I know this is late but this is my Christmas story for BTRPlotAdoptionForum so check it out!
Hope you had a great Christmas and have a wonderful New Year!
I don't own BTR ;)
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Carlos' feet tapped at alternative speeds absentmindedly as he chewed on the lid of his pen. Both habits were brought on by jittery nervousness and he berated himself for being so silly. It was just a little English exam, a practice one at that, but hewanted to get a good score. He had been improving all semester and he absolutely needed to keep his B average. Otherwise that meant an angry father and no hockey.
He couldn't live without hockey.
Miss Morgan slowly travelled around the class, handing back all the assignments that they had written last week. She held a professional, passive face that gave nothing away so that the rest of the class wouldn't be able to guess whether it was a good or bad grade. And even though the class was of average ability, Carlos still appreciated that she wasn't the type to give away how she felt about the grades or worse yet, shout the scores out in front of the class.
Carlos suddenly glanced down as his paper was gently placed in front of him. His eyes stung from the tiny droplets collecting and he blinked hard to not let them fall and crossed his arms protectively around his torso. He looked up to see Miss Morgan smiling sympathetically at him, the only time she had let her careful expression fall. She placed another piece of paper onto his desk before moving on to the next student.
Speak with me after the lesson.
Great. Just great. Not only did he mess up on this stupid practice test but his teacher was now disappointed in him as well. Could this get any worse? And if this was the practice, didn't that show how he would do in the real exam? That would see his average plummet big time.
The lesson went along pretty uneventful after that, but Carlos didn't really pay attention too much to Miss Morgan assuring everyone that this was just a practice and wouldn't go towards their final grade. He drowned out all she was saying and instead focused on the swirls of thoughts in his mind: how would his parents react? How could he ever get a high enough grade to maintain that B? What would happen to hockey?
Soon enough the bell was ringing and everyone was packing up their things ready to go home and enjoy their weekend before the cycle of school started again for another week. Carlos got his things together slowly. He needed to stay so why hurry? He briefly wondered if he was actually just trying to prolong the time to the dreaded conversation with his English teacher but brushed that off when he realised there was nothing left to put in his bag. His teacher glanced up and him from her desk. No time like the present.
He gingerly stepped up until he was in front of the oak wood desk and for once found his shoes more interesting than the people around him. The woman before him sighed.
"Carlos, you shouldn't be disappointed. That was a practice. You can easily raise the grade by the real thing." She tried to reassure him, as she shuffled the assignments into a pile beside her.
"I got an F. That's not even close to the grade I need and I don't see how I can skip a load of grades in a semester. It's not possible and I've never done it before."
"Nothing's ever impossible, Carlos. You just have to try really hard and keep on practicing, in school and at home, so that you can bring that grade up to what you want it to be. I've seen it done before and I'm sure you can make it happen again."
"But, Miss, this is me you're talking to. Carlos Garcia. Not someone who plucks A's out of the air like they're feathers off of a turkey."
"Carlos, if you look at what you're writing, the quality is good. Very good. Where it is going wrong is what the question actually asks of you. You have a habit that I like to call panic writing. When presented with the question all logic and technique that we have practiced goes out of the window as it were, and you write about anything and everything...everything but what you're being asked to write about. If you can realise what you need to include, what aspects to answer the essay question with, then you'll be able to reach for those higher grades."
"But, Miss, what if that happens in the real one? What then?"
"I don't believe it will-"
"But what if it does?"
Miss Morgan let a weary smile cross her face as she sighed again deeply. She got out her own bag and delved through it for a few minutes before pulling a leaflet out of the carrier and facing her student again.
"Ok, if you are so worried about this happening again, Carlos, even though it won't, then I can give you something that could help you gain extra credit so that if things do go wrong, and I'm not saying they will, you have that to fall back on and help raise the grade. Ok?"
"I'll write however many essays I have to, honest. I really don't mind."
"Well...it's not essays that I'm proposing. I run a group after school on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays for the children in the elementary school down the street. It's for extra English support, and the children that attend often are behind the average for their age in both writing and reading. If you get permission from your parents, and I want to see a signed note, then you can come along and help them out a bit with whatever it is they're working on. I know you will be able to relate when I say they don't find their lessons all that easy and so I think it's the best way for you to gain that extra credit."
"Oh..umm...are you sure I'm the right person for that? I mean, I'm not really the best at English..."
