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Long ago, Pat had learned how to gage the kind of day he would have based on the mood of the teenagers that he found himself surrounded by daily.
He knew immediately what mood Courtney was in first thing in the morning when she descended the stairs for breakfast. If she came down dancing with a smile on her face, then he knew that she was in a good mood. If she stormed down with her hair askew, he knew that he was in for a very long day.
It probably wouldn't have mattered too much if it were only her, but Pat knew that if the others were in good moods when they got to school, Courtney's attitude would infect them slowly, and they would all leave in bad moods to match. Rick's anger would get the best of him, and Beth would fold into herself and Yolanda would get snappy and Courtney's bad mood would only get worse. It was no fun for anyone involved.
But he didn't have a chance to see her this morning, having had to rush out early so he could get a headstart on an ugly coppery red four-wheel-drive that had been leaking some sort of fluid, so he could only hope that the stars would align and the fates would be on his side just this once, and that the kids would arrive all in good moods.
Thankfully, his prayers were answered when Courtney and Yolanda walked into the Pit Stop after school, gossiping about kids in their class and laughing together, greeting Pat as they climbed the stairs to the second landing and he breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his work.
His head was buried deep into the cavity of the car's motor when he heard the familiar sound of the Mustang's engine, tearing down the street and pulling into the empty space of the Pit Stop, and Pat removed himself from the inside of the ugly, leaking car and wiped his hands on the rag from his belt to greet them.
"You should be proud, Rick!" Beth was saying as she climbed out of the passenger side door. "This is an enormous achievement!
Another door opened and closed and Pat turned the corner to see Rick locking the Mustang and Beth standing on the passenger side in a hoodie at least three sizes too big for her, nearly vibrating out of her skin with nervous energy. "It's not that big of a deal, Beth."
"Not a big deal?" Beth repeated as if he had just committed blasphemy. "Not a big deal? This is a huge deal, Rick! This is a massive accomplishment! Why are you being so cool about this?"
"Because it's not a big deal," Rick said again as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, saying it slower as if that would change the outcome.
The commotion had attracted the attention of the girls from the loft and they both peered over the railing. "Did he do it?" Courtney asked.
"Yes!" Beth exclaimed excitedly.
"No," Rick said at the same time, sounding bored and exasperated.
"Sorry, excuse me, don't mean to interrupt," Pat interjected. "But what did he do?"
Even before the words had fully left his mouth, Rick's eyes had fluttered shut in resignation and Beth was bounding over to him and shoving a piece of paper against Pat's chest. "Rick got a 98% on his chemistry test!"
Suprised, Pat took the paper from Beth as she danced back, and indeed, on the top-right corner of the front page, was two thick letters written in red marker in a circle was written: 98%! Good Job!
Impressed, Pat flicked through the booklet and admired all the red checks and the equations he couldn't make heads or tails of. "Wow," he said. "Beth's right, Rick. You should be extremely proud."
Rick looked like he wanted to protest, but his words died in his throat and he turned away with a faint blush rising up his neck and across his cheeks. "It's not that big of a deal," he muttered as he turned back around.
Up above, Courtney poked Yolanda in the side. "Alright, I win. Time to pay up." Yolanda groaned as she dug through her backpack for her wallet.
Frowning, Rick looked up at them with his heavy brows pulled low over his eyes. "Did you two jerks bet on whether or not I would pass my test?"
"No," Yolanda protested as she handed Courtney a $10 note. "We were betting on how high the score would be. We both knew you would pass, I just didn't think you would get into the nineties because, you know, you never study."
"Thanks for all your support, ladies," Rick said sarcastically as he crossed the garage floor to the small desk and tightened his grip on the strap of the backpack.
"Don't worry, Rick," Courtney winked at him and put the bill in her jacket pocket. "I have faith in you."
Rolling his eyes, Rick sat down at the make-shift desk and pulled a couple of books out of his bag as Courtney and Yolanda pushed away from the railing. Moments later, loud music echoed through the Pit Stop and the girls started laughing and Rick shook his head with a small smile on his face.
Pat only half paid attention to their anticks as he intently read through every page of the test in his hands. The questions were answered precisely, the working out was clear and the number of red checkmarks and positive feedback was a sight to sorry eyes. Rick wasn't even his kid, and he was incredibly proud. His handwriting was just like his fathers.
Maybe it was unfair to say, and maybe Pat should have known better by now, but given the very specific reputation Rick had around Blue Valley, Pat never thought that he was the kind of kid to attempt a test much less get 98% on one, and a chemistry test at that.
But on the other hand, Pat did know Rick, and he expected nothing less from him.
On his way to the desk where Rick was sitting, he passed by Beth, who was standing off to the side on her phone, bopping along to the music as she scrolled through her phone and sent updates to her parents. She glanced up when he approached and offered him one of her Beth-Chappel-trademarked sunlight bright smiles. "Hi Pat," she greeted warmly. "Did you need something?"
"Hey there, Beth," Pat replied as he leant against the wall beside her, Rick's paper dangling from between his fingers and the other hand tugging on the ends of the oversized jumper. "I don't need anything, really, but I've just got to ask you where you got this hoodie. It's at least three sizes too big. It's huge!"
Beth blinked and looked down at her hoodie in surprise as if she had forgotten that she was wearing it. "Oh," she said as she also tugged at the grey fabric. "It's Rick's. It was cold this afternoon and I left my jacket at home, so he let me borrow his."
