Ch.3
~ Nick
"Yo, Kontellis!"
I was strolling down King St when Tim Warne called out to me. Tim's not a bad guy, he's not a total loser and he's not a conceited ass; he doesn't do better than me in class, but he's not a moron either. I guess you'd say he's just one of those average guys that fade into the background. He caught up with me in a few easy strides – he's a tall guy, Tim.
"Where you headed?" he asked, pulling a bottle of Coke from his bag and taking a swig. He didn't offer me any, that's just not how they do things at St. Johns.
"Work," I said, making sure to show how much I didn't want to be working when summer had officially started
I work with my father, learning the ins and outs of importing, exporting, and making a fortune. I work three hours after school every day, since dad's company is a convenient five minute walk from my inner-city school.
"Dude, that sucks," he laughed, slapping my shoulder, "anyway man, I meant to ask today in math but ol' Gordon was being a real dragon, eh. Do you live in Raven Hill? I heard from Jack Bass that you do"
"Yeah man, why?" I could understand why he was asking, not many St. John's boys live in the suburbs. They're more expensive-beach-front-property types.
"Oh there's apparently some massive party out that way tonight, me and the guys were gonna see if you were going?"
I'd actually only heard about the party the day before, a guy on the Raven Hill bus had been talking about it. Some Raven Hill High kid called James or something.
"Nah, I'm working," I sighed, and it was true. By the time dad and I got home from the office it was time for dinner, then bed.
"Shit dude, that's the pits," he hitched his bad further up his shoulders and handed me his cell phone, "but put your number in here, yeah? I'll give you a ring if we rock up and if you're around we'll swing by your place"
I nodded, typing in my phone number.
"See ya around man," he grinned, and turned back towards the station
I plodded on, suddenly getting angrier and angrier. I couldn't go to a party with people my own age because I was too busy being forced to act like an adult. But I knew what my father would say,
"You are almost an adult Nicholas, in a few years you will be working here all of the time; you need to be here learning, not acting like a child. You will thank me one day Nicko"
I fumed silently as I swiped my employee access card at the door and raised one finger at the smiling receptionist. Maybe I'm sick of imports and exports, of my father's serious face explaining what is important, of seeing what my life will be like for the next forty years if I don't do something about it, and worse, I'm already living it.
The elevator dinged softly and I stepped out on the thirty-sixth floor. My father was on the phone, nodding, smiling and talking as confidently as a used car salesman.
"...yes Mr. Stone, absolutely...yes, by next Thursday at the latest...of course...yes, a pleasure speaking with you also...goodbye," he clicked the receiver down and looked up at me, "Nicholas! How was school?"
I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out my report card, tossing it gently on his desk, "pretty good"
His eyes slid over the paper, and he nodded slightly. He damn-well should have been nodding, hell, with the sheet of straight A's and praise I'd given him he should have been celebrating.
"Very good Nicko," he smiled, "how about, to celebrate, you and me take off early, your mother will be wanting to celebrate also"
I shifted from one foot to the other, "actually, dad, I was going to ask if I could have today off..."
His face changed, but I kept going, "it's the last day of term and a friend of mine is having some friends over, I was hoping I could go?"
The silence stretched on so long that I almost caved and told him not to worry about it, but finally he spoke, folding the paper in his hands and avoiding my eyes.
"Nicholas, in the real world, you do not get to just 'have a day off' because you are celebrating," his voice was stern and I felt myself staring at my feet, "however, this report is very good, Nicko, and for that, you may go. But know that this is a onetime deal, and I do not want you asking every week"
His face was serious and I nodded shortly, turning around just in time to hide the uncontrollable ear to ear smile. I walked slowly to the lift, and made sure to keep my pace even across the reception area; but the moment the doors to the building shut behind me I pretty much ran to the train station, feeling younger than I had in months.
