"Yeah, come on Richie Rich. Why don't you do something about it?"

On the lush, green lawn beside the school, Colin watched four of the bigger kids in his grade laugh and push around a smaller kid. They were throwing a bookbag to one another, as the smaller boy ran back and forth, trying unsuccessfully to catch his bag each time.

"Look, the little rich boy is going to cry," one of the bullies taunted, inciting laughter in the rest of the group.

Colin found it strange that all the kids dressed in equally expensive clothes, yet decided to make fun of the smaller kid for also being rich. Colin recognized the smaller kid who was being teased. John Fare just transferred to Colin's school at the beginning of the school year. He was a quiet kid and no doubt felt left out because of his size. Colin knew how some kids in school were like sharks in bloody water, sniffing out and attacking any kid who was different. These bullies were the kinds of kids who made Colin's life miserable and he automatically felt sympathy for John Fare. Colin never had any friends, which made it difficult to stick up for himself. But now that he saw somebody else in a situation similar, he could not just walk by without trying to help.

Of the four bullies circled around John, all were bigger than Colin except for one. This was the weak link and Colin knew to go after him first. He walked up to the group of bullies and pushed the smallest of the four boys, who fell to the ground, much to his friends' surprise.

"Leave him alone!" Colin yelled, trying to sound as threatening as possible.

If he hoped to simply scare the bullies away, his plan failed miserably. Instead of running off and leaving John alone, the bullies turned their attention to Colin. They began to push him back and forth to each other, as if playing toss with a human being. Having dealt with much worse physical abuse than this, Colin was not nearly as afraid as John had been. He did not waste his time begging the bullies to stop.

"Look at poor boy, he came to help his boyfriend, rich boy," one of the bullies taunted.

"Yeah, they sure make a cute couple, don't they?"

"Look at his clothes, they look older than him. I wonder how he could even afford that baseball he has."

"Yeah, he probably stole it from someone."

Colin did not want to cause any more trouble but the bullies were giving him no other option. He had to stick up for himself, even if it meant getting into trouble. The bully that Colin pushed to the ground had now rejoined his three friends and there was no place for Colin to escape. He saw John Fare standing just outside of the circle, watching hopelessly, yet not abandoning the person who'd tried to help him. Finally, Colin could take no more.

When one of the bullies pushed him toward another, Colin used the forward momentum to his advantage, kicking the one bully in the shin as hard as he could. Colin remembered the pain he'd felt when his father once threw a baseball at his shin and he knew this move would take the bullies' numbers down to three. The first bully dropped to the ground and grabbed the bottom of his leg, screaming out in pain. Not used to their prey fighting back, the other three bullies looked on in shock when they saw their buddy go down.

Colin did not stop to admire his work. He stayed on the attack, making good use of the only thing he had that could be turned into a weapon: his baseball. With pinpoint accuracy, Colin hurled the baseball at the face of the biggest bully remaining, hitting him squarely in the cheek. The boy grabbed his face and went down as well, beginning to hysterically cry the moment he hit the ground.

You can dish out the pain but you sure can't take it, Colin thought.

The two remaining bullies did not know what to make of the situation. A few seconds earlier, the four of them were toying with their weak victim. Now, two of them were down and out and the 'poor boy' was not ceasing his assault. Colin next went to the smallest one again, pushing him again as hard as he could. The smallest bully, who was quick to get up the first time, was not nearly as ready to rejoin the fight when his other friends weren't there to protect him. This time, he stayed on the ground next to his fallen comrades.

Colin's adrenaline was pumping furiously and he felt like one of those professional wrestlers who rushed to the ring and 'cleaned house.' He knew the bullies weren't expecting this from him; the element of surprise had given him the only chance he had in the fight. The fourth bully, though, did not remain shocked and motionless once he saw that he was the last one standing. He saw that attacking had worked for Colin and utilized the same strategy, using the technique especially well when Colin's back was still turned.

Colin felt a jolt from behind as the final bully barreled into him, sending him sprawling to the ground in the vicinity of the others. Before he could get himself oriented, the last bully kneeled on top of his chest, pinning him to the ground, raining blows upon Colin's head. Colin closed his eyes and tried to cover his head, expecting the beating to last as long as the other boy wanted. But the last bully only got in a few shots when Colin felt the weight suddenly lifted. He opened his eyes and saw John Fare on top of the last bully, having just tackled him off Colin. The move surprised both Colin and the bully. The shocked look on John's face showed that he'd surprised himself as well.

