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“We've talked about it as a possibility,” Ashley said.

“I don't think it's what I want,” I said. “But I haven't ruled it out. I just know that there are no easy answers here.”

Mr. Walker looked at me differently now. The hostility had faded. It's almost like he was looking at me as me for the first time, not as the boy who had gotten his daughter pregnant. “Well, you sure got that part right,” he said.

And that's where we left it. I gave Ashley a hug and walked home. I was still baffled as to what would come next. I didn't know how we were going to sort out the difficulties or make the right decision. All I knew was that we had, for now, taken some control. There would be problems ahead and difficult decisions. And I knew I would never be fully prepared for what lay ahead. But we had taken our lives back for now. There would be a child, and we'd have to figure out what would be best for that child.

Maybe Ashley and I could see it through and stay together. It wouldn't be easy. Nothing would be easy from here on. But I knew one thing for sure. I'd be there for her right up to the time the baby was born and beyond. We'd see this through together.

Lesley Choyce teaches part-time at Dalhousie University, runs Pottersfield Press and has published over seventy books for adults and kids. He surfs year-round in the North Atlantic and has been a newspaper boy and lead guitarist. Lesley lives at Lawrencetown Beach, Nova Scotia.

O
rca S
o
undings

The following is an excerpt from
another exciting Orca Soundings novel,
Comeback
by Vicki Grant.

978-1-55469-310-8 $9.95 pb
978-1-55469-311-5 $16.95 lib

RIA IS RICH, SLIM, PRETTY, POPULAR.

If you only knew her at school, you'd think she led a charmed life. But her situation has suddenly changed. Her parents' seemingly perfect marriage has broken up, and before she's had a chance to absorb the blow, her father disappears in a plane crash. What's worse, rumors begin to surface that he may not be the man—or father—everyone thought he was. Ria decides she needs to take desperate action to protect herself, her younger bother and her father's reputation.

Chapter One

My boyfriend is trying to make me feel better. He's leaning against his locker, one arm over my head, making a little cocoon for me. He tucks a wisp of hair behind my ear and says, “It's not the end of the world, Ria. Who knows? You might even end up liking it. So smile, would you? C'mon. Just a little… Please?”

I appreciate the effort. I really do. Colin's sweet—but it's not helping. He doesn't know how I feel.

How could he?

His life's right off the Disney Channel. The mom. The dad. The three kids. The mischievous but lovable dog. Everyone sitting around the kitchen table, laughing at dumb jokes and flicking corn Niblets at each other.

Colin couldn't possibly understand what it's like to live without all that— any more, I guess, than I could have three months ago.

The weird thing is I didn't even know my life was perfect until suddenly it just wasn't anymore. It was like waking up after a car crash and realizing your legs aren't there. Who even thinks about how great walking is before something like that happens?

The word
crippled
pops into my head, and that's enough to get me started again. I have to close my eyes.

Colin says, “Oh, no. Ria…” I feel the air go out of him.

This isn't fair. I shouldn't make him miserable just because I am. That's the type of thing my mother would do.

What am I saying? That's the type of thing my mother
did
do.

This whole thing is all about
her.
Her
life,
her
happiness,
her
whatever.

It's as if one morning she just decided she didn't want to be married anymore, and that was that. No explanation. No apology. No nothing.

Next thing we knew, she'd kicked Dad out. She'd fired the housekeeper, cut up our credit cards, took a pathetic little job at an office somewhere and jammed the freezer full of these Styrofoam disks that she insists on calling pizza.

I don't get it. If we're suddenly so poor, why won't she cash the checks Dad keeps leaving for her? He's a big stockbroker. He's got tons of money. He doesn't mind giving it to us. He
wants
to.

Mom's trying to embarrass him. That's what she's doing. She knows it's going to look bad for him to be wining and dining his clients at the best restaurants in town when his own kids can't even “afford” take-out pizza anymore.

I'm sure I sound mad and childish and spoiled—and I probably am—but I can't help it. When this whole thing started, I tried to be supportive. I choked down the frozen pizza. I didn't complain when Mom canceled our trip to Italy. I looked after my little brother Elliot. I even attempted to be sympathetic.

I mean, I'm not totally blind. I can see Dad isn't the easiest guy to be married to. He's away on business too much. He's involved in too many organizations. He's got too many friends, clients, acquaintances, whatever—and they all want to go golfing with him. I can understand how that would get to Mom.

I figured she just needed a break. After a couple of weeks—and maybe jewelry and a romantic dinner somewhere— she'd remember the good things about Dad, and then we could all just go back to being a family again. That's what I thought.

At least until this morning, when I found out Mom went and sold our house. Now, on top of everything, she's making us move into some gross little condo, miles from all our friends and our schools and—oh, yeah, what a coincidence—our father.

I can't be sympathetic anymore. This is her midlife crisis. We shouldn't all have to suffer from it.

I'm not going to be like that.

I open my eyes and smile at Colin. “I'm fine,” I say. “My contacts were just bothering me.”

There's no way Colin believes that, but by this point, he's probably had enough of my honesty. He kisses me on the forehead and then starts manhandling me toward the cafeteria. I laugh as if it's all fun and games, but I'm not sure how long I can keep up the act. The thought of having to do my Miss Congeniality thing for the entire lunch-eating population of Citadel High exhausts me.

