Ch 6
It has been a full week since I initially started my new running routine. Surprisingly, everybody at home was perfectly fine with this sudden change. Of course, everybody essentially just means Mom. The rest of the family does not really care what I choose to do with my mornings. My alarm clock goes off at exactly five in the morning. It is still completely dark outside when I lace up my running shoes and step out the front door to begin my daily training.
For the time being, I plan to keep my running route restricted to our immediate neighborhood. I am actively trying to familiarize myself with the quiet local streets and the surrounding suburban layouts. The nearest proper running track is located over at the high school, which sits a little over three miles away from our front porch.
I fully plan to transition my morning runs to that professional school track eventually. Right now, I just need to get my lungs and legs fully accustomed to this grueling physical exertion. Once my overall stamina naturally improves over the coming weeks, making that longer journey toward the school grounds will become my primary morning goal.
I have made it my personal daily aim to successfully complete a solid five miles before the sun fully rises. It is certainly not an easy task for a beginner. I frequently have to adjust my pace down to a heavy jog and take short breathing breaks in between the longer stretches of pavement.
Despite the physical struggle, I have consistently managed to complete the entire route. I always make sure to include a dedicated period for proper muscle stretching at the very end. Without fail, I manage to cool down and return to the house right around seven in the morning, feeling completely exhausted but highly accomplished.
Once I am back inside, I quickly shower and get completely ready for the school day in under fifteen minutes. I eat a large breakfast to replenish my energy before heading out to the truck with Dad. He has been particularly happy and highly encouraging regarding my recent positive lifestyle changes.
High school is mostly a boring, tedious affair for me now. The main problem is that I have already finished reading and fully comprehending the vast majority of the educational material they plan to teach this year, as well as the curriculum for the next three years. Sitting through the slow paced lectures is incredibly boring. God, I genuinely miss the internet and smartphones.
Because of this extreme boredom, I firmly plan to skip a few grades later this year. However, I have not actually gotten a proper chance to show off my advanced knowledge to the faculty just yet. There have been absolutely no major tests scheduled during these initial two weeks of the new fall semester.
Thankfully, there is a rather decent collection of advanced textbooks safely tucked away inside the school library. Accessing that wealth of knowledge is quite literally the only thing that actually motivates me to show up on campus nowadays. It provides the perfect escape from the mind numbing simplicity of the standard freshman curriculum.
I simply read whatever subject I want during most of my daily classes. I strategically sit in the very back row, ensuring I never bother the tired teachers while they lecture. If they happen to call on me, I always answer their questions correctly and politely, which keeps me completely off their disciplinary radar.
I possess an eidetic memory now. I can remember almost everything I read just once. Not to brag, but my overall comprehension and problem solving skills are currently sitting at a genius level.
Still, I do not just read everything blindly. I mostly prefer mathematics and physics related material, although I did take the time to learn the high school biology and chemistry curriculum as well. I quickly found that I am simply not as interested in those subjects compared to math and physics. However, reading them is still infinitely better than sitting there getting bored during the regular classes.
The teachers rarely call out for my direct attention anyway. Most of the time, Sheldon acts as the perfect academic shield for the rest of the classroom. He constantly bothers the teachers with his endless corrections and pedantic questions, draining their patience so thoroughly that they simply do not care what the quiet kids are doing in the back.
Honestly, what else can you possibly expect from an underfunded, crappy public high school situated right in the middle of East Texas? The exhausted staff just wants to survive the school day.
Personally, I am incredibly happy with this unspoken arrangement, as it allows me to study in absolute peace.
I have also started putting a bit more conscious effort into how I physically present myself and dress each morning.
The high school girls definitely notice the subtle improvements. One brave girl even tried to make up a flimsy excuse about needing urgent help with her math homework just to approach me and study together.
I helped her out, but I very politely refused her thinly veiled request to go out on a date. I definitely have a specific type of woman I find attractive, and she was really not it. Let us just diplomatically say that Debra was built like a flat highway road, and I have always been much more of a mountain guy.
Right after the final afternoon bell rings, I immediately pack up my bag and head straight back to the sanctuary of the school library. I spend the next few hours reading in absolute silence while waiting for my ride. I still go home with Dad in his truck, along with Georgie.
They always have to stay on campus for several extra hours because of the football practices. Dad has to run the rigorous defensive drills, and Georgie has to participate in the sweaty scrimmages. I use that valuable waiting period to dive deeper into college level material without any distracting interruptions.
Georgie and I share a very weird, unspoken brotherly connection that has existed forever. Despite our massive intellectual differences nowadays, he always makes a point to ask me if anyone at school is bothering me.
He makes it completely clear that if anyone gives me trouble, I just need to let him know and he will handle it. I doubt that but still the thought counts.
