He I'm sure he does, Miss Anderson interrupted, her voice dripping with condescension. Perhaps next time we can stick to the truth rather than trying to impress everyone. Malik stood frozen at the front of the room. But I am telling the truth, he insisted, his voice growing smaller. You may sit down now, Malik, Miss Anderson said firmly.
We have a lot of presentations to get through today. As Malik returned to his seat, his legs felt like lead. The sniggering continued around him and he could hear Tyler whispering, "Pentagon." "Yeah, right. Probably the janitor."
From beside him, Ethan's hand shot up. "Merson, Malik isn't lying. I've seen his dad's ID badge." Ms. Anderson's smile tightened.
"That's enough, Ethan. Unless you'd like to join Malik in detention for disrupting class." Ethan's face reened, but he fell silent, shooting Malik and apologetic look. The rest of the day passed in a blur. Malik moved through his classes mechanically, the humiliation of the morning weighing on him like a physical burden.
By the time the final bell rang, all he wanted was to go home and forget this day had ever happened. Jonathan was waiting in the car when Malik emerged from school. One look at his son's face told him everything he needed to know. Rough day," he asked as Malik slid into the passenger seat. "Yeah," Malik mumbled, staring out the window.
They drove in silence for a few minutes before Jonathan spoke again. "Want to talk about it?" Malik hesitated. Then the words spilled out. "We had to talk about our parents' jobs today.
I told them you work at the Pentagon." And everyone laughed at me. Even Miss Anderson, she acted like I was making it up to sound important. Jonathan's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, but his voice remained calm. I see.
She made me look like a liar in front of everyone, Malik continued his voice cracking. Why didn't you ever come to career day? Then maybe they'd believe me. You know why, Malik? Jonathan replied.
My schedule doesn't always allow for those things. It's not fair, Malik said. Everyone else's parents come to school stuff. Jonathan pulled the car into their driveway before turning to face his son. People doubt what they don't understand, Malik.
Sometimes being underestimated can be an advantage. How is being called a liar an advantage? Malik asked bitterly. Before Jonathan could answer, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen and Malik saw his father's expression change instantly, becoming harder, more focused.
I need to take this, Jonathan said, his tone shifting to something more business-like. Go inside and start your homework. We'll talk more later. Malik grabbed his backpack and trudged into the house while his father remained in the car. Through the living room window, he could see Jonathan speaking intently into his phone, his free hand making sharp, decisive gestures.