Have you ever been in a situation where you felt you didn't have control? Maybe you felt like other people were telling you what to do, or that you didn't have any choices. It's pretty frustrating, isn't it? Or how about those times when you're in really big trouble with your parents or your teachers? Do you remember feeling that you wanted to be anywhere else but where you were?
Usually, if we look back on those times, we can think up at least one other way to handle the situation that might have made for a better ending. We can see that we would have ended up feeling better about ourselves. And we might have been able to keep a sense of being in control.
How do we learn to make better choices in the first place? It's a matter of thinking hard about what's important to you, and where you want to go from where you are. Most people make decisions that reflect their values and goals. If you have positive values and goals, then you will make decisions that are good for everybody involved.
The stories in this book are about kids like you who find themselves involved in difficult situations. The characters have to make tough decisions, often very quickly. As you read the stories, think about some ways that these characters can solve their problems. And try to imagine how they could have avoided the problems in the first place. There are several questions at the end of each story to help you.
This book is divided into two sections. The first section, "With Family and Friends," is about kids facing problems in everyday life. The second section is called "Inside Scouting". Here, Scouts deal with situations in their troop and in camp.
Some of these stories may feel familiar to you and others may deal with problems you've never thought about. Thinking about and talking about these stories are good ways for you to check out what you might do in similar situations.
Paul put a smile on his face before he entered the classroom. Everything had to seem normal, and if Paul wasn't smiling, people would know something was wrong.
He talked to a few of his classmates, then sat down when the bell rang. He kept his algebra book in his hands. He didn't want to set it under his chair like the rest of the students did.
The instructor spoke to the class for a few minutes, then turned to his desk to get the tests. While the instructor's back was turned, Paul pulled a small piece of paper from inside the front cover of his book. The test answers were written on it. Paul had been given them at lunchtime by a friend who felt pretty sure he had aced the test first hour. Paul crumpled the paper in his hand and laid his fist on his desk.
Paul did the first few problems easily. When he looked at the rest of the test, though, he didn't understand the questions. He felt stupid and stared at the test paper.
Paul glanced quickly around the room and saw that everyone was busy writing. He gradually relaxed his fist and began to read the crumpled paper in his hand. He worked slowly, scribbling out messy equations and then writing in the correct answer. At the end of the hour, he handed in his test. He threw the small piece of paper into the trash on his way out of the room.
For the rest of the day, Paul tried to forget what he had done. He felt guilty as he thought of how his parents would react if they found out. But he told himself that everyone cheated once in a while. It was no big deal.
In math class the next day, the instructor asked Paul to stay after. Paul looked calm as he stood by his desk when the bell rang, but his stomach was doing flips.
"Paul, was the work you did on the test your own work?" the teacher asked. "I knew you were having trouble with some of it, but it looks to me like you turned in work that wasn't your own. Did you cheat?"
Paul didn't answer. He just stared at the floor and wished he could be anywhere else.
"Paul, I have no choice but to fail you," the teacher said angrily. "Your equations don't match your answers. I won't tell your parents about this, but if I catch you cheating again, I'll see to it that you're punished. If you want help with the work, come in after school and I'll tutor you."
Paul said nothing. He walked out of the room and out of the school, forgetting about the practice he was supposed to attend. He just kept walking. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he wanted to get away.
Nathan watched his friend Billy riding his bike in front of his house. Nathan was jealous. Billy got anything he wanted, while Nathan got nothing. It just wasn't fair.
Billy had the coolest bike in the school. Everyone was really nice to him because they wanted to ride it. But Nathan didn't want to just ride the bike; he wanted to own it. He would have done anything to have Billy's bike. Nathan's parents didn't have much money, so a bike like Billy's was out of the question. Nathan would have to find some other way of getting the bike.
Even though Billy was always showing off the bike, he was very careful about locking it up in the garage at night. But he really trusted Nathan. Nathan was the only person, besides Billy and his parents, who knew where the bike was kept.
Nathan had an idea about how he could get the bike. It would be so easy - Billy would never suspect a thing! He could always get another bike anyway, Nathan thought.
