Existence 01 - Existence Read Free

with myself for acting like a jerk. ‘Jerk’ belonged in his job description, not mine.
    * * * *
    My book bag landed on the kitchen counter with a heavy thump, announcing my return. I headed for the fridge. The fresh squeezed orange juice I’d worked so hard on yesterday sounded good.
    “Pagan, honey, is that you?” My mom’s voice called from down the hall. She was huddled in the corner of her office with a large cup of coffee, typing away on her computer. I didn’t have to see her to know this. My mother is a writer. She lives in stained sweats behind her computer.
    “Yes,” I replied. Before I could pour myself a glass of orange juice, the sound of her slippers flopping against the hardwood floors surprised me. This was a strange occurrence. Rarely did she break away from her writing when I came home from school. It was usually closer to dinner time before she graced me with her presence.
    “Good, I’m glad you came straight home. I need to talk to you and then I have to get dressed.” She motioned to her baggy sweats and large Atlanta Braves t-shirt. “I’m having dinner with Roger but don’t worry, I’m leaving you money to order a pizza.” She pulled a bar stool out and her friendly face turned serious. It wasn’t a good serious, either. This was the kind of serious I recognized but rarely experienced.
    “What?” I asked as I set my glass down.
    Mom’s back became more rigid as she cleared her throat. The “I am disappointed in you” frown turned the corners of her lips down. I quickly racked my brain, trying to think of something I might have done to upset her, but nothing came to mind.
    “I received a call, right in the middle of chapter fifteen, from Mr. Yorkley.”
    Uh oh, she knew about Leif. “Mr. Yorkley?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know what this was about. Mom nodded and tilted her head to the side as if she were studying me to see if she believed I really had no idea why my teacher might call. The head tilt always made me nervous. I braced myself. She was about to let me have it. I’d been a jerk, but in my defense it wasn’t like I did any damage. I’d made fun of the reigning king, not someone with low self-esteem.
    “Apparently, there is a young man who has a learning disability and was told to seek you out for extra tutoring. You did sign up to tutor this year for extra credit. My question is: why, Pagan, would you not help a student at your school who struggles with something as serious as dyslexia? The boy, I’m told, has the opportunity to be given a scholarship on his athletic abilities, but his handicap requires he get extra help in certain classes. He needs someone to help him put the speeches he must write on paper. That doesn’t seem like too much to ask. You did say you wanted to tutor this year. Explain to me why you chose to tell this boy no, and I’m telling you now it had better be good.” She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, in her “I’m waiting” stance.
    Leif suffered from dyslexia? Was this a joke? I’d been going to school with him most of my life. Girls, Miranda included, knew everything about him. Heck, Miranda once told me exactly where his birthmark happened to be located.
    Not that I cared. How could Leif Montgomery have dyslexia and no one know it?
    I thought back to Leif asking me for help in the lunchroom today and the way I’d acted. The revelation that Leif dealt with something like dyslexia and still managed to make such good grades bothered me. I wasn’t sure why, exactly, but it did. I liked thinking of him as a jock. Someone who managed to get heaps of good fortune dumped on his head. Now all I could think about was the way he looked today when he’d come to ask me for help. A sick knot settled in the pit of my stomach.
    I glanced up at my mom and shook my head slowly, “I had no idea he had a learning disability. He’s always so cocky and sure of himself. I was surprised he came to me for help and I immediately