Okay, I'm upping the rating to PG-13 for violence. If you have a weak
stomach, you might want to skip the very end of this.
I'm SOOOOOO sorry for the long wait! I have THREE major projects due, LOTS of homework, busy days, three ongoing stories (only two of which I've been updating), and only ONE hour on the computer per day. So this has taken awhile and I'm very sorry. I hope you like this chapter event though I made you wait so long. I've just been SO busy and I don't expect it to get any better...o.O...I was WAY too optimistic with my time...
Liz- Yeah, George was mean to Julie...bad Mr. Conway! That part was depressing...but oh well. And no prob with the support thing. ^_^ I love ya, sis! ^_^ All hail the drama-queen moment! And thank you, I'm glad you liked it. Okies. One tally for romance. I'll have to see what everyone else says too. ^_^
The Bunny Who Is Bound For The Land Of Revision But Is Procrastinating...- Oooh, hanging up on the parental units is never good...^_^ Aw, thanks! ^_^ It's okay; I still love you even if you are impaired in the sentimental similes area. ^_^ Thank you. Lol, thank you. I'm gonna do several things with the romance angle if I can. I hope it won't take anything away from it...and yes, there will be a relationship between Julie and Charlie...whoops, did I just give that away? o.O...um, pretend you didn't read that so you will still be surprised...lol, I'm glad you liked my linkage! ^_^ Yes, silly Sophie! Thinking George was anything by a stark- raving-mad psychopath...Wow, only since Chapter 12? You're JOKING! Really? Dang...it feels like so much longer...*hugs* Love ya lots! Oh, and this chapter is nice and angst-y! ^_^
Rachel00- Aw, thanks for reviewing! It makes me feel good when I know people are reading my story. Thanks for reviewing and all your nice comments!
Banksiesbabe99- Yeah, I'm glad you hate George in all his rudeness. ^_^ Lol. Thanks bunches!
DodgerMcClue.aka.Drama-Queen- Lol, yes. But it George weren't a prick, this would be no fun. ^_^ Lol. Thanks for reviewing!
Adriana3- Thanks! Don't worry, it won't take over the plot. I have several twists in the romance department ready. You peeps just gotta be patient with me. ^_^ If it seems cliché at first, very sorry. But don't worry, I'm working on fitting in some originality. ^_^ Have fun with your evil science homework...*cough* I hate science too...
KShyne99- Thanks bunches! Aw, thanks! I'm glad you're glad it's gonna be longer. ^_^ Yes, romance is good. I'm glad everyone seems to be okay with it. And I have a major twist in the romance section. I'm planning on throwing everybody off of the scent. ^_^ Not that I don't totally give away all the surprises in author's notes anyway...^_^ Anyway, thanks for reviewing!
Disclaimer- I still don't own the Mighty Ducks trilogy...
-Chapter 21-
The next morning, Charlie nearly slept in. Alyssa hadn't been there to wake him up. Yes, he had the Possessed Alarm Clock, but it just wasn't the same.
He had rolled out of bed, taken a shower, put on jeans and a Pantera t- shirt, brushed his hair and teeth, and left without breakfast. He refused to stay in that household longer than necessary.
He breezed through his first few classes and dreading going to lunch. Not only was he starving and without lunch money, but he had nowhere SAFE to sit. The JV team didn't like him because he was on Varsity and the VARSITY didn't like him because he was on Varsity.
Now why does that sound EXTREMELY unfair?
He found out, to his dismay, there were very few seats left. The only ones, OF COURSE, were at the table by the JV. Sitting with Varsity was out of the question. Even if he had to sit in close proximity to the less dangerous party, there was no other way.
The very depressed teen trudged over and sat down near the loud, obnoxious JV hockey team.
He realized he had nothing better to do than sit and either A) Watch the JV team, or B) Sit there and act like he had no PROBLEM sitting there with no lunch, no life, and no friends.
He would stick with A, as much as it pained him that he truly had nothing better to do. It was better then becoming Duck Delight On A Stick by sitting with the Varsity.
So he sat there and watched them carrying out activities similar to the ones they did the first time he saw them.
Brice saw him sitting there, staring off into space with a bored expression and took it upon himself to walk over there.
"Hey." Brice said, sitting down next to Charlie.
The sudden break out of his trance startled Charlie and he whipped his head towards Brice. "Hey? When'd you get over here? I thought you were over there." He said, pointing to where Brice had been sitting ten minutes earlier. Since then he had moved three times.
"Nope. What are you doing over here? Shouldn't you be sitting with the Varsity?" he asked without the bitterness Charlie was sure they all had.
