# 100 Days



## NeryLibra

So I used to be an avid writer; I used to compete in story contests, draft novels on a regular basis and think constantly about stories. Then, I got self conscious; I thoroughly believed everything I wrote was garbage, I deleted every, single story (some having well over 50,000 words.) I shredded journal after journal of my literature in real life. I put the pen down, started dating a guy who I now have a restraining order against, and never really looked back. Sure, I dabbled. But never again considered creating another universe of my own. Until recently.

I was looking at the mustangs up for adoption on the BLM site, and one of the young'uns, a beautiful bay 2 year old, really caught my attention and imagination. The following is the product of that image of that one horse. I'm still self conscious, I still think it sucks. But maybe if I post it here, I'll be able to finish it. And who knows? Maybe I'll be able to start writing stories again. So feel free to critique, and I do hope you get a little enjoyment of it.

Without further ado, here it is. If I can finish it, I promise it will eventually have horses. Just not in the first three days we get to glimpse of Lyra's life.

---

Lyra groaned as her phone vibrated in her pocket again – the third time in a row now. She wasn’t where she was supposed to be. She knew it, her teachers knew it. They didn’t have to be so nosy or keep pretending like they cared about her. She knew better. Besides, what did it matter to them if she was getting a tattoo? In their eyes she was just some stupid kid who was cutting class. It wasn’t like they were really concerned. She looked around the street, wondering just where the bus had dropped them off. This side of down-town seemed old, and kind of dirty. She couldn’t remember ever coming here with her mom.


“What’s wrong babe?” Jake asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked, pulling her into him. 



“Oh, nothing. It’s just the school again, wanting to know why I’ve bailed.” Lyra said, kissing his cheek. 



“**** school. You’d think after a couple months they’d get the clue that you don’t want anything to do with them. Why don’t you just drop out, Lyly? It’s not like you want to go back anyway.”


“Yeah…” Lyra said uneasily. She wasn’t sure how to tell Jake that she wanted to go back and graduate. He was a seventeen year old drop-out, a real bad boy. Her friends had described him as the ‘tall, dark and handsome’ type. He had dark brown hair and the eyes to match. He’d always been tall and slim, and generally aloof to the other girls at school. No one really knew why he had asked Lyra out. She had been kind of an outcast; she was quiet, shy, kept mostly to herself and her studies. She was his polar opposite. It was because of this he wouldn’t understand why she’d want to go back. At least, not when he had been so eager to get out of there himself. She wished it wasn’t so hard to choose between the two. Being around Jake made her feel less awkward and shy, especially in situations where she usually backed away from social interaction. Jake had been teaching Lyra how to use her voice, and he’d even unlocked a temper she never knew she had.


After a minute, her phone vibrated again, only once. Indicating she probably had another scathing voicemail from an angry teacher. _Oh well.._ she thought to herself as they walked through the doors of the tattoo parlor. The interior of the building was nicer than the exterior had been; the waiting area and front desk were clean, if a little worn. The layout reminded Lyra of an old cabin or house, with two other rooms visible from the main entrance. The hardwood floor was bright and eye catching, and all of the walls were lined with pictures of drawings and people’s tattoos. It smelled sterile, but also somehow like paint to Lyra. Jake squeezed her shoulder as they approached the front desk. In one of the rooms she could see into, a big, biker looking guy was getting a tattoo on his chest. Another room had two or three people sitting, reading magazines.


“Hey-ey! Trouble!” A guy called, coming out from behind the counter. Jake grinned, letting go of Lyra’s hand as the guy met up with them. They shook hands and did the guy-hug thing. 


“What up, D!” Jake asked as they embraced, “You gonna ink us today?”
“You know it bro! Anythin’ you want.”


“Hell yea!” Jake exclaimed, pulling Lyra back to his side and kissing her on the lips. Lyra blushed, trying to move back behind him. She felt weird, he’d never actually kissed her in front of someone before. 



“What’s with the dove?” D asked, nodding toward Lyra. “Got another girl?”


“Naturally.” Jake said, laughing.


“Dove?” Lyra interjected, looking between the boys, “’Another’ girl?” She let go of Jake’s hand and backed away. “What’s he talking about Jake?” 



“Jake?” D asked, taking his turn to look between the two. “Who the hell’s Jake? What’s she on about, bro?”


Lyra gaped, not knowing what to say. How could someone not know a person’s name when they were referring to him as a ‘bro’? She turned to storm out of the store. Jake grabbed her hand. “Lyly, wait. D, we’ll be right back.”


“Let go of me!” Lyra shouted loudly, earning a few glances from the other people in the store. Most kept to themselves, but the biker guy’s tattoo artist watched intently. Lyra tried to jerk her hand away from Jake, even though he wouldn’t let go.


“Jake you need to let go of me, right now.” Lyra said. Jake only tightened his grip, shaking his head no. The tattoo artist put down his needle, whispered something to the biker guy and approached Lyra. He nodded once, curtly, toward Jake. 



“Is there a situation here Trouble? Ma’am?”


“Nah, no sits here. She’s just bein’ testy.” Jake said quickly, refusing to let go of Lyra’s hand. 



“Yes there’s a problem here! I want to leave, and Jake won’t let me.” Lyra said, trying to pull away from Jake’s grasp. She sighed angrily when he still wouldn’t release his grip.


“Ain’t no ‘Jakes’ here.” The man said, moving behind Jake and gripping his shoulder tightly. Jake’s face fell, making him look scared. When he finally let go of Lyra’s hand she ripped it away from him.


“Yeah, so I’m gathering.” She said angrily, turning on her heel to leave.
“Lyra, wait!” Jake called after her, but she ignored him as she walked briskly toward the door. 



“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” She said over her shoulder, breaking into a jog as the door closed behind her. She jogged a little way up the road, not really sure how she was feeling. She was confused, kind of. She couldn’t understand why none of the guys in the parlor had known who Jake was – even though he was standing right in front of them. They had greeted him in such a friendly way. Well, at least that D guy did. She was nervous, too. She hadn’t really been going to school, and she wasn’t sure how much longer the unanswered phone calls would go on before they decided maybe they should just drop in on the house. Or maybe she was being dramatic, and house visits didn’t actually exist like her mom had told her when she was little. But what if her teachers started sending letters again? Sure, she could intercept them for a little while… but for how long? She pulled her cell out of her pocket, deciding she’d better see which teacher had called her. She froze when the ID indicated that it was her mom who had called and not the school. She felt woozy as she found a bench to sink into. Her mom thought she was at school; she wouldn’t usually call in the middle of a school day.


“Hey Lyra, it’s mom. I know you’re there since I just received a nasty e-mail from Mr. Hornsby telling me that you’ve missed over twenty days of school? Call me.” Lyra must have listened to the voicemail a hundred times, each word stinging as it hit her eardrum. She could hear the disappointment in her mom’s voice, loud and clear. The whole message was dripping with it and anger. She had never heard her mom sound so upset about something. Sure, her mom had been upset -all Lyra seemed to hear from her mom was concern lately. There were the concerns about her failing grades, concerns about her lack of enthusiasm, concerns about how she was changing. But her mom had never sounded as disappointed in those arguments as she did in the voicemail. Wanting to cry, Lyra sighed.


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## NeryLibra

Whoops, forgot to edit a part. The last couple of sentences, disregard the "concerns about failing grades." part and instead read: Sure, her mom had been upset before - but her mom had never sounded as disappointed in those arguments as she did in the voicemail. Wanting to cry, Lyra sighed.

It's an editing fail. My apologies.


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## NeryLibra

The phone vibrated in her hand as a text message lit up the screen, she read it. “Just got off the phone with the principal. Not happy, Lyra.” Lyra stared at the screen, not sure if she should respond. Her first instinct was to ignore it, like Jake would. But a part of her knew that the right thing to do was to go home, or at least call her mom. She shoved her phone into her pocket, wondering what whether she was going to respond or not. She was nervous, she was at least an hours’ bus ride from home, and she still had to go confront Jake. 


“There you are!” Jake exclaimed from behind her, making her jump as he plopped beside her on the bench. “Sorry about that back there – I forgot I never told you my street name. Those guys never knew my real name. Or my real age!” He laughed as he pulled his backpack onto his lap and trifled through it. “Wanna cig?” 


“Sure.” Lyra said as Jake pulled out a cheap looking pack of smokes. He slid two of the sticks out, passing one to her. Lyra looked at the container, wondering who had drawn the camel and whether that person knew what the real thing looked like. Jake was talking, she knew, but she didn’t really want to listen. Her mind lingered around her mom, and the fact that Jake’s friends didn’t really know who he was. She wanted to yell, scream, kick something, or at least slap him. She took the cigarette that he offered her instead.


“You didn’t have be so dramatic though! Near blew my cred with the boys. It’s risky business, being out here Lyly. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He said, lighting her smoke for her. She took a drag as he spoke, trying hard not to cough the stuff back up, “But don’t be too sorry – I was able to cover it up by telling—“


“Sorry?!” Lyra almost shouted, coughing on the smoke in her lungs anyway, “Why would I be sorry for trying to get away from someone whose name I don’t even know Jake? Or Trouble, or whoever you are!” 


“Woah! Hey, calm down…”


“I’m not calming down! And they don’t know your age? Do I even know your age? Are you really seventeen? Are you really Jake? Do you… do you really love me?” Lyra asked, tears welling up in her eyes as she recovered from her coughing fit. She tried to take another drag, but Jake merely exhaled before taking her cigarette out of her mouth. He pulled Lyra into a long kiss. Hesitantly, she kissed him back.


“You know me, babe. I am Jake Cross. I’m only a year older than you. And I really, really, love you.”


“Ok then… I guess we’re ok. Sorry. You just scared me! What was I supposed to do when no one called you Jake and you started acting all weird?” 


“Nothin’ babe, it was my fault. We’ve never gone so far from your ‘hood. I should have told you. I’m sorry.” 


Taking another drag off her cigarette, Lyra considered what Jake was saying. He loved her, and she believed him. His ‘street cred’ confused her; she didn’t understand what was so good about having people as friends if they didn’t even know who you really were. Her phone vibrated again, and instinctually she pulled it out to check. It was another text from her mom, telling her to come home. It had a firm reminder her that mom wasn’t happy. She sniffed as new tears formed.


“You ok?” Jake asked, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into him. A piece of Lyra loved it when he did this; it made her feel so close, and so pretty. 


“Yeah.. I’m alright. Mom found out about school, and she’s ticked is all. I’m going to have to go home just to get yelled at.”


“I’m sorry, that blows… you still wanna get the tattoo? It’ll cheer you up. Plus I convinced D to give you one still! Totally free. It’s some real professional work my friends do, you know.”


“Ok... Sounds good.” She said. There was no real point in going home anyway, not right now. They crushed out their cigarettes and walked back to the tattoo parlor together. The boys nodded at each other before the one named D turned to her. He was also tall and thin, only he was covered in tattoos. His hair was black and he wore glasses with ridiculously oversized frames. 


“So what’s the little filly’s name?” D asked, taking Lyra’s hand and shaking it.


“Ly—“


“Lyric.” Jake said, gently bumping Lyra with his elbow. D only looked at Jake before considering her.


“Wasn’t asking you, bro. I was asking her.”


“My name’s Lyric.” Lyra confirmed quietly. A sense of urgency filled her. She wasn’t sure why she had to lie about her name, but Jake’s elbow nudge had been mildly unsettling. The longer she looked at D, the more certain features stuck out. He had scars, a lot of them. Some of them were on his arms, what she could see behind his tattoos. Most of the scars, though, were on his hands and he had a pretty prominent under his left eye. He had a lot of piercings in his ears, and earrings that looked like big holes in his lobes. His nose and lips were pierced too. But mostly, Lyra noticed his eyes. They were sharp, watchful. Dangerous. He kept sniffing like he had a cold. 


“You 18? Trouble said you were.”


“Yeah, I’m 18.”


“You look younger. Like twelve or thirteen.” D said, looking back at Jake. “You dating little kids now?”


“Nah man, she’s a hundred percent. 18 all the way.”


“Don’t suppose you gotta ID on you Lyric?”


“N-no.. I left it at home. I have my library card though.” Lyra said, thinking about the online library card she could use to identify herself. The only problem was that it wouldn’t read as 



“Lyric.” She realized, for the first time, that she couldn’t see the biker guy’s tattoo artist anywhere. This made her feel nervous. He had been so willing to step in and force Jake to let her go that it made her feel safe. Now that she couldn’t see him, she felt anxious. She moved closer to Jake. 