He generally minds his own teenage business most of the time, chasing girls and getting into typical high school trouble. However, I know for an absolute fact that he has my back in a crisis, and I definitely have his. He might be a bit dim academically, but his heart is firmly in the right place.
I also know he will eventually become a highly successful salesman from my future knowledge of the television show. He eventually opens a tire chain called Doctor Tire or something along those lines.
Because of that fierce brotherly loyalty, I happily let him copy my completed homework assignments whenever he gets truly desperate. I do not let him do it all the time, but I help him out sometimes to keep his grades afloat.
That long evening drive back home in the truck is honestly the only time I actually talk at length with Dad and Georgie. Most of the time, their loud conversation revolves entirely around football plays and defensive formations. However, sometimes it is just Dad offering gruff advice and teaching us how to be responsible young men.
Once I am finally back at home, Missy usually seeks me out nowadays. She recently started talking to me all about her elementary school drama after I patiently helped her out with her math homework a few times.
Missy is genuinely nice and wonderfully quirky in a way that is highly entertaining to observe. I also realized that she was not getting much attention at home with all the chaos, so I consciously decided to step up.
Mom already had entirely too much on her plate. I simply did not want my sister to feel lonely or neglected. Oh man, I am really getting mature nowadays.
I always make sure to let her have my personal share of the sweet candy that Meemaw frequently brings over to the house. That tiny, effortless sacrifice is more than enough to officially solidify my position as her absolute favorite brother in her personal dictionary. Besides, nowadays I try to avoid processed sugar as much as I possibly can anyway.
This evening, I was sitting at the kitchen table helping Missy with her homework yet again. I can clearly see that she is taking slight advantage of my willingness to help.
However, I genuinely do not mind spending the extra time with her. I let her have her little victories. Sometimes it makes her genuinely happy to think that she successfully outwitted me.
She swung her short legs under the wooden table and chewed loudly on the eraser of her yellow pencil. She stared down at the open workbook with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust. It was a simple page of fractions, but to her, it might as well have been written in ancient Greek.
"Charlie, this is completely stupid," Missy complained dramatically, dropping the chewed pencil onto the paper. "Why do I even need to know how to divide a pie into eight equal pieces? If I have a pie, I am just going to eat the whole thing myself."
"That is a very fair point," I replied smoothly, pulling the workbook slightly closer to me. "But what if Meemaw comes over and wants a piece of your pie? You have to know exactly how much to give her so you still keep the biggest slice for yourself without looking completely greedy."
Missy narrowed her eyes, seriously considering the logic. "Okay, that actually makes perfect sense," she finally agreed, picking the pencil back up. "So, if I give Meemaw two pieces, how many do I have left to hide under my bed before Georgie finds them?"
"Exactly," I said, tapping the paper gently. "Now you are thinking."
Later that evening, right as Mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner, the peaceful atmosphere of the house shattered. We suddenly heard Dad calling out to Mom from the other room, his voice tight and heavy with obvious pain.
"Mary, I need your help in here!"
Mom immediately dropped what she was doing and rushed down the hall to check on him. A few tense minutes later, she came back into the kitchen, looking worried but acting strong for us. She had just rushed Dad out the front door and made him sit comfortably in the passenger seat of the car.
"I am taking your dad to the hospital right now," Mom announced, trying to act cool but I could see through her act. "He is not feeling good at all. Your grandmother is on her way to take care of you. You all need to behave while I am not here."
"Mom, what is wrong with Dad? I want to come with you," I said, my tone growing completely serious the moment I heard her say he was unwell.
"Charlie, you stay right here and take care of your siblings. I will call as soon as I know something," Mom replied in a strict, commanding manner, absolutely refusing to take no for an answer. I urged her to let me tag along once more, but she firmly denied my request and quickly rushed out the door toward the car. I did not want to delay her departure any longer, so I finally backed down.
I honestly did not know what to do with myself after that. I physically could not sit still. I started pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor, my newly enhanced mind racing as I thought through all the terrifying possibilities regarding his heart. I knew what will happen to him from the bbt.
"Hey, is Dad going to be okay?" Missy asked. Her small voice was laced with deep worry. Sheldon also stood nearby, looking unusually tense and completely out of his depth.
I stopped my frantic pacing for a moment and looked closely at their frightened faces. I realized instantly that I had to step up and be the confident older brother here. They needed someone to console them and anchor the room.
"Yeah, he is going to be perfectly alright. Do not worry, you guys know how tough our dad is," I said reassuringly. I stepped closer and gently ruffled both of their heads, trying to project a calm certainty I did not actually feel.
A few agonizing minutes later, Meemaw rushed through the front door.
"Who wants pizza for dinner?" she yelled loudly, clearly attempting to relax the suffocating, tense atmosphere that had completely swallowed the house. I was still just sitting stiffly at the kitchen table, my mind spinning, completely unsure of what to do next.