"They don't like me very much." Charlie explained simply. "I decided unless I want to be the victim in a Deck-a-Duck contest with my head on a platter, it's smartest to keep a safe distance when humanly possible."
Brice nodded. "Bummer. Well, if you have no problem crossing enemy lines you can sit with us. We don't bite often. Well, Chris's current fling might, but that's a totally different story." Brice said, scrunching up his face for a moment.
Charlie nodded. "I guess I have no problem with it as long as your friends aren't gonna jump me the second I sit down." He said.
"Okay. Then come on." Brice said, standing up and walking back over to Halley. Charlie followed him.
Whenever they sat down, Charlie could feel the air chill several significant degrees. He decided he was going to ignore them.
"Hey Charlie." Halley said, taking a bite out of her sandwich.
"Hey." He said back.
The table got quiet.
"What?" Charlie asked, practically suffocating in the tension. He was almost afraid if he made any rash movement the air would crack, the sky would fall, and the earth would open up from below and swallow them all up into oblivion.
But that could just be his over-reactive, food-deprived imagination.
"OH, so NOW you aren't too good for us?" one of them asked, giving Charlie a cold glare.
Just as Charlie was about to shoot out a defensive retort, Halley interrupted him.
"He never said he thought he was too good for us. Now stop whining and get over yourself. Some of us are trying to eat and have pleasant, adult conversations." She said saucily, taking another bite from her ham sandwich.
Once she swallowed she turned back to Charlie. "Hi again. Sorry, I apologize for my teammates' immaturity. I'm sure you understand." She said with a smile.
"Yes, I understand." He said with a small grin.
"So are you doing anything on Sunday?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Um, I don't think so. Why?" he asked.
"Because she's hitting on your poor, helpless little Freshman butt." One of the guys snickered from across the table.
"I am NOT, hitting on him!" she snapped before turning back to Charlie to finish what she was saying, "I was just going to say that we were all heading down to the mall to hang out and I wanted to know if you wanted to come, seeing as you probably have nothing better to do." She said, sending another heated glare at the guy, signifying she would kill him as soon as he was within arms length.
Charlie couldn't help but laugh. "The sad thing is you're very right, I truly do have nothing better to do with my time. So as long as you won't mind my poor, helpless little Freshman butt tagging along, then I'll see if I can come." He said with a grin.
"Oh, your poor, helpless little Freshman butt can tag along anytime." She said with a wink and a grin.
"Uh oh, better watch it kid. Now you should be afraid." Another guy joked. She gave him a hard glare.
Charlie was surprised that the others were beginning to talk to him. Whatever happed to hating him?
"Don't listen to them." She said, sending them warning looks.
"Okay. So...Um, anyway, what grade are you in?" he asked.
"I'm a Junior. And anything they say about me is most likely a lie." She said, continuing her random looks across the table, daring them to make another snide remark.
"Ah. Well, that's cool...any lies I should be looking out for?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
She took in a breath. "None that I care to admit to right now. Chips?" she asked, holding out a bag of chips in Charlie's direction.
He shrugged and accepted the gift.
"Thanks." He said with a smile. Sure chips weren't the most filling of foods, but it's the thought that counts.
"Hey, Charlie, did you get the math notes..." Brice asked as they launched into a semi-interesting conversation about their algebra teacher's false teeth, which somehow evolved from math notes.
~~~*~~~
It was noon and George Conway sat in the living room, seething with anger. He needed a new job...and it was all that stupid kid's fault!
He had figured by bringing Charlie to Montana, it would make things easier. He would get sympathy from the government because of the death of his wife...or, actually murder...but that isn't the point.
He had collected all the money from Casey's death and wasn't surprised when it wasn't all that much. Luckily she hadn't bothered to change her will since before they separated. Therefore, all her belongings legally belonged to him...
And Charlie.
But the boy himself had turned out to be very different from the four-year- old child he had missed over the years. He had done all he could to get Charlie to like him. He really had. He gave him a nice home to live in, sent him to a nice school, and done his best to be nice. Even at the beginning during Charlie's 'adjustment phase.' But the boy insisted on being stubborn. George had gone through great lengths to get rid of Casey and how was he repaid? With an unappreciative son.
George had decided it was better that Charlie be with him. Casey couldn't handle him. If she could, George decided his son would be MUCH more polite and well rounded. So he was really doing them a favor. But Charlie...Charlie was completely unappreciative. He caused George to look bad in front of colleagues, bosses, and other important people.
Then the boy went and got him fired.
