ONE
Aleah Matthews pasted on a smile as she rang up the purchases of her umpteenth customer of the night. “That’ll be ten seventy-four.”
The customer paid, and Aleah handed him his purchases. “Have a good night.”
“You too.” The man gave her a brief smile and headed out the door.
Aleah sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall. Five minutes left of her shift. She didn’t mind working at Walgreens, but standing at a cash register from four to ten every night wasn’t her favorite way to spend her time.
She glanced over to make sure her supervisor wasn’t watching, then pulled out her phone. Four missed text messages. The first was from Nick: How much longer? She typed out a quick response: leaving in 5 min. Can’t wait till I’m @ ur place! Nick was a junior like Aleah, and his parents were out for the night. Probably until about midnight, he’d said. Nick and Aleah would have free reign of the house for at least an hour.
She checked her other texts. One was from Jason, the guy she’d hooked up with last night and the night before, asking when he’d see her again. The other two were from guys she’d never met, but who’d heard of her “easy” reputation and gotten her number from other guys. They were asking if she’d make some time in her busy schedule for them.
As she thought about what kind of flirty, funny reply she could give them, another text came in. Aleah sighed when she saw that it was from her mom. What time will you be home?
With another glance around for her supervisor, Aleah typed a response: I’m working till 11. Should be home before 12. Don’t text me unless it’s an emergency. Don’t wanna get in trouble with my manager.
The response came a few seconds later: You need to talk to your manager about cutting back on your hours. You need your sleep and Austin needs you home more. There are laws against minors working too late on school nights. Your manager should know that.
Aleah rolled her eyes, even as a tiny sense of nervousness trickled through her body. Her mom was right. There were laws about minors working too late, which was why Aleah was never scheduled to work a minute past ten. What if her mom researched those laws and realized that Aleah’s late nights couldn’t possibly be as a result of her part-time job?
Aleah shook her head to clear her doubts. Her mom wouldn’t research anything on her behalf. Since the death of her husband six years ago, Georgia Matthews had become Miss Work Work Work, and Aleah had become Miss Fend-For-Herself Independent Woman. Even at ten years old.
Aleah’s phone now read 10:00. She slipped it back into her pocket and walked over to her supervisor. “Hey,” she said. “It’s ten. I gotta go.”
“All right.” Her supervisor was an older man, with gray hair and large round glasses. He had a kind demeanor that almost made Aleah feel bad for texting on her shift, since she knew it wasn’t permitted. But what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. “You have a good night now. Go home and get some rest; you look exhausted.”
Aleah smiled and wiped her long, dark hair away from her face. She had been feeling more tired than usual lately, that was for sure. Probably as a result of her long nights out and early mornings awake for school. And, of course, Austin’s random wake-ups in the middle of the night didn’t help either.
“See you tomorrow, Seth,” she said.
She walked to her car, a secondhand silver Toyota Camry. The thing was at least ten years old, but it ran smoothly, at least for now. Aleah was thankful. She needed her own car. It hadn’t been bad not having a car back when she and Jared were together, since he could drive her anywhere she needed to go. But after what he did to her…
She swore under her breath as she turned the ignition. Jared was in the past. He would never be part of her life again; that she was sure of. So she didn’t want to waste any time thinking about him. Especially when there were so many other guys to think of.
The radio was on, tuned to Aleah’s favorite pop station. The song playing was the old hit “Baby,” by Justin Bieber. Aleah sang along for a few beats before changing to another station. The title word was too much for her. Never mind that Justin was singing about a girlfriend. No matter how many songs she heard in which the word “baby” was used to describe a significant other, the word always brought a small twinge of guilt to Aleah’s heart. Guilt because the word made her think of someone she should probably be with right now. Not Nick or Jason or any of the other boys, and definitely not Jared.
But a boy who literally was a baby. Austin Isaiah Matthews, her six-month-old son.
The customer paid, and Aleah handed him his purchases. “Have a good night.”
“You too.” The man gave her a brief smile and headed out the door.
Aleah sighed and glanced at the clock on the wall. Five minutes left of her shift. She didn’t mind working at Walgreens, but standing at a cash register from four to ten every night wasn’t her favorite way to spend her time.
She glanced over to make sure her supervisor wasn’t watching, then pulled out her phone. Four missed text messages. The first was from Nick: How much longer? She typed out a quick response: leaving in 5 min. Can’t wait till I’m @ ur place! Nick was a junior like Aleah, and his parents were out for the night. Probably until about midnight, he’d said. Nick and Aleah would have free reign of the house for at least an hour.