"You sell yourself too short, Carlos" Miss Morgan smiled "you'll be fine and you're perfectly capable anyway. But remember, permission first, helping out later, right?"
"You got it, Miss. I'll see you Monday then."
"See you Monday Carlos. And don't dwell on the grade too much over the weekend, go play some hockey."
"I got it, see you next week."
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The extra English group was held in the vicinity of the elementary school, within the third grade classrooms. Carlos entered through the doors to the school, an exciting thrill seeming to run down his spine at the familiar doors that had once been his own elementary school and made his way to the classroom he needed to be at. He was around fifteen minutes early, but the phrase "it's the first impression that counts" swirled around in his mind and stuck with him so that he had developed a strange sense of paranoia that if he didn't arrive early, his chance at extra credit would be taken away from him.
Even though he knew Miss Morgan and had know her for a number of years previous, he wanted to present himself well and show off his enthusiasm, something which Carlos didn't usually concern himself in doing.
The teacher smiled brightly as she noticed him peeking around the classroom doorway and beckoned him over.
No one else was in the room, Carlos noticed as he glanced around. Colourful displays littered the walls: pictures that the children had painted, poems that they had written and just general displays like a number line. The letters of the alphabet were strung around the very top part of the classroom, where the walls met the ceiling, and a blue carpet with various animals on covered the floor nicely.
He suddenly spotted that there was indeed another person in the room besides himself and the teacher. A small boy with ivory skin and dark hair sat hunched in the corner of the room, shielding his face by pushing it as close to the piece of paper he was writing on as was humanely possible. Carlos couldn't really tell much else about the kid from the angle that he was in and the protective shell the boy had enclosed himself in didn't help the matter either.
He turned his attention back to his teacher in front of him who was still smiling and he reciprocated with one of his own. Before he went any further a thought slipped into his mind and he reached into his pocket.
"For you" he told her, presenting a small piece of paper with two signatures under several lines of writing which had asked for parents' permission to allow him to help out.
"Ah wonderful!" she replied as she skimmed over it before tucking it into her own pocket "now we can really begin. I know I briefly outlined what we aim to do here, but I'm sure you would like to know exactly what you have gotten yourself in to."
Carlos nodded agreeing, eyes darting back to the small boy who had crumpled the piece of paper he had been writing on previously into a small ball beside him and was now working on another.
"Ok, so here we have a small group, ten children who regularly come to each session in order to get extra support where they need it. They vary in both ages and ability so donot be surprised if you have a younger child who is more able than an older one. For the more able students we provide a task to complete each session, such as writing a story, creating a poem or writing different sentence types. They might have a shopping list and have to read the items and then get them from around the class. You get the picture."
Carlos nodded again, listening intently.
"There are a few children who aren't as confident and struggle more, and for those children we tailor a specific program for them so that they are enabled to progress, but at their own pace and their own level" she paused, letting it all soak in, watching as Carlos' attention drifted to the small boy in the corner. "The boy over there, Logan, he is one of these students with a tailored plan. He finds lots of parts of both writing and reading very hard because believe it or not, he only picked up a pen a few months ago."
Carlos gasped, eyes widening, showing the whites broken up by tiny blood vessels. "How is that so?" he asked.
Miss Morgan smiled sympathetically at the small boy who seemed to be trying to block out everyone else around him – even though he was the only other person in the room apart from the two of them.
"He's had a hard life" she started simply "and I'm only telling you this because for safety reasons you need to know the history of every child in this room, but Logan's father wasn't nice to him at all. He despised having a child after Logan's mother died just after Logan turned 3, around the time he would have started his basic learning." Her expression turned to one of disgust, something he had never seen from his English teacher.
"He didn't abuse him physically, but Logan's spent his life locked away in a bare room with only his own voice and a tray of occasional food for company, which as you can imagine is very demoralising and wrong on so many levels."
Carlos couldn't imagine not seeing anything but the same four walls day in and day out, only ever hearing himself or the footsteps of a cold-hearted father bringing him food. Not seeing any of the outside world or experiencing anything but the inside of a room. He would go stir crazy and definitely wouldn't be able to cope.
"Gosh" he brought the back of his arm across his eyes to stop the droplets glistening within from falling. "How old is he?" he asked as he watched Logan shrink even more into the table if possible as the other children started piling into the classroom.
