Chapter 17 - Gratitude

Jon was able to get back to the school in time to relieve his sub by third period. He told Shawn they would talk more after school.

The truth was, he was beyond sick of punishing the kid. Shawn had been with him for a little over two months. For the first few weeks, it had been all Jon could do to keep Shawn from running away altogether. Since they'd come to an understanding, Shawn had been grounded for a week for drinking, two weeks for being out after curfew and going to Cleaváge, and then for another two days for mouthing off to Ms. Pierre. And now he had lied, yet another grounding offense. Alan was always talking about how important consistency was, especially for someone like Shawn, but Jon just felt like he was constantly at odds with Hunter. The kid was grounded more often than he wasn't.

Of course, letting his actions go unpunished sent the wrong message altogether. It was like telling Shawn outright that his actions weren't serious and didn't have consequences, and that lying was OK as long as he wore down Jon enough first. Jon might as well announce to the kid's face that he had given up on him. At the same time, Jon just wasn't sure whether grounding was even working.

Well, on some level, maybe it was. Shawn hadn't technically repeated the same mistake over again after being punished for it. Then again, he'd hardly had the time.

Jon had planned to head to Shawn's last class of the day as soon as the bell rang to make sure he didn't try to go anywhere, but Feeny met him at the door. "Jonathan. Do you have a minute?"

"I was going to find Shawn…"

"He's down in the office."

Jon blinked a couple of times. "What happened?"

"He skipped science class. Again."

"Again?"

Feeny sighed. "I sent him home with a note for you to sign. I'm guessing that never made it to you."

Jon's blood started heating up. Shawn hadn't just been lying this morning; he had been lying all week. "The last note I got was from his science teacher, telling me he talked back to her."

"And that was Monday?"

"Yeah. Monday."

"I assume you followed up with consequences at home?"

"Grounded him for a couple of days, yeah."

"He hasn't been to her class since."

Jon just stared in disbelief. Apparently his words about the make up test being harder had gone in one ear and out the other. "I'm sorry, George. This won't happen again."

Feeny gave him a sad smile. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Jonathan. I'm sure he'll skip class again before he graduates. But if you could find out what's going on…"

"Of course. Has he skipped any other classes?"

"The first couple of periods today, but we got your call about that."

"I'll talk to him. Believe me." Jon could feel his jaw starting to tighten.

"We didn't issue any detentions. We're not hosting them next week, since we only have school on Monday and Tuesday."

It took Jon a second to figure out what he was talking about. He had almost forgotten that next week was Thanksgiving.

"However, any support you need, I'm happy to give. For what it's worth, I've seen him make improvements in my class."

"Thanks, George. I'll find out what's going on."

Feeny nodded. "You're both lucky to have each other."

"I guess."

"I mean it, Jonathan. You know I was opposed to this arrangement at first, but to see a young man grow and mature so much in a such a short period of time..."

"I'm not sure how much he's matured since his dad left him."

Feeny raised his eyebrows. "I was talking about you, Jonathan."

Jon let himself smile just slightly. "Thanks, George," he said.

Jon followed Feeny out of his classroom and down to the office. Any uncertainty he'd been feeling about punishing Shawn again had burned away.

Jon found Shawn sitting outside the office on a hard folding chair. He was stupid enough to give Jon a smile and a wave as he stopped toward him. "Hey, Jon."

"Get up. We're going home."

His smile faded. "I'm sorry—"

"Not another word. We'll talk when we get back."

Shawn swallowed, slung his backpack onto his back, and followed Jon out to the car.

Shawn tried again, a couple of times, to speak on the drive home. Jon shut him down. He couldn't be getting into a shouting match behind the wheel. That was a recipe for a car accident.

Shawn stayed a few steps behind Jon on the way up the stairs. Jon wasn't exactly patient. When Shawn lagged at the door, he grabbed him by the arm and pushed him into the apartment, then slammed the door.

"Whoa," Shawn said, straightening his jacket. "Calm down, man."

Jon slammed down his motorcycle helmet. "What were you thinking, Hunter?"

Shawn dropped his backpack on the couch. "Look, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry. Sorry for what?" Jon threw his bag on the table and stalked toward Shawn. "Lying to me this morning, trying to skip school today? Or hiding notes from me all week? Feeny says you haven't been in science class since you mouthed off to your teacher."

Shawn had been looking repentant, but at that last accusation, he just rolled his eyes.

"Explain to me where I went wrong. 'Cause I thought I made the rules pretty clear."

"This has nothing to do with you."

"Excuse me?"

Shawn stuck his chin out, taking a step closer to Jon. "What do you think is going to happen here, Jon? Do you think you're going to magically transform me into a good student in the next few months before I go back to my dad? Do you think I'm going to college?"

"I think you're smart enough to."

"Foster kids don't go to college, Jon. Do you know what the odds are I get out of all this without being homeless? Without going to prison?"

