Word Count: 78,057
Summary of Events:
Drake spent some more time talking with the head waitress, whose more experienced perspective he really appreciated having. He then got into an argument with his dad that stemmed from his having helped his sister without her asking for it — which she hadn't appreciated. Not inclined to stay at home even for the handful of hours in the morning before work started, Drake went to a park and sat watching the river . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
His cellphone rang, startling him and — admittedly — ruining the tranquility of the moment he’d been enjoying.
Drawing it out of his pocket, he found that the call was from Calder. He answered it.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Calder replied. “How are things going?”
“Not all that great,” Drake admitted.
“I didn’t figure they were,” Calder replied. “Not after what Rhys told me.”
“What did he tell you?” Drake asked, feeling a little concerned.
“You’ve given up on possibly getting out of the cooking program,” Calder replied.
“I don’t have the money to afford to go anywhere else,” Drake replied. “And I probably am long out of time to apply somewhere. It’s August, after all.”
Calder sighed. “Rhys told me that there’s an aviation program with openings for the winter semester, are you sure that you can’t possibly transfer programs?”
“With the mood Dad’s been in lately I wouldn’t want to try,” Drake replied.
“Really?” Calder said. “Has it been that bad?”
“Yeah,” Drake replied.
“But who says he’ll find out?” Calder asked. “Surely you can brush off any extra time the aircraft course requires during or after the length of the cooking one by telling your parents you’re doing a continuing education course.”
“They’re paying for my schooling, surely what I’m taking will show up on their bills,” Drake protested.
“Why should it?” Calder asked. “Most kids are paying for their classes by themselves or via student loans, they know what they’re taking and anyone who doesn’t know doesn’t need to — especially not via the bills.”
“Every other bill tells you what you paid for on it, even if you don’t read it,” Drake replied.
“And who says they’ll read it?” Calder asked.
“I’m not convinced,” Drake replied.
Calder sighed. “Not that that’s the reason I called or anything.”
“Then why did you call?” Drake asked, hoping that whatever he’d called about would have nothing to do with the present predicament.
“I got talking to my uncle after I talked to Rhys,” Calder replied. “My uncle lives in Calgary — he actually runs a hockey skill school in town that taught Trey a bunch of what he knows — he’s looking into getting you a job lined up in Calgary that’ll coordinate with your school hours and not interfere with your ability to sleep or you attendance records in class.”
“I was going to hunt for a job on my own,” Drake said. “You guys didn’t really need to give me a hand.”
“My uncle’s looking into stuff that’s hopefully a little more than minimum wage,” Calder replied. “We want to help you make the largest amount of money in the shortest amount of time so that you can fly.”
Drake sighed. “I really don’t need all of this help.”
“We’re your friends,” Calder said. “And as the song goes, we’re your friends to the bitter end.”
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