Chapter 11: Permission
"Um, Dr. Vasquez, do you have a minute?"
Javier stood outside her office door with Tommy, both wearing their cleanest shirts and nervous expressions. The hallway smelled like old paint and burnt coffee from the staff break room. Tommy rubbed his palms against his jeans while Javier’s foot tapped against worn linoleum.
Sunday morning meant paperwork for Dr. Vasquez. Mountains of case files, court reports, and state inspections that determined whether kids had futures or just survival.
"For you two? Always. Come in." Dr. Vasquez looked up from her desk, glasses sliding down her nose. Dark circles under her eyes suggested another sleepless night worrying about seventeen different teenage lives. "What’s going on?"
Tommy’s nervous swallow was audible. "It’s important. About boxing."
"There’s a tournament. The Golden Gloves. But we can’t even sign up unless you let us," Javier said, his jaw tight with contained hope.
"We want to compete, but we need your signature on the papers. Please," Tommy added quickly.
Both boys stood frozen, holding their breath waiting for verdict.
Dr. Vasquez gestured toward the chairs facing her desk. She leaned back, studying their faces. Tommy’s leg bounced with nervous energy while Javier’s hands clenched and unclenched in his lap.
"I didn’t know you were taking it this seriously," Dr. Vasquez said, studying their determined faces.
"We are," Javier replied, his voice steady with conviction. "This is our chance to do something real."
"Miguel’s running a program at the rec center. He said we can join, but we need your permission for everything," Tommy explained.