Page 25 of Losing Faith

He nods before his eyes meet mine again. “You’re close friends with the Hale brothers, right? Like more than just their agent.”

“Yes?”

He nods in thought. “Can you get them to come watch me play?”

I study him but he seems very hopeful about this. “What is them seeing you play going to change? They don’t recruit for the Dodgers, they only play for them.”

“Right.” He nods. “They’re the best on the team and got recruited from this school.” He nods to his campus. “Maybe they can give me tips on what I’m clearly missing.”

I don’t tell him it’s discipline and brain cells and instead say, “I’ll talk to them. In the meantime, lay low. I’ll draft a statement for you to post on social media about what happened today. Don’t talk about it with anyone.”

He nods hopefully before thanking me and stepping out of my car.

I pull into Belle’s schooljust as they’re walking out, which means I’m early and it makes me feel good. It’s like the nicest fuck you to stick in the mud Ms. Rose.

As I’m walking over to the class, Isabelle is talking to a friend and doesn’t notice me.

Just as I reach her, Ms. Rose steps beside us. “Mr. Carter.” She gives my outfit a once over before her annoyed face meets mine again. “In Isabelle’s folder you’ll find a red card.” It nearly sounds like she’shappyabout the news.

I glance down at Isabelle who has guilty written all over her face. Holding back a sigh, I look back over at her teacher. “What happened?”

“She was using inappropriate language today.” A smug smile grows on her face and I’m sure it’s because this is feeding her delusions that I’m a horrible father. “The first time this happened, last week, I gave her a warning, but since this was the second time, her red card needs to be signed and brought back to me. On the back you need to fill out the action plan for how we’re going to reduce the foul language.”

She gives me another once over. “Maybe reducing such language at home will help.”

I bite my tongue before finding the right words. “We don’t use inappropriate language at home.” That’s partly a lie but it’s not like she’d know. “I’ll talk to her.”

“That’d be great.” She holds her clipboard to her chest. “If it continues, maybe Mom can come in for a meeting?”

I force a smile. “It won’t continue.” I don’t remind her that Belle’s mom isn’t in the picture,once again,but I can see her nosy expression from a mile away as to why. That’s an explanation she doesn’t need, and since she’s so desperate to know, I make it my mission to not enlighten her on the details of my life.

“Have a great day, Ms. Rose.” Taking Isabelle’s hand I keep my gaze on her. “Do you have all your things?”

She nods quietly, and without sparing her teacher a second glance, I walk over to the car with her and strap her into the car seat.

When I’m in the driver’s seat, I let out a defeated breath before turning to her.

“I’m sorry.” She beats me to it, her eyes watering.

“Baby girl,” I start gently. “Ireallyneed you to be mindful of how you speak in school.” I focus on her, and while I can’t explain to her that I’m already on thin ice with these people, she seems to understand the sincerity in my voice.

“I just dropped my lunch and saidoh shit,but I apologized right after.” She wipes her tears. “Are you disappointed?” she nearly whispers.

Taking a hold of her hand, I kiss it gently. “I know it was an accident, and I’m not disappointed,” I reassure her because I care more about the fact that her teacher heard and is going to give me hell for it. “Let’s just remember next time to not speak that way in school or at all.”

She nods before kissing my hand in return.

“Is Ms. Rose ever mean to you?” I watch her carefully, but she quickly shakes her head, her brows pulled together.

“No, she’s always so nice.” She shrugs. “She was even nice when she gave me a warning about no cursing.”

I focus on her for a beat before deciding to believe her. I’m starting the car when she quickly changes the topic and tells me about her Good Writer sticker.

“I can’t wait to show Lissy. She says I can have ice cream when I get stickers.”

I smile at how much happier she sounds and I can tell it’s for Lisette and not just the ice cream or the sticker she received at school.

At the reminder of Lisette, I stop by the store to get her my ‘please keep tutoring my kid’flowers because I forgot them the last few times I dropped off Isabelle.

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