What Now? (p1)
where andrew and neil are single dads and their kids hate each other.
Neil hated the administrators. They sat at the front desk and looked up at him with enormous eyes, eyelashes fluttering as they asked: “What’cha lookin’ for, hon?” She smiled, almost beseechingly, as she stood. “Tour? I can show you around.”
“Actually,” He cleared his throat, pulling his sleeves down. “I’m here for Robin.”
The woman’s face turned sour, though she did her best to remain neutral “Right. You said you would be here a half hour ago, Mr Josten. The others have been waiting. Take a seat, I’ll let Headmaster Boyd know.”
I’m sorry, Neil wanted to snap. That some stupid kid has managed to aggravate Robin and that I’m a full-time working single father. Jesus Christ, people were shallow.
He dropped into a plastic chair, straightening his shirt again. His hair was still a little damp after his 30-second shower: Convincing his coach to leave practise early was never easy, but he was one of the few teammates with a kid. And the only one of that small group who parented alone. He probably had a few more concessions than the rest, but he couldn’t afford to spend them on shit like this.
Opposite him was a broad-shouldered man, staring at him. Unimpressed. Did he recognise Neil? He hoped not. He wasn’t in the mood for a facade. The staring continued. Neil elected to ignore him in favour of looking at the ceiling.
When Robin was shuffled out by her classroom teacher, Danielle Wilds, she gave Neil a sheepish look. He stood up and offered his hand, which she let rest on her head. Touch was still incredibly unfamiliar to both of them. “What’s this all about, Robin?”
She pointed to the bruise on her jaw. “I pushed him after he called me bad things. Then he punched me back!”
Neil glowered. It didn’t explain why his adoptive daughter was getting in trouble. She could sense that he knew she was omitting details of the story, and hid behind his hip as they followed Danielle Wilds down the hall.
Behind them, the blond man stood. He was shorter than Neil - a feat in itself, really - but it was as though Neil could feel needles stabbing into the back of his skull. He took Robin by the hand as he lead her into the headmaster’s office, and immediately observed his surroundings: The enormous glass window looking out over the school’s courtyard, where kids were dressed for phys-ed and playing with skipping ropes, the mahogany desk, the shelves of books, the trophies and certificates of achievement on the walls. Boyd had a picture of a young girl with wild, curly hair by his computer. The man in question was sitting relaxedly in his chair, tattoos visible through the white button-down, his cuffs loose and rolled to mid-forearm. His hair was spiked with gel, and
There was a young boy, sitting opposite him. He had black hair and green eyes, looking nothing like the blond man who sat next to him. The son was probably getting close to his father’s height. Both of them wore distasteful sneers. Like father like son, Neil supposed.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Neil asked, when there had been too many moments of frigid silence. “Robin? Anyone? I’d like to know exactly why I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Josten --”
“Neil.”
“Neil.” Boyd cleared his throat. “Robin and Kevin have been having some serious disagreements over the past few weeks. Neither seem willing to compromise, or come to an impasse. We usually like to guide students to conflict resolution, but this is getting out of hand. Isn’t it, Kevin?” He looked at the boy. “Robin?” Neil’s daughter withered under his look of disappointment.
They both pointed at each other. “They started it!”
“Kevin always tells me that I’m dumb and get all the answers wrong.” Robin wailed. “And he hides my pencils!”
“Robin scribbled in my maths scrapbook.” Kevin huffed. “Then she hid my completed spelling homework --”
“Wasn’t me!”
“And then she put grapes in the bottom of my bag, and they’re all squishy!”
“Are you sure that your own grapes didn’t spill, Kevin?” His father implored.
“You’re very good at losing pencils, Robin.” Neil shook his head. “Maybe you’ve lost them?”
“No!” Both of them cried.
Momentarily, Neil looked to the other father, and recognised the look of pure frustration furrowing the man’s brows.
Boyd rested his elbows on his desk, clasping his fingers beneath his chin. “But is that why we’re here today?”
Both of the children quietened.