George growled and slammed his fists on the coffee table. Then he saw a bottle out of the corner of his eye.
It was a bottle of beer.
George had sworn off alcohol when it cost him his son. But now, he didn't care if he lost his son. His son was an undeserving, spoiled, disrespectful brat.
He got up and opened the bottle, taking a swig. His lips curled into a smile as the liquid flowed down his throat.
George Conway decided that all his son needed in order to become a respectful, upright citizen was a little...motivation...a little...discipline...
~~~*~~~
School had ended for the day and for the first time since he had arrived in Montana, Charlie returned home in a good mood. He found out that the JV team agreed to tolerate him and Varsity just ignored him. There were no violent outbreaks in the locker room and he was still breathing. He had even managed to finish his homework during Study Hall.
Charlie was getting the feeling things might be getting better.
He swung open the front door, a light smile on his lips. He dropped his bag to the ground carelessly and tossed his roller blades next to them.
He bolted up his room and closed the door behind him. He then proceeded to pick up the phone. He held it for a few moments, debating the pros and cons of going against what his father said. To call, or not to call...that, is the question...
Pro- Get to talk to the Ducks.
Con- Father will find out.
Pro- Get a chance to reconnect with past life.
Con- Father gets angry.
Pro- Find out if Bombay has made any progress in getting him home.
Con- Father proceeds to commit voluntary child-slaughter.
Pro- If Father commits aforementioned slaughter, gets to see Mom.
Con- Won't get to see Ducks anymore because of aforementioned slaughter.
Charlie tapped his chin and furrowed his eyebrows as he contemplated his choices. Was it worth it?
Of course it was.
He took in a deep breath, dialed the number, and said a quick prayer that someone would pick up.
He heard a click and a male voice answer the phone. Charlie out a sigh of relief as a smile crept back onto his face.
"Hey Fulton!" he said in an abnormally happy voice.
Fulton blinked a few times at Charlie's tone. 'Hey dude, what's up?' he asked, once he recovered.
"Not too much. I'm still breathing; and I assure you, that is good news. How have you guys been?" Charlie replied.
'Good, I guess. Orion's still mad about you leaving...not that you could really help it. We totally blew that game right after you left. It was very embarrassing. It's not that we haven't ever played without you before, it's just the stress of it all was a little overwhelming. I wish we could just abduct you and bring you back. We could keep you in the closet and feed you scraps.' Fulton joked.
Charlie laughed. "I could live with that. Yes, that would do quite nicely." Charlie said, grinning through the phone.
'Anyway man, we really miss you. It isn't the same.' Fulton said, this time more serious.
"I miss you guys too. Two people on the JV team talk to me and the rest tolerate me whenever the two are around. Other times they just pretend I either don't exist or that I'm secretly plotting to kill them. As for Varsity, my TEAMMATES," he said, sarcastically emphasizing 'teammates', "they refuse to positively acknowledge my presence off of the ice and do their best to make my life miserable on the ice. But at least then they're semi-civil. As bizarre as that sounds..." Charlie said, shaking his head.
'That's pitiful...' Fulton interjected.
"Yeah. It really is-" Charlie started before his door swung open.
Charlie nearly fell off his bed in surprise. His head whipped up to face his father, his eyes wide. He had the 'deer-in-headlights' look on his face.
Before Charlie had the chance to say goodbye his father grabbed the phone and hung it up. He didn't even offer as much as an explanation to Fulton...not that Charlie expected him to.
Charlie just hardened his expression and got off his bed, brushing past his father as he walked down the stairs. He would call Fulton back later and apologize. Right now he was leaving. He didn't know where he would go, but he was getting out of that house before he did something that he might either regret or pay dearly for.
His father, however, apparently didn't agree with this.
"Where do you think you're going? Do you think I'm gonna to let you just walk off?" George yelled as he stumbled after the boy, both walking into the kitchen.
Charlie stopped and turned back. His father's eyes were bloodshot and angry. He found this odd. Charlie hadn't seen that look since...
~*~ Flashback ~*~
A four-year old boy with bright blue eyes ran into kitchen, clutching his drawing happily. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his father clutching a glass beer bottle and screaming at his mother.
The boy didn't stop in time to go unnoticed.
A look of fear swept across his young mother's face as the brunette child's father turned toward him with bloodshot eyes. He had been drinking.
Without a second thought, the child bolted back to his bedroom, the drawing forgotten. He closed his door and cried as he heard his parents resume the fight they had been belting out before he had interrupted.
He erupted into a fit of quiet sobs as he clutched his drawing to his chest along with a stuffed brown teddy bear.
