I Agreed to Let My Son Skip Exams

On the day of the college entrance exam, Jorja Smith, my son's homeroom teacher, calls to inform me that my son, Heath Hanson is absent. Heath doesn't return my calls or texts back. I look all over for him, only to come home and find him on the couch, eating fruits. When I ask Heath why, he sneers, "I just don't feel like going. You signed me up for six tutoring classes. My weekends are always full, and everything I do has to go according to your plan. I've had enough." I force myself to stay calm. "Finish the exam first. We'll talk things through after that." Heath throws the torn-up admission ticket in my face. "It's gone. I can't take the exam even if I want to." I black out as my old illness flares up, and I collapse. Heath glances at me, goes back inside his room, and slams the door shut. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day of Heath's college entrance exam. Jorja calls again, and I tell her, "Ms. Smith, he won't be taking the exam." Chapter 1 I stood by the roadside, dazed, after the call ended. Then I stuffed my phone into my pocket and walked home. A blast of cool air greeted me the moment I walked into the house. Heath Hanson was lounging on the couch, a plate of chilled fruits in front of him as he stared at the TV. It was the first day of the college entrance exam, and while other people's children were curiously writing away in the exam hall, my son was at home eating fruits. Heath visibly paused when he saw me. He looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected me back this early. I said nothing and didn't even look at him. I changed into my slippers and walked over to sit beside him. Noticing there was still some fruits left, I started eating them with a spoon. I could sense Heath's gaze on me. On the TV, the host was laughing in an exaggerated manner, while neither of us said a single word. It felt like we were worlds apart. Heath finally couldn't hold it in anymore. He spoke, his tone provocative. "The college entrance exam is today. I didn't take it." "Okay." I scooped another mouthful of fruit into my mouth. "Suit yourself." Heath paused and put his plate on the coffee table. He straightened up and stared at me. Then he laughed. "You're doing it again." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "You always act like this when you're upset. You'll act cold and say nothing, waiting for me to get scared and apologize to you." I didn't respond and kept eating my fruits. "Are you going to drag me to the exam hall later?" Heath sounded agitated. "I'm telling you. I've already torn up my admission ticket. Even if you drag me there, I won't be able to take the exam." I'd already been through this once in my previous life, but hearing him say it still hit a sore spot. "Don't worry, I won't." I set down my spoon and turned to him. "I've already told Ms. Smith that you're not taking the exam." Heath's expression changed. His defiance gradually gave way to suspicion, then shifted into an emotion too complicated for me to name. Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Heath's homeroom teacher, Jorja Smith. I opened it and showed it to Heath. "Mr. Hanson, do you think Heath is under too much pressure? Try to talk to him, please. Don't panic. We'll think of a way together. Even though he doesn't want to take the exam, you should try to talk him into it." Heath stared at the message for a long time, his lips parting slightly. The only sound in the living room was the exaggerated laughter from the variety show playing on TV. Heath sounded cautious and disbelieving. "You really… You're really not going to force me to take the exam?" I put the phone aside and picked up my spoon again. "Yeah. If you don't want to take it, then don't. From now on, you can do whatever you want. I'm not going to interfere anymore." Chapter 2 Heath stared intently at my face, waiting for me to contradict myself. Perhaps he was waiting for me to suddenly change my tune like I always used to and start lecturing him. But I didn't. I just kept eating fruits as one TV program after another played. "I sure hope you have truly come to your senses." Heath stood up and loomed over me, his voice trembling. "Liam, don't go back to your old ways in a few days. Do you have any idea what kind of life I've lived all these years?" His voice grew louder, and his eyes reddened. I remained silent. "Other kids spent their weekends at amusement parks, while I went to math enrichment classes. Other kids watched cartoons, while I had extra classes. When other kids learned to ride a bike, their parents held on to the back of the bike. Meanwhile, I fell and hurt my knees all alone. When you got back, the first thing you asked me was if I'd finished the day's homework." I remembered every instance. "Everyone else has a mom, but I don't." Heath choked on his words, but his voice soon hardened again. "Not having