Page 22 of Whiskey Sour
Skylar
“Why is your hair blue?”
Chuckling, I run a hand through myturquoisehair, and smile. I raise an eyebrow at the kid, a smirk on my lips. “Why is your hair brown?”
Gregory looks at me, a scowl pulled deep on his face. “Fine. I guess.”
I’m not saying I’m great with kids—I don’t know if I say or do the right thing around them—but according to Sadie, Gregory hasn’t been going to school recently. Because truancy is a big deal in Miami, she was hoping that maybe I could talk some sense into him. As the director of the shelter, I trust her judgment. Why me? I have no idea. I sucked at school, nearly failing every class andbarelygraduating. Still, I accept the challenge, even if the kid looks like he’s ready to pop in his headphones and ignore me.
“Why haven’t you been going to school?” I cut to the chase. “Is it because of a bully?”
He snorts, eyeing me like I’m an idiot. “DoIlook like someone who could be bullied?”
Well, when he puts it like that, no. Gregory is big for sixteen, tall and daunting, and he has more facial hair than I do. Mostly, Idon’t think anyone would fuck with him, because his expression makes it clear you wouldn’t come out the victor.
“Comeonnnnn,” I whine. “Tell me. It’s not like I’m going to tell anybody.”
“That lady asked you to talk to me?” He juts his chin at Sadie, who’s standing by the craft area with some younger kids. I nod, and he scoffs as he looks down at his phone. “Tell her to mind her own damn business.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. Okay, not too sure how I’m supposed to get across to him, but I’m not giving up. “Did I tell you yet that I like your tattoos? They’re really cool. Although you're sixteen, so I’m not too sure how you got them in the first place. Did they hurt? How did you decide? What if you regret it?—”
“Can you shut up?” His gaze snaps to mine. “I don’t want to fucking talk to you.”
I narrow my eyes. “Tell me why you’re not going to school and I’ll stop.”
He thinks about it for a beat, then sighs. “Fucking fine. I just don’t get it, okay? I’m a goddamn idiot. Everyone seems to get all the stuff they’re trying to teach us, but I don’t. Then I get mad, and when I get mad, I get punchy.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “So, you don’t get the work?”
“Didn’t I just fucking say that?”
I don’t take his tone to heart, because even though he’s a bit scary and likes getting “punchy,” he’s just a kid. A kid who needs help. I think about what to do, then end up pointing to Cassius across the room. “You see that guy there?”
Gregory raises an eyebrow, glancing over at Cassius apathetically. “He your guy?”
“My best friend,” I clarify. “He had trouble in school too, and nobody knew why his grades were so bad, even though he tried really hard.”
“So?”
“Sooooo, we found out later that he has dyslexia.”
Gregory’s interest is piqued. He keeps looking at his phone and tries to pretend like he’s not giving me his full attention. “What’s that?”
“It just means he has trouble reading because the words and how they sound don’t match up sometimes in his brain. It doesn’t mean hecan’tread; it’s just harder for him sometimes.” I scooch a bit closer. “Does that sound familiar?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. I read just fine. I just get really overwhelmed. Like there’s too much stuff going on in my brain.”
“And then you get mad and start fights?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, looking a touch remorseful. “Don’t mean to be an ass. It’s just…”
He doesn’t have to explain himself to me. Having volunteered at the shelter for years, I’ve learned a lot about different learning and emotional disorders. Some kids have a thing against authority, so they end up getting kicked out of school. Other kids have emotional-behavioral disorders, and a lot of schools don’t want to deal with it. It doesn’t make these kids evil or bad, it just means they need help.
“You know, they have programs here that could help you,” I say carefully, trying to weigh my words. “They have group therapy too?—”
“I don’t need therapy!”
“Okay, okay.” I raise my hands to placate him when his scream draws everyone’s attention our way. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that, if you want to graduate, you have to go back to school.”