~*~ End Flashback ~*~
Charlie froze up. He begged his muscles to move but as hard as he struggled, his legs refused to relent.
Charlie saw something shiny out of the corner of his eye. He quickly took a peek to find out what the object was.
A beer bottle.
Charlie gulped slightly as his gaze shifted back to his father. Apparently his father hadn't noticed.
Before Charlie knew it, his father was about a foot away.
"ANSWER ME! Did you think I was just gonna let you walk off?!" George Conway boomed as he shifted into a threatening stance.
As hard as Charlie struggled to find words, he felt choked up. He couldn't make the words come out so he just shook his head.
"Then WHY, oh bright child of mine, DID YOU DO IT?!" he asked, his face inches from his son's.
"I-I..." Charlie stuttered, his throat dry.
"ANSWER ME!" Mr. Conway said, shoving Charlie backwards against the wall. Charlie head hit a shelf and he could feel a small amount of blood seep out from the cut. He desperately wanted to reach his hand up to touch it; to see if it was real. But again, his limbs refused to respond to his brain.
"I-I dunno." He managed to stutter out. Charlie couldn't believe himself. His brain screamed at him to fight back but he couldn't seem to move. He was frozen in place. He couldn't believe how little control he had over this situation.
George Conway grabbed his son by the shirt and dragged him back out into the middle of the kitchen. As he practically flung Charlie out of his grasp, Charlie hopped back a few steps to keep from falling.
"What were you doing on that phone? WHAT did I tell you about calling LONG DISTANCE?!" George shouted again. His breath reeked of alcohol.
Charlie blinked and tried to compose himself. This was a difficult task because his head was throbbing and he could feel his hair wet slightly from the blood.
"You said n-not to do it." He said, trying not to wince. He wouldn't give the man any more satisfaction than necessary.
"Then WHY did you do it?" he asked, almost resembling calm for a moment.
"I-I dunno." Charlie said weakly again.
"YOU DON'T KNOW?!" his father bellowed, hitting Charlie square in the chest, knocking him back into a shelf containing shot glasses and some other dishes. "Well then I'll tell you. It's because you're a NO-GOOD, WORTHLESS little juvenile DELINQUENT! If you would LISTEN TO ME, you would be BETTER OFF! You have done NOTHING but cause TROUBLE the whole time you've been here you ungrateful little brat! When you got in that mess about the money *I* got you out! Did I get a thank you? NO! I got MORE trouble from you!" his father screamed.
Charlie's hand reflexively went to his head. The blood was coming out more rapidly and he could feel the glass cut his hands as he tried to get it out. All the dishes and shot glasses had broken and he was feeling lightheaded from the blood loss. His head was swimming with confusion. The words his father were screaming slurred together and Charlie was finding it harder and harder to comprehend. He felt himself slip in and out.
He felt a hard slap snap him back into reality.
He jerked backwards to see his dad waiting expectantly for him to say something.
Oh no...had his dad asked him something?!
His father yanked him up, bumping the boy's head on the shelf again. Charlie yelped in pain. His knees buckled and he fell back down to the ground.
"Stand up, boy!" he said, kicking him in the side.
Just as George Conway was about to continue berating his son, the phone rang. Charlie silently prayed his father would pick it up and that it WASN'T one of the Ducks. Even though he knew his father would never give him the phone in the first place, he still didn't want to think about it.
Luckily, the elder Conway went to pick up the phone in the living room, but not before giving Charlie a warning look.
Charlie held in tears threatening to spill. He was too old to cry. There was no way he would let his father win.
After tentatively brushing his hand through his hair to knock out a few more of the larger glass pieces, he summoned all his strength to stand up.
While his father was on the phone, Charlie snuck out the side door and started walking. He was surprised how well his father could speak on the phone, even after drinking.
He carefully brushed his fingers over his swollen lip and felt semi-dry blood. He probably looked like a mess. Charlie had no clue where to go now that he was out of the house. The Ducks were in another state and he didn't have any close friends in Montana yet.
He wobbled and grabbed onto the mailbox to steady himself. He had to think quickly. Too bad that was hard to do when your head was throbbing and bleeding like nobody's business...
He let out a dejected sigh and decided on the park. It seemed to be a nice outlet for the moment. Maybe once he got there he would think of something.
Charlie arrived at the park about five minutes later. His head was throbbing and he was dizzy. Blood was still in his hair and his head felt sticky. His lip hurt and his back ached. His chest was sore and his upper arms still hurt a little from the day before.
The boy was about to sit down on a bench when his knees buckled. He fumbled to the ground, scraping his face on the pavement as his world went black.
