Requests: Analogince where they’re human and also single dads? And they all meet because their kids fought and got called to the principals office
Virgil's POV
Upsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you got to raise a beautiful, special boy with a sharp mind. You got to teach him all the coping mechanisms you'd painstakingly learned over the years to cope with his condition and watch as he lit up over the things that brought him joy. You got to watch as he zipped from topic to topic, brighter than the sun, mind racing at a million miles an hour. You got to be the first person to hear about his beautifully creative ideas. You got to have a reason for living, all yours and wonderful, that you didn't have to share with anyone else.
Downsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you had no one else to pass the buck to when he got in trouble at school.
"It'll be fine," I chanted to myself for the billionth time as I turned off the ignition and unbuckled myself, gripping the steering wheel and forcing deep, measured breaths. "It'll be fine. He probably won't get expelled for this. This is his first fight and you don't even know why he got into a fight. You didn't raise a bully, so he was probably defending himself or another kid." Terror clasped me around the throat and squeezed. "But what if you did raise a bully and you didn't realize it, and now you've sentenced your son to a life of crime trying to make up for the hole in his heart where his father should have loved him oh God I broke my son!"
Immediately, my therapist's voice spoke up in my mind. You're catastrophizing again, he said in that obnoxiously aware, gentle way of his. Calm down. Take it one step at a time.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, focusing on the feeling of my stomach and then my chest expanding with air. I let it out through pursed lips, a quiet whistle in the exhale.
I'd played through scenarios like this a million times in my mind. The second Cassie told me, five months pregnant with tears streaming down her cheeks, that she didn't want the baby, I'd prepared myself for any possibility. I'd created contingency plans and contingency plans for my contingency plans, because I knew how much harsher the world would be on him. With a grandparent, his biological mother, and me all with ADHD, there hadn't been any doubt Drew would get it, too, and I'd prepared for that. I'd prepared for the possibility that poor grades and emotional dysregulation would put him on the back foot and even get him expelled. I'd taught him all the coping mechanisms I could. I'd tried to show him as much love and patience as I could muster, and I'd show him the same now. We'd get through this. We would make it through this.
I nodded, resolute, even as doubt and worry niggled at the back of my mind. I'd raised Drew alone, without any support from my parents or Cassie, working a call center job that barely paid enough to live off of. I'd demanded a child psychiatrist the second Drew started displaying symptoms and beat the system for the help he deserved. I'd beat the system for the help I deserved. I was a badass. I was a badass.
I got out of the car.
The two people at the front desk--a woman with strawberry blonde hair and a baby-faced guy--looked over, presumably torn from their conversation, when I walked through the door. The woman swiveled her chair to face me with a friendly smile. "Hello there," she said. "How may I help you?"
I forced myself to look her in the eyes and strained through a smile. If you act like a weirdo, it'll just make things worse for Drew. "Hey," I said. "I'm, uh...Drew Griffith's father. You called me and--"
"Oh!" She gestured to the side, at a door that read: PRINCIPAL MOROZOV. "He's in there."
I looked over and gulped, staring in fear at the door. "Say, uh..." I smiled at the woman as politely as I could. "You wouldn't happen to know the correct social etiquette for talking to the principal after your son gets into a fight at school, would you?"
She gave me a funny look. "Huh?"
"Never mind." I hung my head in defeat and commenced the walk of dread to the front door of the office. The wall facing me was all glass, which meant I could see inside. Two adults, one natural-haired in a polo shirt with his arm around one of the kids in the chair beside him and the other behind a desk, looking stern. I couldn't see the other two kids or any other adults.
And then Principal Morozov spotted me through the glass and shit, I was out of time.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. "Sorry it took me so long," I said, hoping that was the right thing to say. "It was hard getting off work."
"It's all right," Principal Morozov said. "We haven't even reached Mr. Accardo yet."
"Hey, Dad," came the halfhearted voice of Drew, hidden behind a chair too big for him, especially when he slumped in it like that.
