Without Chance

Chapter Two: The Bible Thumper

The rest of the day was no different. I was ignored by most students, snickered at by a few, and I wasn't far behind in any of my classes. Two of them I was even ahead in. Chance and I didn't have any classes together I was disappointed to learn, so I didn't see him again until my dad came to pick me up.

My dad had been so thrilled that he'd worked out a work schedule that allowed him to both drop me off and pick me up. Unfortunately, it meant he was working six six-hour days every week. He seemed to think it was worth it though.

I had just climbed into the passenger side of my dad's green sedan when I spotted Chance by the school doors. I smiled and gave him a wave. He waved back, and grinned.

"New friend?" my dad asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, he's cool." I said casually. There was something about him that I really liked, but it certainly wasn't acceptable to say something like that to your father.

"Glad to hear it," he replied. "So your first day wasn't too bad after all."

"Could have been worse. Met the school bully though," I told him. He looked over at me, concerned.

"Everything okay?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, I've got it," I said, a little annoyed that he was prying before I reminded myself that I'd brought it up.

"Okay. Let me know if he becomes a problem, all right?"

"I said I've got it, Dad."

He nodded, and began the long drive home. We didn't speak the rest of the drive. We usually didn't. In fact, that conversation was the longest one we'd had in several months.

We pulled up in front of our little two bedroom rambler, gravel driveway crunching under the tires. At least it was shady, I thought. There were a lot more trees here than in Arizona. Good lawn, too. Enough space for some flag football, assuming I ever got enough friends to get a game going over here. I was beginning to think that was unlikely. Dad said this was 'prime horse country', whatever that meant.

I went straight to my bedroom, tossing my backpack on the bed and digging out my homework. Most of my stuff was still packed, but getting homework out of the way early was something I'd learned from my mom. Homework first, chores second, play third.

Might seem like a lame setup, but trust me, getting it all done and out of the way first thing always leaves me a lot more free time. I'm not sure how it always works out that way, but it does. Besides, it always made my mom happy when she'd come home from work and I'd already have homework and chores done. It never took that long when you just did it.

It also meant that my dad never had to come talk to me to make sure I was getting it done. He'd long ago learned I'd get it done quickly and first thing on my own, so he left me alone most of the time which is what I wanted anyway.

My dad left me alone again today as I sat in my big bean bag chair doing my algebra, and listening to my mp3 player. He used to complain that it was so loud that even with my headphones in he could hear it in the other room and how could I study with that racket, but it never bothered me. It helped me focus. He'd stopped talking to me about that, too.

He didn't come get me until it was time for dinner. By then I'd finished my algebra, my English, half of next week's Spanish, and had made a serious dent in my unpacking. I was just hanging up my old team jacket in the small closet when my dad came in.

"Hey Sport, dinner's ready," I turned my most biting glare his way. "Sorry. Ryan, dinner's ready." I turned away, but not before I caught the look in his eyes. Like a beaten puppy, I always thought. Hard to respect a man that broken, I thought to myself.