One night, Nathan went back to Billy's house, but not to see Billy. Billy and his family were asleep. Nathan opened the door to their garage with the spare key his family kept. He was very quiet, knowing it would be hard to explain what he was doing there in the middle of the night.
He walked over to the bike and unlocked it easily. Then he rolled it outside and shut the garage door behind him. When he had walked the bike for about a half a block, he got on it and began to ride.
It was so great! The wind was blowing, pushing him faster and faster towards his house. The bike was fantastic!
When he got home, Nathan put the bike in his own garage and covered it with a sheet. His parents never went into the garage anyway. He let himself into his house and went up to his room. Once under the covers, though, Nathan found It hard to sleep. He thought about what he had done-in a way, he felt sort of bad for Billy. But he also felt good about having the bike for himself.
The next morning Nathan's mother woke him up to tell him Billy was on the phone.
"Nathan!" Billy cried. "My bike is gone! I locked it up last night and now it's gone!" Billy was shouting into the phone. "I really love that bike!"
So did Nathan.
John was so angry at his parents that he turned up the volume on his stereo as high as he could just to annoy them. Then he threw a sneaker against the wall. He was glad when it left a big black mark.
John had just settled into living in Iowa. He had met a couple of cool guys and found some fantastic places to hang out. Now, just after he was getting it together for the first time in years, he had to move again.
John had spent most of his fifteen years moving from town to town with his mother's job transfers. He resented the constant shuffling around, but he never told his parents.
"I guess I was just being stupid," he said to himself. "I was hoping that this time would be different, but it won't ever change. At least not until I go off to college." He turned off his light and got into bed, leaving his music on to ease his pain.
Two weeks later he was unpacking his stuff in his new room in Minneapolis when the doorbell rang. John opened the door to find a tall black guy of about fourteen smiling at him from the doorway.
"Hi!" the boy said. "I'm Kevin and I live next door. Welcome to Minneapolis."
John stared at the boy. Even though he had lived in many places, John had never really talked to a black guy before. It wasn't as if he was racist, he was just inexperienced. This guy didn't seem to fit any of the stereotypes John had seen on t.v.
"Is something wrong?" Kevin looked concerned as he watched John. "I mean, if it's a bad time, I could come back later."
"No, this is fine. C'mon in," John babbled as he opened the door wider. "My mind was just somewhere else."
They sat together on the living room floor, surrounded by boxes. Kevin was very easy to talk to about all sorts of things, even music. He was interested in jazz just as much as John was, and John opened up to Kevin. He was glad to have someone to talk to.
The front door opened and John's parents came in laughing. They stopped when they saw Kevin and John.
"Who are you?" John's mother asked Kevin.
"Kevin Jones from next door, ma'am," Kevin said. He stood up and extended his hand.
John's mother ignored Kevin's outstretched hand and told John sternly, "I think it's about time he left. We have a lot of unpacking to do."
After the door shut behind Kevin, John turned to his parents with a look of disbelief. "Why were you so rude to Kevin?" he asked. "He was just being friendly!"
"I don't care how friendly he was. I don't want you associating with people like that," John's father said.
"I don't believe this! What does it matter that he's black?" John was yelling now and his face was bright red.
"Your father and I don't think that it's a good idea for you and that black kid to be friends," John's mother explained.
"You don't even know him. How can you say that? I can't understand why you're acting this way! Kevin is the nicest person I've met in a while. You aren't even giving him a chance!"
John ran to his room and turned on the stereo, letting the music relax him.
Later that evening, John answered the phone in his room. It was Kevin.
"I called to invite you to the beach tomorrow with me and a bunch of other kids."
John let himself think about a day at the beach with kids his own age. His thoughts were interrupted by his father's voice.
"John, who's on the phone?" asked his father from the other room.
John didn't answer his father, but instead agreed to go to the beach with Kevin.
Everything had changed for Peter since his parent's divorced. All the freedom his parents had given to him before was gone. He was living with his father, who had rules for everything. Peter felt trapped in a life that he didn't recognize.