“What the supervising teacher told me was that she saw Robin push Kevin, who hit her on the face.” He gestured to the bruise on Robin’s chin. “The other children said that Kevin was calling her names. I would like to reiterate that there is a strict, no-violence policy at this school, and would like you both to go home and think about the way you have behaved. Neil, Andrew: You should help them reflect and compose apology letters to one another. I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.”
Andrew glared daggers, standing abruptly and ushering his son out the door. Neil grabbed Robin by the shoulder and dragged her out.
When they caught up to the other pair, Neil sniped: “Really appreciated being dragged in here, thanks.”
“Maybe butchering is a hereditary thing, hm?” Andrew examined his car-keys. They were sleek, an expensive model that Neil couldn’t possibly name. “Such a shame.”
Neil fumed. Sensing Neil’s irritation, Andrew turned a blank look on him; Neil wondered how someone with such a void-like gaze could be a parent.
“Let’s go home.” He murmured. Robin tucked herself into Neil’s side and they hurried out of the administration building together.
Here’s how it goes:
Neil was almost 24, and coached Exy teams in Couth Carolina’s little league. He’d got out of his family’s criminal history through his Exy scholarship, but never taken it further. He hadn’t even really liked kids, but it was something to do.
Then, because Neil’s tragic existence seemed to be catastrophic for those around him, a car t-boned into a van outside his apartment. Neil, always running in the early hours of the morning, immediately rushed over. The sedan’s driver was a crumpled heap, blood splattered across the windscreen -- he most likely dead, so Neil ignored him. But there were screams coming from the back of the van, so he yanked the damaged door open.
Bruised and bleeding, curled into the corner of the van, was Robin. She was thrown into the foster system as an infant, and was then kidnapped at the age of three. No one cared about a foster kid going missing. Her missing person’s file was practically non-existent, especially after 2 years. Robin had clambered into his arms as he pulled her out of the back of that van, and he hasn’t had a full night’s sleep since.
Four years later, he’d set up a scholarship program in the little league, his daughter was making enemies at her new school, and Neil still didn’t regret a thing.
Andrew sat in the car and thought about the best way to approach this. For Kevin’s sake, he would be a role-model. But every inch of that Josten had him wanting to clench his fists. Of course he knew of him: Exy had gotten him through college. The Josten scandal was everywhere: Leaving the Ravens for the Trojans, Jean Moreau quickly following suit, the Butcher of Baltimore, the Moriyamas, the FBI; Then, settling down to coach kids. That drama had to be almost a decade ago, though. Didn’t matter. Exy had never mattered to Andrew. His degree had also been second thought: His occupation was satisfying, but never thrilling.
Having a kid, though. Jesus.
Kevin was a handful and a half. He was brimming with energy and emotion, repressed anger and competitiveness creating a volatile reaction to most situations. Andrew had taken Kevin in after his mother’s death, his old exy coach, Wymack, being the father but being unable to, you know. Father.
Andrew didn’t understand how the fuck he was meant to be any better.
“I’m sorry, Andrew.” Kevin didn’t look that apologetic. “She’s just super annoying! And she wouldn’t shut up about how her dad’s team is the best, and she loves her dad, and he’s the best, and how she’s going to play Exy too. Exy, exy, exy. All the time! It drives me insane! She talks so loudly, too. And so much. She never shuts up.”
Andrew could read his son. “Usually people aren’t this successful at getting under your skin, Kevin.”
“I hate her!” He frowned, his lips puckering. It was stupidly adorable. Andrew hated the word adorable. “I really do, you know. She’s always teasing me about liking history and reading my books. She can’t even do maths!”
“Remember what I tell you, Kevin.” Andrew switched on the ignition and swerved out of his car-parking space. He searched for the flash of an expensive sportscar, of which would be presumedly Neil’s, but he couldn’t find one.
“Be the better person so you can shove their own failures up their asses, I know.” Kevin drew his feet onto the dashboard but Andrew swatted them down.
“No feet on the dashboard.” He pointed at Kevin but the brat pushed his hand away, promptly sticking out his tongue.
God, why did he decide to have kids?
Oh yeah. He didn’t. Right.
(Still didn’t believe in regret, though.)
i hope this made sense!
i just think itd be hilarious lmao imagine seeing a parent in the lobby and be like damn and then figure out that their kid and your kid hate each other