I'm SOOOOOO sorry for the long wait! I have THREE major projects due, LOTS of homework, busy days, three ongoing stories (only two of which I've been updating), and only ONE hour on the computer per day. So this has taken awhile and I'm very sorry. I hope you like this chapter event though I made you wait so long. I've just been SO busy and I don't expect it to get any better...o.O...I was WAY too optimistic with my time...
Liz- Yeah, George was mean to Julie...bad Mr. Conway! That part was depressing...but oh well. And no prob with the support thing. ^_^ I love ya, sis! ^_^ All hail the drama-queen moment! And thank you, I'm glad you liked it. Okies. One tally for romance. I'll have to see what everyone else says too. ^_^
The Bunny Who Is Bound For The Land Of Revision But Is Procrastinating...- Oooh, hanging up on the parental units is never good...^_^ Aw, thanks! ^_^ It's okay; I still love you even if you are impaired in the sentimental similes area. ^_^ Thank you. Lol, thank you. I'm gonna do several things with the romance angle if I can. I hope it won't take anything away from it...and yes, there will be a relationship between Julie and Charlie...whoops, did I just give that away? o.O...um, pretend you didn't read that so you will still be surprised...lol, I'm glad you liked my linkage! ^_^ Yes, silly Sophie! Thinking George was anything by a stark- raving-mad psychopath...Wow, only since Chapter 12? You're JOKING! Really? Dang...it feels like so much longer...*hugs* Love ya lots! Oh, and this chapter is nice and angst-y! ^_^
Rachel00- Aw, thanks for reviewing! It makes me feel good when I know people are reading my story. Thanks for reviewing and all your nice comments!
Banksiesbabe99- Yeah, I'm glad you hate George in all his rudeness. ^_^ Lol. Thanks bunches!
DodgerMcClue.aka.Drama-Queen- Lol, yes. But it George weren't a prick, this would be no fun. ^_^ Lol. Thanks for reviewing!
Adriana3- Thanks! Don't worry, it won't take over the plot. I have several twists in the romance department ready. You peeps just gotta be patient with me. ^_^ If it seems cliché at first, very sorry. But don't worry, I'm working on fitting in some originality. ^_^ Have fun with your evil science homework...*cough* I hate science too...
KShyne99- Thanks bunches! Aw, thanks! I'm glad you're glad it's gonna be longer. ^_^ Yes, romance is good. I'm glad everyone seems to be okay with it. And I have a major twist in the romance section. I'm planning on throwing everybody off of the scent. ^_^ Not that I don't totally give away all the surprises in author's notes anyway...^_^ Anyway, thanks for reviewing!
Disclaimer- I still don't own the Mighty Ducks trilogy...
-Chapter 21-
The next morning, Charlie nearly slept in. Alyssa hadn't been there to wake him up. Yes, he had the Possessed Alarm Clock, but it just wasn't the same.
He had rolled out of bed, taken a shower, put on jeans and a Pantera t- shirt, brushed his hair and teeth, and left without breakfast. He refused to stay in that household longer than necessary.
He breezed through his first few classes and dreading going to lunch. Not only was he starving and without lunch money, but he had nowhere SAFE to sit. The JV team didn't like him because he was on Varsity and the VARSITY didn't like him because he was on Varsity.
Now why does that sound EXTREMELY unfair?
He found out, to his dismay, there were very few seats left. The only ones, OF COURSE, were at the table by the JV. Sitting with Varsity was out of the question. Even if he had to sit in close proximity to the less dangerous party, there was no other way.
The very depressed teen trudged over and sat down near the loud, obnoxious JV hockey team.
He realized he had nothing better to do than sit and either A) Watch the JV team, or B) Sit there and act like he had no PROBLEM sitting there with no lunch, no life, and no friends.
He would stick with A, as much as it pained him that he truly had nothing better to do. It was better then becoming Duck Delight On A Stick by sitting with the Varsity.
So he sat there and watched them carrying out activities similar to the ones they did the first time he saw them.
Brice saw him sitting there, staring off into space with a bored expression and took it upon himself to walk over there.
"Hey." Brice said, sitting down next to Charlie.
The sudden break out of his trance startled Charlie and he whipped his head towards Brice. "Hey? When'd you get over here? I thought you were over there." He said, pointing to where Brice had been sitting ten minutes earlier. Since then he had moved three times.
"Nope. What are you doing over here? Shouldn't you be sitting with the Varsity?" he asked without the bitterness Charlie was sure they all had.