“Library card?!” D laughed, elbowing Jake in the ribs. Jake grimaced, rubbing his ribs for a moment, “Got yourself a nerd! You ain’t so bad Lyric. We can do this.” Lyra caught a quick glance and smile from Jake as he reassuringly squeezed her hand.
D led the couple back to a room in a quiet corner of the tattoo parlor. Where the other rooms had been clean looking, with nice hardwood flooring and comfortable massage-esque kinds of chairs or tables, this room looked more like an old supply closet. A rickety old wooden chair sat in the middle, next to a machine that barely resembled the fancier ones in the other rooms.


“You want me to sit in that?” Lyra asked skeptically as she regarded the chair. It looked like it was going to collapse the minute she put body weight on it. She couldn’t imagine what would happen to the chair if she endured a tattoo on it. D gave her a stern look that forced her to shut her mouth.


“You want free or you want fancy? Free means older stuff.”


“Come on babe. I promised you a tattoo for your birthday!” 


“Yeah, from a tattoo parlor… not some dude’s creepy cleaned out storeroom.”


“We’re still in the parlor girly. You’re just getting the street treatment. Free comes with a cost you know.”


Nervously, Lyra walked toward the chair. As she did, she noticed the sketch right beside it. Her fears lessened as she looked at it: an intricate horseshoe, small but delicately designed with artistic lines making it look pretty. Another sketch sat beside it, this one with more detail and a little more color, just enough silvery outlines to make the curves of the horseshoe pop, and exaggerated dark lines throughout, giving it depth. She knew, as soon as she saw it, that it was the tattoo she wanted. A culmination of good fortune and something that made her think of her dad. She turned to D and Jake, smiling at them. “It’s a beautiful drawing!”


“Thanks.” D gestured toward the chair. “You gonna sit so we can put the pretty drawing on you?”


Forgetting what it meant to be bashful about kissing him in front of people for just a moment, Lyra ran over to Jake and threw her arms around him. She kissed him for a long time before nodding her consent to D. “Yes, please. Thank you.. I really, just, thank you.”


----------



## NeryLibra

The tattoo had taken almost two hours to position and ink on her left shoulder blade, a place above her heart so she could always remember it. The final piece was gorgeous, lively; almost real on her back as she admired it through the mirror. It had been the most painful experience of her life, but the most rewarding too. D had been courteous in his tattooing, light handed and willing to stop as often as she needed him to. Jake had held her hand the entire time, chatting with D about all sorts of things Lyra had never heard talked about casually. They talked about drugs, and some of the people they knew that dealt them. They talked about areas of the city that Lyra would usually stay away from because they scared her. They talked about a guy named Joey and how he had almost punched Jake in the face after Lyra’s outburst earlier.


“It’s ‘cause she threw such a fit!” D laughed, playfully nudging Lyra’s opposite shoulder.


“I know!” Jake laughed in return; Lyra only scowled down at her legs.


“Why would Joey want to punch you in the face over something I did? He doesn’t know me.”


“Well - -“ 


“’Cause Joey don’t like it when girls is the victim. His daughter was hurt real bad by an ex-boyfriend. So when you started screamin’ about some dude not letting you go he thought that Trouble was hurtin’ you.” D interrupted Jake, giving him a stern look that went right over Lyra’s head. She only looked between the boys and shrugged, ignoring the pain her shoulder gave her when she did. Her phone vibrated again, distracting her. She pulled it out to check. Apparently she had missed seven calls from her mom. The newest text told her that her mom had calmed down and would like to talk to her soon.


“Hey… how long before the tattoo’s done?” She had asked. That had been about thirty minutes into it, and by the time D finished the tattoo, her mom had texted her two more times. The last text told her she would call the police if she didn’t get an immediate response. Lyra had sent a response, hoping it’d be enough to calm her mother down. 


“_With friends, all good. Will be home soon. Love you.”_


After the tattoo was done, D led Lyra to a small waiting area. He told her to sit for a little bit while he dealt with Jake back in the tattoo room. D had mumbled something about making sure the tattoo had been paid in full, which confused her. Earlier they had said the tattoo would be free. As she sat, she admired the framed drawings on the wall. A lot of them were intricate and delicately detailed. She couldn’t imagine getting any one of them tattooed on herself, especially when she considered how big some of them were. She smiled at the thought of her own unique little tattoo, nestled under the warmth of her hoodie. Maybe D would frame the drawing of the horseshoe and add it to the wall.



She wasn’t sure how she was going to face her mom’s wrath when she got home. Ever since her dad died things had been tense between them. She felt like everything her mom said was meant to stifle Lyra, and keep her on a leash. Everything was a fight between them; from dishes to bedtime, when she did actually get to see her mother. She was sick and tired of her mom making her feel like some stupid little kid, telling her what to do and when to do it. And when Lyra had tried to introduce her to Jake, she had tried to shut down their relationship immediately. She told Lyra he was too old, too unfocused, and too chaotic to be dating a girl like Lyra. She said he was a bad kid, someone who went wrong even if his parents had tried to guide him right. She had forbidden Lyra from seeing him again. 



They had fought long and hard over Jake – this was at the start of the school year, back in September. Eventually, Lyra had decided she’d continue to date Jake whether her mom liked him or not, agreeing to dump him only to shut her up and end the stupid fight that left her grounded for three weeks anyway. Of course, it was February now. They had been dating for months without her mom knowing, and it had been a wonderful time for Lyra. Besides, what her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. And it was one less argument over the dumb dishes. “You look like you’re lost in thought.” The voice said, startling her.


“Oh.. I was. Just thinking about home life is all.” Lyra said without looking up. The voice sounded strangely familiar, but she couldn’t place it.


“Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asked, earning Lyra’s attention. When she looked up she was surprised to see the big tattoo artist from earlier standing in front of her. She shook her head ‘no,’ and he sat right by her, extending his hand. “My name’s Joey.”


“I’m Lyra…ic. Lyric.” Lyra said, remembering too late that she needed to be the 18 year old Lyric instead of the 16 year old Lyra.


“Lyra? Pretty name.” Joey said plainly, ignoring her fake name altogether. “You don’t have to act around me. I know no mama is going to name her baby Lyric.”


“You don’t know that! My mom likes music and thinks Lyric is a pretty name…that one singer named his kid Blanket.”


“Lyra.” He said in an almost fatherly tone, stern enough to force her to stop talking. It reminded her of being little, when her dad would bust her in a lie and force her to stop putting her foot in her mouth, before she made things worse for herself.


“Alright.. no, my name isn’t Lyric.”


“I take it you’re not 18, either.”


“I am! I just turned…” Lyra stopped again as she looked at the man in front of her. He had a no-nonsense look on his face, it said _I don’t have time for games, missy._ She sighed, shaking her head ‘no’ again.


“I didn’t think so.”


“Alright… so you know I’m not Lyric, the 18 year old wonder… but why do you care? You don’t know me.”



“No, but I know your type. You prolly wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for some dude you think is hot. I’d even bet you’re cutting class right now just so you can illegally get a tattoo without parental consent or being old enough to do it by yourself. All of us could get into real trouble because of that, you know.”


Lyra only stared down at the floor, trying to avoid this guy’s knowing gaze. He hit the nail right on the head, but she didn’t want to admit it. Only he took her silence as an admission of guilt. “Well why don’t you call the cops if you’re so worried about getting into trouble?”


Joey chuckled but ignored the question, “Lyra, I was a father at one time. My daughter was a good girl.. just got herself twisted up in something she shouldn’t’a been in. And by the time she finally asked for help, it was too late. The guy she was dating turned out to be a psycho. He did some unforgivable things; he’s in jail for them.”





“You ‘were’ a father?” Lyra asked, forgetting about the parlor getting into trouble. The way he said that scared her. For the first time, she actually looked at the guy. He was huge, tall and with a big pot belly. He had a peppered grey beard, and unlike D’s eyes, his eyes were sad. They were what should have been a beautiful, popping green, but the way he held them made them look darker than they were. A big portrait tattoo covered his entire forearm; a pretty girl with the same green eyes and sandy brown hair as him. “What do you mean?”


“My daughter started dating a boy she thought was cute and cool when she was in highschool. At first her momma and I didn’t think nothin’ of it; but her report cards started coming home with Ds and Fs, instead of As and Bs. She came home smelling like cigarettes and alcohol instead of like her peppermint perfume. We found out later that the boy had been expelled from almost every school he went to – that he wasn’t into good things or good people, either. We told her that she needed to break it off, that he was bad for her and turning her into something, someone, she wasn’t.”


Lyra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It sounded almost like this guy had looked right into her life and was reading it back to her. “But why’d you tell her what to do…? I don't listen when my mom tells me what to do...”


“Because we love her. And want her to be safe.” Joey said simply. “Megan prolly felt the same way you did though. She acted like we were dictators, threw a lot of fits over the fact that we didn’t want her dating some kid who couldn’t stay in school. She never did dump him before she got too involved. She started changing, actin' like some unholy little demon spawn rather than our pretty little girl. And when she finally break it off… things went wrong.” Joey blinked quickly, wiping his eye, scaring Lyra even more. A sinking feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach as she watched the big man struggle not to cry. He sniffed and looked down at the portrait tattoo as he spoke. “I visit her as often as I can, bring her flowers too. Carnations were always her favorite… I see a lot of her in you, Lyra. That kid, Trouble, he got his name for a reason. He’s up to no good, and you gotta remember that.”


----------



## Change

Keep going! I'm interested.


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## NeryLibra

Can do, Change! 






Joey left Lyra, quietly walking away with only a nod of his head to say ‘goodbye.’ It didn't seem like he really had anything else to say, though he probably had a lot on his mind. Just as he was getting up and walking away, her phone vibrated again and Jake emerged from the back room with D following at a little distance all at once. He planted a kiss on Lyra’s cheek as he held her hand, smiling at her, when he reached her bench. She barely had the nerve to smile back. His face drooped as he looked at her. “Babe, what’s wrong? Your mom? Don’ worry ‘bout it. It’ll be ok. She’s just mad.”

Lyra only nodded, trying not to dwell on the stuff Joey had said. D caught up with them after a few moments, giving Lyra her tattoo care instructions. She felt strange as she listened, the conversation she had had with the big tattoo artist playing across her mind. Joey had looked so sincere, and sounded so much like her mom did when they had argued over Jake back in September. She wasn’t sure what Joey had meant by visiting Megan, either, but she didn’t really like the way it sounded. And there was the fact that just talking about Megan was enough to make a guy as big as him almost cry. As she thought about it, she was beginning to find it hard to picture her mom loving her the way Joey had loved Megan. All her mom did was spend her time at work, or yell at Lyra for stupid things like the chores when they did actually see each other… she never really listened to what Lyra had to say, anyway. And most of the time, Lyra was in bed before her mom even got home.

Lyra was starting to feel less connected to Joey’s story with each passing minute. It was sad, what happened to Megan. But the guy Megan dated was in jail, and Jake would never really hurt Lyra. At least she didn’t think so. The only thing that really bothered her about what Joey had said was that she “needed” to remember what he had said about ‘Trouble.’ Surely he didn’t really know about anything if he didn’t even know Jake’s real name. Maybe he was just trying to scare Lyra because of her outburst earlier, which eased Lyra’s mind.

She felt better as they walked toward the bus stop, Lyra laced her fingers through Jake’s. He wasn’t so bad. He always spent time with her, and made her feel pretty. He loved her despite her angular cheeks, dingy blue eyes and ugly brownish-black hair. By all rights, Lyra was a “brunette,” but her hair always looked greasy and gross. She was fat everywhere, except her chicken arms. 

She decided, too, that she wasn’t going to worry about school anymore. Pulling out her cell, she texted her mom, skipping the last message she had received. _I’m gonna drop out. _Her mom wouldn’t mind. Not as long as she had her precious jobs to tend to. And if Lyra dropped out, she wouldn’t have to worry about stupid papers and grades anymore. She’d drop out, get a job, have a baby, marry Jake… life would be good, she thought. Her phone vibrated with her mom’s response, which she ignored as she scooched closer to Jake and started kissing him. When the bus rolled to a stop in front of them they hopped on. Her life was going to get better, she realized. With Jake at her side she would be just fine.