She checked her other texts. One was from Jason, the guy she’d hooked up with last night and the night before, asking when he’d see her again. The other two were from guys she’d never met, but who’d heard of her “easy” reputation and gotten her number from other guys. They were asking if she’d make some time in her busy schedule for them.
As she thought about what kind of flirty, funny reply she could give them, another text came in. Aleah sighed when she saw that it was from her mom. What time will you be home?
With another glance around for her supervisor, Aleah typed a response: I’m working till 11. Should be home before 12. Don’t text me unless it’s an emergency. Don’t wanna get in trouble with my manager.
The response came a few seconds later: You need to talk to your manager about cutting back on your hours. You need your sleep and Austin needs you home more. There are laws against minors working too late on school nights. Your manager should know that.
Aleah rolled her eyes, even as a tiny sense of nervousness trickled through her body. Her mom was right. There were laws about minors working too late, which was why Aleah was never scheduled to work a minute past ten. What if her mom researched those laws and realized that Aleah’s late nights couldn’t possibly be as a result of her part-time job?
Aleah shook her head to clear her doubts. Her mom wouldn’t research anything on her behalf. Since the death of her husband six years ago, Georgia Matthews had become Miss Work Work Work, and Aleah had become Miss Fend-For-Herself Independent Woman. Even at ten years old.
Aleah’s phone now read 10:00. She slipped it back into her pocket and walked over to her supervisor. “Hey,” she said. “It’s ten. I gotta go.”
“All right.” Her supervisor was an older man, with gray hair and large round glasses. He had a kind demeanor that almost made Aleah feel bad for texting on her shift, since she knew it wasn’t permitted. But what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. “You have a good night now. Go home and get some rest; you look exhausted.”
Aleah smiled and wiped her long, dark hair away from her face. She had been feeling more tired than usual lately, that was for sure. Probably as a result of her long nights out and early mornings awake for school. And, of course, Austin’s random wake-ups in the middle of the night didn’t help either.
“See you tomorrow, Seth,” she said.
She walked to her car, a secondhand silver Toyota Camry. The thing was at least ten years old, but it ran smoothly, at least for now. Aleah was thankful. She needed her own car. It hadn’t been bad not having a car back when she and Jared were together, since he could drive her anywhere she needed to go. But after what he did to her…
She swore under her breath as she turned the ignition. Jared was in the past. He would never be part of her life again; that she was sure of. So she didn’t want to waste any time thinking about him. Especially when there were so many other guys to think of.
The radio was on, tuned to Aleah’s favorite pop station. The song playing was the old hit “Baby,” by Justin Bieber. Aleah sang along for a few beats before changing to another station. The title word was too much for her. Never mind that Justin was singing about a girlfriend. No matter how many songs she heard in which the word “baby” was used to describe a significant other, the word always brought a small twinge of guilt to Aleah’s heart. Guilt because the word made her think of someone she should probably be with right now. Not Nick or Jason or any of the other boys, and definitely not Jared.
But a boy who literally was a baby. Austin Isaiah Matthews, her six-month-old son.
TWO
Pastor Steve Jenkins stood at the door of his church, smiling warmly at each teenager who came through the door. “Owen, what’s up, my man? Rachel, what beautiful shoes. Christine, where’s your little puppy tonight? She provided quite the entertainment last week.”
The kids responded with smiles, with genuine conversation, with laughter at the memory of Christine’s tiny Shih Tzu running around the church basement. Pastor Steve loved these weekly New Life meetings, in which the teenagers of his church came together to pray, sing, eat snacks, play games, and enjoy good, wholesome time together. It was only the third year the youth group had been in operation, and already it had grown from a small meeting of five kids to a hangout place for almost all the church’s high-schoolers—plus several of their friends who didn’t regularly attend church.
Steve listened to snatches of conversation as the kids filed past him, down into the church basement. “Yo, me and Mikey get the foosball table first this time!” “Hey Jess, wanna take Lynds and Tanya on in ping pong with me?” “All right! Guys, he brought brownies this week!” The kids were full of energy, full of life, and ready for a night full of safe, age-appropriate fun.