"They don't like me very much." Charlie explained simply. "I decided unless I want to be the victim in a Deck-a-Duck contest with my head on a platter, it's smartest to keep a safe distance when humanly possible."
Brice nodded. "Bummer. Well, if you have no problem crossing enemy lines you can sit with us. We don't bite often. Well, Chris's current fling might, but that's a totally different story." Brice said, scrunching up his face for a moment.
Charlie nodded. "I guess I have no problem with it as long as your friends aren't gonna jump me the second I sit down." He said.
"Okay. Then come on." Brice said, standing up and walking back over to Halley. Charlie followed him.
Whenever they sat down, Charlie could feel the air chill several significant degrees. He decided he was going to ignore them.
"Hey Charlie." Halley said, taking a bite out of her sandwich.
"Hey." He said back.
The table got quiet.
"What?" Charlie asked, practically suffocating in the tension. He was almost afraid if he made any rash movement the air would crack, the sky would fall, and the earth would open up from below and swallow them all up into oblivion.
But that could just be his over-reactive, food-deprived imagination.
"OH, so NOW you aren't too good for us?" one of them asked, giving Charlie a cold glare.
Just as Charlie was about to shoot out a defensive retort, Halley interrupted him.
"He never said he thought he was too good for us. Now stop whining and get over yourself. Some of us are trying to eat and have pleasant, adult conversations." She said saucily, taking another bite from her ham sandwich.
Once she swallowed she turned back to Charlie. "Hi again. Sorry, I apologize for my teammates' immaturity. I'm sure you understand." She said with a smile.
"Yes, I understand." He said with a small grin.
"So are you doing anything on Sunday?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Um, I don't think so. Why?" he asked.
"Because she's hitting on your poor, helpless little Freshman butt." One of the guys snickered from across the table.
"I am NOT, hitting on him!" she snapped before turning back to Charlie to finish what she was saying, "I was just going to say that we were all heading down to the mall to hang out and I wanted to know if you wanted to come, seeing as you probably have nothing better to do." She said, sending another heated glare at the guy, signifying she would kill him as soon as he was within arms length.
Charlie couldn't help but laugh. "The sad thing is you're very right, I truly do have nothing better to do with my time. So as long as you won't mind my poor, helpless little Freshman butt tagging along, then I'll see if I can come." He said with a grin.
"Oh, your poor, helpless little Freshman butt can tag along anytime." She said with a wink and a grin.
"Uh oh, better watch it kid. Now you should be afraid." Another guy joked. She gave him a hard glare.
Charlie was surprised that the others were beginning to talk to him. Whatever happed to hating him?
"Don't listen to them." She said, sending them warning looks.
"Okay. So...Um, anyway, what grade are you in?" he asked.
"I'm a Junior. And anything they say about me is most likely a lie." She said, continuing her random looks across the table, daring them to make another snide remark.
"Ah. Well, that's cool...any lies I should be looking out for?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
She took in a breath. "None that I care to admit to right now. Chips?" she asked, holding out a bag of chips in Charlie's direction.
He shrugged and accepted the gift.
"Thanks." He said with a smile. Sure chips weren't the most filling of foods, but it's the thought that counts.
"Hey, Charlie, did you get the math notes..." Brice asked as they launched into a semi-interesting conversation about their algebra teacher's false teeth, which somehow evolved from math notes.
~~~*~~~
It was noon and George Conway sat in the living room, seething with anger. He needed a new job...and it was all that stupid kid's fault!
He had figured by bringing Charlie to Montana, it would make things easier. He would get sympathy from the government because of the death of his wife...or, actually murder...but that isn't the point.
He had collected all the money from Casey's death and wasn't surprised when it wasn't all that much. Luckily she hadn't bothered to change her will since before they separated. Therefore, all her belongings legally belonged to him...
And Charlie.
But the boy himself had turned out to be very different from the four-year- old child he had missed over the years. He had done all he could to get Charlie to like him. He really had. He gave him a nice home to live in, sent him to a nice school, and done his best to be nice. Even at the beginning during Charlie's 'adjustment phase.' But the boy insisted on being stubborn. George had gone through great lengths to get rid of Casey and how was he repaid? With an unappreciative son.
George had decided it was better that Charlie be with him. Casey couldn't handle him. If she could, George decided his son would be MUCH more polite and well rounded. So he was really doing them a favor. But Charlie...Charlie was completely unappreciative. He caused George to look bad in front of colleagues, bosses, and other important people.
Then the boy went and got him fired.
George growled and slammed his fists on the coffee table. Then he saw a bottle out of the corner of his eye.
