Free Taming the Star Runner by S. E. Hinton

on the parking lot.
    It had been too long since he’d been in a fight, he decided. He’d forgotten how much it hurt to get punched.
    â€œGet me fired, will you? I needed this job—”
    Travis rolled to avoid getting kicked, got to his feet, and flew into Gary with a couple of swift jabs. He had the satisfaction of seeing both surprise and blood before getting knocked on his ass again. This time he wasn’t fast enough to miss getting kicked.
    If I wasn’t drunk I could take him, he thought. Then: God, don’t let me be killed before my book’s published.
    The owner came back out and pulled Gary away.
    Travis lay there and listened to them yelling at each other.
    At least it wasn’t my nose, Travis thought, curled up around his cracked ribs like a worm on a stick. He coulda really ruined my face.
    It was a while before he felt like moving. For one thing, he wanted to make sure both those guys were gone. He thought they were, then heard their voices again.
    â€œOkay, okay, you’re not fired. But you know what I did, man. I put my
house
on the line for this place. My goddamn house.”
    â€œI didn’t let that kid in. Mike shoulda spotted him.”
    â€œThey say they never spotted him.”
    â€œIt was a packed house, man.”
    â€œYeah, we pulled in the big bucks … Sherry might have seen him. She says not, though. I coulda lost my house.”
    Travis listened, not moving, not calling attention to himself. He decided that all those years of writing, all that last year of working on the book, clobbering Stan, it was all a predictable chain of events leading up to this guy losing his house.
    This is so totally weird, man, he thought. His face felt sticky. He hoped it was blood and not motor oil.
    â€œAnd did you have to beat the kid up? Look at him. What if the cops come by?”
    They were closer now.
    â€œHe had it comin’!”
    â€œOkay.” The owner was squatting down beside him. “Where do you live?”
    â€œCleveland,” Travis muttered.
    â€œThen forget me calling a cab.”
    â€œNo.” Travis rolled himself into a scrunched sitting position, huddling in his jacket. “Could you call my uncle?”
    â€œGeez, Gary, you really whopped up on him.”
    â€œHe had it comin’.”
    â€œI’m okay. Could you call my uncle?”
    Travis was really tired of this scene. He dreaded the coming hangover.
    When the owner left to call Ken, Gary kicked him again. “You had it comin’.”
    Travis didn’t even feel it.
    I sold my book. He clutched at the thought like a drowning man at a raft. He wanted to be somewhere quiet to think about it.
    It wasn’t on the ride home. He had never seen Ken this mad. The only thing saving him was Christopher sleeping in his car seat—Ken had to keep it down a little. Travis had forgotten Christopher was going to be at the ranch this weekend.
    Ken pulled up at the back door. He paused for the first time since Travis had staggered into the car.
    â€œWell.”
    â€œWell what?” Travis winced as he popped the door open.
    â€œYou have anything to say?”
    â€œYeah, I sure am glad I didn’t have to listen to all that sober.”
    For a second Travis felt a stab of fear at the look on Ken’s face. But somehow he came up with the bravado he’d faced the cops with.
    â€œChill out, man,” he said. “It’s my life.”
    He and Ken stared at each other in the white glare of the car’s interior light. Travis waited, shivering, though he wasn’t cold…
    â€œI used to say that,” Ken said. There wasn’t any irony in his voice at all, only a half-laughing wonder. “I remember saying that.”
    Later, watching the room spin, wishing he could throw up, Travis felt strangely comforted. It was really weird, but ever since Ken yelled at him, he hadn’t seemed so lonesome anymore.

Chapter 6
    His head felt