Truthfully, I was hoping Nora wouldn't decide to go visit her mother. I had a feeling it would just be painful, and I was right. My heart broke when I saw her come down that hallway. She was shattered, and there was nothing she could do to help her mother. At least something good came out of it. She let me hug her.

I felt we were becoming closer, but the trust still wasn't there 100%. I didn't expect it to be after two weeks. She'd cuddled up to me during Sebastian's story time and had let me console her at prison. I didn't try to push it, though. I wanted her to initiate any physical contact.

The next day after school, Nora walked in with another kid I'd never met before. She was dressed similarly and had a skateboard in her hand. Kindred spirit.

"Hi," I greeted them.

"Hi, Lin," Nora said as they went straight to the refrigerator. "This is Taylor. Taylor, Lin."

"Nice to meet you," I told her and she smiled.

"We're gonna go across the street to the skate park after we have a snack," Nora told me.

I nodded. "Do you have much homework?"

"Nope," she said, chugging down a Gatorade. The girls both grabbed a Gatorade and a snack bar from the pantry and had left as quickly as they had arrived.

After dinner, I asked Nora about her guest. "So, are you friends with Taylor?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"Does she go to Hunter?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Anything else to share about her?"

"She's in 8th grade too. She lives on 169th. She can do a kickflip."

"Cool," I said, even though I had no idea what a kickflip was. I'm sure it was very impressive.

"I noticed your kneepads are getting a little worn," Vanessa chimed in. "We should go get you some new ones this weekend."

"Yeah, that'd be good," she said. "I've had these same ones since I was, like, eight."

After dinner was cleared, Nora set up shop on the couch with her homework and turned on Captain Underpants. She reclined with her notebook and started filling in answers in her notebook, laughing from time to time.

"Are you able to concentrate with that on?" I asked her as I walked over with a glass of wine.

"Yeah," she said dismissively. I glanced over her shoulder at her work.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes!" She complained.

"Well, you've already got two wrong," I pointed out. She sighed and erased the last two answers she'd been working on. "Why don't you turn off the TV until you're done."

"No, I'm fine," she said. "I was just being careless."

I grabbed the remote from the table and turned off the TV.

"Why the hell'd you do that?!" She raised her voice in protest.

"Language, please," I told her. "You'll get done a lot faster if you don't have any distractions."

"My mom let me do homework with the TV on," she told me. I almost pointed out that she was in jail, but decided that wouldn't be a good idea.

"If those are the rules at her house, fine, but here you need to do your homework without distractions."

She grumbled and continued as I sat down and sipped my wine and read a book. After a while, I noticed her mumbling under her breath. It sounded like a beat.

"Are you rapping?" I asked her.

"Maybe," she said.

"Who do you listen to?"

"Mostly 90's rap," she told me surprisingly. I eyed her.

"Biggie or Tupac?"

"Tupac, obviously," she answered quickly. I smiled and went back to my book.

___

The next few days passed uneventfully, thankfully. Nora brought Taylor around after school several times and they really seemed to be hitting it off. I was glad she'd found a friend, but I soon found out that her new friend wasn't exactly the greatest influence.

The call came mid-afternoon from her 5th period math teacher. Nora had her phone out constantly, apparently texting Taylor in another classroom. When she was asked to hand it over, Nora was refusing.

"Will you put her on the phone, please," I told her teacher, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingers. A few moments later, the phone had transferred hands to my very annoyed daughter.

"What?" She asked abruptly.

"Try that again," I told her, not wanting her to get used to talking to me that way.

She sighed. "Yes? How can I help you?"

"Nora, you need to give your teacher your phone right now," I told her simply.

"No," she said. "It's mine. She has no right to take it."

"Yes she does," I corrected her. "You're at school to learn and if your phone is causing a distraction, she has every right to take it."

"I put it away in my backpack already," she said.

"That's not the point," I told her. "Mrs. Adams said she asked you multiple times to put it away, and you refused."

"Well, I did it, so it's over," she continued to argue.

"Nora, I'm not getting into an argument with you about this," I said, my patience wearing thin. How hard was it to just hand over the phone? She was stubborn as hell. "Give the phone to Mrs. Adams, or I'll come down there, and you'll lose it for a week."

"Oh my Goooood," she moaned. "You suck."

It was fine if she thought I sucked. Sometimes that was my job as a parent. She gave the phone back to Mrs. Adams.

"Thank you, Mr. Miranda," she said. "She's given it to me now. She'll get it back at the end of the school day. Also, she has three missing assignments from me."

"Okay, I'll get on her about that," I assured her teacher, then hung up. I had a feeling that after school wasn't going to be pleasant. She avoided coming home until dinner time, probably spending her time skating in the park.

She walked in, sweaty and out of breath, and set her skateboard down.

"Don't even say it," she told me before I could even say hello.

"Say what?"

"You're disappointed in my choices," she mocked. Was I really already that predictable?

"Well, I am," I told her. "I shouldn't be getting phone calls from teachers saying you're not cooperating."

"What would you do if someone tried to take your phone?" She pointed out.

"Well, I wouldn't be on my phone while someone was trying to talk to me in the first place," I pointed out. "That shows respect."

She grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge. "Hand over your phone, kiddo," I told her while she chugged it down.

"Are you kidding me?" She asked. "I already got it taken away at school."

"And any time you get in trouble at school, you're in trouble at home as well," I told her. Wisely, she decided not to argue, and pushed her phone across the counter. I turned it off and pocketed it. "Mrs. Adams also told me you're missing assignments. Why's that?"

"Because I was busy," she said.

"Doing what?"

"Stuff," she said evasively.

I pulled up an Internet page on my laptop and logged into my parent account for her school. I pulled up her math class and showed her the gradebook. A C- with three missing assignments.

"There's no reason you should have any missing assignments," I told her. "You need to keep on top of it. Do you have much homework tonight?"

"Some," she admitted.

"After you shower, come out to the table and we'll work on it together."

She groaned and walked away to take her shower. When she walked back, her wet hair was tied up in a bun for the time being. She carried her math textbook and I pulled up her list of missed assignments on my computer.

"Alright, what are you working on?" I asked her as she flipped the pages in her math book.

"Algebraic equations," she told me. "It's simple."

"So you don't need any help?"

"No, not really," she said as she put her name and date on a blank sheet of notebook paper.

"So you've got missing assignments just out of pure laziness?" I checked.

"I'm not lazy, I just have better things to do," she countered.

"More important than your education?"

"I already know this stuff, so I don't see why I have to fill out worksheets to prove I know it," she explained.

"Well, kid, unfortunately that's the way of the world," I told her as I watch her sail through the first two problems. The kid was smart. "I'll leave you to it."

While she was working, I checked the rest of her grades. She had an A in English, but all her other subjects were in the C range. I decided not to bombard her this evening with everything, but C's weren't going to cut it. She was perfectly capable of A's and B's, if not straight A's. She just didn't see the value in trying, and I needed to figure out a way to get her to care. The importance of education was ingrained in me from an early age. My parents had come from Puerto Rico looking for a better life.

The next morning, Nora immediately asked for her phone back. I got it out and she reached for it, but I pulled my hand back. "Where does this belong during class?"

"In my backpack," she said apathetically.

"And if a teacher asks you to put it away?" I raised my eyebrows.

"I'll put it away," she answered. I gave her the phone.

"Good girl," I told her. "I'll see you tonight."

As she walked out the door with her backpack, her head was already down and her thumbs were flying, catching up on everything she'd missed in the past 18 hours.