Free Incandescent by River Savage

withdrawn. In the span of few weeks, I’ve seen him go from easygoing to downright angry.” I take a breath hoping I don’t mess this up. I’m trying to keep it together, but the way Nix keeps looking at me, I'm about to fall into a mess on the floor.
    Nix’s gaze softens. He nods his head, agreeing with my assessment, while Z’s mom just stares straight at me, no emotion to the facts of what I’m telling them. “I’m not sure if something has happened that you know of, something that could be making him lash out, or if it’s something in the playground or the classroom, but I’m concerned. I have tried to talk with him, pulled him aside to see if I could help, but I don’t feel like I’m getting through. At this stage, I would suggest the school counselor, someone neutral he can speak with, without any judgment. I can schedule that for him but I thought it was best to bring it to your attention first, offer you a chance to see if you want to address the issue yourselves,” I say, treading carefully. I’d hate to think that something at home could be causing it, but nine times out of ten, these sorts of things are.
    “Well, I can assure you it’s nothing at home. Isn’t that right, babe?” Addison looks over at Nix.
    “Jesus, woman, will you cut the fuckin’ act?” Nix bellows out. I’m startled for a moment. The intensity of his voice after being so quiet echoes in the empty classroom. His fist comes down on the desk in front of him, frightening me at the loud bang.
    “Addi.” He turns to face her, his large frame in a smaller chair looking every bit uncomfortable. His nickname for her does something to me that I have no idea how to process. “You and I both know something is going on with Z. I told you last week to talk to him. You failed to do it. Now, for once in his goddamn life, will you be the fucking mother I know you can be.” He runs his hands over his face in frustration.
    “Nix, he is fine,” she responds, shaking her head like this whole thing is a waste of her time. “This is ridiculous. You know our son; it’s just hormones. Let him be a boy.”
    I suddenly feel like I shouldn't be in this conversation. For one, I do not agree with her. Yes, Z is a boy, probably about to hit puberty, but he has gone from top of my class to detention every day; something is not adding up.
    “Like fuck it’s hormones. I've seen him pull back, and if you were a good mother, you would have seen it too. I fuckin' knew this shit was comin’,” Nix argues, shaking his head.
    Looking over at Addison, I see her face fall and I feel a little sorry for her. If my husband, ex or not, spoke to me in front of someone like that, I too would feel embarrassed.
    “Maybe I can suggest—” I begin to say before Addison cuts me off.
    “No, that’s quite all right. You’ve done enough. Thanks for letting us know. We will deal with this at home, as a family,” she responds coolly, rising from her chair. She looks down at Nix. “Will you walk me out, Nix?”
    “Sit your ass down, now,” he instructs her, still looking at me, not buying into her dramatics. She stands for a moment longer, not sure what to do, until she finally sits.
    “Is there anythin’ else?” His anger is evident, but I can feel his concern. I don’t know what to say. I want to encourage them to seek some help, advise that ignoring it will only make it worse, but after Addison’s outburst, I’m afraid I’ll just argue with her. The woman apparently doesn’t give a shit, but I do, and if I were his mother, I would be doing everything to find out what was happening.
    “Z’s not a bad kid,” I say, knowing I just used the name Z, but my eyes are now firmly on Nix because he seems to be the only one concerned for his son. “But I am certain something is or has happened. Giving him detention every day for his behavior isn’t going to stop him. He has proven that each time when he pushes further. I think if we can work together, then