Phone Problems

Tyler Jones was a pretty stout young man. At five-seven, two-hundred-twenty pounds, he made most of the other fifth graders in Ms. Lawrence's class look like first graders. Despite his crooked grin and the charm he often layered on thick, Tyler spent his fair share of time sitting in the principal's office thinking about his choices. As he shuffled down the hallway toward class, his backpack thrown over one shoulder, his lunchbox grasped firmly in his fist, he tried to push the unpleasantness of that morning out of his mind. Perhaps if his father drank a little less in the evenings, he'd be more inclined to get up and take Tyler to school in the morning, maybe even make it to work himself. But Tyler had learned a long time ago most teachers didn't really care what happened to you at home so long as you le