I.D. by Vicki Grant

Chapter One
    I shouldn’t have stopped. I was late already. But if you see a wallet on the sidewalk, what do you do? You stop.
    I picked it up. I looked around. I could only see one person, an old guy, walking his dog.
    Mr. Oxner was going to kill me. I’d already been suspended a couple of times for not showing up, flunking out, mouthing off, whatever. He’d gone crazy at methe day before. He said this was my last chance. If I so much as chewed gum in class—that’s what he said—I was out for good. Expelled.
    Like I cared.
    I wanted to say, “Shove it.” I didn’t need anyone—especially Oxner—telling me what I could or could not do.
    But I needed a place to stay. I needed to eat. If I got expelled, my stepfather would totally lose it. He’d make me go back to working checkout at the grocery store for six bucks an hour. He’d probably try to kick me out of the house. He’d for sure make my life hell. (Like it wasn’t already.)
    I could just hear him going on and on about how I’d screwed up again. How I’d never amount to anything. How I was a waste, deadweight, a jerk.
    Yeah, right. Takes one to know one. That’s what I’d be thinking—but I wouldn’t say it. I’d just have to keep my mouth shut.
    I couldn’t hack that. There’s no way I could just stand there while Ron spat all over me and Mom cried and Mandydidn’t. The kid was only fourteen but she couldn’t even cry anymore. She’d seen it all before.
    I had to get to school. I had to keep Oxner happy for another month. Then I’d graduate. I’d get a job—like a real job—and get out of the house for good.
    I looked at my watch. I looked at the old guy. I could tell he wasn’t rich. I didn’t want his dog to go hungry. I figured I could make it.
    I ran over to him. I went, “Hey!” I said it too loud. He put his fists up like he was going to hit me. It was pathetic. He must have been eighty.
    â€œDid you lose a black wallet?” I said. He put his hands down and laughed.
    He said, “Whoa, there, young fella! I thought I was going to have to show you what for! And I could have too. Don’t let this gray hair fool you. I used to be a boxer, you know...”
    I cut him off. I showed him the wallet. “This yours?”
    â€œCould be,” he said. “How much money’s in it?”
    I pulled it open and counted the bills. “About seventy-five bucks,” I said.
    â€œNah,” he said, “I wouldn’t take it off your hands for anything less than a hundred!” He had a good laugh about that.
    I could have smacked him. I didn’t have time to waste on some old geezer and his stupid jokes.
    I swore—and scared him again. I stuffed the wallet into my back pocket and ran.
    I made it to math class just in time. I skidded into my desk right as the bell stopped ringing. Oxner couldn’t say a thing.
    I looked straight at him and laughed.
    He put on this prissy smile and said, “So glad you could make it, Christopher.” I could tell he was really pissed off he couldn’t do anything to me. He started writing on the board like a maniac. The chalk snapped in half and he muttered something under his breath.
    â€œWhat was that, sir?” I said. “Did you say something?”
    He went all white and twitchy.
    â€œNothing,” he said. “I didn’t say anything.” Yeah, right. Like we all didn’t know he was swearing. Poor baby broke his chalk. What an idiot.
    Alexa Doucette turned around and winked at me. She was laughing. She whispered, “Nice job! You so nailed him!” I liked that. I never knew she’d even noticed me before.
    I had a pencil and some paper. I brought my textbook. If Oxner asked, I even knew what page we were on. Everything was going great. I was bulletproof. I smiled back at her.
    It’s funny now, but I remember sitting there