Dave Casler
PO Box 98
Ridgway, Colorado 81432
Young Adult Novels by Dave Casler...
I've been told by publisher after publisher that there's no market for Young Adult novels. I think they're wrong! So I'm putting my novels on-line for you. Forget the publisher! Read to your heart's content--it's free! And, I'd like to hear from you, too! Contact Page.
You're reading About Dan. Be sure to check out About Phillip here.
Dan is a normal kid who loves his soccer. Except everything goes wrong. Everything.
About Series Home
About the About Series
Index to All Chapters
Here are all the chapters, disguised as asterisks. Hover your mouse over an asterisk to see the title of the chapter. Click on the asterisk to go straight to that chapter.
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(About Dan Home) (Last) (Next)
To Chemistry
Peter and Dan joined the throngs leaving the cafeteria and angled toward the chemistry lab.
"So what's with Cheryl," asked Peter.
"Oh, she let her hair down a bit."
"Like what?"
Dan thought a moment. "Life."
Peter merely grunted.
"Why are you asking?" inquired Dan.
"Oh, I thought maybe you were looking for a Lisa replacement."
"Peter!"
"You were so earnest. And you jilted me for her."
"Peter!"
"So why not?"
"Peter!"
"Well, you do dance well together," he said slyly.
"Peter! If I asked her to do anything with me, she'd view it as a sad sort of public service," protested Dan.
"So how's she ever going to get a date if she thinks everyone is doing a public service?" retorted Peter.
Point. "What's room 513? I didn't know there was a 513," asked Dan.
"Oh, that's a big room way over on the other side of the gym where the handicapped kids spend their day. You know, all those kids you used to ride the bus with."
"Oh."
Peter officiously held the chem lab door open so Dan could hobble through. Dan leaned his cane against the lab bench; it fell to the floor with a loud clang. Peter bent to retrieve it and handed it back.
"You really should be more careful, my dear Dan. You know, you already owe me about five thousand pick ups. By the way, how's your chemistry paper coming?"
"I've barely begun," Dan confided.
"Dan! It's due in two and a half weeks, right?"
"Don't remind me." He pulled his lab notes out of his backpack.
"Perhaps if I were to carry your broken body to your computer and set your dying fingers on the keyboard. Maybe I can help you turn pages."
"Peter!"
"Or, I could kick your butt. Your choice."
"Peter!" yelled Dan. Dr. Jensen looked at them sharply.