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Good Enough--Crossroads--Chapter Five--New Teachers

"Hey, it's good to see you," Sylvia greeted on Wednesday as Chance rushed into the classroom. Their geometry teacher, Ms. Brown, was busily writing on the board, more notes for them to take when class began.

"You too," Chance answered happily, grinning at her.

She looked over him carefully. "You do the homework?"

"We had homework? I'm joking," Chance added quickly when he saw her disapproving glare. He reached into his backpack, pulling out the paper. "See, all done?"

She took it, glancing over his answers. "Nice," she said. "Quality crap."

"My crap's the finest," Chance said jokingly. "How's your day been going?"

"Pretty good," she said with a small sigh. "Want it to be over."

"Me too," Chance answered, "but I'm still grounded so going home's not going to be much fun." He took a deep breath. "At least I've got the art club today."

"Art club?" she asked.

"Yeah, I do some sketches," Chance explained, "but they're not really that good."

"Can I see?"

Chance shrugged and withdrew his sketchbook from his backpack. He handed it to her, sitting by nervously as she flitted through it. Sylvia studied them analytically before speaking again. "These are pretty good," she said kindly, "although they don't have any color."

"I'm not good at coloring," Chance confessed. "I like doing it in black and--" A loud buzz cut off Chance's sentence, causing them both to stiffen and turn forward.

"After class," Sylvia said just seconds before Ms. Brown turned.

"So," Sylvia said as they walked out of the class an hour later, "you're heading to gym, right?"

Chance bit his lip. "Yeah, but I hate gym. I'm not athletic."

"That's why you take gym," she explained. "To learn how to be athletic. I'm not very athletic myself. I'm better at math."

"I suck at math," Chance scoffed. "Just awful."

"If you want, I can help you study," she offered. "What're you doing this weekend?"

"Not sure."

"Well, how about you come by after church?" she suggested. "We can study together and I can help you with your math."

"You sure your parents would want you to have a guy over?" Chance asked teasingly.

She shrugged. "Well, I'm sure I can convince them. Since our parents are already friends, it shouldn't be too hard."

"Okay! Sounds like a plan," Chance said happily. "My dad knows I'll need all the help I can get."

---

"Argent, come here!" Coach Salt called, just after he had dismissed the rest of the class to change once more. Chance stopped and swallowed, his ears flattened against his head as he approached the coach. Other watched him in intrigue, wondering why the coach had called him over.

"Look, pup, I'm going to be honest with you," Coach Salt said darkly. He glimpsed over his clipboard, sighing heavily. "You're not going to pass the fitness test with these scores."

Chance looked down. "Sorry, I'm trying my hardest."

"Are you really?" Coach Salt asked. "Argent... Charles, the fitness tests make up the majority of your grades in this class. I understand if you're not an athlete, but you'll need to do better if you're going to pass."

Chance looked downward. "Coach, I'm trying my hardest, but I just can't keep up! I'm not athletic. I mean, look at me! Nothing but fur and bones."

"Well, here's what I suggest," the coach continued. "First, a proper diet. What kind of meals do you eat?"

"Depends on what my stepmother makes," Chance answered.

"I have a few menus you can use to eat a balanced diet," Coach Salt said. "I'll be sure to give you one. Secondly, you'll need to get more exercise than just what you get in PE. Maybe go jogging or do some push-ups. Something to keep yourself more active."

"Yes, sir," Chance answered dejectedly, wanting the conversation to end.

"Maybe even get someone to train you," Coach Salt added.

"Okay," Chance said in exasperation.

"Go get changed," Coach Salt sighed. "I'll make sure you get a menu."

Chance nodded and went towards the locker room. He rushed over towards his locker, trying his hardest to ignore the looks that those he passed were giving him. His gaze lifted slightly towards Zack, who was putting on his shirt, his muscles visible beneath his black fur. Without a doubt, Zack was physically fit, strong, healthy.

Get someone to train me... He could probably do it, right? Would he? What do I have to lose? I need someone to train me... Maybe... Why not him?

Chance took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but the words failed to come. His teeth clicked as his mouth opened and closed, unable to form words, his voice lost in his own apprehension.