The bully quickly used his size advantage and easily spun John around. Before he could begin punching though, Colin had gotten up and tackled him away. By this time, the smallest bully saw his friend getting the upper hand and rejoined the brawl. Soon, all four boys were wrestling around on the ground, throwing random punches but doing little real damage to one another. The fight was out of clear view of the other kids and parents in the parking lot, but Colin was still surprised that nobody saw the fight and tried to break them up.

Sarah Rose wanted to run toward her son and stop the bigger kids from hitting him but she could not interfere in the fight. There were too many questions that someone could ask and if anybody found out that she came to her son's school to see him, she could get into a lot of trouble. She'd been lucky to avoid breaking-and-entering charges a few years earlier when she broke into the adoption agency, so the last thing she needed now was a stalking charge.

Unknown to the police who arrested her at the time, Sarah had successfully entered the adoption agency's computer system and discovered where her son lived. Luckily, the charges against her had been dropped and all evidence of her crime went unnoticed. Sarah assumed that plenty of people who put their children up for adoption wanted to get them back, so the adoption agency at least sympathized with her.

In reality, Sarah did not want her son back. After Josh died, she realized that she could not be a good enough mother, especially not while all alone in the world. That would not be fair to her child, for whom she wanted the best possible life. Putting him up for adoption had been the hardest decision she ever had to make. After eight years, though, Sarah began to desperately want information about her son, to know for herself that he was healthy and being properly taken care of. The adoption agency assured her that he was but she had to see proof with her own two eyes.

The break-in happened two years ago. Her original plan was to check on her son one time, only once, and then never see him again. But the first time she saw him, her heart felt like it had come to a stop. Although her son was only eight years old at the time, he was the spitting image of Josh. Sarah had not expected to be reminded of her one true love when she saw the boy, but looking at him even from far away filled her heart with a feeling not known since the day Josh died. Looking at her son, she could remember so vividly that last image she had of Josh, that look of pure happiness on his face as he escaped her bedroom window. It was a look that Sarah never expected to see on another human being's face for as long as she lived, but it was a look she saw the first time she laid eyes on the boy.

From that point on, Sarah was hooked. Seeing her son became an addiction and she began to make the two-hour trip to see him at least once a week. She wanted to go every single day but knew that would be torture. Sarah also knew that if she tried to see him too much, people might notice her around and call the police. If stalking charges were ever brought upon her, her son's family would have to be told. One thing that the adoption agency told Sarah was that her son's adopted parents had not planned to tell her son that he was adopted. She did not want to ruin her son's innocence. It would not be fair to screw up his mind with such thoughts if he was truly happy with his current life.

Sarah would not allow herself to go near her son's home. It would be too easy to be discovered there, too easy for the wrong person to notice her milling about. Coming to his school made the most sense since she could blend in among the crowd of other parents. There were plenty of adults around the school, waiting to pick up their children, and Sarah became just another parent waiting to see her child. Everything had worked out so well.

Until now. Her child was fighting with bullies, kids much bigger than he was, and there was nothing she could do to help him. Thankfully, the fight only lasted another minute until a bald man wearing a jogging suit (probably the gym teacher) saw what was happening and broke it up. The two boys attacked by the bullies were pulled aside and they both looked over in Sarah's direction.

Oh no. Did he see me? she wondered. Her son had never looked at her before and Sarah decided it was best if it stayed that way. Without another glance at him, Sarah walked away.

Who was that woman? Did she see everything that happened? She could tell Mr. Lewis that it wasn't my fault, Colin thought to himself, watching the woman across the road rushing away.

"Fighting is not going to solve anything, boys," Mr. Lewis, the school's gym teacher, yelled at Colin and John.

"It wasn't our fault. They started it," Colin argued back.

The four bullies were all huddled a few feet behind the teacher. The bully hit with the baseball had blood all over his face. The appearance of blood must have been the reason Mr. Lewis singled out Colin and John for the lecture, not the four real culprits.

