The Impossibles were cruising back into Megatropolis after another whirlwind tour of playing sold out concerts and collaring crooks.
"I think it's time we put in for a vacation," Coiley said.
"You said it," Fluey replied. "Man, am I wiped. These long winded tours are the pits."
"Well, since we've already checked in at HQ, let's go do something fun," Multi suggested, tuning his guitar, and accidentally breaking the string he was tuning. "Hmm. Looks like I tuned it a little too much."
"Head for the mall, Coiley," Fluey said. "We can pick up some guitar strings there."
"Right," Coiley said. "We used up all the extras already!"
Multi's puppy, Skittles, barked as Coiley landed the Impossi-Jet, and converted to Impossi-Mobile. Skittles loved it when the car was in mobile mode. She loved hanging out of the side with her ears and tongue flapping in the wind. She didn't particularly care for doing that when the car was in jet mode. When the boys arrived at the mall, Skittles began whining as the boys got out.
"Sorry, girl," Multi said, scratching his pup behind the ears. "But you know dogs aren't allowed inside the mall."
Skittles whined a little, and sat down. It was about all she could do.
The boys walked inside the mall, and saw a group of teenagers standing around. It was obvious they were skipping school. Among the group was Jamie Phelps. Immediately, Fluey grimaced.
"Oh brother," he groaned.
"What's wrong?" Coiley asked.
"Jamie Phelps at ten o' clock high," Fluey said.
"Oh no," Multi sighed. "You know what's coming if he sees us."
"Yeah, snide comments," Coiley said, rolling his eyes.
"Come on, let's just get those guitar strings, and split," Fluey said. "I don't want to deal with Jamie today."
Unfortunately, the boys weren't going to get off the hook. Jamie saw them, picked up his backpack, and walked over to them.
"Well, well, well," he said. "If it isn't the Impossibles. Nice of you to grace the ol' hometown with your presence."
"Give it a rest, Jamie," Fluey said.
"What are you doing here, anyway, Jamie?" Coiley asked. "It's Monday, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it's Monday," Jamie said. "I'm surprised you guys can keep the days of the week straight."
"So I take it you're skipping school," Multi commented.
"We have a winner!" Jamie shouted. "Good guess, Multi. I guess there is a brain under that mop of yours after all."
Multi said nothing. Jamie's hair was longer than his, so he was a fine one to talk, but Multi wasn't going to stoop to his level.
"So what are you guys doing here?" Jamie asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
"Picking up some guitar strings," Fluey said, taking a couple of steps away from Jamie. He couldn't stand the smell of cigarette smoke. Multi and Coiley backed away as well.
"Does my smoking bother you?" Jamie asked, knowing darn well it did.
"Don't you know smoking's hazardous to your health, Jamie?" Coiley asked.
"So what?" Jamie shrugged. "It gives me something to do. Life in this town is drag city, man! You three have it easy. You're famous, you've got a cool car, you get to travel the globe, and you don't have to go to school!"
"Trust me, Jamie, you wouldn't want our life," Multi said. "It's not as fantastic and glamorous as you may think. We get mobbed by teenage girls frequently, we hardly ever get to see our families, we're almost always up against life or death situations, and we're always on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, even if we are on vacation."
"That, and we were kicked out of school for blowing up the chemistry lab which gave us our powers in the first place," Fluey pointed out.
"Eh, so what?" Jamie said. "You guys still don't have to deal with dumb stuff like I do. Stuck in the same old routine day in and day out. Having to go to school, baby-sitting twerpy siblings, and having your parents breathe down your neck! Let me tell you, Fluey, you're lucky you never had to put up with all that parental crud like the rest of us! Orphans like you have it made!"
Fluey was seeing red by this point. Jamie had just stepped over that fine line. Coiley and Multi knew it, and they managed to stop Fluey before he clobbered Jamie. Before anything else could happen, the boys were approached by a man who appeared to be in his mid twenties, carrying a stack of flyers.
"Good morning, boys," he said. "Any reason you're here instead of school?"
"Long story with the three of us," Multi said, eyeing this guy suspiciously.
"Who needs school?" Jamie replied, lighting his cigarette. "It's such a drag! Let me tell you something, my life is such a bore!"
"Feeling troubled, are we?" the man asked, and he handed one of his flyers to the boys. "I represent an organization called the Lost Boys."
Coiley took the flyer, and he, Multi, and Fluey looked at it:
Feeling Troubled? Need Someone to Talk To? On the Run with Nowhere to Go? We Can Help! The Lost Boys is a non-profit organization that gives troubled teen boys a chance to start over. We offer food, shelter, and counseling for those who feel lost.
"If you boys are having trouble in your lives, feel free to visit our facility," the man said.
"Yeah, right, sure," Fluey said, rolling his eyes. "Come on, fellas, let's split. We've got guitar strings to pick up."
"Right," Coiley said, folding up the flyer and sticking it in his pocket. He, and Multi and Fluey, were suspicious about this organization, so he figured he'd hold onto the flyer, for future reference.
"See you around, Jamie," Multi said.
"Whatever," Jamie said, waving the Impossibles off. The man smiled, and handed Jamie a flyer.
"You sound like you could use a change of pace," he said. "You do yourself a favor and think about this."
Jamie took the flyer and looked at it. Then he shrugged and walked off.