"Hunter, where is all this coming from?"

Shawn just looked away.

"Hey. Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Shawn glared at him. "Just get it over with, would you?"

"Get what over with?"

"Ground me or whatever. That's what you do, right?"

Jon's voice caught. "Hunter, do you think I like grounding you? You realize I'm grounded the whole time you are?"

"Right. Just another way I'm ruining your life."

"You know that's not true. Look, I don't know what else to do. I've tried to be there for you, I've spent time with you, I've told you over and over how much I care about you—"

"What? Am I supposed to be grateful?"

The words were like a punch to the gut. "I'm doing everything I can, kid. I'm not asking for much. What do you want from me?"

Shawn scoffed. "I knew it," he muttered. "You're the same as everyone else."

"What are you talking about?"

Shawn stomped over to his backpack and took out the notepad he'd been using for journaling. He flipped through the tattered pages, ripped one of them out, and threw it at Jon. Then he stormed out of the room, running up the stairs and slamming his door.

Jon had half a mind to run up there and yell at him some more for slamming the door, which he had made his feelings clear on during that first year they spent together. But Shawn had never shown him any of his journaling. Curiosity won. He picked up the page.

It took him a moment to decipher. Shawn's handwriting was really bad. But as he made out the words, his heart sank further and further.

Cory says Jon is trying to help me. Mr. Feeny says I should show him some respect since he's responsable for me now. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews say their happy for me that I have a safe home and enough food. Ms. Pierre says I'm lucky. She says Jon didn't have to take me into his home much less care for me but he rearanged his whole life around me. She said I'd probably end up homeless or in jail without him. Everyone thinks I should be grateful.

You know who should be grateful? Cory. His real parents cared about him his whole life. He ALWAYS had food and clothes and money for summer camp and help with his homework. But nobody tells him how grateful he should be.

I'm not grateful. Maybe that makes me a bad person but I can't force myself to be thankful when everything sucks. Everyone thinks Jon is a great guy for taking me in and I don't deserve him.

I DIDN'T ASK JON TO TAKE ME IN. I JUST WANT TO GO HOME.

Jon read the entry three times before sinking down into a chair at the kitchen table and setting the paper down in front of himself, burying his forehead in his hand. Shawn was right. Jon hadn't been listening. He hadn't even tried to listen.

Slowly, Jon stood, then he made his way up the stairs. He knocked on Shawn's door, and when he heard nothing, he stepped inside.

Shawn was lying on his stomach on the bed, putting a cassette into his Walkman. He didn't even look up. "Could you please just tell me my punishment and leave me alone?"

"Sit up."

Shawn rolled his eyes and obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Jon sat beside him, looking down at his hands. He had no idea what to say. He wanted to tell Shawn he was wrong, that he wasn't the only one who everyone told to be grateful in bad circumstances. He wanted to tell him that Ms. Pierre was wrong, that she should never have spoken to him like that. He wanted to say he himself was wrong, for not listening to Shawn when it really mattered.

But all he could get out was, "You deserve someone a lot better than me, Hunter."

Shawn didn't say anything, but out of the corner of his eye, Jon could see his muscles relaxing.

"I'm sorry I grounded you without finding out what was going on with you and Pierre. I'll have a word with her, and with Feeny."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

Shawn shifted his weight.

"Why'd you lie to me, Shawn? You knew I'd find out."

"Sometimes I just get...so angry."

"With me?"

"Sometimes, but sometimes it's just… everything. My whole life, man. And I don't know what to do. So I end up running away or drinking or skipping class, only then you come and make my life even worse." He shook his head. "That came out wrong."

"No, Shawn, I don't think it did." Somehow, though, Jon understood. Shawn acted out because he didn't know how to cope with all the pain and anger and frustration in his life, but then the consequences were painful and frustrating, too. He couldn't blame Shawn for feeling like he was in a never ending vicious cycle, that bad things never stopped happening to him.

Jon nodded. "You still got that notepad?"

"Downstairs."

"I want you to start a new page. Write me a list of things you can do when you get angry. And a list of people you can call if you need to talk with someone."

"Gonna make me wait til I'm done to tell me how long I'm grounded?"

"Do a good job and you won't be."

"Seriously?"

"Don't get used to that."

Shawn smiled and headed out of the room.

Jon went down to start on dinner, and Shawn settled on the couch with his notepad.

A half an hour later, Jon was putting dinner into the oven, and Shawn tore out the page he was writing on.

Jon leaned against the counter and accepted the paper. Shawn put his head down, and Jon read.

People I can talk to if I need help

Cory

Mr. Matthews

Mrs. Matthews

Topanga

Mr. Feeny

Dr. Jane

Things I can do

Write what I am thinking/feeling

The list ended there.

"One thing? That's it?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do?"