"I don't care whose fault it was and I don't care who started it. You two boys could have walked away and avoided this if you wanted. But no, you couldn't do that, could you, Colin?" he said. When he said his name, Colin heard spite in the gym teacher's voice. Mr. Lewis looked at Colin's clothes in disdain. This was not the first time Colin felt contempt from a teacher because of the way he dressed. Unfortunately, it probably wouldn't be the last. "I would expect this from you, Colin. But John, I suppose I don't know you well enough to know what to expect from you. You don't look like the kind of troublemaker that Colin is. I hope you've learned your lesson to stay away from this boy."

With that, Mr. Lewis let the two boys go and turned his attention to the four beaten bullies, talking to them as though they had been the victims of an attack from vicious killers. Colin picked up his baseball, a few spots of blood dotting it, and began to walk away. John hurried to catch up.

"Thanks for helping me back there," he said, extending his hand.

Colin had never shaken hands with anyone before and decided to slap five instead. John laughed.

"Thanks for helping get the one guy off me," Colin said. "If you hadn't tackled him, he would've kicked my ass."

"But if you wouldn't have helped me, they were going to kick my butt...my ass," John said. Colin could tell the nerdy little kid had probably never cursed before.

"Don't mention it."

With that, Colin walked away. John thought about catching up with him again. But when he glanced across the parking lot, he saw the familiar Mercedes in which his family's housekeeper picked him up.

Colin walked down the road and began to toss his ball up and down again. He glanced over his shoulder and watched John cross the parking lot and climb into an expensive car.

Just another rich kid. Maybe I should've let him get beaten up.

Walking through the well-to-do neighborhoods on his way home made Colin feel as nervous as walking through a bad section of town. At least then he would fit in better, unlike this area, where he stuck out like a trash-truck among Ferraris. Colin received accusatory glares whenever any of the rich people saw him. Worst of all were the people who lived on the same road as Colin, the people who were most upset that there was one old, worn-down shack among the sea of expensive new housing.

He was only a few minutes away from school when a beautiful, navy blue Mercedes pulled to a stop next to him.

Great, another person is going to yell at the white trash walking down their beautiful road, he thought to himself. It wouldn't be the first time a rich person unleashed a verbal tirade on him, even though he always minded his own business. This time, when the window of the backseat rolled down, he saw the smiling face of John Fare.

"Hey," the skinny boy said. "You want a ride home?"

Colin hated walking home but the last thing he needed was for his new ally to see how poor he was. No matter how tempted he was, he knew that would be a bad idea.

"No, thanks. I'm sure it's out of the way," Colin said, continuing to walk down the road. The blue Mercedes slowly rolled beside him.

"Come on, it doesn't matter how far out of the way it is. Gabriella is paid to drive me. So come on, get in," John said, opening the door.

Colin finally gave in. He approached the open door slowly, not really knowing how to act around such an expensive car. The only vehicle he'd ever been in his whole life was his father's old pickup. Now, he was going to ride in a car that was probably worth more than his entire house. The inside of the car was just as perfect as the outside, the complete opposite in every way of his father's truck. Colin told John's housekeeper his address and she began to drive in the direction of his house.

"Thanks again for helping me back there. I didn't think those guys were ever going to give me my stuff back."

"No problem. I hate guys like that," Colin said.

"Yeah, me too. So, you wanna hang out sometime? I don't have too many friends and all," John said.

Colin had never 'hung out' with anyone before. His father had not allowed him to leave the house when he was younger. And over the past few years, all of the other kids at school avoided him like the plague. Sure, this John kid seemed pretty nerdy, but Colin was in no position to be choosy about his friends. Plus, the skinny kid was nice enough to pick him up and drive him home, something that maybe he would do more often.

"You like to play baseball?" Colin asked, showing him the ball. John looked embarrassed.

"No, I'm not very good at sports. People tell me I throw like a girl," he said.

"Do you at least like to watch sports? There's going to be a good baseball game on TV tonight. You going to watch it?"

Colin was hoping that John showed some sort of interest in sports. He could understand if someone wasn't good at sports, but he wasn't sure he could be friends with someone who did not even like them. He had a feeling he knew the answer to his question though. When John spoke, his feeling was confirmed.

"I don't really like sports, I guess. I think it's all the rules to those games that confuse me. Whenever I try to watch them, I never really understand what the heck is going on. Besides, the President's big speech is on tonight, I'll probably watch that."

