Prologue
She stared at the blank monitor, wondering how in the world she was going to kill time the rest of the afternoon. And all evening.
Not to mention all the days next week, and next month. And forever, it seemed. One child glued to his GameBoy, one child at a friend’s house, one child 200 miles away at college, supposedly job-hunting. Her husband at work, as usual.
She sighed.
The weekly housework was done, the laundry finished yesterday. She’d baked a cake. The pet cages were clean, all animals fed and tended to. She supposed she could paint the living room, or the dining room. Or clean out a closet. It was too hot to run errands, not that she had many;
95 degrees, rather humid for August. Summer in Texas was endless.
She remembered the old adage, "Be careful what you wish for…." All she ever wanted was a husband and children, just to be a housewife,
with enough money to pay the bills. Well, not all.
At least, not always. Once there had been dreams, dreams that family and friends said would never happen, dreams they said weren’t
"practical". Whatever that means.
So, after years of struggling as a single parent, dreaming those dreams, waiting for the time to be right, the money to be right, her life
to be right, she realized that it probably wasn’t going to happen, not for her, and decided that all she really wanted was a "normal" life. Whatever that means.
Chapter One
"Bethany, what are you doing?" whispered Paula. "You’d better pay attention - Mrs. Lillian is going over the test."
Bethany looked up for a moment, then went back to her sketches. Perhaps "sketches" wasn’t the word, since Bethany was somewhat
artistically challenged, and a better choice would be "scribblings." She was, however, drawing frantically, hoping to finish before class was over – or before Mrs. Lillian noticed what she was doing.
The bell rang. Bethany and Paula gathered up their notebooks and pens and moved into the hall with the mass of other
highschoolers. Talking was impossible, even though the noise level was probably lower than at other schools – the students here were possibly a cut above average and slightly more well-behaved than those at most public high schools, or at least they themselves thought so. When the two girls reached the lunchroom, they plopped their things on the table and hurried to the vending machines. Bethany got her usual lunch, a candy bar and a soda.
"How do stay so skinny, Bethany, eating that junk all the time?"
Bethany shrugged. "Beats me."
"So what were you messing with in English again?" Paula opened her milk. "Your horses? Honestly, you really ought to worry more about
your grades."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just have another three months, then I’m out of here." Bethany finished her lunch. "I gotta run, I’ll see you
in government."
Paula sighed and went back to her own lunch, a sensible sandwich and fruit. Sometimes she just had no clue how Bethany functioned or
what she thought about at all. She turned her chair around to talk to some other girls and forgot all about Bethany’s perplexities.
Bethany slipped out the back door of "A" hall to the smoking lounge. Well, that was a real misnomer, she thought. A spot of asphalt, no shade,
no seats, quite a few of the burnouts hanging around skipping class, scoring some weed.
Bethany joined her friend Michelle for a quick smoke – just the legal stuff - before their next class.
"So, what’s up with Brad?" Bethany asked.
"Dunno," Michelle answered. "Haven’t heard from him for days."
"You’re probably better off," Bethany told her, having no real basis for her statement. She’d had one disastrous date the year before,
with a junior a year older than she, who tried to get her to do everything but watch the movie in the back of the theater. She never counted
the two dates with Brad, Michelle’s current boyfriend, three years ago when they all were in a private school in the city. That had simply
been a matter of the first two girls Brad asked out saying no, and Bethany had been prepared to say yes right away, so she wouldn’t have
to look like a nerd. Now she could at least say that she had had a date, two actually, before getting to high school. Wow. Eighth grade.
A lifetime ago. Ha.
The bell rang.
Bethany spent the first fifteen minutes of class quickly completing her homework. She could tell Mr. Jones was taking his time in
asking for assignments to be handed in; she kinda hoped it was because he liked her. Not that she had a thing for a teacher. Good Lord.
But he was kinda cute, and he was very smart. And she really enjoyed the discussions in class. Ha. Who was she kidding? These were
debates, not discussions, and she thought if that big bullying football player stood up to make his usual inane commentary on politics again,
she might throw up. Really.