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## NeryLibra

“What do you mean you’re dropping out?!” Amelia shouted, pacing back and forth between the little wood and glass coffee table and couch. The living room, like the house, was too small for Lyra’s liking. The walls were all white – everywhere except her room, since she had finally convinced her dad before he passed to let her paint them green – and an ugly brown carpet spanned the length of the house, except the bathroom and kitchen of course. It didn’t have enough space since there were only two bedrooms. Her mom had pounced like a tiger as soon as Lyra had walked in the front door; Lyra had been glued to her spot on the floor as her mom vented, stuck somewhere between the kitchen and the hallway. She felt like lead weights kept her stationary as she watched her mom. In the back of her mind, she just wanted to be lying in her bed.

“You heard me mom.” Lyra said, trying to stare her mother down. “I’m dropping out. I’m sick of school.. it’s, just.. it’s stupid! I mean, seriously. I go to some building, where some people I don’t really care about, and they don’t really care about me! Shove useless information in my face.. and then they expect me to do something with it to impress them!”

“Lyra it’s not about impressing people who don’t care about you – and, for your information, they seem to care quite a lot for you! – it’s about your education, your future, your career! What you can do to earn m—“

“Last time I looked, I don’t need an education to get married. You sure didn’t.”

Amelia stopped in her tracks, returning Lyra’s stare. “Lyra regardless of what you want to do with your life you need _some_ sort of education to fall back on. You’re getting married? You haven’t even had time to meet boys. Unless… you’re not talking about that Jake kid, are you?”

“So what if I am, you don’t care.”

“Honey, Jake is bad news. Of course I care. You need to go to school.. I told you to dump that guy! You told me you did! You’re too young to be worrying about marriage.” She said, finally sinking into the couch with a deep sigh. She looked confused and lost. “Please honey… I talked to your principal. He thinks we can work this out and get you back on track.. you’ll need to do some summer homework and repeat classes next year, but you can catch up. I know you can do it.”

Lyra kept her distance, not sure how she felt about her mom’s change in demeanor. It wasn’t like her to drop a subject so quickly, or to stop an argument in the middle of it. “I’m dropping out mom. That’s my final decision.” She said as she turned to leave the room, the weight melting off her feet finally. Behind her, the coffee table clattered.

“Lyra Leann Michaelson! Is that a Tattoo on your shoulder?!” A shiver went down Lyra’s spine as the question rolled off of her eardrum. She had forgotten that the straps of her tank top wouldn’t be enough to completely cover her new tattoo when she had stripped out of the hoodie. She broke into a jog, hoping to make it to her room before her mom would be able to reach her. Just as she reached the threshold and tried to slam her door shut, she realized too late that there was no door to slam. The pale green walls beckoned her gently, inviting her in. The same old picture of her and her dad at the beach that hung above her bed called to her. She longed to crawl into bed and stare at that picture and pretend that they had never left that day in the past. Panicking, Lyra fled for the bathroom instead. Her mom caught her arm. 

“Let me see it, Lyra.”

“No way!” 

“Lyra Leann!” Amelia said, pulling Lyra into her and pushing her shoulder strap in toward her neck, fully revealing the tattoo. “A horseshoe?” Amelia said, looking at it for a moment before walking around to look into Lyra’s eyes. “You got a horseshoe?”

“It was.. it was for luck mom.” 

“Who, in their right mind, would tattoo a 16 year old without parental consent?” 

“No one…” Amelia’s eyes widened as she searched Lyra’s eyes for answers, probably because she was assuming the worst, like always.

“Please tell me this is a legitimate tattoo, not something one of Jake’s friends gave you on some homemade device…”

“What do you have against Jake?! God, everything with you is, “No Jake” this or “not Jake!” that!”

“Answer the question honey. I promise, I won’t get any more upset than I am now.. if it was a homemade device…”

“Ugh!” Lyra interrupted angrily, “God! No, ok?! Just no. It was a real tattoo parlor. But yeah, you were right as freaking always! It was one of Jake’s friends! Ok?!”

A sigh of relief left her mom as she let go of Lyra’s arm. “Ok… you’re grounded.”

“What?!”

“Three weeks. Give me the phone.”

“No! You said you wouldn’t get upset!”

“Honey, I said I wouldn’t get more upset. You’re still grounded.”

“God this is so like you! You never listen to reason mom!” Lyra whined, refusing to get her cell. “I can’t ever talk to you!” 

“The phone, Lyra.”

“No!” She shouted, running into the bathroom and slamming the door shut, making sure to lock it.

“You can hide in there all night Lyra! But I will be getting the phone by the end of this all!”

“Yeah right.” Lyra grumbled as she sprawled herself out in the bathtub, pulling her phone out of her pocket. She decided to delete all of her mom’s texts from the day, and to text Jake. 

_Hey._

_hey babe_

_Mom freaked, like I said she would…_

_Sucks_

_Yeah… I’m locked in the bathroom she’s trying to ground me again_

_shes such a control freak_

_I just wish she’d talk to me instead of punishing me like always_

_nah shes too old for that_

_I guess… she talked to my principal today you know_

_oh yea_

_Yeah, said I could get my grades back up, maybe even graduate_

_why do that?_

_Well what if I want a diploma or something?_

_that’s what geds are for lol_

_Geds?_

_yea, you get a fake diploma._

_takes less time_

_I like the idea of a real diploma… I want to earn it, you know?_

_nah, always saw it as a waste of time_

Lyra stared at her screen, rereading the entire conversation. Somewhere in her mind, the conversation was unsettling. She didn’t like it, or how it had gone. It sounded like Jake didn’t even care if Lyra graduated. She sighed as she looked at the time. It was 5:15. It had been roughly two hours since she locked herself in, and she had realized that talking to Jake hadn’t made her feel any better. She unlocked the door and was surprised to find the hall empty. As she walked through the house, she wondered where her mom was. There wasn’t any sign of her anywhere, and her mom wouldn’t answer her cell. Giving up, Lyra wondered what the principal meant by summer homework, and whether she’d be able graduate at all. 

Since she’d started dating Jake last September, she’d been told that she broke two school records for days missed. Last semester, Lyra had been able to intercept most of the angry letters and phone calls from the school. Jake helped her fake her report cards, changing the letters from Ds and Fs to As, Bs, and sometimes Cs, for her mom to sign. In return she was able to spend all of her free time with him. But this semester had been more difficult. The school required an e-mail account hooked up to each student, and Lyra hadn’t intercepted the letter that had the instructions for setting up the e-mail account at the start of the second semester. 

Two months in, she had continued her school-missing streak with Jake’s help. Only this time not even Jake or his friends could keep it on the down-low because of the e-mail thing. Guilt ate at her conscience as she considered what she had done in the last school year. Since she had failed so bad, she had automatically rolled into what one of the letters called “academic probation” where she was repeating the first semester of all her courses.. all to be with some guy who had a street life she didn’t really know about and he didn’t seem to care whether she graduated or not. Her mom probably still didn’t know that she was repeating classes this year.

Sure, Jake was hot. He had muscles, he made her feel pretty. But Lyra was starting to wonder if maybe her mom was right all along, like she usually was, about him. Just because he was hot didn’t necessarily mean that he was a good guy to be with… but then, here she was, over thinking things just because he thought a GED was the answer to her problems. She pulled her phone out again, reading the conversation again. In her new mood, the conversation was less “I don’t care” and more “there’s still options, just in case.” She smiled, feeling better. Of course he was an ok guy; a little misguided, but goodhearted still. He had her back. She texted him.

_Love you. _ 

The night passed quietly for Lyra. She hadn’t heard from her mom in a while – all the better, since things had gotten pretty hot earlier. She made a package of ramen for dinner, watched some T.V., texted with Jake on and off. She decided that she would go to school tomorrow, for the first time in a while, and try to see what she could do to get back on track for graduation. It would be embarrassing, to show up to actually be a student, instead of to show up and hide in the back. But she was optimistic that she’d be able to work something out. Her mom had said that the principal would be willing to work with her, after all. It took a little convincing, but even Jake was on board by the time she went to sleep on the couch. Lyra texted a goodnight to her mom, even though her mom didn’t reply, before she fell asleep.


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## aimeeleigh

Don't be self conscious! I'm enjoying your story!


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## Change

More! I want more.

There are a few minor technical errors in your writing, but the story is engaging and I'm hooked.


----------



## NeryLibra

Thank you guys; it really means a lot that you're interested. I'll keep on keeping on!
----

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.” Amelia called the next morning, slapping her hand on the coffee table, the noise waking Lyra, “come on, get up Lyra. It’s eleven in the morning!” 

Lyra groaned, rubbing her tired eyes, “Mom? Where’d you go?”

“To get some air.” Amelia said, pulling the blanket off of her daughter. “I went for a drive and ended up having to spend the night in some town out in the boonies. Over three hours away!”


“Why the heck didn’t you text me, or call me, or even tell me you were going to leave the house!” Lyra barked, shaking off her weariness. “What would have happened if something bad happened to me?!”

“Like what Lyra?”

“I don’t know – a fire? Someone broke in? What if I had a heart attack?!”

“Lyra don’t be dramatic. You’re 16. You’re not going to have a heart attack.”

“Yeah… maybe not, but I could have started a fire! Or someone could have broken in!”

“Why should I be worried about you? You’ve spent the majority of this semester off doing things without my knowledge. Obviously you think you’ll be fine on your own. I’d like to think you know how to handle those situations since you’re such a capable, mature young lady.” Amelia snapped, staring her daughter down without another word.

Lyra gaped at her mom, each word stinging like a slap in the face. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes as she considered what her mom had just said to her. “So you don’t’… you don’t care about me? Or my well-being? What if I died..don’t you love me?”

“Of course I care about and love you Lyra, but I’m not the one who abused my trust. I’m not the one acting like an adult and lying to my face about school, my grades, who I’m dating. You’re clearly capable of handling yourself. So I decided last night to let you handle yourself. And very clearly, you came away from the night just fine.”

“But - - I…”

“And since we’re discussing you handling yourself, I’m wondering why you didn’t get yourself to school today? Or are you still going to drop out?”

Confused, Lyra looked at the clock on the wall. She stared at the time. “It’s already eleven?”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Mom! That’s not fair, you said it right when I woke up and I, well it didn’t register and I meant to go to school today, I wanted to talk to Mr. Hornsby. And all of my teachers…”

“You’re perfectly capable of getting yourself out of bed, or couch in this case.”

“Mom!” Lyra shouted, her voice cracking as the tears started to fall, “please.” 

Amelia didn’t look like she was going to be easily swayed. She merely gestured toward the front door. “I’ll give you a lift if you’d like to go to school. But if you’re not going to actually go to a class, there’s no point in me wasting my gas or my time.” Lyra nodded, sniffing.

“Just let me change real quick…” She turned on her heel and ran to her bedroom, quickly changing into something fresh and throwing her hair into a messy bun. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror – a teary, red-eyed mess with greasy brown hair in a plain red shirt and raggedy blue jeans. She stuck her tongue out in distaste as she jogged back to her mom. Amelia regarded her for a moment, her eyes clearly dissecting the outfit before pointing back to the hall.

“You’re going to want to clean that bun up. We’re meeting with Hornsby half past noon.”

Surprised and not sure what to say, Lyra nodded again, running to the bathroom. She pulled her hair down, quickly running a brush through it – when her mom stopped her. “Let me..” she said, taking the brush from Lyra and beginning to comb her hair. After about ten minutes, Amelia had Lyra’s hair in a tight French braid. She had helped Lyra wash her face, apply some make up to cover up her red, puffy eyes, and even suggested an outfit for her to wear to the meeting before excusing herself to change. Looking into the mirror this time, Lyra saw a slightly older version of herself, with a round, soft face instead of angular cheeks. The dingy brown color of her hair even looked diminished, almost vibrant. She looked like a completely different person. It had been a while since her mom had helped her get dressed or ready for anything. A small part of her missed the kind treatment, instead of being yelled at or having to yell back. The raggedy jeans and t-shirt had been replaced by black slacks and a nicer, lacy top. It was one of her mom’s favorite shirts, and she felt honored to be able to wear the outfit. 

