"Uh, no, sir. "

Nita's father stared at his hands for a moment. "What should we do, then? I really can't afford to start you in karate lessons again—" "Jujitsu. "

"Whatever. Nita, what is it? Why does this keep happening? Why don't you hit them back?"

"I used to! Do you think it made a difference? Joanne would just get more kids to help. " Her father stared at her, and Nita flushed hot at the stern look on his face. "I'm sorry, Daddy, I didn't mean to yell at you. But fighting back just gets them madder, it doesn't help. " "It might help keep you from getting mangled every week, if you'd just keep trying!" her father said angrily. "I hate to admit it, but I'd love to see you wipe the ground up with that loudmouth rich kid. "

So would I, Nita thought. That's the problem, She swallowed, feeling guilty over how much she wanted to get back at Joanne somehow. "Dad, Joanne and her bunch just don't like me. I don't do the things they do, or play the games they play, or like the things they like — and I don't want to. So they don't like me. That's all. "

Her father looked at her and shook his head sadly. "I just don't want to see you hurt. Kidling, I don't know… if you could just be a little more like them, if you could try to…. " He trailed off, running one hand through his silver hair. "What am I saying?" he muttered. "Look. If there's anything I can do to help, will you tell me?"

"Yessir. "

"Okay. If you feel better tomorrow, would you rake up the backyard a little? I want to go over the lawn around the rowan tree with the aerator, maybe put down some seed. "

"Sure. I'll be okay, Dad. They didn't break anything. "

"My girl. " He got up. "Don't read so much it hurts your eyes, now. "

"I won't, " Nita said. Her father strode out the door, forgetting to close it behind himself as usual. She ate her supper slowly, for it hurt to chew, and she tried to think about something besides Joanne or that book.