Note: It's been a while. Lots of things have been going on. I went to China for a week, stopped doing anything productive, and got into college. I also changed some things in chapter one, but you don't have to reread it to get what's going on in this chapter. As someone suggested to me, Thomas' dad now speaks in Mandarin instead of broken English, and Thomas goes by his Chinese nickname at home (Xiao-Tian).

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DAD'S SEEN IT ALL: Chapter Two

It was as if that one morning had made them friends, because whatever classroom or hall Thomas passed for the next few days, Leroy would pop out of nowhere to say hi, and Thomas would just barely manage to mumble something in return. Funny, how he never realized how many times he could pass by the same person in a single day. He figured it was because Leroy was currently the only new presence in his life, and that he would stop noticing this guy wherever he went once he became used to it. He put together Leroy's schedule in his head, piece by piece, so he knew where to find him, or rather, how to avoid him. Just last week, he hadn't been so sure if he liked not having friends at all, and now he was certain that he wanted to keep it that way.

Outside, the sky was growing dark. Thomas had stayed in school long after classes ended just to finish his homework, so he wouldn't have to bring his textbooks home. He loved the feeling of being alone in the locker hallway, or not quite alone, because he could hear the school choir in the nearby auditorium, but it wasn't close enough to bother him. Today, it was different, because he now knew that Leroy was in the auditorium and would pass him on his way out, which meant Thomas would have to leave earlier than usual.

He heard a shuffling noise at the other end of the hall. From where he sat, he could see that it was Chloe, putting on her jacket and slamming her locker shut. Thomas stood and was just about to dash into the stairwell when Chloe called out, "Thomas! Is that you? What are you doing here so late?"

"I'm always here," said Thomas. He was angry at her for asking, just because she was just making conversation, because she had never stayed in school late enough to see him sitting there, because she honestly didn't give a crap about him. "Why are you here?"

"I'm… waiting for someone."

The choir music had stopped for some time now. Thomas suddenly realized how retarded he looked, standing there cradling his textbooks, positioned to sprint away like some tiny helpless animal. People were already starting to come out. "Um, I have to go." And he did. He stuffed all his books into his bag and left without another glance at Chloe's weirded-out expression.

It only occurred to him when he pushed open the double doors and a gust of freezing wind hit him in the face that he had forgotten to bring his jacket, and that his bag was at least thirty pounds heavier than usual and about to split at the seams. He went back inside, taking the stairs in the side hall to his locker, hoping no one would leave that way. The stairwell was silent, and Thomas hurried up the steps, taking two at a time. He was just about to give a sigh of relief when he saw someone in the hall through the small window of the stair door.

Leroy had his back to him, and appeared to be leaning over something. It took Thomas a while to realize that something was Chloe, with her back pressed against a locker. They were kissing. Not the kind of making out Thomas often saw in the middle of the hallway, with the exaggerated head movements and saliva swapping, but just a simple kiss. Or maybe it wasn't even a kiss, because all Thomas could see was the familiar back of Leroy's head. For a second, Thomas almost thought Chloe had melted into the wall. She seemed so small and helpless behind Leroy, arms hanging loosely around his neck, as if he held her entire weight.

Thomas ran. He wasn't sure why—all he knew was that he did not want to be there, or anywhere. The books in his bag jabbed his back until it stung and ached, but he kept running until he reached the subway station. His sweat felt like a sheet of ice, trapped between his shirt and his skin. He leaned over the sidewalk and threw up whatever was leftover from his lunch. A woman passing by asked if he was okay and he ignored her, stumbling down the stairs and through the turnstile. There was a man in the station without any legs, wearing a sign around his neck and swinging himself forward on his hands. Thomas walked away to avoid being on the same car with him, to the other end of the platform.

He had to stand for the entire thirty-minute ride home, shoved against the car door by the other passengers and the weight of his books, facing the dark window, until the train finally rose above ground and he felt free to breathe again.

When he got home, his dad was reading the Chinese World Journal and eating at the same time, occasionally grabbing a piece of food between chopsticks without even glancing away from the paper. Takeout, again. "It says here that kids are applying to more colleges now that there is internet," he greeted, jabbing one end of his chopsticks at the title of the article he was reading. "If you want to go to MIT, you will need to work harder."

Thomas said nothing. He kicked off his shoes and went straight to his room. His dad found him on his bed, without his glasses but still in dirty clothes, busying himself with a Rubik's cube.

"Your father works a whole day just so you can play? This is what you want?"

"No."

"Where's your jacket?"

"In school." He threw the completed cube aside and pulled the covers over his head. "I'm not hungry at all. Just sleepy."

For a long time, his dad didn't say anything. Thomas cringed and waited for the long lecture to come. When he finally found the courage to lower the covers, his dad was gone and the lights were off. The door had been left slightly open and he squinted at the light from the living room, but couldn't make out anything. Too tired to reach for his glasses, he rolled over and went to sleep.