"He's 10, in the fourth grade but as it stands he might not be able to move up into the next grade with the rest of his class at the end of the academic year because of where his literary skills are at. Not to mention his mental state. Logan is a really sweet boy, but he just lacks confidence because of that awful father. Luckily he's with loving parents now who take good care of him and they have two other adopted children as well. They've taught him about everything, things such as a car or a TV he's never seen before, and he soaks up all the new knowledge and care like a sponge. He can't get enough. That's why we have found that he does really well with encouragement and gentle coaxing. He's just a poster boy for why we run this club."
Carlos took a deep breath. "Can I...umm if you don't mind...I mean you might not be allowed to and it's your decision-"
"Yes, Carlos?" She asked, smiling in a knowing way.
"Can I try to work with him? I mean I have sisters around his age and even without hearing about the other kids I can tell he needs more support than them. I can imagine it's hard getting round to everyone with so little staff." He said as two other teachers entered the room.
Miss Morgan sighed and nodded, agreeing with the observation "we have asked for more but they won't be drafted in until after the Christmas break. It is hard." She looked to Logan again quickly "and yes, I think that you working with Logan just might work. You're well-natured and have a good heart, you seem able to handle him. He might be a bit closed off at first but he should come out of his shell if you keep trying for a while. I believe you'll do a fine job with him."
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Carlos rung his hands, sweaty and warm against each other. He wiped them on his jeans and took a deep breath before proceeding over to he far table that Logan had situated himself on. Getting nearer, Carlos could see some of the features the boy possessed more clearly, like how his dark-brown hair spiked up out of its own accord and how his feet turned inwards with the hunched way that he sat.
Just as Carlos stopped by him, he noticed five balls of wadded paper, screwed up and tossed to the side uncoordinatedly. He watched silently as the fourth grader sighed frustratedly, deep and sharp, before crumpling the piece of paper he was currently working on; this one received the same treatment as the others and soon found itself in the small heap.
"Hey" Carlos greeted, pulling up a chair. The table Logan was on was small. Two desks had been placed together so that they made an L shape. Carlos placed himself on the corner where the two desks met so that he was close but not next to the boy so he was not intruding on his personal space.
He received no response, not even a glance upwards from what he was doing. He tried a different tactic. "I see you got here before everyone else. Guess you're really eager to learn, huh?"
The boy didn't look at him again, just continued with slowly printing something with his pen on the top of the paper. Slowly.
"I think it's good to be early, shows you want to get better." He commented again.
"The only reason I come here early is because it takes me so long to write my name on the paper properly that by the time I'm done, the other kids are here anyway." A pointed voice told him matter-of-factly. His voice held an uneasy edge that implied he didn't want Carlos there at all. Carlos' plan had backfired, but he wasn't going to give up and go like the kid wanted.
"Do you like writing then?"
He got a grunt. "I would if I could do it better."
"Well you want to get better though?"
Again, Logan didn't bigger to waste any energy on looking up at him "that's why I'm here isn't it? Duh."
Carlos inwardly sighed and sat there, wondering what he could do to make this easier.
He studied Logan some more, how he was holding his pen awkwardly, but with more awkwardness than would be brought with only having started writing a few months ago. It didn't look comfortable and kept dragging slightly. As the seventh ball of paper joined it's friends on the pile, Carlos twigged what was wrong.
"You know" he started "some people are ambidextrous, you know what that means?" When silence was his only reply he carried on despite the uncomfortableness of sounding like he was talking to himself. "It means they can use both hands, both equally as good. Not only for writing though, for drawing, holding things, eating with knives and forks even. I'm not ambidextrous though, most people aren't. I'm right-handed, my left is useless when it comes to writing."
He paused for a moment it see if any reply would be offered, but nothing yet. Just the slight flicker of eyes glancing upwards in his direction for a brief second. It was progress, he guessed.
"And you're also using your right hand as well...but it doesn't look very comfortable. See, I bet if you swapped hands it would be a lot better. I think you're left-handed."
Logan abruptly stopped what he was doing and looked up at Carlos, giving the teenager his full attention for the first time. Bingo.
"Really?" He whispered, hands flexing like he wanted to try it out.
"Well, I'm no expert, but you use your left hand to crumple the paper and toss it aside, meaning that's your dominant hand. Try it."
Logan transferred the pen from his right hand to the left, not minding when Carlos repositioned his fingers carefully. Again, he slowly wrote out his name on the paper and even though the pen was wobbling slightly, it didn't drag like the last time, which Carlos thought to be a breakthrough.
"Wow" Logan whispered, more to himself than anyone else, but then..."it's still wrong, though."
