FIC: The Care and Feeding of a Teenage Boy ~ Pt. 3
Title: The Care and Feeding of a Teenage Boy ~ 3
Author: bugs
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,500
Characters: Sharon, Rusty
Spoilers: Through Season One of Major Crimes; Set during MC 1.4: The Ecstasy and the Agony
~*~
Sharon closed the blinds to her office, blocking out Rusty's curious face. He had been playing a video game on the computer while sitting at an empty desk. The time of studying was over. He'd completed the placement test yesterday and Sharon had sent them to the school immediately.
The administrator for St. Joseph's was calling with the results at that moment. Sharon picked up the phone again. "Thank you for waiting, Ms. Castillo."
"I realize how busy you are," the other woman said cautiously.
"I have time for this," Sharon said, trying to remain patient.
"We've carefully review Rusty's scores, as well as the few school records you were able to send us--"
Sharon began to tap her pen on her desktop.
"This is most irregular--"
"Surely you've admitted other students who've missed a year of study before." Sharon pointed out.
"I've consulted with the Vice-Principal for the boys, Father Mark, as well as Mrs. Weathers for the girl's. We have concerns--"
"Concerns?" Sharon said, her tone turning dangerous.
Ms. Castillo didn't back down. "As a police officer, you can see where we're coming from--"
Sharon interrupted again. "No, I cannot. Were you able to make a decision?"
The administrator took a deep breath. "Rusty did well on the tests, all things considered."
"He's a very bright young man."
"Yes, well...We're willing to place him in the sophomore class with other children his age. After the holiday break tests, we can re-evaluate if necessary."
"It won't be necessary," Sharon said, determined. "I'd like him to start classes as soon as possible."
"Tomorrow is fine," said Mrs. Castillo. "I'll email you his teachers and classrooms."
Sharon thanked her and hung up the phone. Before calling Rusty into her office to tell him the news, she allowed herself a moment to give a dignified fist pump. It had been a tough few first days, but she felt as though they had turned a corner. Rusty was going to school.
But after the incident on the very first day with Rusty fighting, she was feeling less confident. When she allowed her anger to dissipate, she still found herself frustrated.
And the boy gave her nothing but more resistance hours later: I can go to Catholic school, I can be civil, as long as we both admit, sooner or later, I'm gonna have to leave and start over somewhere else.
She didn't expect Rusty to fall into her arms with gratitude for the shelter she was offering--truth be told, she didn't have time for this new job and emotional neediness from him. The confrontation while she made their lunches was draining enough. But she couldn't stop herself from worrying.
As she spent the next day checking her phone every hour to assure the school wasn't calling again, she made a decision.
When she picked Rusty up from school, she steered toward the shopping center again. From within her purse, her credit card groaned.
"Now that you've been there a couple days, are there any school supplies you'll need?" It had been so many years since Sharon had outfitted a child for school, she wasn't sure what was necessary anymore. She looked at his huge worn backpack sitting at his feet on the car's floorboards and kept her thoughts on that to herself.
"Nah..." He peeked up from under his hair. "They are going to give me a laptop to use...I mean if I get to stay."
"You're going to stay," Sharon said definitely. "That's good. You shouldn't be on the LAPD laptop anyway."
He rolled his eyes but didn't reply.
"Anything else? Notice any more clothes you want?"
"You bought me a bunch of stuff." He sounded resentful.
"I don't know what's in style though."
"I don't care about that," he grumbled.
After pulling into the center's lot, she began searching for a parking spot. "For now," she said tartly
He only hunched his shoulders, then noticed where they were. "I tol' you, I don't want any more clothes," he said.
She parked in front of the cell phone company store. "It's not clothes. I think you should have a phone if you're going to be getting in trouble. You call me, not the school.
As a pilgrim approaches a holy site, Rusty slowly walked around the bright showroom, his face enraptured at the displays.
Sharon cut off the saleman. "I have a contract already. I want to upgrade to the family plan and get another phone for my--" She waved a hand at Rusty weakly.
"Son?" the young man said helpfully.
Rusty flushed. Sharon cleared her throat before giving the clerk a pained smile but no reply.
This shopping expedition was just as exhausting as the one for clothes and food. In the end, the clerk transferred her iPhone 4 to Rusty and she allowed herself to have the newest version. Any other teenager would have sulked and whined to have to 'settle' for the older model, but the boy just cradled the phone in his palms and stared at it, not once touching its still pristine screen.
"Give me the protection plan on that one as well," Sharon said to the clerk.
As they left the store, she decided tonight was another drive-thru night. She even let Rusty select Fatburger.
Studying the illuminated menu board, she yelled into the speaker. "Can you take the bacon off the salad?"
"Uh..."
Rusty gave an impatient sigh but when she shot him a quelling look, he was entranced by the phone, downloading apps.
"I've put parental controls on there, you know."
No response.
"Uh, no, we can't take the bacon off," squawked back at her.
