The sun had already begun its ascent into the sky, and the roads were filled with cars as people rushed to their destinations.
Shops were opening, and a newspaper boy rode his bicycle through the estate, tossing newspapers onto doorsteps.
It was another busy Tuesday.
John observed all of this as he walked to school, music playing in his ears. Despite already being late, he didn't run or show any urgency.
There was no need—his school was only one kilometer away.
He could invite his friends over after school, but there was no way in hell he was going to do that.
NO WAY.
John: I definitely don't want anyone to find out about my mom.
For a brief moment, irritation flickered across his face. He hated the lengths he had to go to in order to keep his mother away from his school life.
As John approached the school gate, he spotted a stern-looking teacher standing there, arms crossed. It was Mr. Everworth. From the look on his face, it was obvious he had been expecting John to show up late—again. The veins on the teacher's forehead seemed to pop out as John got closer.
John sighed and removed his earphones, stuffing them into his pocket along with his phone.
John: Here we go again…
****
Mr Everworth: Every single day! It's always an issue with you! Why do you keep coming late to school?
John: (sighs) I'm sorry Mr Everworth. I'll try to make it to school on time.
Mr Everworth: (infuriated) That's what you said yesterday! And last week! How can you keep saying those words but never take action?
John: (to himself) Chill out, dude. I came to school late, not murdered the president.
Mr Everworth: (sighs) And there it is—that nonchalant attitude of yours! If you keep this up, I'll have to call your mother and discuss your unacceptable behavior.
John stiffened.
That was the last thing he wanted.
His mother showing up at school would ruin everything.
That was something that John DID NOT want to happen under any circumstances. His mother showing up to his school would ruin the life he has in school.
The truth was, John struggled to sleep at night because of the "visitors" his mother constantly brought home. Their noise kept him awake, making it nearly impossible to get a full night's rest.
But he couldn't tell Mr. Everworth that.
He had to talk his way out of this.
John: (nervously) Sir, that won't be necessary, right?
Mr Everworth: Not if you fix this habit.
John hesitated. The idea of his classmates meeting his mother terrified him.
John: I promise I'll do better, sir. I'll be punctual starting tomorrow.
Mr. Everworth studied John's face and, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, decided to let it go.
Mr Everworth: Then you can leave my office. (gestures him out) Go on, go to class.
John grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and left the office.
As he stepped into the empty hallway, his eyes flicked to the wall clock.
9:15AM.
The first class started 15 minutes ago.
He sighed and began walking toward his classroom.
***
My name is Johnathan Wellman, but everyone just calls me John.
And right now, I'm living the shittiest life imaginable.
You don't believe me? Fine. Let me run you through some things.
From what you saw earlier, you probably already figured out what my mom does for a living. If you didn't, well… that's on you.
It's been this way for as long as I can remember. Almost every night, she brings a man home, and they do their… activities in the bedroom. It annoys the hell out of me because it always interrupts my studying—or worse, my sleep.
Pretty sure that's how I was born.
I never knew my dad & my mom has been doing this since forever.
Anyways The money she makes keeps us from being poor, but…
It's just wrong.
Selling yourself short for a handful of cash and using "providing for me" as an excuse? That's bullshit.
I hate every second of it.
Most kids feel safe around their moms when they were younger and would always talk to them about anything.
I gotta tell you, I envy those kids & I'd give anything to trade places with them.
I never had that kind of relationship with my mom. And the more I had to hide her from my school life, the more I hated being around her.
Oh, speaking of friends, I should probably introduce you to them.
*****
John slipped into the classroom through the back door, immediately scanning the front to check if the teacher was there.
Fortunately, he wasn't, so John casually walked into the class.
John: (smirks) Must be my lucky day.
The classroom was as chaotic as usual, everyone busy talking in their friend groups. No one paid attention to his late arrival.
At the back of the class, near the window, two boys sat by John's seat. His best friends—Ivan and Joseph.
Ivan, a tall blonde boy, waved him over. Joseph, shorter with black hair, just shook his head.
Ivan: Late again, dude.
Joseph: Yeah, what gives? I even called you last night so we could play Warfare, but you never picked up.
John: (nervously) Sorry, guys. My after-school job wore me out. I didn't have time to check my messages.
Joseph: (sighs)
Ivan: (shrugs) If you say so. Why do you even have an after school job anyway?
John: I just want my own money. Simple.
Ivan: Yeah, but don't you get an allowance?
John: An allowance?
Joseph: Yeah like the money you- (pauses) Wait…you don't know what an allowance is?!
Both Ivan and Joseph stared at him with exaggerated, cartoonish expressions.
Of course, John knew what an allowance was.
He just never got one.
Not with the kind of mother he had.
John: (defensive) Of course I know what an allowance is!
Joseph: Oh yeah? Define it.
Ivan: Yeah! Let's hear it!
John: What? This is ridiculous. Why do I have to prove that I know what an allowance is to you guys?
Their stares only grew more suspicious.
Ivan: (whispers Joseph) He's dodging the question.
Joseph: (whispers back) Quite the convenient thing to do, right?
Ivan: Yes, because why won't you prove you know it to us when we asked?
Joseph: Maybe (glances at John)...he really is a dumbass, after all.
Ivan: (nods his head) I agree.
John: Hey— I'M RIGHT HERE, YOU KNOW!
Annoyed, John turned toward the window and gazed outside.
The high school was beautiful. Elegant walkways lined with flowers and greenery stretched across the campus.
Just outside his window was the courtyard—a once-busy playground, now an open space with a giant tree in the middle.
Students gathered under its shade during lunch, chatting or reading. Right now, someone was watering the flowers that circled the tree, their petals glowing under the sunlight.
Needless to say, it was a beautiful site.
John: Maybe I'll eat lunch there today.
As he admired the scene, a pair of soft hands suddenly covered his eyes.
It was the hands of a girl.
John stiffened.
He could recognize the scent of her perfume anywhere.
John: Crap… it's her.