I can't get to the school fast enough. My mind is reeling. What was Jackson thinking? He punched a student. Punched! Furious doesn't even begin to describe the heat flowing through my veins.

Pulling up to the school, my adrenaline is causing my hands to tremble. Everything around me blurs including the few cars that are in the lot, which sits to the left of the school. I need to breathe before I go in, I don't want them to think that I've fallen off the deep end.

He's ten and already fighting. This can't be good, what am I doing wrong? I swipe at the hot plump tears rolling down my cheeks. Pulling down the visor, I check my eyes. They are rimmed red and tearful. There's no covering it up, not when I have to get in there and have the principal chew me out for being a shitty parent.

I swipe my bag off the passenger seat and hurl myself from the car, slamming the door in my wake. Stalking across the field I realize how crazy I look. The parents are already starting to line up, the moms who walk every day are silently judging me with their narrowed gazes.

Inside, I find myself standing in the enclosed vestibule, waiting for the woman behind the glass to acknowledge me. I wipe again at the tears; grateful they have somewhat dried up for now. Staying level headed is what they need to see when I walk through those doors to the principal's office.

"Hi, I'm Mrs. – Ms. Clarke." I can't help cringing at using the last name I wish so badly to get rid of. Only, I haven't had the chance, maybe one day.

"Jackson's mom?" she asks.

I nod. It's the first time I've ever been embarrassed to be Jackson's mom. How awful is that? I give her my ID. She purses her bright red lips, types something in on the computer, and slides a visitor pass along with my ID back under the window for me.

"I'm buzzing you in. Just go around, they are waiting for you."

The principal's door is wide open. A buzzer goes off behind me and before I go inside the sound a familiar voice catches me off guard. Ignoring the intense flutter in my stomach, I make my way in.

Mr. Wells sits at his desk, his deep brown eyes finding mine as I enter.

"Ms. Clarke." He greets me with a flat tone.

I nod in response, and search for my son. Jackson is sitting to my right, the other boy to the left. My heart makes a leap when Jackson turns in his chair, his eyes as red as my own, and an ice pack pressed to his cheek.

The other boy sits hunched over, his head in his hands.

"Ah. Mr. Bailey. Thank you for joining us."

I gasp. Mr. Bailey. No. It can't be. The other boy lifts his gaze and my chest aches. He's got the ice pack on his lap, and a nasty looking bruise is starting to take color on his pale little face. I grab for my throat, stopping the building knot from forming.

Mr. Wells catches my eye. "Are you alright, Ms. Clarke?"

I lower my chin, afraid to look back, yet I'm unable to move. Vertigo takes over, making the room nearly black. I'm lost in what feels like a void of nothing. I barely register Lawson's hands on my shoulders guiding me to the chair beside Jackson. He gives me a squeeze before sitting down in the seat beside mine. Only a small gap sits between us. One that I wish I could make bigger.

"I'm – I'm okay."

I still can't look at him, but he's watching me. His gaze is so intense that it's like he's burning a hole into the side of my head. Bile rises and I swallow hard to keep it from rising. Don't get sick, I plead with myself. Somehow the urge rescinds, and I put my attention on Mr. Wells again.

"Well, you both know why you're here. It started at lunch. I don't know the cause. Neither boy will tell me. A few students say Jackson took the first swing."

"He was in my way..." Jackson mumbles.

"Excuse me, Mr. Clarke?" Mr. Wells, turns his attention to Jackson.

"He was in my way, sir."

Jackson's eyes float around the room. My hand starts to move towards him, but I don't feel like he wants my comfort. He keeps moving away.

"And so you punched him?"

"Yes, sir."

Henry is quiet, his hands in his lap, staring down.

"Is this correct, Mr. Bailey?"

Henry nods. "I– I was walking with my tray and stopped because I forgot something, and – and Jackson was behind me. His lunch went all over..."

I take another peek at Jackson. Something I hadn't noticed was the red juice stain on his shirt.

"I see. Well, Jackson, that's not how we approach a situation like this. I'm sorry, but I am going to have to suspend you for a week."

Mr. Wells lowers his gaze, singling out Jackson, keeping a stern eye on him. I don't condone the fighting, but I also was not prepared for a week suspension. This next week is not the time for this to happen.

"A - a week? I – there are some days I won't have a sitter. My sister is going on vacation, and I opted for some day shifts..."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Clarke, but we don't tolerate bullying here."

"I understand, I don't tolerate it either, but I- '' The bile rises again, and it's so hard to keep down, but I somehow manage it.

Lawson hasn't stopped watching me. He's probably waiting for me to spew all over the principal's desk. His hand touches my shoulder. It's an intimate gesture I wasn't expecting.

