"I know. I guess it's just the breaks," I replied as I pretended to throw a rock to the ground. Mom had converted to Catholicism when she and Chuck were married. She went to church with the rest of us, but wasn't as gung-ho about it as Chuck was.
One of the kids from school came up to start some trouble. His name was Tony Travers. He was someone who always walked around with his shoulders hunched up and his hands made into fists. Some of the kids had called me Fang when I was a little younger because my teeth were growing in crooked. He called my brother Little Fang.
"Nice hair, Fang." He said to me.
"Better than yours, idiot," I said.
"How'd you like a bust in the mouth?" Tony said.
"Sorry - I don't like the taste of milk. That's all," as I waved my hand.
My mom opened the door and came outside.
"Hey, what's going on?" said Mom.
"Nothing," I said.
Tony just stood there lamely and walked away.
"All right, let's go."
We started to turn right, but mom went left and told us to follow her.