Now there was going to be another change. His father was going to marry a dumb blonde girl he had met through some dating service. Peter thought she was really disgusting.
Peter knew that the woman, Sharon, was trying to be nice. But he had to laugh. If she thought she could be his mother, she was wrong.
Peter decided that he would do something that would solve everyone's problems. He would run away. He thought that he would go to live with his mother. He knew that she loved him. The only problem was that she didn't have a lot of money. But Peter figured he could get a job and help out. He planned to leave the day before the wedding. He had saved the bus fare and packed a bag with everything that he wanted to take.
Peter got to the station about an hour before the bus was supposed to leave. He sat down to wait, and he and the girl next to him began to talk. The girl told Peter that she had run away a couple of years ago and really regretted it.
"I tell you, man, if I could do it again, I wouldn't," she said. "Life on the road is the pits."
Peter began to think about what he was doing. He explained the situation to the girl.
"Sounds like you're giving up for something you're not even sure of," she said when Peter was done talking.
Peter had to admit she was right. He hadn't even told his mother he was coming. What if she didn't want him? On the other hand, he knew he couldn't live with his dad if life was going to be like it had been lately.
His bus was announced. Peter knew he had to make a decision that would affect the rest of his life.
John felt so excited on the way to school that morning. It was his first day of high school and he was sure that this year would be special.
It wasn't that other years had been bad, but more that John was ready for a change. He had chosen to go to a different high school than the one his classmates were going to. He wanted a chance to start over - a chance to be popular. He had always been considered a "nerd" or a "brain". And because of those labels, the only friends he had were other nerds and brains. John thought it would be great to have some friends from the "cool" group.
Now he had a chance to make a fresh beginning. He was sure he would make a good impression with his new clothes and contact lenses. He was so excited about what might happen!
But he was also scared. What if the same thing happened here that had happened all of his life? What if no one liked him?
His heart beat faster as he climbed the massive gray stairs and pushed open the homeroom door. "Well, here goes," he said to himself.
There was no need to worry. By lunchtime he had been winked at twice, talked to more people than he could count, and told a girl he wasn't ready to jump into a relationship yet. What's more, he was sitting, by invitation, with the best dressed, best-looking kids in the school. Things were going well.
The next few weeks were the same. People talked to him and laughed at his jokes. Girls flirted with him constantly. His parents were surprised by the sudden change in John, and not altogether delighted. One of his teachers had phoned about John's wild classroom behavior. And John wasn't doing his homework lately.
One day, John came home from school to find a note written by his old friend, Bob. Bob wanted to get together with John that weekend, maybe go to a movie with him. John called to accept.
That Friday, his new friends also invited John to a movie. He declined, saying that he already had plans.
John had a great time with Bob on Saturday. He hadn't realized how much he truly missed Bob and being able to talk to him.
After the movie, John and Bob were sitting in McDonald's when all John's new friends came in. They were talking and laughing, and it felt strange for John to not be with them. For a moment he wished that Bob, in his plaid shirt and cords, wasn't sitting next to him.
It was a minute before John's new friends saw John. When John waved them over, they just glared at him and stared at Bob. Then they laughed and pointed at Bob.
Bob saw them too. "Do you know those turkeys?" he asked, shaking his head.
"Yes. They're my friends," John said. Then he began to wonder if that was true. How could he call them his friends if they treated him like this? Why hadn't he noticed before that they were like this? And what kind of person had he become? He felt like the last few weeks hadn't meant anything.
Ron, and Doug smiled at each other as approached the mall. They were ready for this day; they had planned it for a long time. Summer vacation had gotten kind of boring. They had gone to parties and movies, and now they wanted to do something a little exciting. Something that would get their blood rushing.
They walked into a record store and began to browse. After a moment they looked at each other and nodded. One at a time, each of them was going to pocket a tape.
They really didn't need to steal. Tony and Ron lived in big beautiful houses on the Hill, the wealthiest part of town. Doug lived in a comfortable but ordinary house in the valley. He didn't have a giant allowance like Ron and Tony and sometimes got jealous of them. Still, they probably all had enough money on them to buy any tape that they wanted. Right now, though, finding some excitement was more important than getting a new tape.