Carlos knew that Logan was miserably referencing to the 'L' and 'a' in his name that he had written the wrong way around.
"That's ok" Carlos replied carefully "you just need some practice is all. Try and remember that both the 'L' and the 'a' have tails leading to the next letter, yeah? Try again."
Logan seemed encouraged by Carlos' advice and this time wrote the 'L' the right way around. He looked at Carlos for approval and moved on when he received a smile and a nod in response. He carefully wrote the 'o' and the 'g' - though Carlos thought that letter might need some working on because Logan seemed to hesitate, writing little 'p's and 'q's in the margin to test out if it was the correct letter before deciding on the 'g' - and then came to a stop at the 'a'.
Carlos gently reminded "so does the next letter have a tail?" Logan nodded "so which way does it go?"
Logan didn't hesitate to point to the right before filling out the 'a' in the correct way and finishing with the 'n'.
"Well done, buddy!" Carlos cheered because he was generally pleased and seeing the giant grin on Logan's face made it all the better.
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"Right!" Carlos announced after Logan had practiced writing his name a few more times and he slid a timetable over to the boy from where it had been resting near Logan "this says that we are going to go over how we write the alphabet letters quickly and then focus on some reading today."
He said this cheerfully but it didn't stop the groan of displeasure that escaped Logan's mouth or the boy from burying his face into his hands.
"Hey, it's not that bad" Carlos tried, thinking the groan was one signalling lack of enthusiasm.
"I know, but I suck at reading the most, I can't even get past the first level books and everyone else in my class is on at least level 9!" Logan wailed in utter despair.
Carlos trod carefully "well...the whole reason you're here is to get better. I mean, when I was your age I had to come to one of these sessions each week for Math because I couldn't get it and eventually it worked for me and I didn't have to come any more. The whole point is to find ways to help you remember things in your own way. And we can find that. Try to think positively and it's more likely you'll get farther. Come on."
Logan sniffed but his hands came down and he nodded, pulling up his chair so that he was closer to the table and to get ready to work.
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"The tail goes to the next…next letter…that means the 'd' is…next letter is...that way…" Logan mumbled as he wrote the small 'd' next to the capital beside it.
"Good remembering, buddy" Carlos praised, loving when Logan smiled at getting it right. The 'e' was no problem, but just as Logan was writing the 'f'..."ah...see the 'f' is tricky letter. Even though it has a tail it doesn't follow the rule unless it's joined up, but we will focus on unjoined for now."
Logan looked as if the whole world had fallen and come down on him at once but Carlos carried on.
"I'll teach you a way to remember it. 'F' is the first letter in the word false, meaning not true. So if the rule is that tails lead to the next letter and 'f' is false, that means?" He left the sentence open for Logan, who's head bobbed in understanding, to finish.
"It doesn't follow the rule, the tail goes behind it" he tapped his pen next to the perfectly written letter 'f' on the page. He beamed "thanks Carlos!" And Carlos beamed back.
"Now you just have to learn the other letters that are a part of the false group and you'll be sorted. Now, do you want to go over those 'g's, 'p's and 'q's?" He asked, happily surprised as rather than sighing or shaking his head, Logan nodded eagerly "alright then!"
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"Ok guys, that's our time up for today, well done for all your hard work. Let's all pack up our things and line up at the door" was the call from Miss Morgan to the whole class around forty minutes later.
Carlos closed the small 'easy-reader' book and smiled at Logan.
"Good work today, buddy, I'm really impressed. Go and line up and wait whilst I talk to Miss Morgan" he watched as the boy happily bounded up and out of his seat with his schoolbag and joined the end of the line.
After the alphabet, Carlos had listened to Logan read. Even though Logan was right about his reading skill compared to his writing skill - the reading being a lot less developed - he saw potential for Logan to improve rapidly, he just needed practice and he was pretty sure they could work on that in other sessions.
He walked over to the teacher who was putting away a set of pens into her bag.
"I see things went ok with Logan; when I looked over there he had a big smile on his face" she commented as he neared.
"Yeah he's a great kid, a bit closed off at first but I managed to break the ice" at Miss Morgan's querying look that clearly urged him to tell he added "he was holding his pen in the wrong hand...after that he was just more open towards me, I guess because I made a difference to his writing."
"Oh I am so glad you got through to him. I could see you'd be good for him from the moment you said yes to doing this extra credit. Hopefully things will start improving from here."