Jon looked down at the list again. He knew that for himself, a long kickboxing session or an evening with a good book did wonders to settle his mind. He doubted Shawn would have any interest in those, though. "I don't know, Hunter, I guess it's different for everybody. What's something you enjoy?"

Shawn shrugged. "I like hanging out with Cory."

"Yeah? What's something you like to do with him?"

"I dunno. Watch TV? Play basketball?"

"Exercise is good," Jon said. "What's something you like to do alone?"

"Uh...I kinda like reading. But not school books."

"Comic books?"

Shawn shrugged again.

"I got a ton stored away in my room."

"Really?"

"I'll let you borrow any of 'em."

"OK." The hints of a smile crept across his face.

Jon looked at the paper again. "I'm not on your list of people you can talk to."

"Oh."

"Shawn, I don't expect you to tell me everything, but if there's something bothering you, or if I'm doing something that's upsetting you, and it's making you want to break the rules… I really, really hope you'll come talk to me."

He scoffed. "Jon, you've got your own stuff going on."

"Hey. If I'm willing to ground myself every time you need to be grounded, don't you think I'd be happy to take a few minutes to talk when you need it so that neither of us have to go through that?"

Shawn half laughed.

Jon handed back the notepad. "Go add those things to the list, then you can watch TV if you want."

"Thanks, Jon." He went to sit on the couch and started writing.

Jon started putting away the ingredients from dinner.

After a few minutes, Shawn looked back at him. "I can ask you about things, right?"

"Of course."

"Like if I don't understand one of the rules?"

"Well, we can talk about it, but I probably won't change my mind."

"Lying. It's disrespectful, right?"

Jon blinked. "Yeah, it is. It breaks down trust."

"And I'm supposed to be respectful to women, right?"

"Yeah…"

"But like, if I'm going out with a girl, I can lie to her about why I have to cancel a date or something, right?"

"Uh." Jon had no idea where this was coming from. "I mean. If you need to soften the truth a little so you don't hurt her feelings as much, I guess that's OK, but I don't want you outright lying."

"What about when you lie to Debra?"

Jon's breath caught in his throat. There was no malice in Shawn's voice; he really wasn't trying to trap him. He wanted to know what was going to get him into trouble and what wasn't. "That's different."

"How is it different?"

He breathed in to explain, but found himself at a loss for words. Finally, he let out his breath. "I dunno. I guess I'm breaking the rules."

Shawn shrugged. "I guess sometimes the rules are different for adults."

Jon looked down. He didn't want Shawn to grow up thinking what Jon was doing was okay. "Not this time."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm gonna stop lying to Debra."

"What are you going to do?"

"Honestly? I think I'm gonna break up with her." He went over to grab the phone.

Shawn got up from the couch. He took Jon's place at the counter while Jon dialed.

Debra picked up after the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, Debra."

"Jon! I've been thinking about you since Monday."

This was going to be really hard. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, I wish you'd stayed."

"Ah. Me too." Now, he would never get the chance.

"I was thinking maybe this weekend we could get away somewhere."

"Hey, listen, about that. I haven't been totally honest with you about why I couldn't stay, and why I was away for two weeks."

A short pause. "I'm listening."

"Uh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've got a kid."

She gasped. "A kid, Jon?"

"Yeah—"

"All this time, I'm wondering what's wrong with me, why I can't get you to come home with me no matter what I do, why you never invite me to your place, and all along, you've got a baby at home?"

"Actually, he's 16."

"You've got a teenager? What, did you get a girl pregnant in high school?"

"He's not mine, Debra. I'm his foster dad."

"Oh." An awkward silence. "So, you could send him back, right?"

Jon's pulse pounded in his ears. Who did she think she was? His voice rose to a yell. "Let's get one thing straight, sweetheart. I love this kid more than anything. More than life itself."

Debra let out a short, angry laugh, and she hung up.

Jon slammed down the phone. "Piece of work, that one." He was glad she hadn't been on speaker.

Slowly, he looked up to find Shawn staring at him.

Shawn cleared his throat, taking a step closer. "Weren't you gonna break up with her?"

"Didn't get a chance. She broke up with me. And lemme tell you, I dodged a bullet."

"Right." Shawn nodded, looking down, then he looked back up at Jon. "Thought you were gonna stop lying to women."

Jon took a step closer. "I wasn't lying, Shawn."

"Really?"

"Meant every word."

Shawn blinked a few times, but his eyes became shiny anyway.

"Come here," Jon said, holding an arm out, reaching for the kid's shoulder. He needed to look Shawn in the eyes and remind him he wasn't expected to say it back.

But Shawn took the open arm as an invitation. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jon's waist.

Jon didn't let his surprise show. He could feel by the tightness of Shawn's grip that this was what he needed.

Well, maybe Jon needed it, too. He let out his breath and held Shawn firmly, feeling the kid melt into him. His fingers dug into the back of his jacket, pulling him in closer, and his cheek rested in Shawn's hair.