When Doug looked for Tony and Ron, he found them already waiting near the door. He looked around, not sure this was a good idea. But he didn't want to look like a jerk in front of the guys, so he picked up a tape and shoved it into his jacket. No one noticed them as they all walked casually out of the store.
"I got Elvis Costello. How about you guys?" asked Tony.
"Cyndi Lauper," said Ron.
Doug put his hand into his jacket and pulled out the tape. It was an opera tape. How embarrassing!
"Hey, this guy can really sing," he told the guys. He pointed to the tape and tried to act cool.
Ten minutes later they were heading toward the dressing room in the department store, each holding a fifty-dollar shirt. When they walked out, each had a shirt on under his jacket. They passed the perfume counter as they walked casually toward the exit. When they were almost out of the store, a loud shrill noise filled the air. Tony and Ron exchanged looks and ran out of the store. They yelled for Doug to do the same.
But Doug couldn't run. A security guard had grabbed him and was dragging him back into the store. Doug wondered why he had ever agreed to go through with this.
Tim crept slowly down the stairs, trying to avoid spots he knew would creak. He paused at the sound of a shrill squeak, then continued when he heard his father's steady breathing. Once he pulled the front door closed behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief. The cool night air hit his sweaty body. He began walking casually, but watched out for police cars. The 10 p.m. curfew was enforced in his neighborhood.
Once at the gas station, he sat down on a small patch of grass. He looked for some sign of Jennifer. He hadn't talked to her in over a week and felt lonely for her company. He respected Jennifer very much, and, after all, they were kind of "going out". But she was grounded and this was the only way they could see each other.
He stood up when he saw someone approaching and held out his arms for Jennifer's hug. But the person coming toward him was not Jennifer, it was his best friend Spider. Spider looked worried, but when he recognized Tom, his face broke into a smile. Tom realized then that Spider had probably gotten himself into another one of his stupid jams.
"Hey, man!" Spider said. "I really need your help. Got a minute? Great. Listen, the cops are after me on account of something I didn't do. Got it?"
"What do you want me to do?" asked Tom. He was tired of putting himself on the line to help Spider all the time.
"You've gotta hide me at your house, at least til tomorrow. C'mon, man, I need your help."
"I'm waiting for Jennifer," Tom told him. "We can leave when she gets here." Tom sighed heavily.
"Thanks, man, I really appreciate it." Spider smiled at him.
When Jennifer arrived about five minutes later, Tom explained the situation. Jennifer was used to Spider's problems, so she wasn't surprised. But Tom didn't expect her to react the way she did.
"Tom! Spider's got to learn to deal with his problems. When you help him out you're just helping him avoid his problems. That makes you just as bad as he is."
A siren sounded in the distance. "Tom! We'd better get moving!" Spider yelled from where he waited across the street. "I'm getting nervous!"
"Tom," Jennifer said, "you have to learn to say no to your friends when you don't agree with what they're doing. Especially when they get you involved." She was really angry. Tom wished she would lower her voice because he didn't want Spider to hear her.
"Tom!" Spider yelled as sirens wailed in the background.
Tom stared at them, wishing he could be anywhere else.
No one answered the door, so Juan let himself into Bobby's house. Bobby's mom wasn't home from her night nursing job yet. Juan yelled for Bobby as he got a can of pop from the refrigerator. When he heard the toilet flush, Juan headed up the stairs. If he and Bobby didn't get going soon, they would be late for the Rec-Center try-outs.
Juan found Bobby sitting on his bedroom floor. "You look terrible, man," he said.
"I know, I know. Don't yell," moaned Bobby. "My head hurts."
"Do you have the flu or what?" asked Juan. "We're going to be late for try-outs."
"I don't have the flu," Bobby answered.
"Well then, what's up?"
"I went to a party last night with my cousin Rick. He's the one that goes to Jefferson High," Bobby explained.
"A high school party. That's great," said Juan. "My dad would kill me if I went to a high school party!