I peered over the top and smiled at him softly. "What the heck, kid?" I asked.
"He called Patton a freak." Drew pointed at the kid in the middle, with a busted nose and--oh God.
He had scattered burn marks across the right side of his face, with two differently-colored eyes and a scowl.
"So of course you had to beat me up," the kid sneers. "Because that's a perfectly rational, healthy thing to do."
The third kid--Patton, I presumed--bounced in his seat, humming in distress. His father, a man wearing glasses and a polo shirt with a tie, rubbed his back.
"I don't see why my son has to be here," the other father said, looking at Principal Morozov. "He didn't do anything."
“Patton sits alone at lunch time and doesn’t have any friends,” the principal said. “We think if he tried to get along with his peers better, he’d have a happier time here.”
“Or, you know, you could make an effort to teach your students not to bully kids who are different from them,” I grumbled.
“What was that, Mr. Griffiths?”
I hesitated, glancing up at Principal Morozov, then back at Drew. On one hand, I wanted to lead by example: teach Drew that it was okay to stand up to authority for what he believed. On the other, sometimes, you had to pay lip-service to authority just to stay out of trouble. It was a lesson no child had the mental capacities to understand, but I supposed I’d have to do my best to teach him, because if I gave Principal Morozov cheek, he might expel Drew.
“Nothing, sir,” I said, feeling like a child cowering beneath the glare of my teachers again. I prepared to search for the bullshit in the story I was about to get fed and asked, “What happens now?”
"I'd prefer to wait for Mr. Accardo," the principal said.
"Roman teaches at a high school," the bully grumbled, slouched over with a glare fixated on the desk. "He's probably in the middle of class."
"Then you're going to have to stay after school to address this," Principal Morozov told him sternly.
"Whatever."
I had a very bad feeling about that kid. The scars on his face told a frightening story. He could just as easily be bullied for those as Drew got bullied for his ADHD and Patton for being a loner, which probably meant he turned that abuse outward and attacked others for their perceived differences in a never-ending cycle of abuse.
What? I could be bad at people and have a special interest in human psychology. Those two things were not mutually exclusive.
Suddenly, the door banged open. I jumped out of my skin, clamping a hand over my chest and struggling to breathe levelly, eyes crushed shut and body frozen. Then I heard the babbling.
"I'm sorry!" The principal's door opened. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. The kids were in the middle of rehearsal and--Janus, what happened? I'm so sorry, Mr. Morozov." A frazzled man with warm skin rushed inside and sat down next to the bully--Janus--hastily hugging him and turning his attention to the principal.
I frowned at the scene. I withheld judgment and looked at Principal Morozov as he said, "All right. Now that you're all here, there are going to be some serious consequences to what happened today."
********
"I can't believe you let him give me detention!" Drew whined. "Janus deserved to get punched!"
"And you deserve to die abandoned and unloved in a ditch, steeping in your own feces," Janus snapped.
"Janus," his father, Roman, said firmly, kneeling down and taking him by the shoulders. Janus tried to turn away from him, but Roman lightly shook him and made him meet his eyes. He softened. "I know how much you're hurting, but a hero never redirects his pain onto others. There are other ways."
"What if I don't want to be a hero?" Janus snapped. "What if I want to be the bad guy?"
"I don't believe that," Roman said gently, adjusting his bangs. "I don't think you do, either."
Janus turned from him sharply, crossing his arms and glaring at the asphalt. He sniffled.
Drew glanced up at me in confusion and I rubbed his back. "Sometimes," I said gently, "when people are hurting, they deal with that by hurting other people."
"That's stupid," Drew said with the blunt confidence of a ten-year-old.
"Maybe a little," I agreed, "but humans aren't always logical." Drew wrinkled his nose. "I know. It's so annoying, but it's true. You're not always logical, either. Remember when you burst out crying because your pencil broke?"
"Dad!" Drew turned bright red.