Dear God, he doesn't like sports but he's looking forward to listening to the President's speech? He really is a nerd. Maybe I should have been helping those bullies and not him, Colin thought. He did not really believe what he thought but found the idea to be ironically comical.

"So if you don't like sports, what do you like doing?" Colin asked, as if there was nothing else in the world a ten-year-old boy could like besides sports.

"I know what you're thinking, I'm a total dork, right?"

"No, I don't think that," Colin answered. Actually, a total nerd.

"I'm not, though. I like to do cool things. I'm really into putting together model cars and playing video games, especially driving games. Do you have a PlayStation or Xbox?"

Now it was Colin's turn to be embarrassed about having a lack of knowledge. In his wildest dreams, he could never imagine his father spending a couple hundred dollars to buy him anything, let alone a toy.

"Nah, I never even played either of them before," Colin said. "They seem cool in commercials and stuff, but I don't think I'd like them."

"You should come over to my house and play them some time. You would probably like the sports games."

"Sure, that would be cool," Colin said. Hey, if he doesn't like sports, I guess it can't hurt that he has all the coolest and most expensive toys. Maybe he might be an okay guy after all.

The car came to a stop in front of Colin's house.

"This is your house?" the driver, Gabriella, asked. "It looks much...uh... different than all the other houses in your neighborhood."

"Yeah, most of this area around here was just land when I was younger," Colin answered, dodging the obvious connotation that his house appeared trashy. While the housekeeper took notice of Colin's house, John did not seem to give it a second glance.

"See you in school tomorrow," Colin said.

"Bye."

When Colin walked into his house, he was surprised to see his father sitting on the couch. There were an unusually large number of beer cans sitting on the coffee table in front of him and it was apparent that he had been home for quite some time. Colin knew right away that he was drunk. From the irritated expression on his face, he knew his inebriation was not going to be a happy one.

"What are you doing home already?" Colin asked.

His father was a large man, a construction worker whose body rippled from years of strenuous work. His ugly face, greasy black hair and long sideburns made him a frightening-looking man and that was before factoring in his mean attitude and drinking problem. He stood from the couch and knocked a beer over, quickly picking it up before too much liquid could escape.

"It's none of your damn business. Besides, I'm the one gonna be asking questions around here, not you," he slurred.

"Yes, sir," Colin said. He could tell by the look in his father's eye that he might be in for a beating; by showing him the proper respect, Colin hoped to avoid it.

"I just got a phone call from that school of yours," Colin's father said.

Oh no, now I know why he's angry.

"Do you know what they told me?"

"What, sir?"

He took a long drink of beer and threw the can aside, beginning to unbuckle his belt. He looked even angrier than before.

"You don't know what you did? I find that hard to believe, boy," he said, his voice menacingly calm. Hearing this tone of voice made Colin more nervous than if his old man was yelling. "Maybe you should think a bit harder."

His father was approaching him slowly and Colin grew more nervous with each step. His first instinct was to back up (more like turn around and run), but he knew doing that would irritate his father more. Colin knew exactly what his father was referring to, but he found the words difficult to say out loud.

"The fight?" he whispered.

"Speak up, boy. Don't whisper like a little sissy," his father yelled.

"Did they call about the fight, sir?" he repeated.

"You sent one boy to the damn emergency room. They think he might have a busted nose. Now what does that tell those other parents about the kind of person who raised you?"

"I don't know, sir," Colin said. There were plenty of honest ways he could answer that last question but he stuck with the safest possible answer.

"It made me look like a damn fool," he yelled, spittle flying from the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry, sir. But I had to do it."

Colin's father finished taking his belt off. He folded it over and smacked it down on his other hand, the loud cracking sound making Colin want to run. It was a sound he knew all too well.

"Well, boy, I hope for your sake that you do have a good excuse. Because if you don't, you'll be in for it," he said, snapping the belt again.

Colin's mind told him fifty different things to say, but none of the ideas seemed to make it from his head to his mouth. His world felt like it was spinning and at this moment, the last thing he wanted to do was explain what had happened. Instead of defending himself, Colin stood there like an idiot, staring up in fear as his monster of a father slowly approached him.

"WELL?!" his father yelled.

When his father was only a foot away, Colin finally blurted out the best excuse he could think of.