The drive to the school had been awkward as Amelia turned out of the lower-middle class neighborhood. They discussed school, what the meeting was about and why they had dressed so properly to meet with her principal. It turned out Amelia had spent several hours last night e-mailing Mr. Hornsby and convincing him that Lyra would be able to do better at school. The thought confused Lyra as she pictured her mom, spending so much of her little free time trying to help a daughter who hadn’t even asked for help in the first place. 

They discussed the tattoo too, and why Lyra had wanted to get a horseshoe. She’d never admit it, but horseshoes were the only thing she actually remembered her dad liking. _It brings good fortune when it’s right side up, honey. _He had said, ruffling her hair. He never told her why a horseshoe was his good-luck token, but he had always been fond of them. It was their secret, the horseshoe. So Lyra told her mom exactly what she’d told Jake: she picked a horseshoe because it represented good luck. She didn’t want to break the secrecy of the horseshoe; her private little moment wither her dad. Lyra apologized for her behavior the last night and last few months, explaining that being left alone with no information about where her mom was scared her. How she didn’t realize just how much that could affect her. Her mom told her that she was happy to hear she’d gotten the point across, but left it at that.

When they pulled up to the school, Lyra could barely breathe. The walk to Mr. Hornsby’s office felt more like walking the plank than a walk to her principal’s office to try and figure out whether she’d be able to catch up in time to graduate with the rest of her class. They were a group of people she hadn’t really seen or interacted with since the last school year and in bits and pieces over the summer, she hardly spoke to any of her friends these days. Her stomach churned at the smell of the lunch in the cafeteria as they passed – it being a Friday, she was willing to bet that it was pizza day. She had to constantly remind herself to inhale when weight started to press on her chest. And just like that, she was sitting there, on a hard, wooden chair in an office full of luxurious-looking faux leather furniture. Mr. Hornsby, Mr. Wright and Mr. O’Hara all sat on one side of the big desk. Of course Mr. Hornsby would bring in two of her least favorite teachers for this meeting.

“Ms. Michaelson, Mrs. Michaelson, it’s nice to see you ladies here.” Mr. Hornsby said, shaking each of their hands. “We all know why we’re here, so I’m going to suggest we skip the preface.” Both of the Michaelson ladies nodded in agreement.

“Ms. Michaelson, why have you been absent to such an extreme extent?” Mr. Hornsby asked bluntly, looking directly at Lyra.

“I.. uh..” Lyra stammered, looking between the adults in the room unsure how to answer. She had planned it all out in her head, her grand confession, and begging to get back to school. But planning it out and actually doing it were two different things. Her heart hammered in her chest as she considered what, exactly, she was going to have to confess to. She didn’t know how she was supposed to open up to these people and tell them that she had decided to skip school just because Jake made her feel special. Not when they could so easily say she was stupid, expel her and call it good. Mr. Wright shifted in his seat, crossing his arms and glaring at Lyra. Mr. O’Hara’s face was blank, but not in a good way, as he looked around the room. Mr. Hornsby folded his hands, patiently looking at her. Lyra’s throat went dry. Suddenly, the weight of her decision made itself clear as it pressed down on her shoulders, showing her just how stupid she had been. A sense of urgency filled her as she looked to her mom for answers. Amelia only darted her eyes toward Mr. Hornsby, offering Lyra little support. 

“Ms. Michaelson?” Mr. Hornsby asked again after clearing his throat, “We don’t have all day.”

Lyra steeled her nerves, taking a deep breath before she spoke. When she did speak, it came out too fast and garbled even for her ears to understand. “I’ve been skipping school because of a boy.”

“Boy?” Mr. O’Hara asked with a smirk on his face.

“What?” Mr. Hornsby asked, “You’ll have to speak more slowly.”

Lyra nodded, taking another deep breath. “I’ve been skipping… skipping school because of the boy I am, uh… I am dating.”

“Ah. Mrs. Michaelson, were you aware of this?”

“No.”

“And were you aware that a combination of over twenty phone-calls, and at least ten letters, were sent out in attempt to reach you for explanation of Lyra’s absentee behavior this past school semester?”

“What?” Amelia asked, shooting a concerned look at her daughter, “n-no, I was not.”

“I don’t buy it Phil.” Mr. Wright said, glaring at Amelia. “No parent is that clueless.”

“I am inclined to agree, Mrs. Michaelson. Especially since you, yourself, signed Lyra’s failing report cards all semester long.”

“I signed her report cards, but they were As and Bs. The occasional C.” Amelia said with confusion thick in her voice. “I would never let failing grades slip continually, especially not for an entire semester!” Lyra’s heart dropped as the weight of her actions came back to her conscience again, especially now that her mom was being blamed for her actions. It wasn’t fair, not to her mom. 

Mr. Wright scoffed, standing up from his chair. “Phil, I can’t handle this. You know my decision; kick these two out of our school and save what reputation we have left. I’m leaving.”

“John.” Mr. Hornsby said, gesturing to the now empty chair, “please, sit.”

“No, Phil. I have a limited time frame, and listening to the rambling of an idiot and her spawn is not how I’d like to decompress before I have to spend the next three hours teaching my students.” 

“Please, Mr. Hornsby. There’s too much riding on Lyra’s shoulders, on my shoulders, for me to just be ok with her failing!” Amelia interjected, looking panicky herself. “I’m sure there’s an explanation, please don’t limit Lyra’s future because of her short comings She..”

“I still don’t buy it, Mrs. Michaelson. How would you miss so many notifications? Didn’t you bother to ask your child about her day, what she learned, why she didn’t seem to be doing her homework?” Mr. Wright asked, giving a pointed look to Lyra as he mentioned the homework.

“I’ve been doing my best since my husband died Mr. Wright.”

“Oh-ho! Another sob story about how someone died!”

“John that was out of line.” Mr. O’Hara interrupted, rising from his chair as well. “Kevin was a respected man and his passing has left plenty affected by the loss.” He looked at Amelia, “I apologize for my colleague’s behavior; that was uncalled for.”

Amelia only nodded, sniffing and taking the tissue Mr. O’Hara offered before she quieted down. Mr. Wright sighed heavily, turning his glare to Mr. O’Hara. “He is right Amelia, I apologize. I simply struggle to believe someone would miss so many points of contact.”

“Stop!” Lyra shouted, standing up so quickly her chair fell over, “Mr. Wright, Mr. Hornsby, mom’s not kidding. Every report card she signed.. she genuinely thought had As and Bs.”

“And why would she think that, Lyra?” Mr. Hornsby asked, looking confused. No, not confused. His face looked like it was mocking her.

“Lyra?” Her mom asked, the sting from John’s diss still obvious in her eyes.

“My.. my boyfriend helped me, to… to… he uh, well. We forged my grades, you see, so when mom signed… “

Mr. Wright scoffed again, rolling his eyes. “Even if you falsified your report cards, there’s no way this woman would miss several letters and phone calls. And I know I left voicemails, I was furious most of the last semester.” 

“There is a way..” Lyra said, her voice dropping almost to a whisper as she spoke. “When I signed up last semester… I didn’t put her number as the primary contact, I put mine… and I’ve spent so much time at home that I was able to intercept pretty much all of the letters.” Lyra’s heart felt heavy as she confessed, she could feel the insistent press of the eyes on the room as they stared her down. She felt like crying, even though the tears wouldn’t come. She couldn’t bear to look at her mom. “I missed the e-mail one though..”

The silence weighed like an anvil on her shoulders as the men, and her mother, stared at her. Mr. O’Hara spoke first. “Was the boy worth it?”

“What?!” Amelia asked, a new fury showing itself. “Of course he wasn’t worth it!”

“Well I thought he was…” Lyra said, earning another heavy silence in the room. “At least, at first I did…” A grandfather clock that Lyra hadn’t noticed before chimed the 1’oclock hour. It didn’t seem like anyone knew what to say at that moment, even Mr. Wright had to sit back down.

“This explains why the e-mail warranted more accurate responses than the letters and phone calls.” Mr. Hornsby finally said, breaking the silence. “You know, Lyra, for your behavior I ought to expel you. He sighed. “But I did tell your mother that I’d help you, if I could, given your previous academic success before this outbreak of yours.”

“Expel her.” Mr. Wright said, looking around the group. “Because any class of mine that she’s in, she’ll automatically fail.”

Mr. O’Hara interjected, looking at Mr. Wright. “That’s not right.”

“Bad behavior shouldn’t be rewarded, Troy. She has not only lied to the school and every one of its teachers, but she’s made a fool of herself and her own mother. She’s jeopardized her own education all for the sake of being with a _boy._ And I’m not about to let her get away with such reckless, destructive behavior.”

Mr. Wright’s words felt like a punch in the stomach to Lyra, her heart broke with almost every sentence. A part of Lyra agreed; she deserved to be punished. But the rebellious part of her was the one that was screaming inside. “That’s not cool Mr. Wright!” She shouted, earning a nasty look from her mom. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to ‘fess up?! Maybe I should have never come back!”

“Lyra!”

“No Mom. This jerk isn’t going to let me finish school just because he doesn’t like me?! I’m not about to stand for that.”

“And this is what I mean, Phil! She can’t control herself. Why should she be rewarded with the completion of the year? Expulsion is the only thing that will teach this girl!” Mr. Wright spat, his face beginning to turn red.

“Of course you’d feel that way, you ignorant ***! You never liked me, or my mom and definitely not my dad to begin with! So what would you care if I do or don’t succeed?!”

“Ignorant?! Young lady, the only ignorance in this room is you – and the ignorance you placed on your mother’s--” The veins in Mr. Wright’s neck started to bulge, and Mr. O’Hara shuffled him out of the room before anything else could be said. Lyra looked at Mr. Hornsby, unable to hold his gaze for very long. She sighed. “I’m sorry Mr. Hornsby, but that wasn’t fair…” He cut her off by raising his hand.

“Life isn’t fair, Lyra, and whether you like it or not, there are several teachers in this school that agree with Mr. Wright. When I thought maybe your mom was to blame, I was on your side. But after listening to how you abused her trust, as well as ours, and our system? Even I am inclined to agree with John on some levels. Bad behavior isn’t something the people of this world take lightly, and what you did to yourself, your school and especially your mother was nothing but bad behavior. If you think otherwise, you’re mistaken I’m afraid.”

Lyra had to bite her tongue to keep from talking over Mr. Hornsby. Amelia sat in her chair, quietly, not looking like she knew what to say, either. Lyra forced herself to hold Mr. Hornsby’s eyes as he spoke. “However, it took real courage to own up to your actions. And I feel that if you begin to show improvement, and it is a huge improvement we’d need to see, young lady, some of the teachers would come around. Even Mr. Wright might come around if he sees development in character.”

On the other side of the room, Amelia sniffed. Lyra hadn’t realized she was still crying, so she offered her mom another tissue. It was ignored. “You realize that with as badly as you failed – all – of your classes last semester, you’re already repeating the start of last semester? And that you’re already two months behind in your repeated courses?”

Lyra nodded, unsure of where this was going. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Amelia’s surprise at the mention of how far behind she was.

“There’s still three months left in the semester, and restarting an entire school year this late in the game would be difficult. What we could do, however, is start you afresh for next semester. You’d be behind your class by a year.”

“But what about if I..”

“Don’t interrupt, it’s very rude Lyra. You’re suspended as of today, for the rest of the semester. If you’re serious about graduation, we’ll see you at the start of the fall semester, to pick up where you left off at. You’ll be repeating all of the classes you’re currently in. You’re dismissed.” Mr. Hornsby left no room for discussion as he gestured toward the door, “Amelia, if you’d please stay with me for a moment.”


----------



## Change

ACK!!!! Where's the next piece!!!


----------



## NeryLibra

Lyra groaned inwardly as she kicked the floor under the bench outside of the principal’s office. She was so angry – angry at Mr. Wright, angry at her mom, angry at Jake, but mostly, she was angry at herself. Her mom had been in the office for about twenty minutes, and all Lyra could do was wait for her to come out. She had considered texting Jake while she waited, but she wasn’t sure what he’d say. If she had to guess, it’d probably be something about this being even more of a reason to drop out of school and keep her eye on a GED. She wanted so badly to march back into the principal’s office and demand that her suspension be revoked so she could prove her worth, but she forced herself to stay seated. 

