"Hey," Duckie greets as he sits down a little while down the table from where I sit with Taylor.

"Hi," I reply with a slight smile. Taylor offers up a small wave as well, which Duckie returns. Instantly, he pulls out his Geometry text book.

"Grody," I comment. "Why are you math-ing?"

"Because we have a test," he reminds me, a slightly pained expression on his face as he continues to pour over the book.

I frown. Based on what I've heard, Duckie never cared about doing well in the past. Teachers have made comments on his old work ethic before, and it sounds nothing like what I see.

"Right." I shake my head slightly and continue eating the greasy spaghetti (or at least I think it's spaghetti) the lunch lady served me. Another boy comes up and joins us.

"Hey," he says to Duckie, who smiles back briefly. He looks at me. "I'm Chris."

"Arial," I reply, smiling at him.

"Nice to meet you," he says, smiling back. He looks at Duckie. "Is Andie supposed to come home this weekend?"

Duckie's face falls noticeably, though it's still directed down at the textbook. "No," he says. "She can't make it."

"Who's Andie?" I ask.

"My best friend," Duckie answers, looking up at me. "She's in college now."

"And she was here with you last year?" I clarify. He nods.

"Yeah." He turned his eyes back down to the book. "I miss her."

"Aw." Taylor and I share somewhat of a sad glance.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I'm home," Duckie calls as he steps into his house. As per usual, there is no reply. There never is when he arrives home after school.

"Please, no pictures," he says sarcastically as he slings his bag down to the ground. Five steps later, he's in the kitchen. A step later, he's at the fridge.

With a heavy sigh, Duckie realizes there's no food in the fridge. Why is he so surprised? They never have any food. Just booze hidden around the house.

He shuts the fridge and turns for the living room where his bag still sat. The homework in it wouldn't finish itself. He sighs and drags his bag to his bedroom.

In the back of Duckie's mind, a litte voice tells him to call Andie. She could definitely help him with it. But she was, of course, in college. He knows he can't just ride his bike to the Walsh house and prance around her bedroom any more.

He frowns a little. He hasn't seen Andie in three weeks now. He misses her so much. But she was busy with Blane. Duckie frowns even more. That name still makes him mad. Who would ever name their kid Blane?

Duckie looks at the History book in his lap. The second he sees "Civil War" he's bored. He groans and covers his face with his hands.

He has to stay in school in order to get a good job. His mother barely makes enough money to support them as it is. Anything he can help with, he jumps on it. Even if it means trying in school to please his mom.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I roll over on Taylor's bed as I take a big bite of RedVine. "I just don't see how you're having so much trouble with this."

"Because science is a bitch," is my friend's reply. I laugh and strain my neck a bit to see her work.

"Freckles are a dominant trait," I inform her, taking another RedVine-y chomp.

"Ooofff course they are," Taylor sighs, flipping her pencil over to erase her answer. "Would that mean the kid has a hundred percent chance of being freckled?"

"No," I say. She groans. "See, the dad is heterozygous, so he has big-f little-f. The mom is recessive, so she has both little-f. So that means that in the right column, there's little-f little-f both times, so the kid has a fifty-fifty shot at freckles."

Taylor turns slowly to stare at me. I blink.

"Give it here." I hold out my hands.

"Yippie!" She slaps the textbook into my hands. "I owe you, Air."

"Yeah ya do," I grumble, though I honestly don't mind. I love science.

"So," Taylor says as I work, "I saw you talking to that tall, redhead guy earlier."

"David?" I ask.

"I don't know. I wasn't the one talking to him."

"Touche."

"Isn't he a richie?"

I look up at her. "A whatie?"

"A richie. Did you guys not have richies in the arctic?"

"Oh shush. My old home is a state away."

"Sure, sure."

"Anyway," I continue, "a richie?"

"Someone with a lot of money," Taylor clarifies. "His family is really rich."

"Ohhh. Now the name makes sense. But I don't know if David's a richie. I didn't ask."

"Why were you two talking, then?" she asks.

"Gosh, Mom, ease up. It's not like I'm pregnant. Yet."

Taylor laughs and I go on. "He just wanted to welcome me to the school, I guess."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because he said 'Welcome to our school.'"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess that's kinda a giveaway..."

I laugh and tap my pencil. "What about that Chris guy?"

"Chris Craddick?" she asks.

"The one that sat with us at lunch."

"Oh, yeah, that's Chris Craddick. What about him?"

"He was cute." I shrug. "He got a girlfriend?"

"I don't know," she says, "I've never really talked to him. But you know what?"

"Hm?" I look at her.

"I know something that will solve all our problems."

"Do tell."

"Finish. My. Homework."