Thank You, God… Thank You for letting me do this. Thank You for the difference this is making in these kids’ lives. Steve allowed himself to think back to the circumstances under which New Life had been created. Four years ago, Steve had been a broken man, on the verge of depression and hopelessness. He’d loved his job as pastor of Newton Community Church, and even more, he’d loved being a daddy to his sweet-natured four-year-old son, Ben. But ever since the death of his wife nearly three years before at the hands of a seventeen-year-old drunk driver, he had wanted to do something more in life. He didn’t have the power to stop everyone in the world from drinking and driving, but he wanted some way to reach people—especially teens—and encourage them to make safer choices. Or maybe a way to influence kids’ lives so that they wouldn’t feel the need to drink in the first place.
Steve had spent months praying for a way to put his feelings into action. And shortly after the three-year anniversary of his wife’s death, God had given him an idea.
Why not create a youth group for the kids at his church?
Newton Community Church was a small congregation, with not much going on aside from Sunday services, Sunday school for the younger children, and a once-a-week Bible study for adults. A youth group would be a wonderful way to get the teenagers more involved, to help them be positive role models for each other and encourage one another in their faith. It would give them a couple hours a week to unwind, to forget about whatever craziness was happening at school or at home, and be reminded of what really mattered. It would give them a place where everyone was accepted, no matter how different they were or how much they felt like they didn’t fit in anywhere else. And it would be a place where nobody would be offered alcohol.
Steve had advertised the youth group in the church bulletin, and the first night only five kids had shown up. Steve had opened with a song and a short message based on a Bible verse he had chosen. Then he’d given the kids time to hang out, play pool and foosball and ping-pong and board games, and eat the chocolate-chip cookies he’d baked for them. Four of the original five had continued coming in the weeks after that, and two others began showing up sporadically.
Months into the start of the youth group, Steve had had a talk with his parents about how attendance wasn’t quite what he’d hoped it would be. His dad had said something he’d never forget: “Why are you limiting your youth group only to kids who go to our church? They’re probably not the ones who’ll be spending their weeknights drinking, son. You need to open your doors up to the greater community if you want to make a real impact.”
So Steve had put an advertisement in the local paper, and added to the church’s sign out front: NEW LIFE HIGH SCHOOL YOUTH GROUP, WED 7-9. ALL ARE WELCOME. And just like that, New Life’s attendance had doubled. Kids from all walks of life came through his doors. Some had never set foot in a church in their lives; others were faithful attenders of different churches. It didn’t matter who they were or where they came from. Steve welcomed all of them with the same message: “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Over the three years New Life had been in operation, Steve had witnessed changes in over a dozen kids’ lives. Four kids had told him that it was because of New Life that they now had a saving relationship with Jesus. One boy had told him that he used to consider committing suicide because he was bullied at school, but upon attending a New Life meeting, he felt overwhelmed by the love and support he found there. And another girl had confessed that she used to drink to make her troubles go away, but she didn’t have to anymore because now she had God in her life.
God was using Steve to save teenagers’ lives all throughout the city—both from death on earth and from hell. He finally felt fulfilled. He had a purpose. And he would continue serving this purpose for as long as God wanted him to.
“Hey, Pastor Steve!”
Steve jerked himself back into the present. The boy calling him was a slightly overweight, curly-haired senior named Trevor. Trevor was one of the originals of New Life, and Steve could still picture how he’d looked the night of their first meeting—shy and anxious, unsure of whether he belonged. Now, Trevor was the picture of confidence, cheerful and easygoing, and good friends with nearly all of the New Life teens.
“Trevor! What’s up, buddy?”
“Abby and Luis are wondering where you put Apples to Apples. And Jeff and I are waiting for you to take us on in pool. Remember, last week? You promised!”
Steve chuckled. “I sure did. All right, I’m coming.” New Life meetings always started with time for the kids to arrive and greet their friends, and then Steve would gather them for a prayer, a song, and a message on a specific Bible verse or important topic. Steve was aware that most kids came to New Life for the social aspect, not to be preached at, so he tried to keep his messages brief and to-the-point.
Sometimes he would incorporate a short team-building activity afterwards, but he always reserved the last hour or so for recreation time.
As Steve walked downstairs to join the teenagers who had become so near and dear to him, he thanked God once again for fulfilling his dream—that he could do something to make an impact in the lives of kids who otherwise might be out drinking, on the road toward ruining their own or someone else’s life. He prayed for his New Life teenagers, that they would continue to live in ways that glorified the Lord. And he prayed for the other teenagers out there, the ones who didn’t have a safe place like New Life to go to. The ones who, right at that moment, might be bent on destroying themselves.