"I'll have the turkey burger then!" she bellowed, leaning halfway out the window.
"Why are you getting that?" asked Rusty.
She only glared at him again over her shoulder. "What do you want?"
"And actual cheeseburger and fries, please," he sneered.
Sullen, she passed on the order. "And a chocolate shake," came from behind her.
Beaten, she added that to the order, and pulled up to pay. Her credit card's numbers were being worn off, she noticed as she handed it through the window.
After she shoved the greasy wrappers into the garbage can in the kitchen, she told Rusty, "Homework, now. Put that phone down."
Another heavy sigh, but he shuffled on his stocking feet to the couch. Wincing, she wondered how long it would be before she needed to buy more socks for him.
But the schoolbooks came out in a convincing tableau of homework being done. The phone remained on the dining room table.
"When are you getting that laptop?"
"They said something about you calling with a credit card for a deposit," Rusty said, his nose buried in an algebra book.
It was her turn to sigh. She poured a glass of wine and moved to her desk. She had her own homework.
About an hour later, the young man slunk back to the table toward the phone.
"Rusty--" she warned.
"Just takin' a little break," he promised. "My brain hurts."
"It's out of practice. You need to work it back into shape."
Intent on the screen, he didn't answer. "There's your old pictures," he told her.
She glanced up over her glasses. "Just the kids, right?"
"I guess." He bit his lower lip as he looked at the photos.
"You can send those to me later," she said. "Just don't delete them, please."
"I won't," he said with an edge to his voice.
"You can take your own pictures," she suggested.
"Of who?" he said, still peevish.
"They don't have to be of people. Take pictures of anything." She waved her hand around before returning her fingers to the laptop keys.
He shuffled back over to couch. "I guess I should add your number," he mumbled.
She told him the digits, and then started rattling through the rest of the squad.
He complied, but muttered: "Great, I'm the kid whose friends list are all cops."
"Nothing wrong with that," she said gently. "You'll make friends at school; don't worry."
He didn't reply, only pressing his lips together as he fiddled more with the phone.
After a moment and seeing he didn't want to talk, she returned to her work. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Rusty begin to take photographs. She'd set the phone to make a clicking noise when it took a picture, needing that old-fashioned sense that something had happened.
click His chess set on the side table.
click His backpack by the couch.
click His white-socked feet, propped on the coffee table.
click Pointed her direction, then the phone was snatched back down and he examined the screen furtively.
She hadn't looked up. She hated posing for photographs. "Lights out at eleven. Better get back to your homework," she said.
~End
Author: bugs
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,500
Characters: Sharon, Rusty
Spoilers: Through Season One of Major Crimes; Set during MC 1.4: The Ecstasy and the Agony
~*~
Sharon closed the blinds to her office, blocking out Rusty's curious face. He had been playing a video game on the computer while sitting at an empty desk. The time of studying was over. He'd completed the placement test yesterday and Sharon had sent them to the school immediately.
The administrator for St. Joseph's was calling with the results at that moment. Sharon picked up the phone again. "Thank you for waiting, Ms. Castillo."
"I realize how busy you are," the other woman said cautiously.
"I have time for this," Sharon said, trying to remain patient.
"We've carefully review Rusty's scores, as well as the few school records you were able to send us--"
Sharon began to tap her pen on her desktop.
"This is most irregular--"
"Surely you've admitted other students who've missed a year of study before." Sharon pointed out.
"I've consulted with the Vice-Principal for the boys, Father Mark, as well as Mrs. Weathers for the girl's. We have concerns--"
"Concerns?" Sharon said, her tone turning dangerous.
Ms. Castillo didn't back down. "As a police officer, you can see where we're coming from--"
Sharon interrupted again. "No, I cannot. Were you able to make a decision?"
The administrator took a deep breath. "Rusty did well on the tests, all things considered."
"He's a very bright young man."
"Yes, well...We're willing to place him in the sophomore class with other children his age. After the holiday break tests, we can re-evaluate if necessary."
"It won't be necessary," Sharon said, determined. "I'd like him to start classes as soon as possible."
"Tomorrow is fine," said Mrs. Castillo. "I'll email you his teachers and classrooms."
Sharon thanked her and hung up the phone. Before calling Rusty into her office to tell him the news, she allowed herself a moment to give a dignified fist pump. It had been a tough few first days, but she felt as though they had turned a corner. Rusty was going to school.
But after the incident on the very first day with Rusty fighting, she was feeling less confident. When she allowed her anger to dissipate, she still found herself frustrated.
And the boy gave her nothing but more resistance hours later: I can go to Catholic school, I can be civil, as long as we both admit, sooner or later, I'm gonna have to leave and start over somewhere else.
She didn't expect Rusty to fall into her arms with gratitude for the shelter she was offering--truth be told, she didn't have time for this new job and emotional neediness from him. The confrontation while she made their lunches was draining enough. But she couldn't stop herself from worrying.