She walked towards the line of waiting children, Carlos following, and opened the door to the outside, seeing a group of parents and guardians waiting in the cold.
"I'll see you all on Wednesday" she exclaimed as she let the children run up to the people picking them up. Carlos waved as Logan passed him with a wave if his own and a smile and smiled himself. The little 10-year-old had certainly made an impression on him.
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Over the next few weeks Carlos and Logan worked relentlessly in the sessions after school, finding different techniques that worked for the fourth grader in order to help him to remember the different components to writing and reading.
He definitely was determined, Carlos had noticed that right from the word go, but Logan let him into how he would go home each night and practice with his new parents for about half an hour, not because he was made to, but because he wanted to. He told of how when his two adopted sisters came home from high school they would let him try to read their homework assignments and even let him write their names on the top of their sheets.
Carlos had met all of Logan's new family more than a few times whilst he had been helping Logan for many weeks at the Extra English group and couldn't have imagined anyone better for Logan to have gotten to lead him back to a normal life and teach him everything he hadn't learnt with his real father.
Daniel was a very well-known man around town, a counsellor who helped young people with all sorts of problems and tried to make them feel better. He was softly spoken and had gentle features which welcomed anyone to come and talk to him. Carlos had been able to strike up a conversation many times with ease, all whilst the man had been carefully watching out to make sure Logan was ok whilst they did.
His wife Carolina owned her own little coffee shop on the outskirts of the town centre. She was driven and extremely smart but when it came to her family she would drop anything to help them out. She was what a good mother should be. Kind, caring and warm. She always had a smile on her face.
Carolina had suffered several miscarriages before being told she couldn't have any babies naturally. Of course the couple had been devastated at first, but had then decided to make a family of their own, even if they weren't biologically related. It didn't matter to them at all.
Beth and Emily were teenaged girls who you would think wouldn't have time to help a little boy learn to read and write but they surprised Carlos the very first time they entered the classroom together, when the parents weren't able to pick Logan up, and allowed Logan to show them all the work he had completed and even give them a tour of the place he worked in.
Carlos knew that Logan would soon be writing and reading like he wanted to and he couldn't have been more happy that he had a part to play in making that happen.
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A knock on the door rose Carlos from his seat in front of the television one Saturday in December, only a few weeks until Christmas. They had almost broken up for the holidays and report cards had gone out that week, however his had been lost in the filing system apparently and so he had to wait until they could put another together for him.
As he opened the door a cheerful voice greeted him and he looked down to see Logan dressed in his thick winter coat with a small beanie on his head. He clutched a brown envelope in his gloved hands. Behind him, a little way down the drive stood Daniel, smiling warmly. His attention was averted back to Logan as he began speaking.
"This is for you!" He squealed happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Carlos accepted the envelope.
Carlos had no idea what it was but proceeded to tear the seal as Logan continued to jiggle around in front of him. Carefully tipping out the contents of the envelope revealed another, smaller red envelope and a card. More specifically, a report card.
His report card.
"Miss Morgan told me she had sorted it out so that you didn't get your report card with the others because I told her I wanted to give it to you, for your extra credit or whatever it was for helping me out. The school and your parents agreed, so here we are! Well done, Carlos!"
Carlos glanced down, skipping over the other subjects, though he noticed that they weren't bad grades. His breath hitched when he saw the grade he was received from his English teacher. A B+.
"Oh my goodness. Logan, thank you" he couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling. The relief, the happiness.
"It was all you, really. Um...do you want to open the other one now?" The hopeful tone in the boy's voice was too hard to ignore and after putting the report card in his pocket, he turned to the small red envelope.
After opening he noticed what it was. A Christmas card.
He opened it and was met with a messy scrawl that had just started to join up. Logan's writing. Carlos felt tears in his eyes.
"Can I read it to you? I know I wrote it but I've forgotten what it says so I won't be doing it from memory, honest!"
Carlos bent down to Logan's level and let him read the card to him.
"Dear Carlos, thank you...for help-helping me to...le-learn to read and to write. It has...real-really really helped me. You are a...a...great...tee-tea-teacher and I am glad you got your...es-ex-extra cre-credit. Merry Christmas and a happy new year! Love Logan."
Carlos couldn't believe his own ears. What he was hearing, Logan reading, he had helped him to do that. Logan had progressed and managed to write and read this own his own. It was the best Christmas card he had ever gotten.
"Thank you, Logan, and well done to you too, buddy. You did it."
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