"Ah, right," Pat understood. "That's nice of him. It still doesn't explain why it's so big. There's no way he needs a hoodie that hangs down to his knees."
"That's true. I'll have to ask him next time I remember it," Beth laughed. She nodded down at the paper in his hands. "He's great, isn't he?"
"He sure is," Pat said as he slapped the rolled-up test against his opposite palm. "I'll be right back."
She smiled kindly at him as he pushed away from the wall and over to where Rick was currently engrossed in his fathers leather-bound and embossed journal, tapping his foot and swaying gently on his seat to the music sounding from the top floor and flowing through the Pit Stop. "Hey, champ."
When Rick glanced up, his eyebrows were raised and he was smiling condescendingly. "Champ?"
"Yeah, champ. It's a term of endearment, short for champion," he sat on the edge of the desk and smacked Rick lightly on the shoulder with the back of his hand. "Which you are, right? Mister 98%. I didn't know you did chemistry."
Glancing down, Rick shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn't think that it was important. It's an elective. I thought that after I pretty much learned a few years worth of chemistry in, like, a week, it wouldn't hurt to go ahead and take it as a subject."
Nodding, Pat glanced back at the booklet in his hand. "And 98% on your first test? It really is impressive. I'm not just saying this, but I knew your dad well, and I really think that he would just be so proud of you. I mean that from the bottom of my heart."
"Ah, uh, t-thanks," Rick looked away, flustered, and tried to change the subject. "I'm going to be honest, I think my teacher was way more surprised about my score than I was."
Chucking, Pat was more than happy to let him change the topic, and he placed the test down on the desk. Rick shut the journal and pushed it aside so Pat could sit better. "I doubt that poor teacher knows what they're in for," he joked and even managed to surprise a laugh out of Rick. "Now, tell me, is there any other impressive achievements that you've been keeping a secret from me?"
Scrunting up his nose in that way he did sometimes, Rick reached down and dug through his backpack. "I mean, not really."
He produced a similar booklet from his bag, crumpled up and ripped in places as if it had lived in the very bottom of his bag for a while and was getting crushed with school books and the like. When Pat took it, he noticed two things. The first was that Beth definitely took more care in handling his chemistry test than he had handled this one, and the second was that the test in his hand was an engineering test with a big 70% in the corner.
"What's this?" he asked as he flicked through the booklet. "You're doing engineering and chemistry?"
"No," Rick shook his head. "I signed up for engineering first, but it wasn't what I thought it was going to be. It was less about mechanics and fixing old cars and more..." he gestured absently at S.T.R.I.P.E in the corner, covered by a tarp. "You know. More construction and math and building things. So I dropped that and took the risk to pick up chemistry instead. That's why I only got 70% for it."
"I mean, 70% is pretty impressive for someone who didn't even know all of the content," Pat said. "Beth's right, Rick. You should be very proud of yourself. Even I'm proud of you."
Rick didn't answer and glanced back down at the desk. He rested his hand on his father's journal and tenderly traced his fingers over the golden embossed name. "It doesn't matter, anyway," he muttered bashfully. "It's just school. One good test result isn't going to change the world."
Pat frowned. "It still matters, Rick. It's important."
But Rick merely shook his head and returned to his father's journal, taking comfort in the familiar writing and equations. Pat glanced down at the two tests sitting side-by-side on the desk, one crumpled and ruined, the other neat and pristine. Ironic, Pat thought, or maybe it's fitting.
It occurred to him then that maybe the reason Rick didn't think that a 98% on a chemistry test mattered was that all his life, it never had. From the little that Pat knew about Rick's uncle, he didn't seem to be the celebratory or congratulating guy, and it was probably unlikely that he had ever celebrated a birthday much less an extraordinary score on a test. No wonder Rick thought it was unimportant. Because it always had been before.
It was a good thing that Pat had become such a fast decision-maker in these past few months.
"Everyone! Stop what you're doing!" he shouted into the empty space, and his voice echoed through the Pit Stop. "Stop brooding! Stop studying! Stop training! Stop texting your parents! We're going out to eat, right now, to celebrate Rick's success!"
Beth glanced up from her phone. The music stopped, and Courtney and Yolanda's faces re-appeared over the railing. Rick looked up at him in shock. "What?"
"You heard me," Pat said simply. "I've got a rule that when any of my kids get over 90% on a test, we go out to eat in celebration."
Courtney snorted but was smiling. "Since when have you had this rule?"
"Since five seconds ago," Pat said easily as he collected his things. "If you ever got 90%, you'd know about it. Come on, kids. Let's go get some pizza."
As the girls eagerly collected their things and got ready to go, Rick slowly stood from his chair and looked at Pat as if he had just slapped him in the face and sprouted wings in quick succession. "Pat, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm getting ready to go and get some pizza," Pat said, double-checking that he had his keys and his wallet in his pocket. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
"It kind of looks like you're going out of your way to make me feel good about a stupid test score," Rick said, voice tight, brows low over his eyes.
Pat shrugged. "If that's what it looks like. It may not be important to you, but it's important to me," he ruffled Rick's hair, ignoring his protests and darted out of the way before he could be swiped at. "Now, come on. I need you to help ferry everyone to the pizza place. You won't all fit in my rental car.'
He turned his back and left him before he could reply with some witty, sarcastic, self-deprecating comment. He shut the door to his car and he was worried for a moment that Rick wouldn't join them, but then the roaring engine of the Mustang rumbled to life, and Pat was filled with a familiar swell of pride.