Roman chuckled. "So." He stood up and crossed his arms. "You're the little rascal who dared challenge Janus to a duel for--Patton, right?" He looked at Mr. Davis--or Logan, as he'd introduced himself--who nodded. "You're the rascal who challenged Janus to a duel for Patton's honor," Roman finished.
"He was being an asshole," Drew protested.
"I'd say it's not my fault he uses that language," I said through a wince, "but it's definitely my fault he uses that language."
"I'm the same way with Janus, don't worry." Roman chuckled--a low, rumbly sound. He turned back to Drew. "You're got a paladin's heart and a temper. I was a lot like you when I was a kid."
Drew snorted. "You think you're cute, don't you?"
"He's always like this," Janus said, shoving in front of Roman. "He thinks it's so inspiring to talk about heroes all the time, like fairy tales are the best thing ever."
"That's gotta be annoying," Drew said, wrinkling his nose.
"It is." Janus stopped and scowled. "Don't relate to me!"
"Ew! You're a jerk! Get away from me!"
I exchanged a fond, exasperated look with Roman, who chuckled and squeezed Janus' shoulder. "Hey," he said, "maybe, if you apologized, you could have a friend."
"I don't want to apologize."
"So you'd rather another kid think you're a horrible person!"
Janus hesitated a moment before straightened his back. "Yes."
"I don't believe that."
I glanced over at Logan and saw that he was busy talking to Patton, kneeling on the ground and smoothing his hands over his shoulders in measured strokes. It seemed to soothe Patton. I looked at Drew.
"You know how it sometimes hurts you when you think about your Aunt Cassie?" I said softly, pulling him into my side as the shadow washed over his face.
"He called Patton a freak, Dad," Drew argued. "He's not even really my friend, but he's not a freak. He's just...different. Like me."
"I know, kiddo," I said, squeezing him against my side. "You don't have to give him a chance. He hasn't asked forgiveness, and you wouldn't owe him one even if you did. I just know you don't like to see people struggling alone."
Drew hesitated.
I looked over at Logan. "How's Patton?"
Logan glanced back at me, then looked at Patton. "Do you want to answer?"
Patton hesitated.
"It's okay," I said, not looking at his face. Patton hadn't made eye contact with a single person, including his father, since I'd met him. He clearly had more trouble with it than I did, and I wasn't always a huge fan. "I'm autistic, too."
Patton immediately perked up. "Really?"
"Yeah." I smiled, looking over the top of his head. I looked at Drew. "Can I tell him about you?"
"I'm ADHD," Drew told him, turning to him. "I got diagnosed last year."
"Oh cool!" Patton flapped his hands at his sides and bounced eagerly. "I don't, I don't think, because I'm actually pretty good at focusing most of the time and I have a really good memory, but Dad says autism and ADHD are really close together. It's really nice to meet someone else! I don't have many friends."
"Well, I guess you have me," Drew said. "I didn't get in trouble defending you for nothing."
Patton squealed and continued stimming enthusiastically. Drew offered a hug, which Patton considered for a long moment before accepting.
Logan smiled softly at the exchange and looked over to me. "You've raised a very kind son."
"More than half of it is all him," I said. "I do the best I can, but...I'm just one person. He's probably gonna hate me once he's a teenager."
"Nuh-uh!" Drew objected, charging over to embrace me around the middle. I smiled and hugged him close, squeezing him as tight as was safe. He grunted.
I caught Janus staring at us. I couldn't read his expression. He was glaring, but I had a feeling it wasn't anger. But clearly, Roman did understand it, because he knelt down and hugged him close, even when he tried to push him away. He just held fast. I thought for sure Janus would react badly--he hadn't wanted to be held, what was wrong with Roman?--but then he slowly relaxed and leaned against him. I still couldn't read him very well, but that...didn't look particularly resigned.
"You know," Roman said, pulling back after a long while, "I bet Drew and Patton would be willing to forgive you if you really, really earnestly apologized."
Janus shoved away from him, crossing his arms and glaring at the ground. "I don't want to apologize."
