The wind blew the curly black hair into John Laurens' face. He was used to it and ignored the strands getting tossed this way and that. He checked his watch. I'm making good time. He couldn't be late to pick up Martha again. Kindergarten through 2nd grade got dismissed first, so it was her that he was worried about. If only Dad would help me buy a car. But no, that's a waste of money! Even though he spends money on stupid shit- John calm down. He realized he was clenching his fists and unfurled his fingers, pulling them out of his pockets and stretching them. Do not get angry at him now. Nothing I do can change him, just piss him off. Then, I never get my car. John took a deep breath.

He started humming. A jazz song. The lyrics ran through his head as he walked along. Sure enough, he arrived at the public elementary school as her second grade class walked out of the building. He let out a sigh of relief.

He saw her pigtail braids bouncing and she skipped along, orange (because pink was too girly of a color and she was not girly) backpack bouncing with her. "Mattie!"

She turned, one braid hitting the side of her face. Her grin widened. "Johnny!" She ran to him. She was still small enough for him to lift her up into a hug.

"How was your day, Mat?" He asked her, placing her back down on the cement.

"I passed my spelling test!" She cheered. "I only got one word wrong!" Her grin was gap-toothed but genuine. I don't remember her mentioning having a spelling test today.

"What word?" He asked as he crouched down to her level.

"Diff-i-cult." She sounded it out. "I put one 'f' but there's two. That's mean. It only sounds like one."

"Didn't you study?" John asked, "I know you, of all people, would notice something unjust like that." He exaggerated.

"I didn't know it. I was the only one to take it. So that means I'm special!"

"Mat-" he began to ask.

"John, I presume. May I speak with you? It will just take a minute." He looked at the woman standing behind Martha and stood up slowly. "Please?"

"Hey, Martha, do you want to play on the playground for a few minutes? I'll be right back out. I'll take your backpack."

"Okay! I'm gonna try to finish the monkey bars!" She explained as she shrugged off the orange bag.

"Just remember, don't stop moving, but if you think you're going to fall-" he started to advise.

"Jump off so I don't get hurt, I know. You're such a worrywart." She rolled her eyes.

"Go." He laughed. She ran off to where he remember playing when he was younger. He had about five minutes until the fourth and fifth graders came out, and that's when he had to get Henry and James, so he immediately turned back to the young woman.

She stuck out her hand. "I'm Miss Black."

"Mat's teacher. She talks about you a lot."

"All positive, I hope." Miss Black chuckled. "Look, maybe we should step inside for this." She led the way into the school. She was young, probably in her mid-20s, and clearly unmarried. She was good looking, with her light blonde hair pulled into a styled ponytail. "This is my classroom." She moved her hand in a directed fashion, so John headed inside.

"I'm assuming this is about Mat. And that test today."

"She told you? Oh, of course she did. I know that not every student in this school has a reliable set of parents, and she talks about you like you're the best she has, so I have to ask-"

"Our mother died a week after Mat was born. Our father is a bit- scatter brained at times, but he's a reliable guardian." No he's not. That's a lie and you know it.

"Okay. Would you have the authority to make a decision about her education or should I schedule a meeting with him?"

"You can talk to me as you would talk to him."

He watched as she flattened the front of her navy blue skirt with her hands. "I've been giving Martha some tests, and these are third and fourth grade tests, and she does incredibly well on them, naturally. She absorbs information like a sponge, and reads three years above her year. I would like to get her transferred to third grade, which is just across the hall. Mrs. Reynolds, one of the third grade teachers, and Mr. Samuels, the principal, agree wholeheartedly that she should be academically challenged."

"That's great!"

"I agree, but we'd need forms signed by a guardian. Legally, can you sign?" She asked him anxiously.

"No, but I can get our father to sign them. May I have the paperwork?"

Miss Black smiled widely. "Yes, you can. Let me just grab them." She walked over to her desk and opened a drawer, before pulling a stapled pack of paper out. "I just need these before the 16th, so your dad has two weeks to sign. I want her to start the next quarter in third grade, and start catching her up now. I only need spoken permission from family that I can start giving her third grade materials." Miss Black handed him the packet.

"Start catching her up. I would hate for her to be behind her new classmates." He smiled.

"Martha's a great student, and I'm glad she's got such a great role model. You should know, when we do projects in class about role models and people the students admire, she always chooses you."

"Thanks for telling me. I'll get these back to you as soon as I can." The bell rang. "Perfect timing." He commented.

"Thank you, John. May I call you John?"

"Yeah. I've got to go get Martha."

"And your brothers?"

"How'd you know about them?"

"We're all in the same school, John. Teachers talk. Martha's much better behaved than the 'devil duo.'" She laughed.

"Why does that not surprise me." He commented dryly. "Well, yes. Them too. Nice meeting you, Miss Black."

"And you, John."

He walked out of the school, and stopped by the fifth grade dismissal area. "Henry, James." He raised his voice slightly. They turned and walked over, stopping at every possible chance to talk to their friends. John rolled his eyes. "I'm not leaving without you." When they finally moseyed over the group of brothers went to get Martha from the monkey bars, and they walked home.

The twins skipped ahead to be 'cool,' leaving Martha with her older brother. "Will you give me a piggyback ride? Just for a little while?" She begged.

John sighed dramatically but grinned at her. "Alright." And he crouched down, and she clambered aboard his shoulders, on top of his backpack. And that's how they walked, all the way home and down their driveway.