If Mr. Hornsby was right about most of the teachers in the school agreeing with Mr. Wright, Lyra didn’t think that being stuck in a class with those teachers for an hour a day for the next several months would be fun. Lyra leaned her head against the wall, staring up at the school’s symbol. A gold big-cat portrait was painted up there in the vaulted ceiling, reminding her that the school’s mascot was a cougar. Her phone vibrated.

_hey babe, you wanna hang?_

As Lyra read her text, she realized that just talking to Jake had the power to make her feel better sometimes. At least, depending on her mood. Right now she needed a dose of Jake’s carefree nature. She giggled as she remembered a time they had hung out at the lake. He had been intent on drawing her portrait with a stick in the sand before the water got higher. The drawing had only lasted five minutes.

_I can’t. At school. _ 

_why you at school_

_Why? We talked about it last night. I want to get my diploma._

_ooh yea i forgot_

Lyra couldn’t believe what she was reading, considering the last text visible in the conversation had said he was cool with her getting a diploma. It didn’t make sense that he wouldn’t remember something that they had literally just talked about, less than twenty-four hours earlier. Just as she was typing her response, the office door opened and Mr. Hornsby and her mom emerged, thanking each other and shaking hands before Mr. Hornsby handed a thick stack of files to her. Amelia turned a glare to Lyra almost immediately, holding her free hand out to Lyra. “Did you forget about being grounded? Fork over the phone.”

“Just let me finish this text…” Lyra said, trying to type faster to let Jake know she was getting grounded. Amelia snatched the phone from her before she could hit ‘send.’

“I’m not playing around today Lyra. I’m not happy at all, and in fact, I’m extremely disappointed in you. I don’t care about your friends or your boyfriend. They’ll survive a month without getting a text from you.”

“A month?!” Lyra exclaimed, her voice echoing in the room. The principal’s secretary briefly poked her head around a corner further up the hall.

“A month and three weeks.” Amelia didn’t say anything else as she put Lyra’s phone, and the files, into her purse. Without another word, Amelia started walking. The silence made Lyra even more nervous, especially since everything that had come out into the open in the meeting had everything to do with trust, or rather, how Lyra had broken her mother’s trust all year just to be with a guy. Mr. Wright’s dig on her dad made her blood boil as she thought about everything that had happened.

“I think we should sue Mr. Wright.” Lyra said as they walked through the halls. She couldn’t help but peek into the classrooms they passed. Each of the kids in them looked so happy compared to how Lyra felt. The honor-roll student in her yearned to be sitting in those lectures, trying to take notes and pay attention while her giggly friends passed notes of a different kind. In a couple of the rooms, she recognized her old friends. She waved, though her gesture went unnoticed.

“John was only upset. He shouldn’t have said what he did, but I’m not angry about it.” Amelia said bluntly, “If I were in his shoes, I might have said the same thing. Or at the very least, felt it.” The words stung Lyra, making her sad.

“Well it still wasn’t nice.”

“Nothing about that meeting was nice. But it’s done. You’re lucky you didn’t get expelled.”

“I might as well have been! What am I supposed to do for the next six months?”

“You might just continue to hang out with Jake.” Amelia spat, the bitterness in her tone warning Lyra that another argument was on the way. Lyra decided to keep her mouth shut, at least until her mom decided to make the first move. If she let her mom approach the topic when she was ready, the fights and punishments were usually less severe. She gulped, wondering how long it would take before her mom was ready to talk. Together, they walked back to the car in silence. In the back of her mind, Lyra started to crave a cigarette.

Her mom had been silent the entire drive home; only the sound of the radio or the blinker filled the car. Lyra had wanted so badly to switch off of the static filled channel that only allowed a few commercials to come in clearly, but a part of her was scared to break the silence between them or move. She imagined this was what it felt like to be standing in front of a coiled up rattle snake; unable to move but terrified to stay in the spot you were standing. Every glance she snuck at her mom left her with a bigger impression that world war III was about to begin. Amelia’s lips twitched, as though she were practicing what she’d say to Lyra when they got home. Her hands periodically tightened on the steering wheel.

When they got home, Lyra waited for her mom to go inside first before getting out of the car. She glanced around, wishing more than ever she could be going into the bright yellow house across the street instead of into their house. _I bet no one is going to die over there tonight…_ she thought to herself before she finally steeled her nerves and went inside. Her mom was sitting on the couch, watching the TV despite it being turned off. Lyra stood in the doorway for a moment, wondering what she should do. Normally she’d go to her room and lock herself away, probably draw something while she sulked. But she didn’t currently have a bedroom door. She wanted to ask where it was, but she knew that was a mistake waiting to happen.

“You know Lyra; teens are capable of pretty rotten things. But I never once thought you’d sabotage yourself so badly.” Her mom said suddenly, catching her off guard. “Or me. I could’ve sworn that dad and I raised you better… taught you to think before acting. I guess I was wrong. I guess he was, too.” She said, and for the first time in a while Lyra remembered that there was a small picture of the three of them together, just behind the TV. Her heart sunk.

“So you’re telling me dad…”

“Your father would be just as disappointed as me. If not more.”

“I think you’re wrong. He’d be just as disappointed. I doubt he could get more upset than you.”

“Do you? You were our pride and joy. We put so much god forsaken effort in making sure you weren’t stupid when you grew up. It looks like that was wasted time.”

“What do you know?!” Lyra snapped, her heart pounding painfully as her mind registered one thing: her mom had just called her stupid. “You must not be very smart either since you didn’t even know I was skipping school! All you do is work work work, you never thought to even ask me how my days went!”

“You were in bed by the time I got off my second job, Lyra. Was I supposed to wake you up?”

“You could have texted me! You could have called! God, at least when I’m with Jake I know I’m important! You’re like just… you’re a ghost mom. You’re there, you give me money and food and crap, but when I needed you, you disappeared! Why? Because we need money? Puh-lease. Dad had insurance, he didn’t leave us flat *** broke. Face it, you just abandoned me. When I lost my daddy I lost my mom too.”

Lyra stopped herself as she looked at her mom; she had crossed a line she should have never even touched. “I didn’t really mean that.” Amelia looked shocked, hurt, confused, sad, but mostly Amelia looked lonely as she blinked, trying to shake away her tears. She sniffed, just once, before she stood up and made her way to the kitchen.

“Dad’s insurance was barely enough to cover the funeral expenses and a few months of mortgage, Lyra. I’ve been working so hard to make sure we don’t lose the house. I’m sorry you felt so alone these last few months honey. I never knew.”

“No. You didn’t. You never knew and you ever even asked and you act SO surprised that I ditched school because of it.”

“I’m surprised because I trusted you. I trusted you because I had no choice.” Amelia whispered before she left the room, stalking off in the direction of her bedroom.

That singular statement whipped the words from Lyra’s mouth. Her eyes darted to the picture behind the TV. Her parents stood together, her dad’s arm behind her mom’s back, her mom holding Lyra’s shoulder. Lyra had just lost one of her front teeth, her smile proudly displaying the gap. Everyone looked so happy in that picture; her heart yearned to be the happy little Lyra she had been then. She wished desperately for a time machine. In her mind, she replayed her mom’s words dozens of times. Trust was what it had come to. Her mom had trusted her to be the daughter she raised. And Lyra had betrayed the trust Amelia had put into her. Her heart continued to pound painfully, each beat feeling like it would crack her heart to pieces. Tears began to roll down her cheek as she sank to the floor, her legs giving out. The sobs hit her hard as she curled up in a ball. She wanted to be seven again, to have her mom and dad by her side. She wanted her daddy back. She wanted to get the man who had murdered him. She wanted a time machine, just one time machine, just one chance to fix everything. Eventually she drifted into an uneasy sleep, thinking about that day at the beach.


----------



## Change

More! What happens next?


----------



## NeryLibra

Lyra woke to the smell of eggs and bacon, feeling kind of empty. Her head pounded as she stared up at the ceiling, reminding her that she had been crying the night before. At some point she must have moved up to the couch and curled up with the afghan that her mom liked to drape over the back cushions, though she only remembered falling asleep on the floor. A cup of coffee was sitting on the table with steam still visibly rising from it, and she instinctively reached for it to take a sip.

“I’m glad you’re awake.” Amelia said, sitting on the couch beside her and handing her a plate. Lyra smiled back at the smiley face her mom had formed with the contents. For a minute they sat in silence, Lyra feeling unsure as to whether she was supposed to eat or not. She looked around, her eyes landing on a stack of files on the table. She pointed at them.

“What’re those?”

“They’re documents from school. Copies of the letters you never gave to me, your report cards from last semester as well as your progress reports. I have a personal letter from each of your teachers too. Mostly discussing how they’d feel about you returning to their classes.”

“Oh…” Lyra sighed, unable to say anything else. “Well… what do they say?”
“Most of what you’d expect. They’re upset, disappointed. A lot of them don’t want you back in their class unless you dramatically improve, like Mr. Hornsby said yesterday. Mr. Wright’s was exceptionally unforgiving.”

“He always hated me mom.” Lyra said flatly, taking another sip of her coffee and nibbling on some of the bacon. “But that’s fine. I was never good at English anyway. It’s a good thing I’m going to drop out.”

“Actually honey, he was more disappointed in you than every other teacher. In his letter he told me that you were one of his favorite students, not because English was your strong suit, but because you always tried your best to turn in something worthy of being read. He was upset that he only had two school years to work with you, and you ****ed away this entire year. You’re not dropping out Lyra.” Amelia said with a heavy sigh. Lyra only scoffed at her.

“It’s not your decision!” 

“I’m still your mother, and since you can’t make a good decision worth a **** you aren’t going to be getting a choice!”

“I make plenty of good choices!”

“Name one.” Amelia shouted, glaring at her daughter. Seconds ticked heavily as she waited for a response. Lyra was surprised to find herself searching for an answer – something that’d really shut her mom up. After what felt like an eon, Amelia let out another sigh. “I didn’t think so.”

“No? I know a pretty good one! How about me leaving right now? That sounds like a good decision!”

“Leave? And go where. School? You’re suspended. Work? Oh--! That’s right, you don’t have a job. That leaves friends, which, according to their mothers, you’ve stopped talking to. So where are you going to run Lyra? Jake’s? I saw his texts; that boy cares about you about as much as you care about school.”

She gaped at her mom, feeling offended. “You read my texts?!”

“Yes, I did. You don’t have a right to privacy, Lyra. I gave you privacy and you abused it.”

“That’s bull!” She spat, her hands starting to shake with rage. She wanted so badly to just reach out – to push her hand across her mom’s face…

She wasn’t sure what had happened, but Amelia held her hand to her cheek, her own face turning red. Before she had time to think, her mom had slapped her across the face and started screaming obscenities, cursing like a mad woman. Lyra’s hand flew to her cheek, mirroring her mom. About the only thing Lyra was able to understand in her mom’s outrage was “go to your room!” And so, Lyra bolted. 

As she ran, tears started falling. Had her mom just hit her? She flung herself onto her bed, sobbing freely as she pulled a pillow to her belly, hugging it tightly. She kicked and punched her mattress until the sting started to subside in her cheek. She yelled everything that came to her mind – she called her mom a *****, called her a horrible human being, told her she hated her repeatedly. She rolled around, screaming in agony as her heart began to break. Her face didn’t hurt so much anymore, but her soul did. She didn’t seem to be able to stop crying, either. 

By the time her tears finally slowed and she was down to sniffing every once in a while, Lyra felt like she had been shattered and drained of all of her emotion. She lay on her bed, her legs on the wall resting on the wall, staring up at her dad. “You wouldn’t hit me.” She said emptily, a hand moving up to smooth her cheek. It wasn’t even that tender. “You wouldn’t leave me alone to die. You wouldn’t let me fail school so bad. I wish it had been mom who died, Dad.” She whimpered, rolling onto her side. She was surprised to see her mom in the door holding an ice pack to her eye. Lyra barely registered her mom’s presence before it began to sink in.

“M-mom.. I, I didn’t mean that..I’m sorry. Mom? Please, I didn’t mean it..” Lyra shouted as her mom quietly shook her head ‘no,’ and withdrew from the doorway. Instantly Lyra kicked herself, getting up from the bed, chasing after her. “Mom! Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry… Mommy!” Amelia didn’t respond as she went into the bathroom and gently shut the door, its handle rattling lightly. Amelia had locked it. Lyra sank to the floor, realizing that she was still hugging the pillow. Behind the door, it was obvious that Amelia was crying softly herself. Lyra could tell that her mom had heard at least a little of the conversation she’d had with her dad’s picture. Lyra’s heart hurt worse than before as she kicked herself again. 