"Do you got a problem or something? I don't stare at you, do I?"

Zack's irritable voice cut into Chance's thoughts. Chance blinked once, twice...

"Can I ask you something?"

Zack's eyebrow lifted in intrigue and he glanced around. Others were watching them, and Zack let out a small growl. The noise seemed to warn the others to look away, and they quickly occupied themselves with conversations or texting. Zack rolled his eyes and looked back down at the white wolf-dog standing shyly before him.

"Spit it out," Zack ordered.

Chance swallowed thickly and stepped backwards. "Well, it was stupid idea. Forget I said anything."

He turned towards his locker and hurriedly unlocked it, quickly pulling off his shirt. He glanced over at Zack, who stood there with his arms crossed, looking annoyed.

"Just fucking say it," Zack snarled.

Chance flinched at the sounds of Zack's voice and took a deep breath, quickly launching into a rushed explanation. "I need a trainer to help me get more physically fit so I pass the fitness tests, but I don't know anyone who could help me so I was going to ask you if you could but I--"

Zack's heavy paw closed around Chance's muzzle, silencing him. Silently, Chance was glad that he had managed to avoid biting down on his own tongue.

"So you want me to train you?" Zack surmised. Chance attempted to speak, but Zack's paw remained closed around his muzzle. Chance nodded. Before Zack could say anything more, a loud buzz cut through the locker room and many of the students were leaving, hurrying off to their next class. "We'll discuss this later."

Zack released him and walked off, leaving Chance to exhale a sigh of relief, his heart thumping painfully in his chest as his fear started to abate.

A few minutes later, Chance was making his way towards the cafeteria, much calmer. He quickly sat down at the usual table, soon joined by his friends. They looked over him curiously, as though he had said something absurd.

"What's eating you?" Lexi wondered.

"Nothing," Chance answered. "Just some issues in one of my classes."

"Come on, talk to me, buddy," Junior said, grinning. "Is it math?"

"No, it's gym," Chance said in embarrassment. "I think I'm failing."

"How?" Lexi scoffed, snorting in amusement. "You can't fail gym. You just gotta show up and fake it."

"That's not true," Benny said. "I've failed before."

"You didn't go," Lexi countered.

Benny shrugged. "The point is, you can still fail gym. And if memory serves me, you failed speech."

"That's different. I'm not good at talking," Lexi countered.

"Bull," Junior interjected. "You talk too much as it is."

Chance chortled. "Guess everyone's got a class that they suck at." He let out a heavy sigh. "I'll figure something out."

"What's there to figure out?" Lexi asked. "Just do your best and you'll, at worst, walk away with a C."

"Can't walk away with a C. Dad's set me an ultimatum; nothing below a B, so--What?" he asked, noticing that Lexi's eyes had gone wide and Junior had begun to scowl--Junior looked absolutely murderous. But a heavy paw touched his shoulder and Chance flinched. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the dark eyes of Zack Bailey glaring down at him.

"Zack's here," Benny remarked through a mouthful of apple.

"Go away," Junior ordered, rising from his seat, his voice seething with hatred. "No one wants you here."

"I'm not here for you," Zack said with equal loathing. "We need to talk," he said to Chance.

"O... okay," Chance breathed, standing.

"Hold it," Junior said. "You don't just get to come over here and--"

"It's okay," Chance told him. "Just give me a minute."

"Chance, you don't want to get involved with this jackal," Junior warned. "Trust me, he's nothing but bad news!"

"Chance, maybe we should hang around just to be safe," Lexi insisted, sounding worried.

Chance looked between Zack and his friends and said, "I promise it'll be okay. Won't take long."

"Chance--!"

Chance gave what he hoped was an encouraging grin and turned to face Zack. The jackal said nothing as he started to walk off and Chance followed behind him. Not once did the jackal turn to see if Chance was following but once they were outside of the cafeteria, he turned to look Chance in the eye.

"You asked me to train you," Zack said simply, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.

"Sorry, it was just a dumb idea," Chance replied. "Forget it, I just--"

"What do I get out of it?" Zack challenged.

