Second Chances

Hatching A Plan

The next day at school, Miss Laney went around the classroom, collecting everyone's book report. Well, not everyone's. Frederick Parker was out sick with the flu. Dylan was jealous. Not because he wanted to have the flu, but because he also wanted to have an excuse for not showing up to class, for not handing in the book report.

When Miss Laney came to Dylan's desk, she held out her hand for him to place his homework in. They just stayed like that for a few moments. Finally, she broke the silence. "Dylan?" He looked at his knees. "I don't have it today. I'll bring it in tomorrow, I promise." Miss Laney raised her eyebrows and moved on to the next student. When she moved away, Dylan saw Billy Macntire smirking at him. Billy had been his enemy since first grade, ever since Dylan beat him in a basketball game. From that day forward, he was determined to make his life miserable.

Dylan crossed his eyes at Billy and slunk into his seat. It was just his luck that this wasn't a regular book report that could be typed or written on a piece of paper, one that could be passed up to the front without anybody knowing you didn't do the work. Miss Laney had decided to have the students turn their book reports into cereal boxes. Dylan had started his cereal box for White Fang. He had made up a cool name, literary nutrition facts, even came up with a catchy slogan. All he had to do was draw a picture of the cover with the title and the main character.

But he hadn't, and the parts that were finished were sitting at home in his room. He had woken up grumpy after last night, and had grabbed his backpack, not even bothering to bring in part of his report. After everyone finally stopped staring at him, Dylan took out a black pen and some looseleaf paper and, instead of listening to Miss Laney's lessons, doodled some pictures of stupid Megan.
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The bell for recess rang. The students all scrambled out of their desks, cheering as they headed out the door. "Dylan Kent?" He stopped three feet from the door to look at his teacher. "Yes?" Miss Laney shuffled some papers. "May I speak to you for a moment?" Dylan gulped and looked at his friends, who were all giving him sympathetic looks. His stomach hurting, he walked over to stand in front of her desk.

Miss Laney waited until everyone else was out of the room before she looked up at him and spoke. "Dylan, I have to say, I'm disappointed in you." "I told you,", he said sadly, looking down at his worn-out sneakers. "I'll turn it in tomorrow." "Its not just the book report, Dylan.", Miss Laney said. "You're also missing three math homeworks, two essays, and on your last test, you got a 37. And its only October."

Dylan kept staring at his shoes. Miss Laney paused before continuing. "I talked to your past teachers. They said you were a very good student up until this time last year." She looked at him. "You know...sometimes, having trouble at home can lead to having trouble at school. Dylan...is there anything going on at your house? Anything I should know about?" He didn't answer.

Miss Laney sighed and went on. "Dylan, I know you can do the work. If there's anything going on at home, I'll try to be understanding...but if this keeps up, I'll have to send a note home to your father. Is that what you want?" Dylan shook his head. "I'll try harder. I promise." "Good.", she said. "You can go now." He sadly slunk out of the classroom.
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His friends were waiting for him outside. "What did she say?", asked Joey. "Did she give you an F? Do you have to stay afterschool?" Dylan kicked a pebble away. "Its fine. Let's go play soccer."

Adam shook his head. "I'm worried about you, Dylan. You've been so moody lately. Is everything okay? I know its been tough for you since..." He couldn't finish his sentence. Dylan took a soccer ball out of the pen and stormed onto the field. "Everything's fine. Let's just play."

"Well, look who it is! Mister Tardypants!" Dylan frowned as he looked over at Billy, standing defiant by the field. Behind him, some of his bully friends were snickering. Dylan gritted his teeth. He was already in trouble for the book report. The last thing he needed was detention for starting a fight. "Lay off it, Billy."