Chapter 2
Damn.
I watch the girl drop into her seat, her brown hair swishing in place behind her. Shoulders back, she stares straight ahead like she doesn’t give one single shit about what she just did. That’s kind of hot.
For some reason, my mind flashes to my mom, and something she said not too long ago.
“One of these days, some girl is going to give you back some of the shit you dish out,” she’d said.
It was after some blonde chick on the softball team had approached my mom at her late night shift at the local Wal-Mart and told her I was mean. Mom always thinks it’s cool when my school friends talk to her at work, but this time she was annoyed.
Maybe she was right though. Maybe some girls won’t put up with my shit.
I admire the back of her head for a few seconds, and then lean forward, trying to think of something to say. I’m about to tap her shoulder when the teacher slams the classroom door closed and walks to the front of the class.
“The bell has rung,” she says. “That means all talking will cease and all eyes will look forward.”
Geez. I’m glad I only have this class for fifteen minutes every day.
The teacher, whatever her name is, explains about homeroom this year. She says we will report to her class promptly and we won’t speak because fifteen minutes isn’t very long and we need to get all of the valuable information the school wants to tell us each day.
I chuckle under my breath because the only thing valuable the school could tell me is when the holidays are. A dark feeling falls over me as I realize that days off from school used to be the greatest thing ever. Now, I actually don’t mind being here eight hours a day, and longer on game days. Home has become a place I’d rather not be, at least without Mom there. Dad’s drinking problem has gone from annoying to downright pissing me off lately. And there’s nothing I can do. Mom tells me to let it go. She says just let him do his thing and stay out of his way. So long as Dad is still going to work every day, still bringing home the paychecks we need to survive, then we’re fine.
I say fuck that. Mom shouldn’t have to put up with his drunken bullshit every night before she goes to work. She works the night shift, and she sleeps during the day. But now she barely sleeps at all if Dad is home, because all he does is drink, yell, and be a bastard.
She says he’s harmless because he’s just an angry drunk, not a violent one. But we both know there’s a line here. And should my dad ever cross it, I will too.
The girl in front of me stares straight ahead, taking notes in a pink spiral. She doesn’t look over at anyone and she doesn’t talk. She must be one of those types that follows the rules.
I lean back in my chair while the teacher goes on and on about school expectations and all that other shit. I stare at the girl in front of me. Why haven’t I seen her before? Robert Cullen High isn’t that big of a place. Maybe she’s new.
Maybe I should offer to walk her to her next class. I glance over and see my teammates Beau and TJ, both looking bored as hell. If they see me try to talk up this girl, they’ll give me hell for it.
I decide to keep my mouth shut.
*
After soccer practice, TJ and Beau ask if I wanna hit up the Lone Star Diner for some burgers. As much as I’d love one of those damn burgers, with extra cheese and curly fries, I say no.
I have car insurance, a cell phone bill, and gas to put in my truck, all of which I have to pay for myself. I worked my ass off all summer, mowing lawns and delivering pizzas, and that money has to last. Unlike my dickhead friends, my parents don’t have any cash to spare for me. We all pay for ourselves at my house, and since soccer takes up most of my time once school starts, I’ll be lucky if I work two or three nights a week at Magic Mark’s Pizza.
“Why the hell not?” TJ asks, slamming his fist on the hood of my truck. “Burgers!”
“Burgers!” Beau says, louder. Some other guys from the team walk by and shout burgers too. Now it’s an all-out burger yelling match.
I shrug it off. “I got shit to do at home, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“He ain’t got shit to do,” Beau says.
“What, you got some homework?” TJ adds, rolling his eyes. “You suddenly a teacher’s pet?”
I laugh. There’s no way I’m telling them I need to save my money for more important things. So I lie. “If by homework, you mean a girl, then yeah.”
“Damn, bro.” TJ taps my hood again, this time giving me a look of appreciation. “Get the hell out of here then.”
I wish I was going home to meet a girl.
When I get home, I pull my truck next to Dad’s and cut the engine, sitting here for a minute. The lights are on in the living room, and the sound of my dad’s favorite Metallica album is flowing out of the house. At least it’s not cranked up as loud as it goes, which gets the cops called on us.
