"Dad." Bev Norris threw a piece of overbuttered popcorn into her mouth. Thank God for high metabolism. "You can't be serious right?" She was slumped down on the same white couch she had been on nine years ago when she'd found out about her parent's 'Separation'. Her green eyes were just visible over the bowl of popcorn. Although that was all her father could see as he kneeled in front of her, it was painfully obvious what she thought of the ordeal.

"Only for a bit, Bev. I have to sell the house. After your mom left, we were struggling. I should have buckled down and cut out unneeded expenses, but I wanted to keep things normal for you. And now that the company's been taken over, alot of us have been layed off. I'm sorry, but I don't have the money. Your mother is a nurse. She'd be able to keep you happy and cared for. She has a lovely house, really. You've seen it. It's nice and white. Big back yard. Really nice." His eyebrows were tilted down towards his nose, a small indication that he was just as upset as his daugher about this whole idea.

"But, Dad!" She was whining. "I hardly even KNOW her. And I don't care if you wont be able to take care of me. I can get a job. I want to stay with you. Even if we do have to move to a terrible apartment on the east side of town and steal Meals On Wheels trays. I can sell alot of my stuff and -"

"Bev!" He didn't call her Beverly when he was mad. Bev wasn't short for Beverly. It was just... Bev. Her parents hadn't been fond of the name Berverly at all, but they loved the nickname Bev. And their first and only daughter, only CHILD for that matter, was stuck with the title. It never really bothered her, though. "Bev, listen to me. You wouldn't be happy. I'll call you daily, and I'll go there on weekends to visit."

"Why can't I come stay with you on weekends?"

Her father sighed and put his forehead in his hand. "You wouldn't want to see this place. I promise, though, I'll see you. I promise." He lifted his head and attempted a smile. "I wont abandon you." He knew she was worried. Her mother running out, hardly ever seeing her. He never told her it was because Lisa decided that a child just wasn't her cup of tea, but Bev had figured it out as she aged. Lisa couldn't handle the demand of a life other than her own, and instead of looking for the rewarding parts of motherhood, she focused on the needs, the wants, the demands of a kid. And she'd skipped out. That's why Bev never remembered her parents fighting. It wasn't about them... it was really her fault. All the ads on tv had been wrong, and when Bev found out, she'd hardened towards her mother pretty quickly. She had gone to him and said "Just because she birthed me doesn't make her my mother." It broke his heart, but he had been foolish in thinking he could keep it from her her entire life.

Again, he tried to get through to the sad eyes staring back at him. "Bev... Honestly. I don't want this any more than you do. You're my world. And that's why I'm trying to protect you. If you lived with me, you'd have to attended Eastside High your senior year. You don't want that. I know you don't. I just couldn't afford the gas to drive you all the way back out here to the South Side. Your mom's house is right up the street from a school. It's a very nice school, too. We've checked everything out for you. It's for the best."

Bev had begun to change tv stations, switching from MTV back to BET. If her friends knew she liked rap, they'd give her such a hard time. A sigh escaped through her nose and she looked back over at her dad. "So, do I get to finish out the week at Wade Hampton? Say bye to my friends and stuff? And what about Daisy and Harley? And Luci? Can I bring them?"

Her dad had been nodding throughout her tirade, but allowed her to finish before speaking. "Yes, you can finish the week. Saturday, we move. That gives you three days. And the dogs will be coming with you. Your mother was hesitant to let them come, though, so make sure you brush up on their training. She has two cats. Do you remember them? You named them when you were little. They're almost as old as you are. Sid and Abby. Anyway... I told your mother you wouldn't adjust well without them. But Luci...your mom just can't handle another cat. We'll have to take her back to the Humane Society unless you can have a friend keep her or something."

Bev suddenly tossed the popcorn bowl in the air and whirled off the couch towards the stairs on her right. Popcorn and salt rained down on the furniture and the floor as David hoisted himself up. A calloused hand ran through greying hair as the bowl crashed to the hardwood with a clatter. Shortly after, a bedroom door slammed upstairs.