Page 6 of Losing Faith

She nods in understanding before leaning back in her seat. “I’m aware, however, we have high expectations for all of our students and she’s currently not meeting them. I just don’t see her catching up in three months. I told you this would be a concern when she tested to get into our school considering her score was borderline passing. I’m aware five-year-olds aren’t readingnovels,but if you look over the assessment, you’ll find she struggles with separating facts and opinions. She has a hard time conveying the meaning of passages that are read to her. She shows little interest or throws in the towel completely when she’s having a hard time in class—”

“And her math score was in the ninety-nine percentile,” I remind them. “I doubt you’d show interest in things you struggle with, it’s our job to help her.”

She looks offended, but I continue to defend my kid.

“She’s also bilingual as your requirements state. Her speech is amazing for her age and her tuition for theyearwas paid in full long before her first day. A comprehension test and failing to separate facts from opinions are going to get her kicked out?” I glance down at the assessment. “Giraffes have pretty fur?” I read one of the questions she got wrong where she should have answered giraffes have long necks. “Can we not agree why a five-year-old would think that’s also a fact?” Sure, she struggles with some things, but not enough to be kicked out.

“No, considering she was the only one in the class to get that wrong,” Rose cuts in. “With all due respect, an unstable household can be a direct result of her low performance in school.”

I lean back in my seat and I’m sure my face shows just how much her words offend me, but she has the nerve to continue.

“Why is it that Mom can’t meet with us?” She priesagainlike a starving lion.

“I’m sorry, do you all not accept students with single dads?” I look between the both of them and now it’s their turn to look offended, but the second they found out Isabelle’s mom wasn’t in the picture, it’s like I can’t make a single mistake without being labeled a bad dad. As if my kid is suffering because she doesn’t have a present mom and her struggling in school is a result of that, which isn’t true.

“Of course we do.” Carmen laughs nervously. “We’re going to keep working with her, but I highly advise a personal tutor for after school. We have great ones here.”

“I’ll look into it.” I stand from my seat, but she adds more.

“The next exam is in December and if she doesn’t pass, I suggest transferring her for the spring semester. You wouldn’t want an F or summer school on her record.”

“With all due respect, Dean Carmen, I’m not transferring her in the middle of the year, especially since mid-year transfers are nearly impossible in private schools.”

Rose raises her brows again in disapproval as she collects Isabelle’s folder. “I’m sure a public school transfer would be a piece of cake.” She holds out the folder to me. “Our expectations are not just for our students.”

I bite my tongue so hard, I can taste the copper in my mouth. I could buy the property we’re standing on three times over, but because of the narrative they made up in their mind for the reason Isabelle’s mom isn’t in the picture, I don’t deserve to be here.

“Have a good day,” I bite out before taking the folder from her and walking out. As I pass by the group of kids, I find Isabelle adding a Lego to the top of the building they’re making that is nearly her height.

“Let’s go, princess.” I keep my tone light, refusing to let my annoyance affect the way I speak to her.

We’re walking to the car when she glances up at me. “Did Ms. Rose tell you about my reading test?” She looks down at her feet. “It was so hard, but she said I did good. I don’t think I did.” Her head hangs low, and I lift her into my arms as we cross the street.

“You did your best and that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you, penguin.” I kiss her nose before opening the back seat. “We’ll keep practicing.” I put her in her car seat and she nods in return as I put her seat belt on.

As soon as I slip into the driver’s seat, she asks for my phone to play music.

“Let me text Abuela, you’re going to go to her house and I’ll meet you there later.” I text my mom and Isabelle speaks up from her seat.

“Do you have to run errands?”

“Just one.”

“Hello Isabelle’s dumb ass uncle,”I voice as he opens the door.

Sire looks confused at first before a smile tugs on his lips, and I know he finds it funny when people are mad, but I might punch him in the damn face.

We met in college, and when he and his brother were signed with the Dodgers, they also signed me to be their agent. When my daughter was born, Sire was always around us and she started calling himUncle Sigh. Since we are as close as we are and I don’t have any family in the States besides my parents, he’s on my kid’s blue card, but that’s changing today.

“What’s up your ass?” he teases.

“Read this.” I shove the paper I received from Isabelle’s school.

“Don’t shove shit at me.” He tries to shove it back at me, but I push the paper into his chest again.

“Read about how my kid most likely won’t be promoted to first grade thanks to your dumb ass always pulling her out of school early.”

“What?” He glances between me and the paper.

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