This chapter was a bit of a filler I guess. It's one of the shorter chapters I'll be writing. Basically, all this is will be Ricky asking his father about visiting Grace, with a few more things thrown into. Be warned, this chapter is very dark at the beginning.

Also, I changed my mind about the one POV per chapter. I might change that whenever I see fit. This might be my last update for awhile sadly. I've got some reports and stuff due. Read and review!

Convincing Him
Ricky

In order to be able to go to Grace's house, Ricky would of course have to ask his father. This was no something he was thrilled about. At all. Truth be told, he was terrified just to look his father in the eye these days. Yet he didn't have a choice. No way was he not going to ask, though. If he even attempted to run away or not tell his father where he'd be, well, he'd be in for one Hellish night. Ricky sighed, his head throbbing with fear as he awaited his father's return home. He closed his eyes tightly, hearing only the sound of the television downstairs. His mother was watching, or more like having another hangover in front of, the news. His father would be home any moment.

The sound of a slamming door was the first sound he heard, and that was followed by Bob Underwood cussing Ricky's mother out, demanding that she wake up and fix him some dinner. The drunken slurr to his speech was a bad sign. Ricky resisted the urge to run to his door and lock it, for he needed to talk to his father. Besides, he'd locked the door before. It never helped. His father always had a way in; one time he kicked the door right off its hinges. That was the angriest he had ever been, and Ricky had been too terrified to ask why.

Be strong, he told himself silently. It'll all be worth it. You'll be safe tomorrow, you won't have anything at all to worry about. Just think about it, good food, no lesson...

"Ricky!"

Ricky's eyes flew open again. His father's footsteps were like drums in his ears as the man raced up them. Ricky's heart was pounding with a sudden fear, and all of a sudden he had doubts. Would it be worth it? Would his father ever allow him to go? He was so drunk... Ricky could practically smell the beer wafting off of him through the door. The pounding on Ricky's door shook him out of his thoughts. He found himself backing up, pressing against the wall and too terrified to even move. The door slammed open, smashing against Ricky's bedroom wall with enough force to shake it for a split second.

The look in his father's eyes was almost enough to make Ricky change his mind. He'd had a bad day and had obviously gone to the bar after. It was obvious; Bob could barely stand up straight. It was a miracle that he'd even made it home. Immediately Ricky regretted that choice of words. No way was it a miracle. Ricky was beginning to wish that his father hadn't made it home, that he'd gotten into an accident that would...

His father grinned at him. "There's my boy. You didn't think that I forgot our lesson, did you?"

Ricky shook his head, angering the man before him even more.

"Answer me when I talk to you!"

The next thing Ricky felt was a slap on the cheek. Even with his father's drunken state, the force was enough to send Ricky flying to the side. His head smashed against his nightstand, and the sound of a "crack!" sounded in his ears. Dazed, Ricky looked up at his father with terrified, pleaing eyes.

"N-No sir, I didn't think you forgot." Bob smiled, reaching down to ruffle Ricky's hair. It was a sign usually used as affection between father and son. Yet there was no affection in Bob's eyes when he made this gesture. Ricky shook his head, backing away a little bit. Now was the only chance he'd have to ask his father. Ricky raised his eyes to meet the eyes of his father, trying to ignore the ache in his head and the shaking of his entire body.

"D-Dad, I... A friend invited me to her house for dinner tomorrow night," Ricky began. "I-I really want to go and hang out with her. We'll be studying and-"

Bob slapped Ricky again, silencing him. Ricky squeezed his eyes shut to hold back tears; tears only angered his father even more.

"If you go to this girl's house, you'll miss your lesson." His father grinned down at him. "I guess I'll just have to make this one a little extra informative."

Ricky didn't open his eyes. That was the closest thing he'd get to a yes, and it was enough. The pain wouldn't matter. Tomorrow, he'd be home-free, he'd be safe. That thought was the only thing that got him through the "lesson." That, and thoughts of Grace's smiling, friendly face.

-0-0-0-

Ricky wasn't able to sleep that night. He lay on his bed, staring dully at the ceiling. Cracks ran across it in crooked and twisted patterns. Ricky's brown eyes traced pathes within the cracks, following them like he would a maze. He sighed, looking over at the clock that rested upon his nightstand. It was already 9:30. The room remained filled with light, though, thanks to the ceiling lamp hanging above his head. The silence wasn't new to Ricky; his father was already in bed, and his mother... well, right now Ricky didn't care where his mother was.

I just want this all to end, Ricky thought to himself. I want a reason to stay here, I want... Grace.

