“You are so stubborn!” I hated him right now. Couldn’t he see that transferring to Rayburn High would help me get into college. Better classes, better teachers. Daddy let me storm out of the room without saying, “stay right where you are, young lady.” If he had, I would have had to stand there and listen to whatever he wanted to say. My hackles were up.
Whenever I got upset, Daddy’s favorite comment was, “don’t get your hackles up.” “Screw you,” I wanted to say, but I never did. In our house we didn’t talk back.
Unless a miracle happened, I wasn’t going to win this one. I was Daddy’s girl and pretty much got what I wanted, but that probably wasn’t going to happen this time. I knew that he knew the real reason I wanted to transfer high schools was that Mike went to Rayburn. That only made me madder and him more stubborn.
What could I do to change his mind? At sixteen I was past the point where wheedling and sweet talking worked. The last time I tried he looked at me over the top of his glasses as if to say, “really?” I smiled, batted my eyelashes and shrugged.
Daddy liked Mike okay, but, well now I’m sixteen and Daddy’s girl. Things were changing. Little girl tactics weren’t going to work anymore.
Then it came to me, “Mr. Sasser.” Mr. Sasser taught tenth grade English and was faculty advisor for the student paper. He loved me—not in a bad way—and thought I had real writing talent. Last year he told Dad that I was the best writer in the school and regretted that there weren’t any advanced composition classes at Washington High. This could be it. I’ll call Rayburn and see what classes they have. Good. I have a plan.
When my pale pink princess phone rang, I knew it was Mike. I couldn’t wait to tell him.