Thanks for Reviewing : It made me want to write more! P Now with the story!

I sat there for the rest of the period. Fifty-six minutes long, oh joy. I mean, come on, this class sucks like there's no tomorrow. And worse part is that I have to stay here after school as my punishment. Coach isn't going to be happy about it, but who cares? I don't have to run laps until our knees break.

Watching the stage from all the way in the back, I could see props and sets and racks of clothing lined up. If Mr. Smith was going to try to get me into helping with the play, he better know better than that. I will not, could not, possibly not even think about doing that.

Why? Because in this school jocks don't play with props or Drama or even think about going a stupid scene from Romeo and Juliet. Now, the cheerleaders, they'll do it. One, for the attention, Two for the show and Three….I don't know. But my girlfriend, Sandy, she'll flip if she sees me talking to the lower shits.

My gaze fell on Sidney again; she was talking to her friends and clinging onto on boy's arm. I knew him and I knew him well. Of course, I would, if he lived next door to me. His parents were nice and best friends with mine, but even though mine didn't like their child. The boy's parents liked me not out of tolerance but like me as a friend or something.

Anyway, his name was Mitchell. To his friends he's known as Mitch or Elle. To us he's known as Emo Kid. His black hair is parted mostly to the left covering his left eye. He has a lip ring and an earring. Oh and don't get to thinking that he's some depressed kid with a horrid life and cuts himself or a drug addicted teen. His clean as a whistle, yes, we do have drug tests at our school from past incidents.

Any who, Mitch and I are kind of like friends, but not really. We don't speak friendly to one another unless you call name-calling and jokes friendly at school, but when we have our dinners at their house or at ours, we're like friends.

But back to reality, she leaning against him and giggling at their jokes. Peering over at me, she smiles. Wait a minute, she SMILED at ME, how did she know I was looking? I guess she has one of those… "I can feel your eyes on me" senses.

Anyway, I smiled back before standing up and walking down the aisle to the bottom to Mr. Smith to talk to him, but some loser decided to say something completely stupid.

"Don't trip!" And the room started laughing, but I found it nonetheless, stupid and not worth my time to retort something better back.

Mr. Smith must have that sense to because he turned around when I finally got to him.

"Yes, Mr. Lane?" I so hate my last name.

"Um," I totally forgot what I was going to say. Think Chance! "Good luck on the play." I gave him two thumbs up before I walked back to my little row of boredumness.

Five minutes into my boredum, I heard my name. There was only one Chance in this school and that was me. I looked over to see some small kid looking up at me. He must be in ninth grade or something, because Mr. Smith doesn't have a wife or kids that anyone knows of.

"And you are?" I looked at him again. He was smaller than a ninth grader, but how was he? Some fifth grader or just a kid who got into the high school and decided to come see Chance Lane.

"My name is Charley, my uncle said I could stay here." That's it! I knew this kid. Mr. Smith didn't have a wife, but a half brother…so this must be his nephew who comes here everyday after pre-school. I smiled at least I get someone to talk to.

"Charley!" Just before I can talk to him, the smartass who tripped me came over and picked up the boy. "What did daddy say about talking to strangers?" I growled deeply as this kid had already pushed my button.

"Sammy," the little boy whined. "Uncle said I could talk to Chancy!" He crossed his arms over his small chest. This Sammy kid must be his babysitter or family friend or just friends with Mr. Smith and his half brother.

"Okay, but just be careful. If he touches you, come get me. Okay?" Sammy placed the kid back down. If that was a insult it didn't work.

After the smartass left, Charley looked up at him and blinked. Who wants to play Questionnaire? I got the feeling Charley was going to ask me something.

"What did he mean by that?" If he couldn't have picked a better question. I think about it, then sighed. "I means nothing, Charley." I replied dryly.

After playing Twenty-one Questions, the class was over and I was out of there and on to my next class. Science with Mr. Bay.