She waited maybe ten minutes before deciding to give her mom some space. She drug herself from the floor and wandered out to the living room, holding her pillow. Her eggs and bacon were still sitting on the coffee table, next to the files. She opened the first one, plopping heavily on the couch. It was the letter from Mr. Wright her mom had told her about. Just like she had said, Mr. Wright expressed his condolences to Amelia about the loss of her husband and explained why he was so upset about the fact that Lyra had missed so much school and fallen so far behind. To her surprise, it really did say that she had been one of his favorite students, and that was part of what made him so upset. Flipping through all of the files, most of her teachers had said similar things. A few made mention of the fact that they hoped she’d come to her senses and begin to take education seriously. It was awkward for Lyra, to read so much concern from these people. She never would have guessed that she was so well liked by her teachers, especially since they hadn’t really seen her since her sophomore year. 

The last envelope in the stack was the thickest but didn’t look like it had been opened yet. She stared at it, curious. Maybe this envelope held her permanent record, maybe she could get Jake to edit it, and erase all of the bad stuff on there. Maybe that would work to make all of her problems go away… Just as she started to peel the metal prongs back, Amelia emerged from the hall. Her voice was shaky, but somehow firm too. “That envelope has a bunch of information packets, if you want to know.” 

“Information packets?”

“Yes. They’re for Troubled Youth and Teen programs. Mr. Hornsby wants you to attend one of them this summer.”

“What the hell is a ‘troubled youth and teen program’?” Lyra made no effort to hide her offense. “Do I look troubled to you?” Her mom only shrugged, glancing at the manila envelope and adjusting the ice pack. “What happened to your eye mom?”

“You punched me.” 

Lyra winced, dropping the envelope on the floor in surprise. “I didn’t punch you.”

“Well you did.” Without another word, her mom lowered the ice pack, revealing a kind of swollen eye and light bruise, the eye itself was really red. Lyra felt bad, wanting to rush forward and hug her mother. She didn’t know how she was going to make this up to her, or whether this would make her punishment worse. “I’m so sorry mom. I just… got mad, I guess. What you said about the privacy and all.”

“I haven’t looked at the packets Mr. Hornsby gave me.” Her mom was avoiding the conversation, “it’s going to have to wait. I’m already late to work as it is, but my boss knows what’s going on.” She couldn’t believe it – her mom was still going to go to work? Even after everything? How the hell was that supposed to happen? Lyra only nodded, not trusting herself to be able to speak without saying something else that would hurt her mom’s feelings or make her feel bad. 

There was so much Lyra had wanted to get from being suspended from school. Mostly, though, she just wanted to talk to her mom and get to know Amelia Michaelson again, like she had known her mom last August. Back before her dad had died. It wasn’t fair that her mom was going to go to some stupid job and expect Lyra just to sit at home, all alone, like she had done at the start of last September. “You are to stay in the house, Lyra. If I find out you’ve left, so help me god…” Amelia warned before retreating to get ready for work, leaving Lyra to her own devices. She leapt across the couch, snatching her mom’s purse and digging for her cell. When she found it she shot Jake a text. There was no way she was going to just stay home by herself, and the need for a smoke had gotten so bad that she could taste it in her mouth.

She had told him that she’d meet him at the Rusty Arbor Park, and not to respond because she was grounded from her phone and not supposed to be texting him anyway. After it sent, she deleted the text and put everything back, just in time for her mom to come back out, dressed up for work. Amelia hugged Lyra, only lightly, kissed her forehead and told her that she’d see her after work. She left without another word. Lyra felt worse, having been unable to hold on to her mom the way she wanted. _At least I’ll be able to see Jake_, she thought, cheering up a little. She had so much to tell him, and he’d give her a real hug. One of those tight, bear hugs that made her feel safe. She smiled to herself, her mood picking up a little.


----------



## NeryLibra

After an hour, Lyra trudged through the brisk weather of February up to the old playground. The park itself was only a fifteen minute drive from her house, but by foot it was more like a half-hour walk. She thought about what it meant to go to a “youth and troubled teen” camp. Probably it meant that you had a reputation that people heard about from their friends. Lyra had never really been a bad girl. Sure, she dated Jake, but she, herself, usually kept out of trouble. She had brought the manila envelope with her, even though it made her feel a little bad. She wanted to chat with Jake about it, see if maybe he had heard of such a thing and get his opinion. When she finally made it to the park, she was surprised to find it deserted. “Jake?” She called out, looking around the playground for movement or a response. She was met with silence. Frowning, she walked over to the swing set and took a seat. 
The Rusty Arbor Park was older, the footing was all sand and the equipment had little bits of rust, right at all of the places where the parts connected. Lyra guessed that the park had been built with the rest of the neighborhood, which her mom said had been “erected in the late fifties.” Whatever that meant. She set her backpack on the ground, digging through it for the folder. The envelope was thick, probably at least a couple inches she guessed, and heavy in her hand. The prong she had folded up earlier was still standing on end, and she started to peel back the other one.

“Hey babe.” His voice was music to her ears, the envelope instantly becoming an afterthought as she tossed it to the ground and ran over to him, throwing her arms around him and pressing a long kiss onto his lips. He laughed, hugging and kissing her back. “Missed ya!”

“It was the longest day and a half of my life Jake. I never knew I would miss you so bad.” Lyra whispered, hugging him even tighter. He squeezed her back, kissing random places on her head. They stood there for a while, just hugging. Lyra felt closer to Jake in this moment than she had ever felt before; and she knew, right then, that she had felt truly alone since the last time she had seen him. “Mom and I fought so much…she slapped me, Jake, it was so awful. And my teachers won’t work with me after all, and—and…”

“Shh,” He cooed, rubbing her back. “That’s rough babe, your mom is an awful person.”

“It was my fault.” Lyra whimpered, tears starting to form again. All she could do was hold on to him while she cried, but eventually she sniffed, the familiar, empty feeling creeping up on her. She didn’t want to agree with him about her mother. She had learned so much these last couple of days; she had seen what it cost to really be dating Jake. As she thought about it, she wished she was at home where she was supposed to be, rather than standing in the park with him.

“Hey, no babe. She shouldn’t have hit you – that’s why she’s an awful person. It’s not your fault she’s abusive. It’s not your fault.” He repeated. Lyra only nodded as she sniffed. He let go of her, pulling her chin to face him. “Lyly, it is not, your, fault.” He said, emphasizing each word. After a moment of staring into her eyes, he finally backed off. “You seem tense… would a cigarette help?”

Lyra nodded, instantly able to taste the menthol in her mouth. A burning sensation started in her lungs as the word rebounded in her mind. All she wanted in the world was a smoke right then, all of her other troubles forgotten as she waited for him to fish out the pack. “Mom wants me to go to some sort of summer camp.” She blurted while she waited, surprised that she decided to tell him right at that moment. He glanced up at her briefly, his hand still swirling the contents of his backpack.

“You’re not going, are you?”

“I don’t know… it’s called a “youth and troubled teen” program.”

“Huh…weird.”

“What, have you heard of something like that?” Lyra asked, excitement filling her stomach. Maybe he’d be able to give her the answer she wanted so badly.

“What? Oh, no… well, I mean I’ve heard of them. I just can’t find my smokes.” 

The words hung between them as Lyra came crashing down from her excitement. That was all he had to say about the programs, was that he’d heard of them? A part of her had hoped that he’d be excited with her, or maybe even help her pick out a camp. She found herself actually wanting to go, which she hadn’t been aware of earlier. “Oh..” she said flatly, her craving for the cigarette dwindling. “Well that’s ok.”

“What’s wrong?” Jake asked, straightening up from his crouch. Lyra only shook her head ‘no.’ “You have to talk hon; I don’t know what you’re thinkin’!” He said, poking her in the ribs. Lyra only pushed his hand away.

“Nothing… it’s just, I wanted to see if you’d heard about the programs, so I could… maybe I could make up my mind over whether I should go to one or not.”

“Well…” Jake said, pausing as he watched some traffic drive by. He looked like he was thinking. “Do you want to go?”

“Well kind of. I don’t really know… my mom and I haven’t really talked about it. I haven’t heard of something like it before either.”

“You wouldn’t be able to do anything you wanted all summer. And you wouldn’t be able to see me. Don’t you want to see me?”

“Of course I do Jake! I, I love you… but it does sound interesting.”

“All those programs do is take in basket cases, usually hopeless kids like what D used to be, remember D, at the parlor? Yeah, him.” Jake said as Lyra nodded, “they just try to force kids to be good and act like society wants them to. They don’t really fix nothing though. Lots of kids call those programs the “last ditch effort” camps.”

_That’s all? _Lyra thought, feeling put-off. She shrugged. “Maybe I won’t go then.” This earned her favorite of Jake’s smile as he kissed her cheek.

“Besides, this way, we can stay together!” He sounded so happy. Lyra wished she felt the same. Rather than feeling happy, Lyra felt dismayed. The prospect of going to a summer camp had so suddenly become exciting; more and more, she was feeling the pull of a summer doing something other than being at home. Alone. Waiting for her mom to get off work or Jake to text her. It would have been her first real summer camp experience too, her parents had never had the money to send her to one before. She really wanted to be with Jake, though. He made it sound like they’d have to break up if she went. She looked at him, his eyes shining lightly in the mid-winter sun. They looked so light the way that he was looking at her. She smiled, feeling that if she was going to have to choose, she’d rather have her long-term boyfriend than a few months away from home.

“Yeah.” She said, ignoring the voice in the back of her mind that told her they were both wrong.

Jake and her hung out at the park for a while; he told her that a friend of D’s friend had found him a job with one of his friends, and that the work would pay really good. “We’ll even be able to get our own place!” he had said, making Lyra feel strange. She hadn’t even thought about moving out, and the talk about D made Lyra think about her conversation with Joey.

“Hey… what was up at the tattoo parlor anyway?” She finally asked as she pumped her legs to get the swing moving higher.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you made me lie about my age and name, and your friends didn’t even know your real info. And you acted really weird, it was like you weren’t even Jake anymore… it was kind of scary.”

“Well babe, that’s the thing about having a street identity and the hookups you need to get free stuff out there. No one gets to know your real name, not even your friends.”

“But why? If you have to lie they can’t really be your friends.”

“The streets can be dangerous, Lyly. I just wanted to keep you safe. Some of the guys at that parlor that hang out with D aren’t the superhero type. They’re more like Scar, from the Lion King.”

“So why hang out with them? If they’re Scar, aren’t you Mufasa or something?”

Jake laughed at that, kicking off the ground and swinging even higher than Lyra was. “I guess so babe, I guess so. But you trust me, I ain’t gonna let anything happen. Because I love you too.”

Lyra didn’t know what to say in response to him; but the fact that he told her he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her scared her and made her think of Megan…

“Hey Jake?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened to Megan? Joey’s kid?”

Instantly, Jake drug his feet through the sand and brought the swing to a stop as he stared her down. “Who told you about her?”

Lyra only shrugged, kicking her feet forward. Jake grabbed the chain, jerking the swing back around as it tried to swing forward. She gripped the swing tightly as Jake stopped her, the swing resisting the sudden movement, threatening to dump Lyra out when she was high above the ground. “I asked you a question Lyra.” He said as the swing finally stilled. Anger flared in her as she quickly rose from her seat. 

“What the hell Jake? I could have fallen out and broken my leg or something!”

“I don’t care. Who, the ****, told you about Megan?”

“You don’t care? You don’t care that you could have sent me to the hospital?”

“Lyra, I’m not kidding here. Who told you about her?” Jake was almost screaming now, and he wouldn’t let go of the swing. Lyra glared at him, turning to march away from him. His anger was confusing her, and making her mad too. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore. When she was jerked back into him, she was surprised. When she looked down, she saw that he was holding her arm.

“Let go!” She shouted, jerking her arm away. He wouldn’t budge. “Jake!” She shouted again, her voice getting shrill, “you’re hurting my arm!”

“Just tell me!” Jake shouted back, his grip lightening up only slightly. “Tell me and I’ll let you go!”

“Ok, ok…” Lyra said; fear filled her stomach as she started to panic, she tried jerking her arm from his grip. “Joey did! Alright? Joey told me about his kid.”