THREE
Georgia Matthews was worried about her daughter. It was 12:38a.m. and Aleah still wasn’t home. Really. What kind of store manager thought it was okay to keep sixteen-year-olds at work through all hours of the night? Aleah was rarely home before midnight, and even on the nights she turned in early—“early” being eleven or eleven-thirty, for Aleah—Georgia could see the dark circles under her eyes and the way she seemed to struggle to stay awake. It wasn’t safe for Aleah to be driving home that way. Everyone knew driving while drowsy was dangerous.
Georgia sent Aleah a quick text--where are you?—as she stared once again out the darkened window, hoping to see her daughter’s headlights turning in to the driveway. Aleah probably wouldn’t respond. She’d already chewed Georgia out more times than Georgia could count for texting her at work. If you really aren’t supposed to use your phone during work, then shouldn’t it be off? It’s your fault, not mine, if I text you and your phone is on during work. Who else are you texting?
Georgia hoped Aleah didn’t have another boyfriend. After the mess with Jared, Aleah should have learned her lesson. But who knew? If Jared had been able to convince her he was genuine, maybe some other guy had done the same thing. Georgia had no way of knowing. She and Aleah didn’t really talk. Not anymore.
Georgia allowed herself to think back to the days when her husband was alive. Those joyful days when it was her and Kevin and Aleah, and every day was sunshine and rainbows. Georgia had been a stay-at-home mom back then, and she and Aleah had spent every afternoon together. Kevin was always home by dinnertime, and evenings were reserved for the three of them as a family.
Georgia and Kevin had tried to have more children in the years following Aleah’s birth, but their attempts were unsuccessful. If we’d been able to have more children… if Aleah had younger brothers and sisters… would she still be the way she is? Georgia had no answer, but it didn’t matter. They hadn’t had more children, and Aleah was the way she was. Period.
An uncomfortable cry came from the room down the hall, and Georgia rolled her eyes as she headed to see what was wrong with little Austin. Georgia couldn’t count the number of times she’d needed to get up for him in the middle of the night, because Aleah was still at work or sleeping off her exhaustion from her too-long hours. Georgia supposed it was good that Aleah was so dedicated to her job, but wished she were more dedicated to her baby.
Really, Georgia huffed as she made her way into the room Austin and Aleah shared. I’m not his mother. Aleah’s his mother. Shouldn’t she be the one taking care of him?
“You’re going to grow up thinking I’m your mommy, aren’t you?” she asked quietly as she eased the light on with the dimmer switch.
Austin cried and squirmed in his crib.
“It’s okay. Nana’s coming.” She refrained from saying, “Mommy’s coming.” Aleah would never forgive her if she started referring to herself as Austin’s mom. Or would she even care? Maybe that was what Aleah wanted. Maybe she wanted Georgia to raise Austin as her own son, leaving Aleah free of all responsibility. Well, too late for that, honey. I got over my desire for more kids the day your father died. I was never cut out to be a single mom. And neither were you.
Georgia picked Austin up and smelled him. He was definitely in need of a diaper change. Georgia had probably changed more diapers in the past month than Aleah ever had in her life. And where is she now?
Georgia changed Austin in the kitchen. The moment she finished, she saw the long-awaited headlights pulling into the driveway. Figures. Once again, Aleah escapes the dirty work.
Aleah stepped inside, blinking in the light. “Hey,” she said disinterestedly. “Why’s it so bright in here?”
“Because I was just changing your baby’s diaper. He was crying and you weren’t home.” Georgia handed the baby to Aleah. “Here. Get him back to bed.”
Aleah sighed heavily. She looked exhausted, but Georgia felt little pity for her. “Hey,” she shrugged. “It’s your fault you have a baby, you know.”
Aleah huffed indignantly. “But it’s not my fault his stupid father isn’t helping me raise him! Jerk.”
“Not a lot of teenage boys want to take responsibility for children they’ve fathered,” Georgia reminded her sharply. “You should have thought of that before you decided to have sex with him.”
Anger flashed in Aleah’s eyes. “Yeah, well, you should have told me that stuff before I got involved with Jared. Maybe if you’d been around more and acted like you actually cared about me, I wouldn’t have wanted to have sex with him.”
Aleah’s words felt like a slap in the face. Georgia had nothing to say as her daughter stalked down the hall.