"Yeah, I know. Geez, you can't tell my mom!" pleaded Bobby. "They were playing this dumb game with vodka. I didn't want to play, but they kept calling me 'baby' and 'wimp'. Man, I'd only had sips of beer up until now, but I wanted to be cool. And I got tired of saying 'no'. Anyway, I kept losing and they made me drink. The next thing I knew, I was throwing up. Rick got up-tight because he had to take me home. I threw up in the back entry and the hallway downstairs. I've been throwing up all night. I just want to die."
Just then Bobby's mom drove up the driveway. Juan realized that he had to go or he would be late for try-outs. Besides, he didn't want to be here when Bobby's mom came into the house.
"Oh no, my mom! You've got to cover for me, Juan," Bobby begged. "Tell her something ... like, the flu is going around at school. I can't go to try-outs like this. Tell the coach I'm sick, or that my grandma died. I feel terrible!" Bobby went running for the bathroom.
As Juan came out of Bobby's room, he ran right into Bobby's mom.
Anything else before we leave, Jeff?" his father asked.
When Jeff heard the warmth and caring in his father's voice he realized that he might miss him. Jeff shook his head and smiled at his dad.
"Remember, you're on your honor," his father reminded him. Then he hugged Jeff and walked out the door.
Jeff's parents and sister were going to visit his grandmother that weekend. For the first time ever, they were leaving Jeff all alone. He had to study for finals, so he was glad to have the chance to be alone. He planned to obey his parents' rules about having people over; he planned to have no guests.
He began to study, and for two hours he read and reread for all of his classes. After that, he began to feel restless and bored.
He picked up the phone and called his friend Greg. He didn't answer, so he called his girlfriend Katherine. He hadn't seen her in a few days. She asked if it would be all right if she and a couple of friends came over. Jeff agreed, trying to forget what his parents had said.
Katherine, Cindy and Bill arrived about fifteen minutes later. Jeff suddenly realized that their good moods had a lot to do with the amount of alcohol that they had consumed. They were drunk. And before Jeff knew what was happening, ten more kids arrived. Someone brought a keg and there was beer everywhere. Jeff was shocked. He thought Katherine never got drunk. What's more, she knew he wasn't supposed to have anyone over.
It didn't take long before the party was in full swing. Kids were everywhere, getting drunk and making a mess. Someone Jeff didn't recognize was swinging on the chandelier and a girl was getting sick on the rug. Jeff yelled at people to leave, but they ignored him.
Finally by about three o'clock everyone had left, but not because they wanted to. The neighbors had called the police, who had come to break up the party. Jeff wasn't sure if he was upset or not that the police had come. When he looked around, he knew he would have to spend the next day cleaning up the mess and not studying. He fell asleep on the couch, his head next to a half-eaten pizza.
The sound of shouting woke him up. A tall, dark-haired man with a mean look in his eyes was standing in the doorway. He began walking toward Jeff, yelling and screaming all the way. Slowly, Jeff recognized that the man was his father.
Mike smiled as he put the phone back on the hook. Harry, his best friend, was leaving his car with Mike while he was up north for the weekend. Mike would be able to use the car until he left on his own two-week vacation in California. He let out a whoop of joy.
After giving him a few words of advice, Harry put his car keys into Mike's hand and drove off in his truck. Mike stared at the keys, then eased himself into the leather seats. He turned on the radio and backed out of the driveway, letting his neighbors take a good long look.
The car, a beautiful red convertible, was Harry's pride and joy. He had saved money for two years in order to fix it up, and then had lovingly restored it himself. Now, for the first time ever, he was lending it to Mike.
Mike felt so cool driving the car. He thought of his date for that evening as he pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store where he worked. "Work now, play later," he thought. He got out of the car and shut the door, leaving the top down. As he walked into the store, he put the car keys in his pants pocket.
Five hours later, Mike returned to the parking lot hot and tired. His only thought was of a cool shower. He looked around for the car, but it was not to be found. It was nowhere in sight! Mike felt his stomach tighten as he walked back into the store. No one there knew anything about what might have happened to the car. Mike walked home, dreading Harry's reaction and angry at himself.