a mom is bad enough. You have to control everything I do too. I'm just a puppet on strings to you. I have to do whatever you tell me to do! When I came in tenth in my grade, do you remember how you reacted?" Heath looked at me, tears welling up in his eyes. "You didn't say a single word and stared at me for three whole minutes. Then you asked me how I'd managed to drop six places. Liam, it's just six places. I didn't commit any crime! You stared at me like I'd done something shameful!" I remembered that report card and the moment when I first saw it. I remembered wondering whether Heath had been slacking off lately, had fallen in with the wrong crowd, or had started dating instead of focusing on how well he was already doing. "All you care about are grades." Tears fell from Heath's eyes, though he quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand. "Sometimes, I feel like I'm unworthy to be your son if I don't get first place. Do you regret having me? If I got first place every time like Mrs. Ziegler's son downstairs, would you finally be satisfied? "I hate you." His tone was soft, but it hammered straight into my chest. "I'd rather grow up on my own. I'd rather go without food or clothes than have you control me like I'm some kind of criminal. I don't have any freedom at all. Do you know how jealous I am of Jason? His dad never cares how well he does in school. If Jason wants to learn how to paint, he lets him. If he wants to see a movie, he lets him…" By the end, Heath's voice had gone hoarse. I didn't say anything or look at him. I gripped the spoon, my fingers cold. Heath stood still, as though waiting for me to say something. But I said nothing. Chapter 3 Heath turned and walked out of the house. The sound of the door slamming echoed through the living room, and a small ornament on the TV stand rattled and fell to the floor. It was a cup Heath and I had made together at a pottery studio three years ago. The living room finally fell quiet. I turned off the TV, leaned back against the couch, and closed my eyes. My family was struggling financially, and Dad always said I'd be better off working than staying in school, so I dropped out of high school. I did construction work and became an apprentice at an auto repair shop. Eventually, I saved up enough money to start my own hardware business. I met Penny Reed through a family friend. She was pretty, had a way with words, and back then, I thought marrying her was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to me. I paid for the wedding, put money down on our house, and covered all the other costs of getting married. By the time it was over, I'd burned through all my savings and was deep in debt. Married life was peaceful enough for the first six months. But things started going downhill after Heath was born. Penny complained that I didn't make enough money, that the hardware store was dirty, and that we didn't even have a decent car. She didn't want to take care of the baby, so she left him with Mom and spent her days playing cards and going shopping. Then Penny started coming home later and later, until eventually, she stopped coming home at all. When I went to look for her, she berated me in front of others for being a good-for-nothing, and claimed that marrying me was the greatest misfortune of her life. Penny wanted a divorce, so she began acting hysterically. Once, she even picked up Heath and stood at the edge of the balcony, threatening to let go if I didn't sign the papers. Heath wailed in terror. I knelt on the ground, begging her, and eventually signed the papers. After that, Penny cleaned out the last bit of our savings and vanished without a trace. Heath was just two at the time. He had no idea what had happened and cried for his mom every night. All I could do was carry him around the house, walking in circles while telling him that Penny had gone far away for work. I had to be both parents to Heath. I strapped him to my back and brought him to the construction site and got chewed out by the foreman for bringing a baby to work. When I ran a street stall, I kept him in a cardboard box beside me, calling out to customers with one hand and swatting mosquitoes away with a fan in the other. Looking back, every hardship I'd faced in my life came down to one thing. I was uneducated, didn't know any better, was terrible at judging people, and didn't have what it took to make good money. If I'd stayed in school a few more years and known more about the world, even just a little, maybe Penny wouldn't have been able to trick me into losing everything, and Heath wouldn't have had to suffer alongside me. So every time Heath's grades slipped, I couldn't help but worry. Whenever I saw the numbers on his report card go down, I was afraid he'd grow up to be just like me, weak and helpless, with people walking all over him. I pushed him to study harder. I thought I was doing it for