A/N: All right, I lied. There are still flashbacks, and Chelsie will meet soon, but this chapter is really about their respective childhoods. I don't see Charles in any universe liking American football.

TW for childhood hunger and poverty.

"There he is, there's my Charlie!" Alice dropped her pom-poms and ran to hug her tired boyfriend. He tried to smile, but Beryl thought it looked more like a grimace.

"You did so well! Seven tackles, and you sacked the quarterback twice! Was it exciting when you got interviewed for the newspaper?" She brushed at his sleeve, trying to get the dirt and grass off. He shrugged.

"Thanks. Mr. Weston just asked me a few questions," he said. "It wasn't anything exciting. Hi, Beryl."

"There's the man of the hour," his red-haired friend sighed. "All of the girls at school Monday will be all over you. Except me, of course, I know you too well." She winked at him and he chuckled.

Alice frowned. "They'd better not be." She tucked her arm through his. "How would it look for the Homecoming Queen to go to the dance without her King?"

"Of course I'm going with you, Ally! How could you think otherwise?" Charles asked, leaning over to kiss Alice. She gently pushed him to the side.

"Not on the cheek, you'll smudge my face paint." Instead, he gave her a small peck on the lips. She beamed. "That's better. Oh, I have to run, I have a ride home with Mary Lou. Beryl, are you coming?"

"In a minute," Beryl watched as Alice joined two other cheerleaders, skipping to the car. Charles nudged her.

"You'd better go, I have to get on the bus. You don't want to be stuck without a ride."

"Charlie, why do you play football?" she asked bluntly, crossing her arms. Her eyes bored into his.

He straightened up. "Why not? It gets me outside, plenty of fresh air, physical exercise-"

She snorted. "You've always had plenty of fresh air. You and I played outside from the time we could walk. And you've spent so much time hiking and fishing, up at your grandfather's cabin." She pulled her coat closer around her, her nose red with cold. "You're only on the football team because Alice begged you to. And I don't understand why you didn't tell her you didn't want to do it. You're miserable, that's plain."

"Stop," he growled, his eyebrows coming together. Dropping his voice, he whispered under his breath. "Look, it's not my favorite, but it makes her happy. And fortunately, I'm rather good at it."

"Very fortunate," Beryl said dryly. Ally called for her. "I have to go. But really, Charlie, think about it. You don't have to do every little thing just to please her. You won't make her happy that way."

"I know," he said defensively. He climbed onto the bus and sank onto a seat, feeling his tight muscles relax.

He didn't want to admit it, but Beryl was right. The next time Ally asks me to do something I don't want to, I'll just calmly tell her no. She'll understand. She doesn't want me to be unhappy.

Like last year he wanted to join the Speech Club. They had just started dating, and she suggested wouldn't it be better if they served together on the planning committee for Prom? He saw her point. And they did have fun.

Beryl was right about football, but she didn't understand how it was between him and Alice.

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The shouting through the thin wall woke her. Again. She lay still, holding her breath, trying not to hear the angry words. Praying that Becky would sleep through it.

Her sister turned over with a soft moan. Elsie immediately reached for her, and the two little girls clung together under the blankets.

"What are they fighting about this time?" Becky whispered, her breath tickling her chin.

"Mam's angry that Da doesn't get paid until Friday," Elsie whispered back. "It's not his fault." Both of them flinched when something banged against the wall. "A shoe," Elsie breathed. Becky's arms tightened around her. "It's just a shoe." It sounded bigger than that.

She was only thirteen months older than Becky, but took her role as big sister seriously. Da called her an old soul. That made her roll her eyes. She reminded him that she was only nine. I'm not old!

"Els, tell me a story," Becky's voice raised slightly as the screaming intensified.

"All right," she bit her lip, thinking hard. "Once there were two princesses, locked in a castle…"

She kept talking until the sounds next door died away, and her younger sister fell asleep again.

The next morning, Da put his finger on his lips when they came into the tiny kitchen.

"Your Mam's still sleeping. You'd best hurry now, you don't want to be late for school."

"We're hungry, Da. Is there anything to eat?" Elsie asked. She hoped Mam had remembered to buy bread for toast. The new shoes and dress Mam had hidden in her closet were nice, but they couldn't eat them. Becky licked her lips.

He shook his head, rubbing the bags under his eyes. "I'm so sorry, my hearts. There's nothing in the cabinet, no milk-"

"We'll be all right," Elsie said bravely, as Becky's chin quivered. They'd gone without before. Her stomach growled.

"That's my good girls." He kissed them on their heads, taking care to tuck Elsie's scarf under her fraying coat. "I love you."

Becky sniffled, wiping her eyes as they trudged up the sidewalk. Tears pricked Elsie's eyes. She turned to her sister, leaning over. "Don't cry, Beebee. Da will bring us something tonight after work. Maybe sandwiches from Mr. Griffin, or doughnuts from the bakery!"

"Mmmm, doughnuts," Becky hummed. She gave Elsie a small smile, and squeezed her hand.

Elsie squared her shoulders, pulling a long hair out of her face. They'd get by.

Somehow they always did.