Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love reviews, especially nice ones. Anyway, here is the next chapter, tell me what yout think (but don't be mean, please!)

Eric Foreman

Age 8

"Eric, baby, what happened? Who did this to you?"

He kept his mouth shut tight. Even at eight years old, he knew that you didn't rat people out, if you wanted to keep your face intact. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and cast his eyes downward.

"Fine, but will you at least let me clean you up? Your lip is bleeding everywhere, and you're going to have a heck of a shiner tomorrow."

Eric sat still while his mother cleaned the blood off his lip, and put an ice pack over his eye.

"Okay, now just sit there while I cook dinner, alright?"

He tried to remain motionless, but being eight years old, he started to fidget after a couple of minutes. His concentration was completely blown when he heard the apartment door opening.

"Daddy! You're home early!"

Michael Foreman smiled and staggered when his young son came hurtling at him, he ran fast for such a little guy.

"Ooof! You're getting big, son. What happened to your face, you look like you had a run in with a bear!"

Eric was suddenly sheepish. He idolized his father, and he didn't want to admit that the other boys at school picked on him. He quickly changed the subject.

"Guess what Daddy, guess what? I got a 100 on my math test today! I knew all of my multiplication tables, so I got a sticker!"

With that, he thrust out his hand triumphantly, revealing a "Great Job!" sticker stuck to it.

"Well son, it looks like you did good. Pretty soon, you'll be even smarter than me!"

That evening, as he lay in bed trying to sleep, he could hear his parents' conversation in the kitchen. Their apartment was pretty cheap, so the walls were thin.

"What are we going to do? If this keeps getting worse, he'll be dead before he graduates college!"

"Now don't you think you're overreacting, honey? He's tough; he'll learn to defend himself."

"I don't want to do this anymore, Michael. I want to move out of this dmn neighborhood, to somewhere where my baby will be safe."

"To where, exactly? Anywhere we can afford to go will be just as bad. Maybe if I get that promotion, we can think about it. But for now, we're just going to have to tolerate this, okay sweetie?"

"Okay, Michael, but I don't like it."

8 years later

Age 16

He had been a disappointment. Sure, he could blame what he had done on the neighborhood, but in the end he had been responsible for his own actions, and he knew it. His parents had worked hard to give him everything, and this was how he repaid them.

Spending the night in a jail cell certainly made you think. He'd been stupid, letting himself be talked into stealing that car. He didn't know why he'd done it; he didn't even need a car. Maybe he just wanted to be accepted. He'd spent his entire childhood being the brainy outcast, and this had been his chance to finally fit in.

But it didn't work, of course. They'd been caught, and ended up riding in the back of a police car instead of a BMW. And now he was waiting for his parents to bail him out; waiting to see the disappointment in their eyes when they realized that their son had let them down.

He swore that this was the last time he would be a disappointment. He could be a doctor; every parent wants their child to be a doctor, right? He knew he had the brains, and if he worked hard enough, he could get there. And he would, just to get out of the hole he'd dug himself into.