Beating The Odds [Chapter One, Part One]

Chapter One - Part One1

The clock on the wall is driving me crazy. It's two thirty already, last period of the day. Art has always been my favorite class. I do well in my other classes too, except for Math, but art helps me escape. 2

Today we're finishing our animal sketches. My tiger drawing is almost done, I just have to shade his eyes. I reach for my pencil and notice him. Shane, my best friend. Rockstar good looks, in the scruffy I-don't-give-a-damn way. Dark eyes that scream ‘badass’ but that can sing a chorus of a love song that will make your heart melt. Tall and muscular, beneath a cover of black shirts and attitude. He doesn't smile often, but when he does, it's a shy sweet smile that makes me forget all the bad things. 3

We met after Daddy's funeral in my Sophomore year. Daddy had been suffering for years with the cancer, but by the time they caught it, it was too late. I was walking through the park, still in my funeral clothes, when I came to rest on that park bench. When he sat down I hardly noticed, for the tears that were flowing blocked out all other senses. He had asked me what was wrong, and I explained.4

He comforted me that day as we walked around the park, just the two of us. I knew who he was from school and had had a few classes with him. And although we had never spoken before, I felt as if I had known him my whole life.5

That was two years ago. We're Seniors now, and still the best of friends. We're all each other has really. Anytime I need him, it's like he can sense it. He knows when I'm upset, and calms me when I'm down. That day in the park, changed my life. I had never had a best friend before. I always kept to myself, even in grade school. But when Dad passed, he was there, and he helped fill the void that was eating me apart. 6

We have a lot in common, Shane and I. Both loners and art freaks, both from dysfunctional families who...well, really don't care.7

Once again I look up and find him looking back at me. He flashes me that warm, gentle smile and bows his head low over his sketch. He furrows his brow as he concentrates hard on his drawing. He's a much better artist than I am, but I do well. 8

I'm sitting at the table across from his today, and I watch him for a few moments. The sun from the open window is shining in on him, casting a soft glow around him. It's almost angelic in a way.9

I smile to myself as he wipes his brow, smudging charcoal on his forehead unintentionally. I laugh softly under my breath, because it reminds me of playing cowboys and Indians as a child, with the charcoal smeared like war paint. He looks up at me again, and sticks his tongue out playfully at me, I just return the favor, shaking my head as if to say to him ‘you're so silly’. 10

Samantha Roberts is at my table today. Cheerleader and Student Council President. The typical model student and Homecoming Queen. Her best friend Joy Marshall is sitting with her, and they're chatting animatedly while speed texting on their cell phones. They apparently had been watching the exchange between Shane and I. 11

Samantha rolls her eyes at me and says, "what could you possibly see in him? I mean, sure, he's hot...but what a loser!" 12

They both burst into fits of giggles as my temper rises to breaking point. Samantha and Joy love to test my nerves. They get some sick pleasure out of tearing people down. They both hate me because I stand up to them, when most of the school just goes along with whatever they throw at them. 13

"You aren't one to judge people, Samantha. You're not perfect either. Your reputation proves that. You're nothing but a pompom toting slut...both of you," I say to them, trying to keep my voice down. 14

They both just look at me with superior smugness and turn not to their projects, but back to their cell phones. 15

Shane looks up at me with a questioning look, and I simply smile and shake my head to let him know it's no big deal. 16

When the bell rings, signaling the end of another tedious day, I pack up my things and hand in my sketch. As I turn slowly away from the teacher's desk, I see him. Standing in the doorway with his backpack slung loosely over his shoulder, waiting to walk me home, like he's done everyday since we met. 17

We leave the classroom together and make a left at the water fountain, to our block of lockers. 18

"What did Samantha say to you that had you all worked up?" he asks me.19

"Just being her usual bitchy, rude self. No biggie," I reply, as I put my math book in my bag. 20

"C'mon Tar, I know that look, what did she say?" he asks, with a knowing look. 21

I sigh and look up into his smoky eyes and say, "she called you a loser, so I put her in her place." 22

He smiles at me and puts his arm around my shoulder and says, "thanks Taryn," and nudges my forehead with his chin. 23

"What are friends for, Shane? And besides, I love standing up to her. She deserves it, she's a bitch...although I was a little harsh with the 'pompom toting slut' remark," I reply.24

He laughs and grabs his backpack, and we set off up the corridor. Just like every day, Shane stops at the vending machines next to the lunchroom to purchase an orange Faygo. It's his favorite and we share one everyday on our walk home. He offers me a sip and after taking one, I hand him back the bottle as we make our way to the front doors.25