Chance sighed heavily. "I don't know, I'm just desperate. I'm about to fail the class and the coach suggested that I get a trainer and--Maybe I can help you with your artwork? I'm good at making sketches and stuff. Or if you want, I can--"

"You like to talk, don't you?" Zack scoffed. Chance silenced himself. Zack thought for a moment. His head turned slightly and he let out a small growl. Chance followed his gaze to see Junior, watching them intently. Zack might've looked like he was grinning, but when he spoke, his face had returned to its usual scowl. "I'll do it. I've got some equipment at my place we can use."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Meet me in the parking lot after school. Don't make me wait," Zack said. He started to walk off towards Junior, purposely bumping into him as he turned the corner and out of sight.

Junior huffed heavily and moved over towards Chance who resisted the urge to step back.

"What's going on? Why'd he talk to you?" Junior demanded.

Chance rubbed the back of his head. "He's going to help me out with something," Chance explained.

"You don't want to get involved with him!" Junior said. "He's mean, he's violent, he's--"

"For him to be such a bad guy, I've never seen or heard him actually get into a fight or anything," Chance interrupted. "He seems a bit irritable, but that's not so bad. Maybe he just likes to keep to himself. What's your big problem with him? What happened between you two?"

Junior inhaled deeply. "It's a long story. But just trust me. He's bad for you."

"How do you know that?"

Junior rolled his eyes irritably. "You know what, go ahead. And when he breaks you in half, I'll be waiting to say I told you so."

---

Chance walked out to the parking lot to find Zack leaning on his car waiting for him. Zack scowled as he approached.

"You took your time," Zack grumbled.

"I had to get my things," said Chance. Glancing around awkwardly, he mumbled, "Um...so what did you want to talk to me about?"

Zack crossed his arms and looked at him intently. "What kind of training are you looking for?"

Chance frowned in confusion. "What?"

"You know." Zack started counting fingers. "Weights, cardio, endurance...what are you after?"

Chance blinked. "I uh...I just need to pass the fitness test..."

Zack rolled his eyes. "Fucking newbies..."

"Hey!"

Zack shook his head and sighed. "Look, if you want to improve, you gotta know exactly what you want to improve. We'll start with the basics and work our way up."

"Okay."

Zack reached into his car and pulled out a notebook. He used one of his colored pencils to scribble down an address. Handing it to Chance, he said, "Here's my address. Don't lose it. You free on Saturday?"

Chance thought for a moment and his heart leapt. He'd no longer be grounded! "Yes!" Catching himself, he repeated (in what he hoped was a cool tone), "I mean - yeah."

Zack made a noise of approval. "Good. Meet me at my place at noon. And bring water."

Chance nodded, staring down at the piece of paper in his paw. The paper shook in his paw from how excited he was. It wasn't quite the hunky jackal's number, but his address was almost as good!

Zack noticed his shaking and grunted. "You don't have to be so nervous around me all the time. I don't bite."

"S-sorry," Chance stammered. He shook his head to clear it. Zack's comment spurred on another thought. "Hey...can I ask you a personal question?"

Zack raised an eyebrow. "Depends on how personal."

Chance cleared his throat nervously. "What happened between you and Junior?"

Zack growled as his tail lashed with anger. "That's none of your damn business!"

"Okay, okay!" Chance stepped back and held both paws up. "I'm just curious is all...Junior doesn't like you for some reason."

Zack simmered down a little, dragging a paw down his face. "Look, it's a long story. But what happened between us stays between us. Got it?"

Chance gulped. "Yeah. Sorry."

Zack fixed him with a glare. "So do you want my help or not?"

Chance's ears perked. "Of course!"

"Good. It's settled. Don't be late." Zack reached into his car again and took out a blank canvas. "Now come on. We'll be late for the club." Zack started toward the school, but seemed to remember something and turned around. "Hey pup! What's your name again?"

"Um..." Chance stammered in shock. "Well, my name's Charles, but -"

"Charlie." He thought he saw the ghost of a grin on Zack's muzzle before he turned back around. "It fits you."

Chance was glad the jackal couldn't see the dopey grin on his face.