"My days are mostly free this week, if you need," he clears his throat. "If you need someone to watch him..."

"Hell no," Jackson bites. "You're not my dad."

"Jackson," I hiss at his fresh mouth. "I'm so sorry," I say, finally looking at Lawson.

"Well, I'll let you work out the details, Ms. Clarke, but one week. I'll have all his work ready from his teachers by tomorrow. If you can come pick it up."

"Yeah. I can."

"Alright. Jackson, son, listen. I know you're going through a hard time, but in this school, we act with kindness. I'm letting you off with one week, that's nothing compared to what I could give. It's your first offense, but I expect it to not happen again. If you do, there will be stricter consequences."

"Yes. Sir." Jackson hangs his head.

"I'd like to set up a meeting with our school counselor, maybe two during the duration of his suspension... Then we will work out a schedule upon his return. Unless you have a therapist..."

I shake my head, shame rising up on my cheeks, warmth spreading all over.

"We do not."

"The counselor can give you some direction with that I'm sure. I know you're both going through a hard time right now, and we want to make sure that our students and their families are well taken care of." He pauses, the room possessing a silence that hurts my ears. "Um... that is all Ms. Clarke, you and Jackson can go."

"Thank you," I say. My words are barely audible.

I get to my feet, I'm unsteady, but manage to walk out with my head held somewhat high.

"Excuse me," I say to the woman who helped me up front.

She turns in her chair, a gaze passing between Jackson and me.

"Can you have my daughter be sent down, might as well pick her up now. There's only twenty-minutes left of the school day."

"Sure. Name?"

"Annabeth Clarke, she's in Young's class."

Jackson stands beside me, his shoulders bent forward, head low. Mr. Wells and Lawson's voices carry through the doorway as they make their way out.

"I'm sorry to have to put him in detention, but it's just for two days. I understand he was defending himself, but..."

"I understand. We're going to have a long talk about it when we get home. Thank you, Mr. Wells."

"Hang in there, bud." Mr. Wells says.

The absolute dread that passes through me when Lawson exits the room, is enough to make my stomach churn. He doesn't say a word as he passes by, but I swear he purposely steps a few inches to the left, allowing his hand to graze mine. Before I can register it happening, the lady at the front desk interrupts my moment to tell me that Anna is on her way down.

By the time we get out to the parking lot, Lawson's truck is nowhere in sight. I sigh. The thought of almost having some kind of connection with someone else dies out as quick as it came.

The car ride home with the kids is silent, and when we get home, I remove Jackson's phone, and video games from his possession.

"Jackson, I'm not doing this to be mean ... I just think..."

He glares at me and crosses his arms.

"I don't want to talk," he mumbles.

Something that Lawson said pops into my head, so I keep my thoughts to myself. "Well, if you need me or anything I'll be downstairs. K?"

He waves me off, glaring up only for a second with his glassy eyes. Then he turns to face the blank gray wall, but what can I do? I'll let him cool down and then we'll have a chat. If we have one now, it will blow up in my face.

My phone rings the moment I get downstairs. I sneak over to the living room. Anna is in the kitchen doing her homework, and I don't want to distract her.

It's my sister.

"Hey, I got your text. I am so sorry. I could push back my trip. I'm driving down to my friends so it's not a big deal."

I run a hand through my hair, and lean back, closing my eyes to drown the tears before they start.

"It's not your fault. And no, you deserve a vacation. You've been my rock for so long, you needed a break."

She sighs. "I know, but I feel bad about work. Are you able to get some time off?"

"I don't know. I still have to call."

The thought of having to tell work that I have to miss a few days this week is stressing me. I need the money, but I'm not sure how I can work now.

"How's he doing?"

"He's not talking to me. I'm giving him time to cool off before we have a discussion. Either way it will likely lead to a fight, but I thought I'd let him wallow for a bit."

Taking deep breaths, I'm mostly calm now. I'm trying to set myself up for what's about to come.

"So, it was him, huh? The guy from the bar?"

Tumbling back to the moment I found out it was his son that Jackson hit, sends me into another tailspin of what ifs.

"Yeah. He offered to watch Jackson..."

She gasps. "Are you serious? And what did you say?"

"I didn't. I was so shocked by his offer, then Jackson brought up the dad card and I– I barely know the guy Tara, I don't think having Lawson watch him is such a good idea."

"Are you sure you don't want me to adjust my trip?"

That's the kind of person she is. She'd drop everything at a moment's notice just to be there for someone. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve an amazing big sister like her.

"Do you think you might take him up on that offer?" she asks.

I growl. "I'm not sure. Do you think it's a good idea? I don't know much about him. He seems like a really good dad to his son, but it feels weird having him offer that after Jackson hit his son. It feels weird. Like I should be the one offering him something."