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It snowed the next day and while schools began on time, subways ran late, and Thomas barely made it to class before first period. He draped his dripping windbreaker over the back of his chair, shivering and thankful for the overheated classroom, making a note to himself to never forget to bring his jacket home again.

The teacher glanced impatiently at his watch. Half the seats in the room were still empty. Thomas closed his eyes for a while and when he opened them again, Leroy was sitting in front of him, as usual, getting settled for class.

"Hey, Tom."

"Hi."

Thomas waited for Leroy to turn away, but he didn't. For the first time, he took a good long look at the guy who had been sitting in front of him for the past three months and noticed that Leroy's eyes were green. No, brown. Or maybe gray.

"I know this might sound kind of strange…" Leroy began. He seemed uncomfortable, and shifted in his seat so that he didn't have to strain his neck to be face-to-face with Thomas. "Do you have next period free?"

"No."

"Can I talk to you after school?"

The image of Chloe leaning on the locker flashed through Thomas' mind, except he hadn't really seen her because Leroy had been standing in front of her. He suddenly felt sick again. Sick and trapped. "Why?"

Leroy pursed his lips and turned his seat even further. "I was wondering if you could help me with physics or math. Or both."

"Why?"

"Because you're smart and you want to help me?" Big hopeful grin. How charming.

Thomas didn't even blink. "I mean, why do you need my help?"

"Well…" Leroy's desk had made almost a complete ninety-degree turn. "I got deferred. From college. It'll probably be too late if I wait until after winter break. I need better grades by the end of this semester."

"You want me to tutor you over break?"

The teacher finally had enough and announced that he was going to start, even with half the class missing. "After school?" Leroy mouthed silently, and Thomas gave him what looked like a nod without the slightest clue of what he had just gotten himself into.

He saw Chloe three times that day—once in the cafeteria, twice in his grade hallway. He had known her for at least ten years, and until now, he never realized how pretty she was. It was absurd that he should think that now, because she looked like every other Asian girl, with her straight hair pulled back in an ordinary ponytail. But there was something about the way she carried herself.

Right. She was going out with a white boy, a senior, the class president. And perhaps doing more than that.

Thomas sucked his cheeks in and pulled himself further off to the side to let several ninth graders pass. Leroy was nowhere to be seen and Thomas guessed he wasn't going to look for him in the junior hall, but he wasn't about to move just so Leroy could find him. People were starting to leave, and when he finally had enough personal space, Thomas lowered himself onto the floor, flipping his textbook open, watching the legs and feet of those walking back and forth.

After a while, when the hall had emptied, someone came and sat down next to him. Thomas knew who it was, but didn't look up.

"Thanks for waiting. I had to avoid Mrs. Loren before coming here. I don't think I'm going to chorus today."

"You're cutting chorus," said Thomas. It didn't sound much like a question.

Leroy hesitated—no, he paused to think. "Well, I realized a bit too late that math is actually more important. I mean, I manage to pull through with a B every time, for 'effort in class.' I even had the teacher write one of my college recs, but… it's useless, unless I show improvement."

"What college?"

"Amherst."

"Oh." It surprised him, but Thomas didn't show it. What had he expected?

"So will you help me? I know it's a lot to ask, and I'll totally understand if you say no. But if you agree to this whole thing, I'll go anywhere you think is a convenient place and buy you lunch every day until the end of this semester. No kidding. Just think of New York City as an all-you-can-eat diner for an entire month."

Thomas stared at him.

"You think I'm crazy."

"Yes."

"You think I'm completely hopeless and desperate and stupid."

"…yes."

"Please? You don't know how important this is to me."

Thomas thought he felt Leroy touch his arm. He looked away. "Actually, I think I do," he muttered.

"What?"

"I said no."

Leroy smiled, got up and sat down on Thomas' other side so that they were facing each other again. "No, you didn't."

"I said I couldn't help you if I wanted to."

They were both quiet for a long time. Thomas kept his eyes on the textbook in his lap, wishing Leroy would just leave already. He had begun to suspect that it was all just Chloe's plot to embarrass him, to make him feel envious of her confident curly-haired Caucasian boyfriend, or something. Finally, Leroy stood and swung his bag over his shoulder. "Um… thanks, anyway. I guess." He didn't look too bothered. "It's a big favor and I shouldn't have asked. I'll see you around."

He started to leave and Thomas suddenly felt as if he had lost a part of himself, like that man he saw in the subway station yesterday. "Wait," he said, and Leroy stopped. What would he say now? I can't stand? Help me get up?

"I—I'll help you."

He watched as Leroy's surprise and relief lit the entire hall, and he almost smiled.

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Dun dun dun… to be continued. Obviously. As always, I'm open to critiques and comments!