Mike canceled his date and called the police. He also called his friends and asked them to keep their eyes open for the car. Then he borrowed his parents' car and drove around for hours, searching. When he finally went to bed that night, he didn't know what he was going to do. Harry was coming home in a day or so. Mike wished he was in California already.
Bill! We have to go. Come on! Bill's mother called from the car. It was Wednesday, time for her women's auxiliary meeting and his confirmation class.
"I don't want to go today!" Bill called back.
"Are you sick, honey? Maybe I should stay with you," his mother said.
"No, I'm not sick," Bill answered. "I have to finish an art project by tomorrow."
"O.K. I'll tell Pastor Margaret you won't be at confirmation class. Good night."
Bill watched his mother's car pull away. He felt guilty about not going with her. He didn't have an art project to do. He hated lying, but he didn't want to be confirmed. The truth was that he really didn't want to go to confirmation classes; he was doing it only for his parents. He just didn't agree with the lessons. He didn't like it that the Bible told him that this is bad, that's good, and this is forbidden.
The same went for school. You're told you need algebra to survive as a human being. And you're told that kids are too young to understand much so they should just do as they are taught. Drinking is bad and drugs are worse. Bill was so tired of being told what to think and what to believe.
Bill thought most of his friends were like sheep. They just did what their pastor or teachers or parents told them to do. Bill didn't mind disagreeing with adults so much, but now he found that he was disagreeing with his friends, too. That was tough.
That Friday night, Bill's friend Melanie threw a party. Her parents were out of town and Melanie invited everyone. It was a big deal. Bill wasn't sure he really wanted to go, though. It had been a hard week and he just kind of wanted to be alone.
He got to the party about an hour after it started. When he walked in the front door, he was tempted to walk out again. Half the people were talking and laughing in little groups and the others were running around and jumping on furniture. Bill didn't think he was in the mood for a wild party. Still, he had told Melanie that he would come, so he felt he had to stay. When he didn't see her right away, he got a Coke and sat down on the couch.
"Excuse me," someone said to him. Bill looked toward the voice and found a pretty girl he had never seen before. "You look like you're having about as much fun as I am."
"Yeah," Bill said. "I just can't get into this."
"l have an idea," she said. "Come with me."
Out of curiosity, Bill followed her. She led him into a pink bedroom which he assumed was Melanie's. The girl reached under the bed and pulled out a box. Bill wasn't sure he wanted to be there. The girl smiled up at him. Then she offered him a joint from the box and looked for matches.
Bill held the joint in his hand, unsure that he wanted to smoke it. He hadn't tried dope before, but he was curious. Suddenly, all his recent ideas about being his own person filled his thoughts.
"What are you waiting for?" the girl asked.
"Fire it up."
Philip pulled onto the highway and was soon going sixty-nine mph. "No one goes the speed limit anymore," he said to himself. He put on his shades against the bright sunlight.
Phil had passed his driver's test just five days earlier, after years of dreaming about it. Now he was putting it to good use, driving to pick up a friend who lived about twenty miles away. Phil had his parents' car for the day.
Soon he was going almost eighty. Phil didn't think that mattered, though, since his seemed to be the only car on the road. He felt very free and happy as he sped along. Everything in the world seemed perfect right then.
The sun was still bright regardless of Phil's shades. It was difficult to see very far in front of the car, especially since Phil was going so fast. He could see an outline of an object far ahead of him, but he didn't know what it was. He continued to speed toward it.
As Phil came closer, he realized that the object was a child who was standing in the middle of the road. He knew he was about to hit it!
He slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The car skidded, then hit the child and knocked him down. It took a long time for the car to stop because it had been going so fast. When the car was finally still, Phil ran out to see if the child was all right. As he stared at the bleeding, motionless figure on the blacktop, he wanted to throw up. Instead, he reached down and felt for a heartbeat. There was none.
Phil pulled the body to the side of the road, then walked back to the car and got in. No one could know what had happened. It was too awful. He would get into too much trouble. He hadn't meant to do it. Phil looked at the small body once more before pulling away. He knew he would never tell anyone what had happened.
April 19, 1996