It was a bottle of beer.
George had sworn off alcohol when it cost him his son. But now, he didn't care if he lost his son. His son was an undeserving, spoiled, disrespectful brat.
He got up and opened the bottle, taking a swig. His lips curled into a smile as the liquid flowed down his throat.
George Conway decided that all his son needed in order to become a respectful, upright citizen was a little...motivation...a little...discipline...
~~~*~~~
School had ended for the day and for the first time since he had arrived in Montana, Charlie returned home in a good mood. He found out that the JV team agreed to tolerate him and Varsity just ignored him. There were no violent outbreaks in the locker room and he was still breathing. He had even managed to finish his homework during Study Hall.
Charlie was getting the feeling things might be getting better.
He swung open the front door, a light smile on his lips. He dropped his bag to the ground carelessly and tossed his roller blades next to them.
He bolted up his room and closed the door behind him. He then proceeded to pick up the phone. He held it for a few moments, debating the pros and cons of going against what his father said. To call, or not to call...that, is the question...
Pro- Get to talk to the Ducks.
Con- Father will find out.
Pro- Get a chance to reconnect with past life.
Con- Father gets angry.
Pro- Find out if Bombay has made any progress in getting him home.
Con- Father proceeds to commit voluntary child-slaughter.
Pro- If Father commits aforementioned slaughter, gets to see Mom.
Con- Won't get to see Ducks anymore because of aforementioned slaughter.
Charlie tapped his chin and furrowed his eyebrows as he contemplated his choices. Was it worth it?
Of course it was.
He took in a deep breath, dialed the number, and said a quick prayer that someone would pick up.
He heard a click and a male voice answer the phone. Charlie out a sigh of relief as a smile crept back onto his face.
"Hey Fulton!" he said in an abnormally happy voice.
Fulton blinked a few times at Charlie's tone. 'Hey dude, what's up?' he asked, once he recovered.
"Not too much. I'm still breathing; and I assure you, that is good news. How have you guys been?" Charlie replied.
'Good, I guess. Orion's still mad about you leaving...not that you could really help it. We totally blew that game right after you left. It was very embarrassing. It's not that we haven't ever played without you before, it's just the stress of it all was a little overwhelming. I wish we could just abduct you and bring you back. We could keep you in the closet and feed you scraps.' Fulton joked.
Charlie laughed. "I could live with that. Yes, that would do quite nicely." Charlie said, grinning through the phone.
'Anyway man, we really miss you. It isn't the same.' Fulton said, this time more serious.
"I miss you guys too. Two people on the JV team talk to me and the rest tolerate me whenever the two are around. Other times they just pretend I either don't exist or that I'm secretly plotting to kill them. As for Varsity, my TEAMMATES," he said, sarcastically emphasizing 'teammates', "they refuse to positively acknowledge my presence off of the ice and do their best to make my life miserable on the ice. But at least then they're semi-civil. As bizarre as that sounds..." Charlie said, shaking his head.
'That's pitiful...' Fulton interjected.
"Yeah. It really is-" Charlie started before his door swung open.
Charlie nearly fell off his bed in surprise. His head whipped up to face his father, his eyes wide. He had the 'deer-in-headlights' look on his face.
Before Charlie had the chance to say goodbye his father grabbed the phone and hung it up. He didn't even offer as much as an explanation to Fulton...not that Charlie expected him to.
Charlie just hardened his expression and got off his bed, brushing past his father as he walked down the stairs. He would call Fulton back later and apologize. Right now he was leaving. He didn't know where he would go, but he was getting out of that house before he did something that he might either regret or pay dearly for.
His father, however, apparently didn't agree with this.
"Where do you think you're going? Do you think I'm gonna to let you just walk off?" George yelled as he stumbled after the boy, both walking into the kitchen.
Charlie stopped and turned back. His father's eyes were bloodshot and angry. He found this odd. Charlie hadn't seen that look since...
~*~ Flashback ~*~
A four-year old boy with bright blue eyes ran into kitchen, clutching his drawing happily. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his father clutching a glass beer bottle and screaming at his mother.
The boy didn't stop in time to go unnoticed.
A look of fear swept across his young mother's face as the brunette child's father turned toward him with bloodshot eyes. He had been drinking.
Without a second thought, the child bolted back to his bedroom, the drawing forgotten. He closed his door and cried as he heard his parents resume the fight they had been belting out before he had interrupted.
He erupted into a fit of quiet sobs as he clutched his drawing to his chest along with a stuffed brown teddy bear.