My phone rings just as we get to the burger lineup. Ms. Meade glares at me and says, “Cell phones. Outside.” Normally, I think that rule's totally unfair, but today it strikes me as proof that God just might exist after all. I mumble “Sorry” and slip out the side door onto the parking lot. I can see Colin is torn between keeping an eye on me and placing his order, but he follows me out anyway.

“Hey,” I say into the phone.

“Hello, Princess.”

“Dad!” I smile for real. I can't remember the last time I did that. “Where are you?”

“Guess.”

I don't have to. Colin has already spotted him and is dogging it across the parking lot toward the biggest, shiniest old convertible I've ever seen. It's turquoise and white and has these giant Batmobile fins on the back. Dad's leaning up against it. He's got his tie loosened and his jacket slung over one shoulder as if he's auditioning for
Mad Men
.

I have to laugh. “Where did you get that thing?”

“Thing?! I'll have you know this vehicle once belonged to Elvis Presley.”

“Dad.”

“Seriously! And Elvis always had a gorgeous redhead in the passenger seat. So hurry up, darlin'. The King's waiting.”

By this time, a kid I recognize from my English class has wandered over to check out the car too. Dad gives us the guided tour—the whitewall tires, the original upholstery, the engine, even the ashtrays. I don't know anything about cars, but I can see it's impressing the hell out of the two boys.

Dad basks in the glory for a while, then tosses Colin the keys. “Okay, big guy, let's blow this pop stand.”

Colin looks at the keys, looks back at Dad, then yelps like a cowboy. He jumps into the driver's seat.

The other kid starts walking away, but Dad goes, “Whoa. Stop. You too. Get in.”

The kid kind of laughs and says, “No. Thanks. That's okay.” He tries to slink away, but Dad's not taking no for an answer.

“Life's too short to miss riding in a gen-u-ine mint-condition 1962 LeSabre ragtop.” Dad points at the car as if he's sending the kid to the principal's office. “Now hop in, boy! I mean it.”

The kid looks at me for help. I shake my head. What can I do? When my father wants something, he gets it.

You can tell the kid's worried there's a hidden camera somewhere, but he shrugs and climbs in the backseat with Dad anyway. I slide in beside Colin. We take off with a screech.

Dad doesn't tell Colin to slow down and doesn't freak out when he comes a tad too close to a parked car. He just reaches over the front seat and cranks up the radio. The wind whips my hair over my mouth and eyes. Colin's hat flies off. People on the sidewalk turn to watch us. We're all hooting and laughing. It's so perfect. It's almost like we're in a commercial.

This whole thing is Classic Dad. The surprise visit at the exact right time. The amazing car that may or may not have belonged to Elvis Presley. Letting Colin drive. Dragging a stranger along. Turning an ordinary Friday lunch period into something pretty close to a “life moment.”

So maybe it's a bit on the flashy side. What's wrong with that? Dad's right. Life is too short not to enjoy it. I'm only seventeen, and I get that. Why doesn't Mom?

I turn around and look at Dad. He's making Tim or Tom—I don't remember the guy's name—sing the doo-wop part of some old rock-and-roll song. The fact that neither of them knows the tune doesn't bother him at all. They're hollering at the top of their lungs like two kids at a campfire.

It's right then that I realize something.

I know how I can fix this thing.

I suddenly know how we can all be happy again.

O
rca S
o
undings

The following is an excerpt from
another exciting Orca Soundings novel,
Rock Star
by Adrian Chamberlain.

978-1-55469-235-4 $9.95 pb
978-1-55469-236-1 $16.95 lib

STRUGGLING AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL,

Duncan decides to try out for a local rock band. He plays the bass guitar in the school orchestra, but it is a long way from band camp to rock star. Joining a heavy-metal band, he tries to fit in, dumping his old friends and trying to walk the walk. When his dad's new girlfriend starts to teach him about real rock music and introduces him to her musician brother, Duncan discovers that there is more to being a guitar hero than playing in a heavy-metal band.

Chapter One

After school I walk up the front steps of our house and head straight for the kitchen. I'm starving. There's a peanut butter jar on the counter. But sure enough, someone's used it all up. Empty. That puts me in a bad mood.

There's almost nothing in the fridge. Some stuff that looks like dog food in a Tupperware container. Milk. Old celery. I grab the celery and take a bite. Ugh. All wilty and squishy. So I bend over and gob it into the garbage bin. This is disgusting and weirdly satisfying at the same time.

I'm still bent over the garbage when Dad calls me into the living room. “Duncan!” he yells. “Duncan!”

You'd think I was twelve or some-thing, not fifteen. I'm in grade ten.

School's not my favorite thing, to tell you the truth. Mostly it's boring. Some days I even hate it.

But one thing I do like is the school band. I play bass guitar. Sure, the songs are pretty lame. What do you expect from a big orchestra, with clarinets and French horns and all that stuff? But playing bass guitar is pretty cool.

It's just me and Dad now. I don't have brothers and sisters or anything. Mom died two years ago. She had cancer. It was quick. One day she sat down with me to tell me. She'd been sick for a while, and the doctors thought it was something else at first. I forget what. But then they figured out it was cancer. Six weeks later, she was dead.