Oh, Kevin, Georgia thought. If you were here, you’d know how to handle her. If you were here, she wouldn’t have gotten into this mess in the first place. It wasn’t Georgia’s fault that she hadn’t been around much the past six and a half years. She had to work, had to make an income to replace the one they’d lost when Kevin passed away. Aleah had spent a few years going to the local Boys and Girls Club after school, but in eighth grade she’d convinced Georgia she’d rather stay home alone.
Okay, so I was stupid for agreeing to that. But still. Aleah knew what could happen. They learn about that kind of stuff in school, right? Health class?
Georgia strolled to her bedroom, past Aleah’s room, where Austin had started crying again. Aleah was standing over his crib, watching him with a look of complete bafflement and panic on her face. Georgia could have gone in and shared the secret that always worked for her—pick him up and rock him back and forth to a Billy Joel song—but hey, he was Aleah’s baby. Let Aleah figure it out herself.
By the time Georgia was ready for bed, the crying had stopped. Aleah was stepping into the hallway, looking more wiped than she had all week.
Relations between Georgia and Aleah may have been strained, but Georgia still had a mother’s compassion, a mother’s love. “Aleah… you look exhausted. You need to talk to your manager about cutting down on your hours. It’s not healthy for you to be getting so little sleep.”
Aleah’s expression was unreadable. “I’m fine.”
“Your grades aren’t.” Aleah’s first-quarter report card had been dismal. Given the circumstances, Georgia wasn’t expecting A’s or B’s, but she figured Aleah could at least scrape by with something better than F’s in all her classes. This was her junior year, the time when kids were supposed to start thinking about the future. Aleah may not be planning on going to college, but she should at least try to graduate with a decent GPA.
Aleah rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry that I don’t have a lot of time to study between working at my job and taking care of my kid.”
“Taking care of your kid?” Georgia exclaimed incredulously. “You call thirty minutes in the morning and twenty minutes at night taking care of your kid?”
“You’re expecting me to do too much,” snapped Aleah. “You want me to go to school, study, take care of Austin, go to work, and somehow find time to sleep. Maybe I should just drop out of school. That would free up a lot of time.”
“Don’t even think about it,” said Georgia. She was suddenly sorry she’d even started the conversation. “You know what, it’s late. Go to bed so you’ll at least have some energy left for school tomorrow. And I’m telling you, you need to talk to your manager.”
Aleah walked silently into the bathroom and shut the door. Shutting Georgia off. Shutting Georgia out.
Just like she’d been shutting Georgia out of her life for the past six years.
Georgia sent Aleah a quick text--where are you?—as she stared once again out the darkened window, hoping to see her daughter’s headlights turning in to the driveway. Aleah probably wouldn’t respond. She’d already chewed Georgia out more times than Georgia could count for texting her at work. If you really aren’t supposed to use your phone during work, then shouldn’t it be off? It’s your fault, not mine, if I text you and your phone is on during work. Who else are you texting?
Georgia hoped Aleah didn’t have another boyfriend. After the mess with Jared, Aleah should have learned her lesson. But who knew? If Jared had been able to convince her he was genuine, maybe some other guy had done the same thing. Georgia had no way of knowing. She and Aleah didn’t really talk. Not anymore.
Georgia allowed herself to think back to the days when her husband was alive. Those joyful days when it was her and Kevin and Aleah, and every day was sunshine and rainbows. Georgia had been a stay-at-home mom back then, and she and Aleah had spent every afternoon together. Kevin was always home by dinnertime, and evenings were reserved for the three of them as a family.
Georgia and Kevin had tried to have more children in the years following Aleah’s birth, but their attempts were unsuccessful. If we’d been able to have more children… if Aleah had younger brothers and sisters… would she still be the way she is? Georgia had no answer, but it didn’t matter. They hadn’t had more children, and Aleah was the way she was. Period.
An uncomfortable cry came from the room down the hall, and Georgia rolled her eyes as she headed to see what was wrong with little Austin. Georgia couldn’t count the number of times she’d needed to get up for him in the middle of the night, because Aleah was still at work or sleeping off her exhaustion from her too-long hours. Georgia supposed it was good that Aleah was so dedicated to her job, but wished she were more dedicated to her baby.
Really, Georgia huffed as she made her way into the room Austin and Aleah shared. I’m not his mother. Aleah’s his mother. Shouldn’t she be the one taking care of him?