“Oh.” Jake said flatly as he let go of Lyra. “Sorry…”

Lyra pulled away quickly from him, rubbing her arm. She looked at it, surprised to see purple imprints of Jake’s nails where he had been holding her. Tears sprang to her eyes as her arm started to throb. “What the hell Jake?” She whispered, sinking to the ground as she hugged herself.

Whatever had gotten into had gone as quickly as it came as he snapped out of it, sinking down to the ground with her. “Oh my god Lyly, I am so.. so sorry babe. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Lyra glared at him, his words sounding familiar. She had heard them before... the intense throbbing subsided and was replaced with an ache as she thought about the words. It dawned on her that she had said the exact same thing to her mom that morning, over four hours ago. “What happened Jake, why did you do that?”

“Talking about Megan ****es me off is all.”

“Why would that **** you off, it was just an honest question..” Lyra said uneasily, still holding her arm. Jake only shrugged. “Well you had better tell me what happened if it makes you so mad. You owe me that.”

Jake nodded, taking a deep breath. His street-style personality started to shine through. “Megan was this girl that dated a kid named Crush. She was goody-two shoes, even though Joey was in the streets deep. She was a good girl, ‘til she met Crush. Crush was a dealer. Not the normal, low-end type that teens usually are, either. He knew how to work the streets better than a lotta the older guys do. Normally he ditched school, but just for the hell of it, he decided to go back for a change. He met Megan there, accordin to the story, Megan caught his heart faster than little kids catch pink eye. Only problem was Crush didn’t like the good girls. So he did his best to turn Megan.” 

“What happened?”

“Crush brought Meg on one of his drug runs. It ended badly, and she got shot. It was sad for everyone, and Crush is in jail now ‘cause of it. But she had started turning into like.. a younger version of Crush. She was picking up the streets better than most kids do. Must have been in her blood since Joey was one of the big guys when he was younger. Most dudes leave Joey alone, he was so bad ***.”

“Did she…. Did she die?”

“I’m pretty sure she did. Joey doesn’t talk about her much these days, just stares at his tattoo.”

Lyra rubbed her arm, her fingers tracing around the nail marks. Anger bubbled in her stomach as she considered how tightly Jake had been gripping her arm in the first place. Quietly, she rose from the sand and grabbed her packet from where she left it. Jake stayed sitting, watching her. “Why the hell would some girl’s story **** you off so bad you had to hold me so tight?”

“Because I don’t want you to be scared Lyly.”

“Yeah, too late for that. Jerk.” 

“Babe, it’s not easy to watch you cower because of something people do.”

“I do not cower!”
“You do babe, and that’s ok! I just don’t want you to be scared, that’s all.”

“You already said that.” Lyra grumbled, jamming the envelope in her backpack. Jake surprised her by pulling her into a hug from behind and kissing her cheek. 

“I really am sorry babe, it won’t ever happen again.”

“Right… Jake, look. I don’t know if I’m going to go to the camp or not. But my mom has my phone and I’m grounded for a really long time. So I’m not gonna text you, ok?”

“So where does that leave me?” 

“Well, just hang out I guess. I’ll text you when I get my phone back.”

“What the hell Lyra?”

“Yeah. Just pretend like we’re taking a break, ok? I don’t want to get in more trouble than I’m already in. And I really don’t like that my arm’s gonna bruise.” Abruptly, Jake’s arms dropped from her belly and he backed away from her quickly.

“I said I was sorry. Isn’t that enough?” 

“Not really. I’m not mad I just don’t want to talk Jake. And I gotta go home. I’ll text you when I get my phone back.”

“You’d better not start dating anyone else…” Jake’s mumble was something Lyra had barely heard, but the tone of it sent chills down her spine. She looked at him.

“What?”

“I said I love you. Text me when you get your phone back.”

Lyra hesitated as she shouldered her backpack, something feeling off as she turned to leave. Something in the back of her mind made her think that something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. The hiss-like tone in Jake’s voice had put her on edge as she decided to take the long, twisty way home. She was suddenly very happy that he didn’t know where she lived, but she wasn’t sure why.


----------



## Change

Keep going!


----------



## Greenmeadows

Can not wait to read more!


----------



## NeryLibra

I re-wrote this next scene maybe seven times total and still just can't make it read the way I want it to. Rather than sweating it, I figure, for now, it'll have to work as a means to simply reaching an end. Maybe one day, I'll be able to edit it and actually make it decent. I have to remind myself that if it were being published, it would undergo far more vigorous editing than what I'm capable of; though I do edit it a bit before posting here. (and still am finding flaws as I read it back to myself! Ugh, where's that red pen when you need it?) and know that if I become too nit-picky right now, I won't even try to finish the story.


This is where I have to say thank you guys for the support here on the forum; if it wasn't for knowing that there's some folks actually reading and enjoying it, I would have deleted it already. I really do appreciate all of your support and likes. 


Fun fact: we're 18k words and 45 pages in.




Lyra had been home barely ten minutes, icing her arm, before her mom walked in the door. Her eye looked better, but still swollen and red, than it had that morning. Lyra panicked, quickly tossing the frozen peas on the second shelf of the coffee table before her mom had a chance to really get a look at her.

“I’m happy you’re home.” Amelia said, looking Lyra up and down. 

“Mom, I am so, so sorry about this morning, and hitting you, and wishing you had died, and failing at school… and…”

“Lyra, stop.” Amelia said, cutting Lyra off before she could mention anything else. “I understand that this morning was tense.”

“I honestly don’t remember hitting you.” Lyra pouted, a dull aching sensation returning to her arm as the nail marks lost their numbness. Though the larger area of her arm hadn’t really hurt since a few minutes after Jake let go, the parts where his nails had dug in had been throbbing almost all afternoon. Amelia’s face told Lyra that she still wasn’t forgiven. Suddenly, a ghost of pain flared up in her cheek, where her mom had slapped her. It was almost like Lyra had been mentally slapped.

“That doesn’t make it ok, it doesn’t make it acceptable, and it doesn’t make it forgivable. Just for it, I’ve decided to keep your phone for another month.”

“What?!” Lyra shouted, forcing herself to shove her hands under her butt before she could even think about hitting Amelia again. 

“I feel it’s fair. Other countries would have had your hand broken for hitting someone, especially your own mother.” Silence pressed between them as her mom let what she had said sink in. Lyra knew that hitting your mother, or anyone really, but especially your mother, was one of the lowest things you could do. Guilt flooded the anger that had been consuming her mind as she forced herself to really look at her mother’s black eye. She had done that. She was responsible for that, and she forced herself to accept that two months without her phone was fair. “Your dad would have spanked your butt, you know. He was very keen on spanking, especially for truly bad behavior. I always thought it was nicer than what he and I both got when we grew up.”

Lyra forced herself to nod rather than argue with her mother about how her dad would have punished her. She knew better than to believe that her daddy would really put his hands on her like that. Under her bum, her fist clenched. She was starting to feel the need for a cigarette again too. Amelia sighed.

“Have you looked at the information packets at all?”

“No…” Lyra said, looking guiltily at her backpack. “I just kind of had a break down again after you left. I haven’t really been up since then.”

“Well that explains the breakfast plate.” Her mom sighed, clearing the coffee table and going into the kitchen. 

The rest of the night had gone quietly for the girls. Neither of them had much to say to each other, though her mom occasionally iced her eye. Lyra thought a lot about Jake, and whatever it was he had tried to say to her before she had left the park. Something about it gave her the chills, and the memory of the sound was enough to make Lyra’s arm hurt all over. She dug through her backpack and put the manila envelope back on the coffee table before she went to bed, something in her gut telling her that her mom was going to be looking at the information packets after Lyra left. She also returned the now-mushy peas to the freezer before she drug herself back to her room.

Instinctively, she tried to shut the door behind her as she stared at the picture of her and her dad at the beach. Bright blue water beckoned behind them as they perfected the top of a sandcastle, her dad’s eyes matching the Caribbean water, and twinkling with happiness. The smiles on their faces were genuine, and happy. For the millionth time, Lyra wished she was back in that moment. Then she remembered that she was trying to shut a door that was no longer in its frame. She sighed heavily, crawling onto her bed and pulling the cover over her. It was going to be a long night. And it was. Lyra found herself constantly thinking about Megan and Joey, and the way Jake had behaved when Lyra asked about her. She wondered whether she should actually dump Jake. At some point, she decided, she was going to have to go back to the parlor and finish that conversation with Joey. Maybe he’d be willing to tell her what happened…

Lyra woke with a start. She had been being chased by a mountain lion through a meadow in the mountains, somewhere she had never been before. Right before she had made it into a little cabin to safety, the cougar caught her leg, giving it a good slash. The adrenaline had kicked her straight out of sleep mode, her heart pounding in her ears as she sat straight up, looking all around her room for the big cat. As she thought about it, she remembered a voice from the distance of her dream. It had said something about running while she could, getting away. Running faster, being smarter, and thinking harder. _Jake…_ Lyra thought to herself, longing for one of his hugs. 

When she finally made it out to the living room, she was surprised to see her mom lounging on the couch, reading from a pamphlet with a giant basketball on the cover. It was quiet, which Lyra found odd. Usually her mom listened to music, or watched the morning news. Today, the only sound was the shuffle of paper and the coffee brewing in the kitchen. “I really hope you’ll consider one of these honey.” Amelia said, “they all sound wonderful.”

Lyra wasn’t sure what to say, so she walked to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. As she was layering sugar and milk into the mug, Amelia kept talking. “There’s all sorts of programs Lyra – they even have a horse one! You like horses. They offer student counseling, something called Equivalent Education or something like that, a progress tracker... Apparently you get work with horses or something too!” 

“I told you I’m not freaking troubled!” Lyra scoffed. “And I liked horses when I was like, five. They’re for little kids.”

“Well, you don’t have to go to the horse one. There’s basketball, a NASA space one, apparently something like a Spa one… all of them talk about-“

“I don’t care!” Lyra shouted. “I’m not just some stupid basket case mom. Those camps are for lost causes. Kids only go there because their parents don’t know what else to do. It’s not like the camps actually help.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“What? So I’m just a lost cause to you?”

“No honey, you’re not. But that doesn’t mean I know what to do. When Mr. Hornsby and I discussed the possibility of you even going back to school next year, he was very clear that it hinged solely on your decision when it came to these camps.”

“So what the heck are you saying mom?” Lyra shouted, not knowing how else to act. She didn’t want to yell, but volume was the only thing that she seemed capable of producing. “That if I don’t go to one of your stupid camps I can’t graduate?”

Amelia sighed, and Lyra could hear her get off the couch and shuffle toward the kitchen herself. “That is how Mr. Hornsby made it sound, dear.” She couldn’t believe her ears, and she wanted to throw something. Anything. The mug suddenly weighed heavily in her hand as she thought about shattering it against the far wall, the one that lead to the garage. She had always hated how that wall looked anyway. It was white, like everywhere else in the house, but in the right light it looked like there was something under the surface, trying to come through. Just as she was getting ready to hurl it, her mom appeared in the doorway and she caught sight of the swollen eye. She set the mug down instead.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Lyra asked quietly, “How come only you got to know that I have to do some stupid camp?”

“Well, one. I’m your mother. And two? Your behavior isn’t something he wanted to deal with. You’ve developed quite the attitude, honey. No one likes to talk to explosive people.”

Lyra thought about what her mom had said, trying to remember what had happened in the meeting yesterday. She didn’t think there was anything too seriously bad about how she had behaved. But then she remembered yelling at Mr. Wright, and Mr. O’Hara having to shuffle him out of the room. “Oh.” 

“Whether you like it or not you have to consider doing something. Now, we talked extensively about the programs that offered summer school, or at least summer education. That horse one really sounded fun…”

“I told you, horses are for little kids. Do I look like a little kid to you?”

“You could try the basketball one then.” Her mom said, sighing heavily. “Or you could come look at the packets yourself.” Amelia’s attention shifted straight to Lyra’s arm, “honey! What happened to your arm?!”

For the first time that morning, Lyra looked at her arm, and was surprised to see a pretty big purple bruise over where his nail imprints had been. _I’m so dead if she finds out._ She thought to herself, her opposite hand quickly moving to defend it. “Nothing. I just felt so bad yesterday, so I kind of…”

“What? You kind of what?”