his own good. I thought that when he grew up, he'd understand and thank me. But Heath hated me. He could watch me collapse on the floor and just walk away. When I opened my eyes again, the light in the living room had begun to fade. My phone showed that it was 6:40 pm. By now, the college entrance exam had already ended. I stood up and went to the kitchen to wash my face. I turned the faucet all the way up, and it wasn't until the cold water hit my face that I felt like I was still alive. There was still food in the fridge from yesterday. I took it out and started making dinner, grabbing enough for one more person. I stared at the extra food for a while before cooking it anyway. Dinner was ready soon enough. I was the only one at the table, eating the two dishes I'd made. It wasn't until halfway through the meal that it hit me. I was still making Heath's favorite dishes out of habit. It had been ingrained in me for so long that I didn't even think about it anymore. Chapter 4 I ate my dinner slowly. The TV was on, and the news was covering that day's exam. The camera panned across the parents anxiously waiting outside the exam hall. Some held umbrellas, some held bottles of water, and others stood on tiptoes, trying to see inside. I turned it off. 7:30 pm came and went. Then 8:00 pm. Then 9:00 pm. Heath still hadn't come home. I sat on the couch, my finger hovering over the call button, wanting to call him. Then I pressed the back button and backed out of my contacts. I opened Instagram and saw that Heath had posted something half an hour ago. It was a photo of a few brightly colored liquor bottles sitting on a table under dim lighting. He wrote, "I'm free." The location was at a bar. I knew the place. It was on the street just outside our apartment, about a ten-minute walk away. Heath had posted it for me to see. He knew I'd check his Instagram, and he wanted me to see it. He wanted me to panic, to do what I'd always done before and rush over to drag him home. I didn't do as he wished, though. I just sat on the couch, looking at the post over and over again. There were already more than a dozen comments, with his classmates egging him on. "Nice one, Heath." "You're really not taking the test?" "Did your dad allow you to do so?" Heath gave them the same answer. "He can't tell me what to do anymore." I placed my phone face down on the couch, leaned my head back against the cushion, and sat in the dark for a long time. Heath was 18 now. He was legally an adult and fully responsible for his own decisions. He could be held accountable for the choices he made. I'd always treated him like a kid who needed my protection and for me to handle everything for him. But the kids grew up. They formed their own opinions and chose their own paths. And they had to live with the consequences of their choices. I closed my eyes. I wasn't the same person who used to lie awake all night whenever Heath's grades slipped even a little. I didn't want to be that kind of dad anymore. Maybe he didn't need me to protect him at all. Maybe I'd just been the only one who thought he did this whole time. The clock on the wall slowly crept toward 2:00 am. Finally, I heard the lock click. Heath staggered into the house, his clothes reeking of alcohol. He was a little unsteady on his feet, leaning against the shoe cabinet in the entryway as he changed into his slippers. When he saw me sitting on the couch, he froze. But just as quickly, his expression returned to that same cold look. "You still haven't slept yet?" His voice was light and slightly slurred from the alcohol as he stumbled toward his room. I didn't stop him. When Heath reached his bedroom door, he suddenly turned and glanced at me. His eyes were a little dull, the alcohol slowing his reactions, but there was still a hint of uncertainty in those bloodshot eyes. Heath was waiting for me to unleash my wrath. He was waiting for me to get up, just as I always used to, ready to demand to know where he'd been, who he'd been drinking with, and why he'd come home so late. But I said nothing. I just went back to my room and closed the door. The next morning, I was woken up by the sound of things being thrown around. I slipped on my slippers and walked out to find Heath's bedroom door wide open. Heath was rummaging through everything, with two large suitcases spread open on the bed and clothes piled messily on top. When he saw me, his hand instinctively stopped for a moment. I asked, "What are you doing?" "I'm moving out." He lifted his chin slightly when he said those words, putting on a deliberate tough front. "From today onward, I'm going to live on my own. I won't have to tiptoe around you anymore." I leaned against the doorframe and looked at him. "Sure." Heath's hand stopped again. "Really?" "Yeah." I straightened up. "You're an adult now. You can decide for yourself what kind of life you want. If you want to move out, do it."