Knockout Boys

Chapter 10: Dead Meat

The pork chops sizzled and spat in the home made barbecue pit, the fat dripping into the flames as the skin hardened and crackled. Dad poked the coals, keeping them hot and red. Dad had been up since five in the morning, slow cooking a recipe passed down from the Stone Age, according to him. "Someday, son," he proudly declared, "you'll learn to barbecue yourself. I'll teach you, man to man."

I sullenly jerked my eyes from the cooking pork, relating more to the dead meat than the he-man Dad expected me to be. By the end of today, I would be as good as dead. Paul would make sure of that. I shuddered, recalling the venomous hate in his wild eyes the other day when he beat me to a pulp. That's the funny thing about aggressive people. They're like mama bears when they're on your side, but if you fall out, your life is over.

"Is something wrong, son?" Dad frowned in concern as I stared at him blankly, my eyes glazed over. "Still feeling sick?"

I nodded. "Yeah, the doctor said it might be a few weeks this time."

Dad nodded. "Well, stay out as long as you can. If you get tired, you better head to bed. I don't care what your mother says." He smiled at me, and I smiled back. Sometimes Dad was all right.

I helped him adjust the pork chops so the cooking was even. He tried to make conversation, but I was too lost in my thoughts. I had a new ally to defend me from the monster Paul had become. No, not just an ally, a friend. I couldn't help my lips turn up, and I hid my face from Dad so he wouldn't ask me about it. I, Rocky Apollo, weirdo nerd loser, had a friend. A friend who knew and accepted all my ugly and pathetic, who was there for me even though I was too weak to be of use to him.

I must have zoned out because out of nowhere, guests appeared. My Dad was nudging me with his foot, saying something about introducing me to the Robinsons. Reluctantly, I got up to follow him. The world spun for a second, but it righted itself in time for me to shake hands with the family and their gorgeous teen model daughter, River. She looked like a rocker, black skinny jeans and a denim jacket, piercings decorating her ears and eyebrow.

"Hi," I said nervously. She was a total knockout, so pretty she might turn me straight. I had no idea how Mom thought I had a chance with her.

River made a face. "Hello." She might as well have said ew. She didn't shake my hand, and I wasn't surprised. Teenagers hated me, Kevin being the only exception.

I ended up awkwardly chatting with River's strange parents because she made a quick escape to chill with the cooler teenagers there, including Paul, of course. Whatever, I'd hang out with Kevin. I looked around for him, but he hadn't arrived yet.

"How's school, Rocky?" Mr. Robinson was saying. He had a beard, but his head was totally bald, shiny on top and shaved on the sides. I guess he preferred the chainsaw murderer look to the middle-aged father.

"It's great," I lied shamelessly.

"I heard you are a prodigy," Ms. Robinson gushed. "Moved up a grade." She was short and petite and dressed like a cowgirl. Somehow Dad was friends with these weirdos - boring Dad, whose greatest adventures in suburbia were barbecue and fantasy football.

I shrugged. "Not really, ma'am. I just spend a lot of time on schoolwork because I have no life."

Her parents laughed, as if I said a funny joke. "It's better that way, trust me," Ms. Robinson said. "When I was in high school, I got into all sorts of trouble. I tell River, stay in school and you'll go far later in life." She sighed and ran her hands through her blond hair. "I'd do it over, if I could," she said thoughtfully. "What I would give to be your age again. Your life is full of possibilities."