Author's note: Thanks for all you kind words. I was surprised by how many of you were interested in this story. Here is the second chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint. :) JD.
**********
The car ride was painfully quiet as we made our way toward my high school. My father was driving and to say he wasn't happy with me was a vast understatement. Mom was sitting next to him and looked like she hadn't slept much at all last night. I knew they were worried about me and I could certainly see why.
I skipped school and football practice the day before, something I never did. I didn't get home until late and I smelled of alcohol when I finally did show up. Oh yeah, I also forgot to bring pop's car home. He lent it to me for the first day of my senior year.
I'm sure my reaction when I walked in didn't help. I think I stood there with a stupid grin on my face the whole time they lectured me. I was so happy to see them that I could barely follow what they were saying. In the middle of my father's rant I hugged him. Mom was next. She returned my embrace better than pop did, but was obviously concerned.
They sent me to my room afterward saying that talking anymore would be pointless until I sobered up. I wasn't really drunk, but I could see why they thought so. To them I was an eighteen year old who'd skipped school and gotten drunk. To me I was a man older than they were who was getting a chance to see his parents alive and healthy, something that hadn't been true for years.
"Where is my car?" my father asked. I frowned for a moment and then pointed vaguely in one direction. I was pretty sure the senior parking lot was that way and I assumed that's where I parked.
As it turns out, pop's car wasn't hard to spot. You weren't supposed to leave your vehicle in the senior parking lot overnight. The school placed a large orange sticker on the driver's side window to remind you of that when you did. I groaned as memories of what it took to get the sticker off returned. Soap, water, a razor blade and a lot patience.
"I'll take care of that when I get home tonight," I said quickly. My father just shook his head, his expression reminding me of our conversation this morning. He made it clear that what happened the day before was unacceptable. He also made sure I knew how disappointed he was in me.
Now here's the funny part. Despite me actually being older than him and the fact that his judgment was unfair because he had no idea what I was going through, I felt surprisingly guilty. I shook my head and fought off a smile. He wouldn't understand.
"I love you pop," I said suddenly. "You too mom."
"We love you too," my mother said. My father nodded in agreement, but I could see the concern. I guess back when I was eighteen I didn't express my feeling for them particularly well.
'Sounds like an eighteen year old,' I thought, remembering my sister's Becky at that age as we pulled over. My father and I got out of the car.
"No more skipping school," my father said pointedly. I nodded in agreement. I was tempted to hug him again, but I knew it wouldn't go well. Pop was from a generation when men were men and they did not hug each other.
"Where is my kiss goodbye?" mom asked both of us. My father rolled his eyes, but than turned and kissed mom. I watched them and smiled, oddly content on a level it was hard to explain.
In my world pop had died of a heart attack years ago and mom was in a nursing home with Alzheimer's. For just a moment I forced the thought of what lay ahead of them aside. They were my parents and to see them together and in love like this was a dream come true.
'Okay, maybe being thrown back in time to relive high school wasn't a complete bust,' I thought. On the other hand, when the knowledge of what was to come crept back into my head my joy turned bitter sweet.
"Hey Simmons!" someone called. I turned toward the voice. It was Jimmy something or other. I couldn't remember his last name, but hell, I was happy I even came up with the first. He was a friend back in high school, but not a close one.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"Coach is mad as hell at you. He said..." Jimmy began, but then stopped when he saw my parents.
"Don't worry son," my father said. "We already know John skipped school yesterday." Jimmy's look apologized for bringing up the coach in front of my parents. I shrugged.
"What did he say?" I asked.
"Coach was ranting when you didn't show up for practice yesterday," Jimmy said. "Someone told him you skipped."
"Who?" I asked.
"Who do you think?" he asked rhetorically. "Brian."
It took me a second to remember who he was talking about. Brian Jacobs was the kid who wanted my position. He was the kid who got it after I blew my knee out in the third game of the season.
"Expect to run at practice," Jimmy said. "A lot."
"Great," I sighed.
"I'll see you later," Jimmy said, nodding toward my parents respectfully and moving away.
"Take whatever the coach gives you like a man," my father said as he moved to his car. "Don't do the crime, if you can't do the time."
"Gee, thanks dad," I sighed. I'd forgotten how he liked all those 'oh so helpful' sayings.
"We're not done talking about yesterday," he added pointedly as he started his car.
"I figured," I replied. "See you tonight."
"Goodbye," he said and drove off.
"Are you okay?" my mom asked as I watched pop's car leaving the parking lot. She had moved over to the driver's seat in her car.
"Sure," I answered, forcing a smile on my face.
"You're lying," she said, making me laugh.
Mom could always read me. I looked at her and couldn't stop myself from picturing the last time I saw her before this whole thing started. She hadn't even recognize me. The truly sad part was that happened more often than not. I felt my eyes tearing up, but I fought it.
"I will be," I said more honestly. "Yesterday was just an off day."
"I imagine so," my mom smiled.
"I'd better be going," I said, leaning in the window and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I don't want to be late for class."
"I'll see you tonight," she said. "I'm making your favorite, stew."
"Oh wow!" I cried excitedly. I hadn't had my mother's stew in decades. She was right. It was my favorite.
"You don't have to be that excited," she laughed. "I just made it a few weeks ago."