As she spent the next day checking her phone every hour to assure the school wasn't calling again, she made a decision.
When she picked Rusty up from school, she steered toward the shopping center again. From within her purse, her credit card groaned.
"Now that you've been there a couple days, are there any school supplies you'll need?" It had been so many years since Sharon had outfitted a child for school, she wasn't sure what was necessary anymore. She looked at his huge worn backpack sitting at his feet on the car's floorboards and kept her thoughts on that to herself.
"Nah..." He peeked up from under his hair. "They are going to give me a laptop to use...I mean if I get to stay."
"You're going to stay," Sharon said definitely. "That's good. You shouldn't be on the LAPD laptop anyway."
He rolled his eyes but didn't reply.
"Anything else? Notice any more clothes you want?"
"You bought me a bunch of stuff." He sounded resentful.
"I don't know what's in style though."
"I don't care about that," he grumbled.
After pulling into the center's lot, she began searching for a parking spot. "For now," she said tartly
He only hunched his shoulders, then noticed where they were. "I tol' you, I don't want any more clothes," he said.
She parked in front of the cell phone company store. "It's not clothes. I think you should have a phone if you're going to be getting in trouble. You call me, not the school.
As a pilgrim approaches a holy site, Rusty slowly walked around the bright showroom, his face enraptured at the displays.
Sharon cut off the saleman. "I have a contract already. I want to upgrade to the family plan and get another phone for my--" She waved a hand at Rusty weakly.
"Son?" the young man said helpfully.
Rusty flushed. Sharon cleared her throat before giving the clerk a pained smile but no reply.
This shopping expedition was just as exhausting as the one for clothes and food. In the end, the clerk transferred her iPhone 4 to Rusty and she allowed herself to have the newest version. Any other teenager would have sulked and whined to have to 'settle' for the older model, but the boy just cradled the phone in his palms and stared at it, not once touching its still pristine screen.
"Give me the protection plan on that one as well," Sharon said to the clerk.
As they left the store, she decided tonight was another drive-thru night. She even let Rusty select Fatburger.
Studying the illuminated menu board, she yelled into the speaker. "Can you take the bacon off the salad?"
"Uh..."
Rusty gave an impatient sigh but when she shot him a quelling look, he was entranced by the phone, downloading apps.
"I've put parental controls on there, you know."
No response.
"Uh, no, we can't take the bacon off," squawked back at her.
"I'll have the turkey burger then!" she bellowed, leaning halfway out the window.
"Why are you getting that?" asked Rusty.
She only glared at him again over her shoulder. "What do you want?"
"And actual cheeseburger and fries, please," he sneered.
Sullen, she passed on the order. "And a chocolate shake," came from behind her.
Beaten, she added that to the order, and pulled up to pay. Her credit card's numbers were being worn off, she noticed as she handed it through the window.
After she shoved the greasy wrappers into the garbage can in the kitchen, she told Rusty, "Homework, now. Put that phone down."
Another heavy sigh, but he shuffled on his stocking feet to the couch. Wincing, she wondered how long it would be before she needed to buy more socks for him.
But the schoolbooks came out in a convincing tableau of homework being done. The phone remained on the dining room table.
"When are you getting that laptop?"
"They said something about you calling with a credit card for a deposit," Rusty said, his nose buried in an algebra book.
It was her turn to sigh. She poured a glass of wine and moved to her desk. She had her own homework.
About an hour later, the young man slunk back to the table toward the phone.
"Rusty--" she warned.
"Just takin' a little break," he promised. "My brain hurts."
"It's out of practice. You need to work it back into shape."
Intent on the screen, he didn't answer. "There's your old pictures," he told her.
She glanced up over her glasses. "Just the kids, right?"
"I guess." He bit his lower lip as he looked at the photos.
"You can send those to me later," she said. "Just don't delete them, please."
"I won't," he said with an edge to his voice.
"You can take your own pictures," she suggested.
"Of who?" he said, still peevish.
"They don't have to be of people. Take pictures of anything." She waved her hand around before returning her fingers to the laptop keys.
He shuffled back over to couch. "I guess I should add your number," he mumbled.
She told him the digits, and then started rattling through the rest of the squad.
He complied, but muttered: "Great, I'm the kid whose friends list are all cops."
"Nothing wrong with that," she said gently. "You'll make friends at school; don't worry."
He didn't reply, only pressing his lips together as he fiddled more with the phone.
After a moment and seeing he didn't want to talk, she returned to her work. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Rusty begin to take photographs. She'd set the phone to make a clicking noise when it took a picture, needing that old-fashioned sense that something had happened.
click His chess set on the side table.
click His backpack by the couch.
click His white-socked feet, propped on the coffee table.
click Pointed her direction, then the phone was snatched back down and he examined the screen furtively.
She hadn't looked up. She hated posing for photographs. "Lights out at eleven. Better get back to your homework," she said.
~End