Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Are you excited about today?” I take a sip of coffee. Hopefully, the caffeine will kick in soon, and I won’t feel like such a zombie.
“I don’t know.” She lifts a piece of her cereal to Pippin, and he takes it in his tiny pink front paws and starts to eat.
“I think it’s going to be great. You’ll make some friends, maybe even some who live in the neighborhood, and I heard that they have a play that the fourth graders can sign up for, that might be fun.”
“Maybe,” she mumbles with a noncommittal shrug of both her shoulders.
I don’t push the subject; I know she is nervous about today. First days of school are always difficult. Add on top of that not knowing anyone and that just makes it even worse.
After putting her breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, she gets back on her stool. I brush out her long blonde hair and put it into two pig tails at the top of her head then twist each of them into tight buns that I secure with bobby pins.
“Alright.” I finish with a coat of hairspray, and she picks up the mirror to inspect her reflection. “Good?”
“Yes.” She looks at me over her shoulder. Her unusual green-blue eyes, that are the exact color as my own, meet mine as she smiles. Our eye color is the only feature we share; in every other way, we look vastly different. I have no idea who my father is, but with my somewhat darker complexion and dark curly hair, I have always assumed that he was Black. I don’t know that for certain, and Sharon has claimed she doesn’t remember him, the same way she claims to not remember who Zuri’s father is.
“Did you put your lunch in your backpack?”
“Not yet, it’s in the fridge.”
“Okay,” I kiss the side of her head. “Grab it and fill up your water bottle, I’ll clean all this up.” While I clean up, she gathers all of her stuff and puts Pippin in his cage in her bedroom then meets me by the front door where I slip on my sandals and grab the keys for my Bronco.
The drive to the school takes less than five minutes, and when we arrive, she’s quiet and watchful from the back seat. The school complex is much smaller than where she went in Colorado, which I’m hoping will help her feel less overwhelmed. Even though today it doesn’t feel smaller, everyone, and I mean everyone, is here for the first day since this is the only day you are allowed to walk your kids to class.
After a few minutes, I find a place to park on a patch of grass where a few other people have parked and meet her gaze in the rearview mirror.
She looks nervous, and I’m nervous for her.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” She opens her door and gets out with her backpack, and I meet her at the trunk of my Bronco and hold out my hand to her, and she places her hand in mine.
As we are walking up to the school, I notice a huge lawn sign with the school’s logo, where other parents are taking photos of their kids in front of it.
“Don’t even think about asking me to take a picture,” she grumbles under her breath, obviously reading my mind.
“It’s the first day of fourth grade, of course, I’m going to ask you to take a picture.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine.” She gives in and walks to the sign, faking a smile just for me as I snap a few pictures.
“See, that wasn’t so bad.” I tuck my phone away.
“Says you,” she mumbles under her breath, and I grab her hand once more and lead her towards the gathering crowd. I think I feel as awkward as she does as we join the group of parents who are all smiles and the kids who look scared with back-to-school jitters, waiting to enter the building.
Once we get past the front doors, we head up the stairs to the second floor, where the fourth-grade hall is. We retrace our steps from a week ago when I brought her to back to school night where she had a chance to see her class and meet both her teachers. A couple days after that, I came back on my own for a parent-teacher meeting to go over what would be happening this school year. It was nice to kind of get to know both her teachers and find out exactly what I could expect since I’ve never had to do this before. When Sharon was around, she took care of all this stuff. I only had to step in if she couldn’t pick Zuri up from school. Which became something I had to do more often than not, right before she ended up being arrested.