It's November and the leaves are bright and colorful, the sky is a clear blue today, with puffy, snow white clouds. I pull my hoody over my head and sling my backpack over my shoulder again as we make our way down the path towards the sidewalk. It's chilly today and there's a light breeze blowing. I put my hands in the pockets of my jeans and shiver a little as we start our journey home. 26

Neither of us live far from school, six or seven blocks. The day Shane and I met, I discovered that he lived just down the block from me, on Franklin Boulevard. Even though my house is out of the way, he walks me to my door everyday. I look forward to these walks, because we have a chance to talk, just us. With no interruptions like in school or at home. 27

We talk about art class and how disgusting the lunch at school is. Shane makes a joke about our eccentric math teacher Mr. Curtis as we round the corner to my street. The wind blows hard and I cross my arms in front of my chest. Shane moves closer to me to block the wind from reaching me as we walk up the sidewalk. 28

When we finally reach my block, I notice the blue station wagon in the driveway, where Dad's truck used to be. 29

"He's there...great. God I hate him," I say to Shane. 30

We stop walking and stand on the sidewalk in front of my house. My step Dad, Mike. Alcoholic low-life with no job. He uses and abuses my mother, but she lets him. 31

Mom and Dad were never officially married, but they were happy when he was alive. Mom used to be my best friend, but when he died, she changed. Started dating losers and forgot that I existed. 32

Most days I just hang out in my bedroom, only coming downstairs for dinner, which I usually eat while I study, by myself in my room. I don't mind so much that me and Mom don't talk. Most times I like the silence, just being able to collect my thoughts and go about my business. It's the fighting I can't stand. When we do talk, it's usually to confirm my list of household chores, or her telling me she won't be home that night. She works the graveyard shift at the nursing home, and on her nights off, her and Mike go out to the bars and don't come home until the roosters are crowing. 33

He hits her sometimes and it makes me angry. The last time I tried to help her, she screamed at me and shoved me away. So when it happens, I just leave the house. On the nights that they fight, I go to Shane's house. Mom never notices I'm gone. All of her attention is focused on her job and Mike. Shane's parents don't care, because like my mother, his Mom and step father couldn‘t give a shit less.34

On the nights I stay with Shane, he lets me sleep on his bed and he camps out on the floor. Sometimes I cry at night when I'm sleeping over, and he crawls into the bed and holds me, and tells me it'll be alright. 35

I turn to Shane and he opens his arms for a hug. 36

I walk over to him and hug him close to me and he whispers in my ear, "if you need me, let me know. We'll hang out later, ok?" 37

I nod and smile up at him. We say our goodbyes and I thank him for walking me home, like I do every day.38

I walk into the house to find Mike watching TV amidst a pile of empty beer cans and Mom, once again, pouring over a stack of bills on the dining room table. Neither of them look up or speak to me as I head for the stairs. 39

I enter my room and set my bag down on my bed. Dad helped me paint my room when I was a Freshman. We white washed the walls and splattered it with paint in all different colors. When we were finished, we were both covered in paint and laughing so hard we had tears in our eyes.
I cross the room and gaze out of the window. I can see Shane turning down the alley towards his house. Most days we meet in the alley and walk over to the park where we met. 40

The bench is kind of our special place. When things are bad at his house or mine, we sit there and talk about it. The bench is almost magical in that way. He brings his iPod and we listen to music, or Shane will bring his guitar and play for me. Since the weather's been cold and wet lately, we've taken to hanging out in one of our bedrooms, secluded from everyone. We do our homework or watch movies together. Sometimes we work on our art projects and he helps me with my Math.41

Shane is an amazing artist, the way he can express himself on paper astounds me sometimes. I wish I could express myself like he does...to him. 42

I think I fell in love with him last year when Brad Banks, captain of the basketball team, made a rude sexual comment to me in Gym class one day. He accompanied the remark with a slap on my butt, and before I could retaliate, Brad was lying on the Gym floor with a broken nose, courtesy of Shane. 43

Shane is the eternal bad boy, dark and mysterious, but sweet and caring to me. 44

I pull my hoody off and hang it over my desk chair, before settling myself on my bed to begin my book report. A few hours later and my report on ‘Of Mice and Men’ is complete. 45

Just as I turn on my computer to type my report, the phone rings. It's Shane. I get that flutter in my chest when I hear his voice. He wants to hang out. We make plans to meet in the alley, so we can go to the park. Our park. Our special place. 46

As I hang up the phone, I glance at the picture of Dad on my bedside table. I miss him a lot, and I fight back the tears that always come when I think of him. I wipe my eyes and pick up my hoody. I can type my report later, but for now I must meet Shane.