“You’re going to grow up thinking I’m your mommy, aren’t you?” she asked quietly as she eased the light on with the dimmer switch.
Austin cried and squirmed in his crib.
“It’s okay. Nana’s coming.” She refrained from saying, “Mommy’s coming.” Aleah would never forgive her if she started referring to herself as Austin’s mom. Or would she even care? Maybe that was what Aleah wanted. Maybe she wanted Georgia to raise Austin as her own son, leaving Aleah free of all responsibility. Well, too late for that, honey. I got over my desire for more kids the day your father died. I was never cut out to be a single mom. And neither were you.
Georgia picked Austin up and smelled him. He was definitely in need of a diaper change. Georgia had probably changed more diapers in the past month than Aleah ever had in her life. And where is she now?
Georgia changed Austin in the kitchen. The moment she finished, she saw the long-awaited headlights pulling into the driveway. Figures. Once again, Aleah escapes the dirty work.
Aleah stepped inside, blinking in the light. “Hey,” she said disinterestedly. “Why’s it so bright in here?”
“Because I was just changing your baby’s diaper. He was crying and you weren’t home.” Georgia handed the baby to Aleah. “Here. Get him back to bed.”
Aleah sighed heavily. She looked exhausted, but Georgia felt little pity for her. “Hey,” she shrugged. “It’s your fault you have a baby, you know.”
Aleah huffed indignantly. “But it’s not my fault his stupid father isn’t helping me raise him! Jerk.”
“Not a lot of teenage boys want to take responsibility for children they’ve fathered,” Georgia reminded her sharply. “You should have thought of that before you decided to have sex with him.”
Anger flashed in Aleah’s eyes. “Yeah, well, you should have told me that stuff before I got involved with Jared. Maybe if you’d been around more and acted like you actually cared about me, I wouldn’t have wanted to have sex with him.”
Aleah’s words felt like a slap in the face. Georgia had nothing to say as her daughter stalked down the hall.
Oh, Kevin, Georgia thought. If you were here, you’d know how to handle her. If you were here, she wouldn’t have gotten into this mess in the first place. It wasn’t Georgia’s fault that she hadn’t been around much the past six and a half years. She had to work, had to make an income to replace the one they’d lost when Kevin passed away. Aleah had spent a few years going to the local Boys and Girls Club after school, but in eighth grade she’d convinced Georgia she’d rather stay home alone.
Okay, so I was stupid for agreeing to that. But still. Aleah knew what could happen. They learn about that kind of stuff in school, right? Health class?
Georgia strolled to her bedroom, past Aleah’s room, where Austin had started crying again. Aleah was standing over his crib, watching him with a look of complete bafflement and panic on her face. Georgia could have gone in and shared the secret that always worked for her—pick him up and rock him back and forth to a Billy Joel song—but hey, he was Aleah’s baby. Let Aleah figure it out herself.
By the time Georgia was ready for bed, the crying had stopped. Aleah was stepping into the hallway, looking more wiped than she had all week.
Relations between Georgia and Aleah may have been strained, but Georgia still had a mother’s compassion, a mother’s love. “Aleah… you look exhausted. You need to talk to your manager about cutting down on your hours. It’s not healthy for you to be getting so little sleep.”
Aleah’s expression was unreadable. “I’m fine.”
“Your grades aren’t.” Aleah’s first-quarter report card had been dismal. Given the circumstances, Georgia wasn’t expecting A’s or B’s, but she figured Aleah could at least scrape by with something better than F’s in all her classes. This was her junior year, the time when kids were supposed to start thinking about the future. Aleah may not be planning on going to college, but she should at least try to graduate with a decent GPA.
Aleah rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry that I don’t have a lot of time to study between working at my job and taking care of my kid.”
“Taking care of your kid?” Georgia exclaimed incredulously. “You call thirty minutes in the morning and twenty minutes at night taking care of your kid?”
“You’re expecting me to do too much,” snapped Aleah. “You want me to go to school, study, take care of Austin, go to work, and somehow find time to sleep. Maybe I should just drop out of school. That would free up a lot of time.”
“Don’t even think about it,” said Georgia. She was suddenly sorry she’d even started the conversation. “You know what, it’s late. Go to bed so you’ll at least have some energy left for school tomorrow. And I’m telling you, you need to talk to your manager.”
Aleah walked silently into the bathroom and shut the door. Shutting Georgia off. Shutting Georgia out.
Just like she’d been shutting Georgia out of her life for the past six years.
