Friday afternoons used to feel like freedom. Now they just felt like hours to get through.
Elena dropped her backpack by the door and went straight upstairs. She didn't bother with a snack. Didn't bother with her phone. She just pulled the blanket over her head and let the hum of her ceiling fan blur the hours away.
By the time she heard the front door creak open again the sun was already sinking. She expected the usual—her dad dragging himself in late, tie loosened, A constant look of defeat etched to his features.
But instead of trudging his way past her room door to his own, He knocked once on her doorframe before leaning against it.
"I know You've been up here all afternoon," he said.
"So?" Her voice came out muffled from under the blanket.
"So," he said carefully, "I came home early. Thought we could maybe... eat dinner together. Actual food. Not just cereal."
Elena pushed the blanket down blinking at him. "You, a sudden workaholic. Home early?"
"Yeah." He gave a small shrug as if it surprised him too. "Didn't feel like staying late."
She sat up slowly, crossing her arms over her knees. "That's new."
He sighed stepping into the room. In his hand was a piece of paper, glossy and colorful. He set it down on her desk like it was evidence.
The brochure, The one from the kitchen counter: Community Center Volunteer Program.
Her stomach dropped.
"No" she said immediately.
"You don't even know what I'm going to say yet," he countered.
"You're holding the brochure dad I know exactly what you mean by it, and the answer is no." She folded her arms tighter.
"Elena." His tone had that warning edge to it now, the one that meant don't dismiss me so fast. "I think it could be good for you. Just to get out of the house. Be around people again."
She barked out a humorless laugh. "People? You mean kids I don't even know? At some center I don't care about? Yeah, sounds great."
Her dad's jaw tensed. "You can't keep doing this—just sleeping, not eating, shutting everyone out."
"Oh, that's rich" Elena shot back. "You're one to talk."
His brow furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you've picked up more work hours than ever. You barely come home. You're avoiding this house just as much as I am."
Her words hung in the air, harsh enough to sting. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally rubbed a hand over his face.
"You're right" he admitted quietly. "I thought if I worked more, it would... help. Keep me from thinking about everything. But I realized running away from the problem isn't going to fix anything. It's not going to fix me, and it's not going to fix us."
Elena let out another laugh, colder this time. "So now you want to fix it with a field trip to the community center?"
"I want to try," he said firmly. "I want you to try. You don't hang out with your friends anymore. You don't do anything that used to make you happy. This—" he tapped the brochure "—might not change everything but it's a goddamn start."
She snorted, glancing at the paper. "It's only five hours on Saturdays".
"Who actually wants to give up their weekend to babysit strangers?"
Her dad didn't flinch. "It's not babysitting. You'd be helping with activities, games, tutoring. They only ask for one afternoon a week, twelve to five. That's it."
Elena shook her head staring at the floor. "You think throwing me into some volunteer gig is going to make me forget Sophia?"
His voice cracked just slightly. "No. I'd never ask you to forget her, but she wouldn't want this for you. She wouldn't want you to disappear."
Her throat tightened, but she refused to show it. She stared straight ahead; arms still locked across her chest like armor.
He exhaled slowly softening his tone. "Just one day. Tomorrow. If you hate it, you don't have to go back. But please Elena give it a chance."
The silence stretched between them. Elena could feel the weight of his gaze, the way he was waiting for any sign she'd bend.
Finally, she muttered "Okay I'll think about it."
It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no either.
Her dad gave a small nod relief flickering in his tired eyes. "That's all I'm asking."
He stood, leaving the brochure on her desk. As he walked out, Elena glanced at the bright photos—smiling kids, messy paint, too much color for a house that felt so gray.
She shoved it into the drawer without looking again.
But the image stuck in her head anyway.
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Saturday came whether she wanted it to or not.
Elena sat on the edge of her bed silently regretting telling her dad shed attend the center while begrudgingly staring at the pile of clothes draped over her desk chair. Her dad had poked his head in twice already—"You ready yet?"—and both times she'd answered with silence.
She didn't know what people wore to volunteer at a place full of kids. She didn't care either. In the end she pulled on black jeans, her favorite graphic tee and slipped gold hoops into her ears. If she was going to be forced out of the house, she'd at least look somewhat presentable doing it.
When she finally came downstairs her dad was waiting by the door keys in hand. His face softened when he saw her like the simple fact she wasn't in pajamas was some kind of miracle.
"Thanks for trying" he said.
"I never said I was trying" Elena muttered trudging past him.
The drive felt longer than fifteen minutes. Her dad kept fiddling with the radio switching stations before a song could settle. Elena sat angled toward the window watching the town roll by in a blur of diners, barbershops, and the same half-cracked sidewalks she'd walked her whole life.
When the community center finally came into view; a squat brick building with wide windows and faded blue lettering her chest tightened. The parking lot was already filling up. Kids darted across the grass outside their jackets unzipped, voices carrying loudly in the cool autumn air.
Her dad parked and killed the engine. For once he didn't give her a speech, he just looked at her tired eyes steady.
"You'll be okay."
Elena let out a short laugh. "Sure." She grabbed the strap of her crossbody bag and climbed out before he could say anything else.317Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjOgkuQcsXH
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Inside the lobby buzzed with movement. Parents signed clipboards. Volunteers in different brightly colored shirts handed out supplies.