Ricky found himself longing for the pretty young girl's company that night. It surprised him, for he didn't know her very well at all. He just needed a reason to smile, a sincere look, a kind word. He needed Grace Bowman with him. Ricky wished they'd exchanged phone numbers or email or something. He wanted to talk to her more then anything at that moment. He needed to clear the horrible scene that had occured hours before out of his mind. He needed Grace, his breath of fresh air.

The young boy rolled over in his bed so he was looking out the window. The movement brought the pain in his head back, making him wince. It had been bleeding earlier; that was clear from the pile of bloody tissues on the floor beside his bed. Now, a scab of dried blood covered that cut on his head. It wasn't deep, and he'd been hurt way worse before. Never once had he been taken to the emergency room for any of the injuries, for according to his father they weren't bad enough to waste a doctor's time with.

Soft footsteps sounded from outside in the hallway. They paused at Ricky's door, making him tense with a sudden fear. Who was out there? It wasn't his father; the steps were far too soft and gentle. They were almost feminine, and that thought made Ricky relax. It was just his mother. He knew that she stopped outside his door every night. Apparently, it was her own way of checking on him. She'd never cared enough to go in there and ask him if he was okay. She was usually too high or had a huge hangover anyway. Ricky didn't want her company.

Ricky wasn't surprised when he heard his mother's retreating footsteps. He found himself clenching his fists with a sudden amount of anger. Didn't she care? Did it not matter that her son, the child she gave birth to all those years ago, went through Hell every night? About a year ago, Ricky had come to the conclusion that his mother was a coward. She didn't want to face his father, to confront him about his cruelty. She didn't want to become the object of his cruelty. In Ricky's opinion, she was a selfish coward.

I hate them. Ricky closed his eyes at his thoughts. I want them both gone. I want to get away from here, far, far away. I want Grace.

Somewhere in his neighborhood, a dog barked frantically. Ricky could hear the sound of a car pulling into his neighbor's driveway. It was Mr. Frazier, returning from a week long buisness trip. His neighbors' door opened, and following that was the sound of two little children squealing with joy. Their father was home. Ricky, driven by curiousity, sat up in his bed to get a better look. Mr. Frazier had kneeled down to his twin five-year-olds' heights, opening his arms wide for a hug. Both children, one a boy and one a girl, leapt into his arms with a giggling fit. Ricky could hear Mrs. Frazier laughing, yelling a happy welcome to her husband.

Was that a normal family? Surely Mr. Frazier didn't teach his son the same type of lessons Ricky was taught. He probably drove his kids to school, and greeted them with gifts and hugs and kisses when he returned from work and them from school. And Mrs. Frazier was probably preparing a nice, home-cooked meal. The four of them most likely sat around the table at night for dinner, exchanging stories from the day's events. That had to be a normal family. At that moment, Ricky wished more then anything that he could be a Frazier. Mr. Frazier's son looked up at Ricky's window and, upon seeing him watching them, waved at him. Ricky just turned away, laying back down on his bed.

Thoughts about what tomorrow would hold flew into Ricky's mind. The events from the night had made Ricky look forward to the visit even more. Grace was nice, and her father seemed the same. He could picture Grace's mother simply as an older version of Grace, sharing her daughter's petite, angelic features and kind personality. If that was the case, tomorrow night would be perfection for Ricky. He'd make sure to be home late, maybe even after 9:00, just to be positive that his dad wouldn't be waiting for him.

The clock now read 10:05, and Ricky found himself allowing his eyes to surrender to sleep. Thoughts of Grace remained in his mind, along with the hopes of the day to come.

-0-0-0-

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow night will be absolutely great! I'm positive that Ricky's parents will let him come, I mean there's no reason for them not to. I'm so excited to get to know Ricky. He's so quiet and reserved at school, and I'm hoping that maybe I'll see part of his real personality at my own house. Tom won't be there, but that isn't neccisarily a bad thing. I don't want him embarrasing me. Oh, that sounds mean. It's true, though. You know Tom and how he can be. I know that he can't help it, but still... Besides, he's always revealing any of the secrets I tell him. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut around him.

Dad asked me a few questions about Ricky today when he got home from work. All of the questions were strange. He kept asking me about Ricky's parents or his home life and all that. I kept telling him that I didn't know, I mean we haven't lived here that long at all. I don't know Ricky all that well yet. Dad's always been nosy about guys; even when I was in kindergarten he'd ask me if I had any guy friends, then ask me to tell him anything and everything about them. He seemed especially interested in Ricky though, and I really want to know why. Maybe I'll figure that out tomorrow.

Wow, it's 10:00 now. I need some sleep if I'm going to have my friend over for dinner tomorrow! Be prepared for pages and pages about it.

~ Grace Bowman