~*~ End Flashback ~*~
Charlie froze up. He begged his muscles to move but as hard as he struggled, his legs refused to relent.
Charlie saw something shiny out of the corner of his eye. He quickly took a peek to find out what the object was.
A beer bottle.
Charlie gulped slightly as his gaze shifted back to his father. Apparently his father hadn't noticed.
Before Charlie knew it, his father was about a foot away.
"ANSWER ME! Did you think I was just gonna let you walk off?!" George Conway boomed as he shifted into a threatening stance.
As hard as Charlie struggled to find words, he felt choked up. He couldn't make the words come out so he just shook his head.
"Then WHY, oh bright child of mine, DID YOU DO IT?!" he asked, his face inches from his son's.
"I-I..." Charlie stuttered, his throat dry.
"ANSWER ME!" Mr. Conway said, shoving Charlie backwards against the wall. Charlie head hit a shelf and he could feel a small amount of blood seep out from the cut. He desperately wanted to reach his hand up to touch it; to see if it was real. But again, his limbs refused to respond to his brain.
"I-I dunno." He managed to stutter out. Charlie couldn't believe himself. His brain screamed at him to fight back but he couldn't seem to move. He was frozen in place. He couldn't believe how little control he had over this situation.
George Conway grabbed his son by the shirt and dragged him back out into the middle of the kitchen. As he practically flung Charlie out of his grasp, Charlie hopped back a few steps to keep from falling.
"What were you doing on that phone? WHAT did I tell you about calling LONG DISTANCE?!" George shouted again. His breath reeked of alcohol.
Charlie blinked and tried to compose himself. This was a difficult task because his head was throbbing and he could feel his hair wet slightly from the blood.
"You said n-not to do it." He said, trying not to wince. He wouldn't give the man any more satisfaction than necessary.
"Then WHY did you do it?" he asked, almost resembling calm for a moment.
"I-I dunno." Charlie said weakly again.
"YOU DON'T KNOW?!" his father bellowed, hitting Charlie square in the chest, knocking him back into a shelf containing shot glasses and some other dishes. "Well then I'll tell you. It's because you're a NO-GOOD, WORTHLESS little juvenile DELINQUENT! If you would LISTEN TO ME, you would be BETTER OFF! You have done NOTHING but cause TROUBLE the whole time you've been here you ungrateful little brat! When you got in that mess about the money *I* got you out! Did I get a thank you? NO! I got MORE trouble from you!" his father screamed.
Charlie's hand reflexively went to his head. The blood was coming out more rapidly and he could feel the glass cut his hands as he tried to get it out. All the dishes and shot glasses had broken and he was feeling lightheaded from the blood loss. His head was swimming with confusion. The words his father were screaming slurred together and Charlie was finding it harder and harder to comprehend. He felt himself slip in and out.
He felt a hard slap snap him back into reality.
He jerked backwards to see his dad waiting expectantly for him to say something.
Oh no...had his dad asked him something?!
His father yanked him up, bumping the boy's head on the shelf again. Charlie yelped in pain. His knees buckled and he fell back down to the ground.
"Stand up, boy!" he said, kicking him in the side.
Just as George Conway was about to continue berating his son, the phone rang. Charlie silently prayed his father would pick it up and that it WASN'T one of the Ducks. Even though he knew his father would never give him the phone in the first place, he still didn't want to think about it.
Luckily, the elder Conway went to pick up the phone in the living room, but not before giving Charlie a warning look.
Charlie held in tears threatening to spill. He was too old to cry. There was no way he would let his father win.
After tentatively brushing his hand through his hair to knock out a few more of the larger glass pieces, he summoned all his strength to stand up.
While his father was on the phone, Charlie snuck out the side door and started walking. He was surprised how well his father could speak on the phone, even after drinking.
He carefully brushed his fingers over his swollen lip and felt semi-dry blood. He probably looked like a mess. Charlie had no clue where to go now that he was out of the house. The Ducks were in another state and he didn't have any close friends in Montana yet.
He wobbled and grabbed onto the mailbox to steady himself. He had to think quickly. Too bad that was hard to do when your head was throbbing and bleeding like nobody's business...
He let out a dejected sigh and decided on the park. It seemed to be a nice outlet for the moment. Maybe once he got there he would think of something.
Charlie arrived at the park about five minutes later. His head was throbbing and he was dizzy. Blood was still in his hair and his head felt sticky. His lip hurt and his back ached. His chest was sore and his upper arms still hurt a little from the day before.
The boy was about to sit down on a bench when his knees buckled. He fumbled to the ground, scraping his face on the pavement as his world went black.