Elena tugged at the hem of her tee as she approached the front desk. A woman with curly hair piled high on her head smiled up at her warmly.
"You must be Elena" she said. "Your dad called yesterday."
Elena raised her eyebrows. "Did he now."
The woman chuckled like she'd seen the reaction a hundred times. "Don't worry We'll ease you in. Here—" She slid a sticker name tag across the counter, along with a clipboard of sign-in sheets. "Arts and crafts are in the gym, basketball on the far court. Jump in wherever you feel comfortable."
Elena muttered a "thanks" and slipped down the hall, the squeak of her sneakers bouncing off the walls.
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Inside the gym was pure chaos.
Tables lined one side covered with markers and paper and cups of paint water already tinted gray. Kids huddled in clusters, holding up messy crafts, arguing over who stole which color. On the other side the thud-thud-thud of basketballs echoed as groups of older kids ran half court drills.
Elena hovered in the doorway wishing she could vanish.
but then a familiar figure caught her attention.
Near the bleachers, crouched on the floor with a little boy was the boy from English... Adrian.
He wore a plain crewneck and jeans; sleeves pushed to his elbows. His hair fell into his face as he stacked wooden blocks with the kid. When the tower collapsed Adrian's lips curved in a small smile and the boy dissolved into giggles.
Elena froze.
Of all the people to end up here it had to be him.
She took a slow step into the gym arms tucked behind her back. He hadn't seen her yet, too focused on balancing another block.
Her dad's voice echoed in her head: Just one day. Give it a chance.
A volunteer spotted her almost instantly. "You must be new" she said a bright smile plastered on her face. Her orange-green T-shirt screamed staff more than anything else. "Perfect, arts and crafts are overflowing. You'll be great there."
Before Elena could say anything, she was nudged toward a long table near the wall, dropped in front of a mountain of construction paper, markers, and glue sticks.
"Cut this!" a girl with pigtails demanded, shoving a paper with half-drawn stars into Elena's hands.
Elena blinked at her. "Uh... sure."
By the time she finished the first star, three more kids were pushing projects her way—clouds, hearts, lopsided circles. Glitter clung to her jeans, glue dried tacky on her palms.
It wasn't what she'd imagined.
She thought it would be simple Easy babysitting, Keeping kids alive for five hours. But here there were kids signing with each other so fast her eyes couldn't keep up. A boy with Down syndrome sang loudly, off-key and shameless, while another pressed words into a speech tablet that repeated them in a robotic voice.
The realization landed heavy: she hadn't read the damn brochure.
This wasn't just a program for regular kids.
Her stomach tightened. She wanted out.
But the kids didn't let her.
"Look!" a boy shouted, holding up a crooked paper crown.
Another girl shoved a rainbow into her hands. "It's for you!"
Elena blinked, caught off guard. "...Thanks."
The girl grinned so wide her missing tooth showed, then darted away.
Something softened in Elena's chest before she could stop it.
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"Snack time!" a volunteer called an hour later. Chaos erupted. Kids scattered toward folding tables stacked with juice boxes and pretzels.
Elena sank into her chair rubbing glue off her fingers with a napkin. Her body felt heavy, like she'd just run laps.
That's when she saw him again.
Adrian.
He was by the bleachers, still crouched low with the same boy from earlier. but this time his hands moved in quick, practiced shapes—signing. The boy signed back grinning, and Adrian smiled, small but warm before setting up another block tower.
Elena froze.
It clicked. The thing she'd seen in English—the small curve of something tucked behind his ears. They were hearing aids. His voice that sounded different when he read aloud was because he was deaf.
Before she could look away his eyes flicked up and caught hers.
Her stomach dropped.
And then he stood.
He walked toward her in an unhurried pace; hands tucked into his pockets. When he stopped at her table his gaze stayed on her lips for just a second before shifting back to her eyes.
"You're... new," he said.
His voice was low, careful, the same flat tone she'd noticed in English.
Elena blinked her brain stuttering, He was talking—to her.
"Yeah" she finally managed after a pause. "First day."
Adrian nodded once his eyes lingering on her mouth as she spoke. Then before she could say anything else a kid ran past and slammed into his leg, nearly spilling his juice box.
Elena let out a startled laugh.
Adrian glanced back at her. And this time just barely—one corner of his mouth tugged up, like she'd said something funny without meaning to.
Then the little boy tugged on his sleeve again, and Adrian let himself be pulled away.
Elena sat frozen cheeks burning, her pulse pounding louder than the basketballs on the far court.
By five o'clock she was officially drained.
Her dad's car was waiting in the lot. She collapsed into the passenger seat, head thunking against the window.
"Well?" he asked carefully as though afraid of the answer.
She shrugged. "It was... different."
"Different good or different bad?"
"Don't push it, Dad."
He chuckled softly, putting the car in drive. "Fair enough."
Elena turned her face toward the glass watching the town slip past in streaks of lights and mid evening shadows. She wasn't ready to admit it—not to him, not even to herself—but for a few hours she hadn't felt like a complete ghost and the worst part was how much she hated that truth, because it proved something she didn't want to believe: the world keeps moving, even when yours has stopped.
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