hide money if I ask her for food money but who cares? It's in my room and it's my territory and everything in it is mine.

Three days since my Mom's out for her week-long baby duty and I blew up ninety percent of the food money. I had a hundred bucks for the week (or possibly two, holy shit) and it's only Wednesday so that mean I had ten bucks for dinner for the next four nights.

But I counted that out. Surely, I'd find something I'd be able to cook for the next few days without blowing up the entire house.

So I had eighty. I thought of calling my Mom and asking her - no, begging her - for pooling in cash for my supplies.

"Finn? What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be eating? It's nine-eighteen. You should be eating. And who is going to pick you up? Is the house burning? God, I told you a thousand times, Finn. Always remember to-"

"Mom. Stop talking." I demanded. "And the house is all fine. So please, I'm trying to say something here."

She sighed in equal parts of relief and annoyance. "Okay. But I don't appreciate your attitude and stop cutting me-"

"Mom, I need you to lend seventy bucks." I said. "Please. It's a real emergency."

She was silent for a few seconds. Then she replied, "No, Finn."

"Mom! It's an emergency! And no; I am not planning to buy car batteries for another destined failed attempt of making web-shooters. Seriously, Mom, we were done with that."

"Finn, seventy bucks? I don't know since I know you and your little messed up head."

I groaned. "Mom. Please. I'll pay you back. I'm getting a job. I need the money for tomorrow."

"What are you doing with it?" she sounded suspicious. "Don't even think of lying to me."

I sighed. Is it a good idea to tell her? I have no choice.

I took a deep breath. "I'm joining soccer, Mom."

There she went with the moment of silence. But I understood why.