Roman sighed heavily, and Drew whirled on him. "You're such a freaking jerk!" he screamed. "What's wrong with you? Why do you have to be a jerk to everyone? I tried to be your friend and you just spit on me!"
"I don't want your pity!"
"It wasn't pity!"
"It's always pity!" Janus screeched. "You think I don't know what these scars make me? You think I don't know I'm a freak? If the fire didn't teach me that, then my parents sure did! I'm nothing! The only reason anyone would be nice to me is pity and I don't want anyone's pity! I just want to be left alone!"
Janus turned and ran. Roman chased after him frantically, never sparing Logan or I a glance.
Drew and Patton stood stunned. Drew looked at Patton, who stared at his forehead. "Well..." he said. "What the heck am I supposed to do now?"
Patton ran in the direction of Janus.
At that point, about the only thing for Drew and I to do was chase after his new friend, hot on the heels of his father.
We found Patton with his backpack unzipped, standing beside Janus' car door, already buckled in with Roman partway into the driver's seat, holding out a picture of a flower.
"It's ivy," Patton said. "It means friendship."
Janus stared at him through the window, unmoving. Patton, to my shock, held his gaze for one, two moments and then averted his eyes. Logan hurried over to hold him, clearly expecting Janus to reject him again.
Janus opened the car door. "Why would you want to be my friend?"
"He didn't say he wanted to be your friend," Drew sneered. "He just said it meant friendship, dummy."
"Drew," I chided softly, and he recoiled into my side.
"Because it's nice to know I'm not the only one who can't make any friends," Patton said. "I like having other friends who are special."
"I'm not special," Janus snapped.
"Dad says that being different is always special, because different people have discovered some of the coolest, prettiest things ever."
"It's true," Logan said. "Albert Einstein, Hans Christian Anderson, and Michelangelo. were all autistic."
"See?" Patton bounced and beamed at Janus. "So maybe we can all be different and special together and do really cool things one day! Like the three Musketeers."
Janus considered strongly. "I'm Athos."
"You can be whoever you want to be!" Patton said earnestly. "Then we can all have lots of musketcheer."
Drew, Roman and I choked on a laugh. Logan shook his head fondly. "He watches one sitcom that likes puns and he suddenly won't stop," he said.
Even Janus cracked a small smile. He accepted the paper. "Fine," he said. "We can have musketcheer."
Drew pouted. "Does this mean I'm your friend now?"
"Yes," Patton said firmly, looking at him.
Drew jumped, looking fearfully at Patton, who somehow managed to look intimidating while also avoiding eye contact. He looked up at me. "What have I done?" he asked.
"Made friends." I rubbed his back. I looked around. "We should probably get all these guys home. They've had a long day, and school will be letting out soon."
"I guess now that all our kids are friends, I'll be seeing more of you," Roman said to both Logan and me.
Logan hummed. "I presume so. Patton does not own a phone of his own. I can give you my number if your children wish to contact him?"
"I hate to say it, but you should probably get him his own phone," I said. "It's dangerous not to have one. If I ever lost sight of Drew...I'd rather he have a phone."
Logan considered this. "I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, for the moment, you'll have to go through me to reach Patton."
"Don't have to ask me twice. Here." Roman accepted Logan's phone and typed in Janus' number, then passing it to Drew, who stared at it for a moment.
I recited his number to him and he punched it in. "Don't worry, kid," I said. "One day, you're going to have to tell so many doctors your number that it's going to be emblazoned on your brain."
After all numbers had been exchanged, I shook Logan's and Roman's hands goodbye and let Patton and Drew embrace again. Janus stayed stubbornly in his seat, refusing any sort of affection, which kind of concerned me, but then Roman whispered, "This is the most receptive he's been since I started fostering him."
I nodded and smiled, leading Drew back toward the car. He looked at me. "I guess I have friends now."
I glanced back toward Roman's car as it drove away and caught Logan's eye as he loaded into his own. He smiled at me.
"Yeah," I said. "I think I might have, too."