“Well I took it out on myself…?” Lyra said, kicking herself at the stupidity of her words. There was no way her mom would buy that. “I know, it’s stupid.” She added quickly. Her mom sighed, disbelief flashing across her face.

“I wish you hadn’t done that. That bruise is huge! How did you even manage to get yourself to the point it’d bruise that bad, it must have hurt really bad.”

“Yeah… I think I’ll look at those packets now.” Lyra said, happy she had an excuse to leave her mom’s presence; behind her, her mom said something she couldn’t really hear. As she made her way back to the couch, she saw that the Basketball and Horse packets were sitting side by side. The little girl in her made her reach for the horse one first. A pale yellow horse was on the cover, with a big saddle that had some sort of grabby-thing in the front on it. A rusty part of her memory itched at the name of the horse’s color and what kind of saddle it was. Something that, when hen she was younger, she would have known in a second. _Horse Camp for Troubled Teens: Teaching them to look beyond themselves._

_The Bureau of Land Management, BLM, and Two Bar T ranch have worked for the last fifteen years to pair troubled teens and wild horses together for a truly touching and educational experience. Teens have the opportunity to work with, and ride, fully-trained American Mustangs throughout their stay. And depending on their experience and growth, students may also be invited to work with the less experienced, or green, horses on the farm. Through these magnificent animals, we teach our students to appreciate what it means to control themselves, as well as how to control the actions of a 1,000lb animal, with the help of one of our esteemed trainers. _

_Two Bar T is a family owned ranch, consisting of over six-hundred acres of privately owned land and facilities. Specializing in breeding and selling the American Quarter Horse for well over three decades, owner, Adam Ritterick and his wife, decided to attend a BLM adoption event where they were touched by the beauty and behavior of the wild horse. With enough room to spare, the couple decided to adopt ten of the horses they saw at auction. At first, the intention was to allow their new herd to roam a quiet corner of their property, wild as the day they were caught but protected by the fact that they were owned. It wasn’t until their daughter, Hannah, a troubled teen at the time, took a shine to the Palomino now named “Wild Blaze” that they realized horses and teens could work to overcome their learning difficulties together. Through her work with Wild Blaze, Hannah began to learn how to control her actions as well as how her behavior affected other people and animals. She began to learn responsibility as she was expected to be the sole provider of Wild Blaze’s food, water, and, with the help of her dad, his training, as well._

_The impressive change that overcame Hannah led Adam and Penny to wonder if these majestic animals could help other children in need. Through their curiosity, the Troubled Teen program was born. Since its inception, Two Bar T’s Troubled Teen camp has helped over 300 students get their lives back on track, and has grown from a simple summer camp to a year round facility that boasts tutors, the ability to work with any curriculum provided to them and an impressive track record. Their herd of 10 American Mustangs has quadrupled in size since then. Adam and Penny have dedicated their lives not only to saving the lives of these horses, but also to saving the lives of the teens and youth they work with. _


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## Change

Congratulations on reaching 18K! That's impressive. It sure doesn't feel like I've read that much - which is a Very Good Thing! You've hooked me and pulled me in.

Don't worry about doing a lot of editing at this point; the goal is to get the entire story out of your head and onto paper. 1st and 2nd read-throughs are when the heavy lifting (editing) takes place.

And if it helps you finish the tale, I'm dying to hear what happens next! Keep it coming!


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## Greenmeadows

Change said:


> And if it helps you finish the tale, I'm dying to hear what happens next! Keep it coming!


Same here! Do not stop!


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## Twalker

Keep the story going. I love it.


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## NeryLibra

I shall keep on keeping on then! Things have really picked up around here, so I haven't had a whole lot of time to sit down and actually figure out what Lyra wants to share, though we're getting closer. 



Lyra’s interest was piqued as she looked at the pictures. There were kids riding horses, smiling by them, there was one of a few kids sitting on a circle fence while some guy stood in the middle of the thing, a horse running around him. It sounded really interesting, but she didn’t want to admit to being a troubled teen. She glanced at the basketball packet, not even feeling interested in picking it up. She wondered how it’d work, her working with a tutor and getting some horse. As she flipped through it, she finally found a list of programs. There was a four week, three-month, a six-month, a year program. The prices next to each program made Lyra’s jaw drop.

“Mom!” Lyra shouted, “how can we afford these camps if we’re so broke?!” Anger swelled in her that her mom would even consider a camp so expensive right after fighting to prove that she was right about needing to have both jobs just to pay the stupid mortgage and get them food. Did her mom really think Lyra was that stupid? Of course. Amelia didn’t realize that Lyra knew how little her mother cared about her. The two jobs thing had to just be a cover for her to get away from Lyra. She threw the packet across the room, grabbing the other ones on the table. All of them were about the same price point. She slammed a fist on the coffee table, the glass rattling. _Your mom’s an awful person._ Jake’s words reverberated in her mind. The thought made her even more upset as she dumped the rest of the files onto the floor. Lyra scrambled over the table, tearing at the paper heartily as she growled words. Stupid. Her mother was stupid, that’s what it was all about. Of course she’d lie about the money…

“What is wrong with you Lyra?” Amelia shouted, snapping Lyra out of her rampage. She watched Amelia’s eyes land on the mess of paperwork. “Why are you tearing up the information packets?!”

Lyra blinked for a moment as she shot off of the floor, trying to remember when her mom had appeared and when she had started destroying the information packets. It didn’t make sense; she was reading the files, and the prices, and suddenly she had felt very angry... It was another lie. “I didn’t tear up the packets, mother.” She spat, her fists clenching as she thought back to the lesson Jake had given her in throwing a good punch. Close the fist and lay the thumb over the rest of the fingers. Follow through with your weight. 

A small voice in the back of her mind reminded Lyra to look into her mother’s eyes. She wasn’t sure why, until the black eye came into view. Lyra sank back to the floor as the emotions from the day before came flooding back. She couldn’t remember hitting her mom, either, just like she couldn’t remember tearing up the paperwork. But she knew that her mom wasn’t the type to give herself a black eye just to make Lyra feel bad. She wanted to cry again, “I-I’m sorry mom…”

“Lyra, you need help.” Amelia growled, moving over to pick up the mess Lyra had made. She sorted it out, setting the mess back on the coffee table before she retreated to the kitchen. “And whether you like it or not, you are classified as a troubled teen.”
Lyra didn’t like it, at all. She wasn’t troubled, she was just mad. Her eyes fell back to the information packets, the spa one was on top of the stack. She sighed grumpily as she returned to the couch and dug through the pile for the horse packet again, flipping back to the program descriptions and prices page. It looked like the one month packet only really got kids away from the home for long enough to cool down before returning them home. It was the cheapest too, considering the year-long program cost just under twenty grand. She could handle that, a month away from home. She was grounded anyway, so it wasn’t like she’d be missing out on too much. Jake knew that it’d be a while before he heard from her again.

“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad, this horse thing.” Lyra said as her mom came back into the room.

“Well alright then. Have you read them all?” Amelia asked frankly, sinking into the lounge chair across the room her, resting the ice on her shin.

“Yeah.”

“Were you asking about money or something before you freaked out?”

“I just don’t get it. You’re working two jobs just so we can keep the stupid house. None of the camp things are cheap mom…”

“I’ll figure something out. I’ll pick up more shifts if I have to.”

“Well… at least a month isn’t so bad. It’s only 1500.”

“Honey, you’re not going for only one month.”

“What… do you mean? We can’t afford more than that and I refuse to do longer at some stupid camp!”

“Well honey, Mr. Hornsby advised you go for a three month stay.” Three months? That didn’t sound right, or even appealing. There was nothing good about being away from home that long.

“We talked about it in our meeting the other day. You’d be sent there with the curriculum for Mr. Wright’s class as they have an open English tutor. In three months, you’d be expected to complete the first semester of English. When you come back, you’d be shifted right into the second semester of that class at summer school. But you’d be caught up with the rest of your class in terms of English…”

“Mr. Wright said he’d fail me.” Lyra mumbled flatly, focusing her attention on the three month description. It said something about students delving further into their responsibilities and horse education. It sounded dreary and awful. She didn’t want responsibilities. It wasn’t like she had done a good job with the responsibilities she had so far, anyway.

“Well, it’s all the more reason to go. Mr. Wright would only be in charge of your education at summer school. If your tutor makes mention of noted growth and you can turn in some good work, Mr. Hornsby is confident that you’ll be able to prove your worth to Mr. Write, and he thinks that you’ll be able to pass because of it.”

“What if I don’t? What if my tutor thinks I suck just as much as Mr. Wright does?”

“You don’t suck, Lyra. And if you would just shape up, and stop acting like some little girl, you’d find that many people actually like you! If you’re worried about working with Mr. Wright, we could always consider the six month program… the only work he’d have to grade from you would be the stay log.”

“I’m not going to that stupid camp for six months mom!” Lyra shouted, slamming her fist on the couch. Amelia jumped slightly as she sighed, the sound pressing a heavy silence in the room. Lyra knew that her mom was probably plotting to send her to the camp for six months, regardless of what she thought or felt, but it hurt her feelings all the same. She glanced at the six month package, dismayed to find that it talked about even more responsibilities and hands-on horse time. For the place including summer school tutors, the pamphlet didn’t really seem to talk about education that much. “Besides,” she said, feeling like she had found something her mom had missed, “this thing doesn’t even talk about school stuff. Only horses and responsibility, and we all know how bad I am at chores!”

“Did you even read the entire package, Lyra?” The question caught her off guard as she frantically flipped through the book, finding an entire section dedicated to summer school programs. Sure enough, it mentioned that each student could have up to two summer school semesters in a three-month period, though it was never recommended to go beyond that due to the amount of work entailed and the limit of the tutors the camp provided. 

_Students enrolled in the Parallel Education program will be given three months to complete a semester’s worth of work in up to two courses. Throughout their enrollment, students will be paired with a certified tutor to complete their coursework to the satisfactory grade of either 90% or 80%. The minimum requirement for students to participate in the equine portion of the Troubled Youth camp would be the equivalent of a C-, or between below 75% and 69%. All of our tutors will work in conjunction with your child’s primary education giver to ensure proper grading methods, as well as to keep their teachers up-to-date on the progress made in the Two Bar T classroom…_

Lyra stared absently at the page, unable to read any more. The page went on to talk about encouraging responsibility in students and the fact that they only had so many tutors that were students themselves or something. She sighed after a moment. “You really want me to do some _parallel education_ thing mom? Do you think… do you think it’ll really work?”

“Well, Mr. Hornsby said he’s seen some real transformations. He said the counselors really helped the kids he’s sent before. And like I said, it seemed pretty clear that your future at that school is riding on this decision of yours honey. It seemed like either you go through with this, or we’ll have to find you a different school..if we can…”

“Well maybe I should do a different freaking school!” 

“Honey…”

“What mom? Those teachers all hate me anyway, both Mr. Hornsby and Mr. Wright said it, and I know that Mr. O’Hara was thinking about it. Why should I bust my butt just to go back to some place that doesn’t want me around anyway?”

“Because, they’re—“

“I still don’t care! Mr. Wright is an ***, and I don’t want to see him ever again, and I just…”

“Lyra Leann Michaelson, I have had just about enough!” Amelia snapped, her sudden anger immediately forcing Lyra to shut her mouth, not knowing how to respond. “Now you need to listen to me. Your attitude these last few days, your behavior, and especially you actions, have tried my patience. And I’ve had it up to *here* with you.” Her mom’s hand bounced a couple times just below the top of her head to show how far she had had it.

“You’re not enrolling in another school. You’re not running away from the mess *you* created. And you’re not dropping out. Whether you choose to believe it or not, both Mr. Hornsby and Mr. Wright suggested this camp out of their care for you and their desire to see you succeed. It was Mr. Wright’s idea that you even look into a Troubled Youth and Teen camp, about all Mr. Hornsby did was enforce and back it up!”

“But mom, I—“

“I don’t want to hear it, Lyra . I’m enrolling you.” Amelia growled, getting up from the couch, stooping to grab some loose paper from the floor. “Prices schmrices.”


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## Change

Don't you *dare *stop now!



Loving it. (BTW - you have Mr. Write vs Mr. Wright up there, about midway...)


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## Luce73

Just binge-read the whole thing!! When's the next chapter coming?


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## EmberScarlet

This is GR EA T!


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## JoBlueQuarter

Please do keep going!


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