She chuckles. "Oh, you can definitely offer him something."

I hate admitting that her saucy little comment made my lip twitch with an almost smile.

"Tara! Your mind is in the gutter," I half-laugh, half-groan.

"I can't help it, I'm sex deprived." Her laughter fills my ears, easing some of the anxiety.

"And I'm not?" I ask, snickering.

My phone beeps and I pull it away to check who it is. Hmm. An unknown number.

"Hey, Tar, can I call you back?"

"Yeah sure. I have to do some work, but call me tonight?"

"Yup."

We say our goodbyes and I swap over to the other number. I don't normally answer weird numbers, but there's a strange urge that's pushing me to do so.

"Hello?"

For a few lingering heartbeats there's silence on the other end. I open my mouth to speak again when his voice comes through loud and clear.

"Nadine?"

God! My heart rate skyrockets, nearly making a hole inside my chest. Lawson.

"How did you get my number?" I ask.

"Henry and Jackson are in the same class it seems. I uh– checked the class list."

His quick, uneasy breaths take me by surprise. On the other end I can actually hear the sound of footsteps pacing.

"Oh."

"I'm not stalking you I promise."

I can't help the nervous titter that bubbles up inside my chest. Maybe I'm going crazy. This day hasn't quite worked out the way I was hoping, and yet even after everything he's still talking to me.

"Is Henry okay? I am so sorry about Jackson. He's never done anything like this, I'm so..."

"You don't have to explain it to me. I get it. Remember, I've been in his shoes." He's quiet for a moment or two. "My offer still stands."

"Which? A date that's not in the bathroom or watching Jackson?"

His laughter leaks out through the phone speakers, sending a shiver up my spine, even though my body feels hot and fever-ish.

"Well, both are still on the table..."

"Even after..."

"Even after," he says, his voice low and raspy.

I lean back, allowing myself to stare up at the white popcorn ceiling. Jackson's room is above me. I wonder what he's doing up there. Should I be talking to him now or letting him cool down? This is all new territory to me.

"What about your job at the studio?"

"I've got some gigs lined up for the next week, so I have my days open right now. It's really not a problem watching him."

Jackson is going to think I'm doing this to throw a father figure in his face. It's not the case, I truly need someone, I can't not work. Our livelihood depends on this job. He's not going to see it that way. Not when he's this worked up over every little thing. Maybe I should just take off, take the pay cut for the week.

"Nadine."

His powerful voice catches me off guard. A soft gasp stumbles from my lips.

"Okay. Um... can I get back to you? I'm good for the next few days but after that I'm not sure."

"Yeah, just let me know. Okay? I can grab both of them on the pickup line, bring them back to my place. If that's okay with you? Or ..."

"Uh... yeah, I think ... that could work."

"Hey, if you're not comfortable."

I close my eyes, if things were different, I'd take off and make sure I was the one taking care of him, but things are complicated, and I have to try and deal with it.

"No. It's okay. I'll uh-let you know."

"And about the other thing..."

Is it right to even think about the other thing after Jackson's outburst? My social life has been put on hold for so long that maybe I'm just desperate to jump in at the first man who pops into my life.

"I don't know if we should... Jackson's really bent out of shape and-"

"I understand."

His melancholy tone throws me for a loop. I'm not used to guys wanting to go out with me, and now there's this huge roadblock keeping it from happening, but my son is the most important thing right now. I can't go off and have any kind of life with his behavior.

"I want to, so badly. You have no idea."

My confession sounds almost like a desperate plea.

"So, then we do this for a while. Is talking on the phone, okay? Get to know each other in a friendly manner, and when you are ready, I'll take you on the fanciest date you've ever been on."

I can't help the snort that flies from my lips. "Fancy, huh? Like suit and tie, fancy?"

"The works, baby, the works."

My laughter feels good and helps dry the tears stinging the back of my eyes. I kind of like the way his laugh intertwines with mine in my ear.

"Thank you for being so understanding, he's never – I don't even know how to approach this..."

"Don't apologize. Okay? Remember what I said. Just be there for him. Okay? Even if that means taking a step back and letting him figure it out, be there to catch him when he falls. That's all you can do."

Phone dates have never sounded so appealing. We spend the next hour talking on the phone, until the battery on my cell is so close to dying that it yells at me. We make plans to talk again, and honestly, it's the only thing that's made me smile all day. I should tread lightly through these murky waters. I don't want to take away Jacksons trust in me, but I also have to think of myself. If I can't be present and happy, then I can't be a good mom. I'm not going to do anything to anger him, but at the same time we both have to work with this new life we're living. It's not going to be easy, but we'll get there.

Prompt # 8 Here Comes Trouble