I hate being sick. Seriously, I'm wearing sweatpants and it's ninety degrees outside.

I don't own Holes.

"Come on, man. It'll be fun," Joshua had said, slightly pulling on Derrick's arm. Derrick had shaken his head.

"I don't want to rob a house."

It was a simple phrase, and one easy to understand, but Joshua had ignored it in stride. "Why not?"

"Well," Derrick had said, "I don't want to get caught and get in trouble."

Joshua had laughed. "You bully people all the time at school. How is getting caught for that different than getting caught for breaking into a house?"

Derrick remembered that he had just looked at him. "If I get caught for breaking into a house it's a lot more punishable than bullying. No one cares about high school bullies. They're expected."

"But we won't get caught," Joshua had said, his voice soft, like a caress around the few words. He had spoken like it was a given, like it was obvious.

"I'm not going."

"I can't believe that you got me to go," Derrick had said, hugging his torso as Joshua worked on picking the lock of the front door of the house.

"Believe it," he had said. There had been a small click as the door opened, and they had creeped inside.

"Jackpot," Joshua had hissed, coming across something he no doubt thought was valuable.

"STOP! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP! YOU ARE SURROUNDED!"

Derrick had groaned. This had been exactly why he hadn't wanted to come. He may not have acted like it, but he did care about what happened to his future and what he was going to do. He didn't want it ruined by some stupid thing like this.

"No, no, officers," Joshua whimpered, "Derrick was the one that wanted to rob the house. I think he was worried that he was running out of money from the other jobs."

Derrick whipped around, not paying any more attention to the officer that was questioning him.

Two of the policemen looked at each other. "What other jobs?" one of them asked.

"Oh, um, oops?" Joshua said innocently, covering his mouth in fake surprise. "I didn't mean to say that. Please ignore it."

"We can't do that," the policeman said. The officer behind Derrick started cuffing him and reading him his Miranda rights.

"You disgust me," the judge said. "You're from a wealthy, loving family and you still need to rob for happiness?"

"It wasn't me. Joshua wanted to do it. I just wanted to go home, not steal anything—"

But no one listened. Not the judge, not his parents, not any of his other friends. And then he had found his way to camp.

"Turns out it was one of Clyde Livingston's summer homes, and there wasn't anything valuable there, so there wasn't very tight security," Derrick explained to Magnet and Armpit, the only two that were listening.

"Sucks for you, dude," Magnet said, slapping him on the shoulder.

Mr. Pendanski walked into the mess hall. He walked at a pace that suggested that he was trying to be casual and intimidating, but he really just wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere that most likely didn't involve babysitting them.

"You will not have to dig any holes today," he said.

Derrick was stunned. What was different about today that meant that they didn't have to dig?

Everyone started talking at once.

"Why don't we—"

"What—"

"Mom! No—"

Mr. Pendanski raised his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly. "You will not have to dig any holes today, but you are to stay here. If you talk, you will be severely punished." He didn't elaborate any further than that, choosing instead to leave the mess hall and go back to where the action was.

Whispers broke out across the hall. No one seemed to think that Mr. Pendanski's threat was legitimate.

"What do you think happened?" Magnet asked.

Squid snorted. "They probably found the buried treasure we're all looking for. They don't see a reason—besides the 'building character' bit—to make us keep digging."

Derrick just sat there speculatively. He had only been there for a week and a half, but he knew that this wasn't normal. Every day was monotonous, the same. Something like this was a delicacy.

They waited. And they waited. And nothing happened. No one came in to tell them what was happening, no one came to tell them what they were supposed to do. Nothing.

"I'm going out there," Armpit said.

"I'll go with," Squid added.

They left. And ran back in.

"It's Caveman and Zero!" Squid yelled. "They're alive!"

Well, that certainly made everyone pay attention. Most of the camp knew who the Caveman was—for some reason that Derrick didn't know—and a lot were enlightened to the fact that Zero was the one that had knocked Pendanski out with a shovel.

Derrick himself didn't know what to think. The day before, Stanley's attorney had come to pick him up, no doubt believing that he was innocent now after he had given Stanley an alibi, but she had left because Stanley wasn't there. Now that he was back, he wouldn't be sticking around long, and that made Derrick happy, or maybe confused? He didn't really want to see Stanley. Maybe he could just hide in the mess hall.

"Come on, Derrick!" X-Ray said, pulling him up and out of the room. Derrick didn't help him along, but didn't sit down and wait to be dragged, either.

And of course, there he was. He wore the same orange outfit that everyone else wore, though his was a lot dirtier. He stood next to a young, short boy that Derrick guessed was Zero—he was also very soiled.

But the most prominent thing about Stanley that Derrick noticed was his weight. He was skinny. Well, a lot skinnier than he had been back at school. It probably just went to show you—digging holes and running away into the desert was one of the most effective weight loss methods ever.

Derrick hung back as the other D Tent boys hugged Stanley and Zero. Even Twitch hugged them, and he hadn't even known Zero.

Zigzag caught site of Derrick. "Come here, boy," he said, dragging Derrick to the front of the crowd. "Come say hey to Caveman and Zero."

"This is Derrick. We haven't come up with a name for him yet," X-Ray said, introducing Derrick to them. Derrick didn't say anything, choosing instead to just look at his feet.

Stanley didn't say anything either. He just put his treasure chest in the back of his attorney's car and ignored the Warden, who Derrick had learned was a woman. He also had learned that Stanley and the Warden were practically on a first-name basis, considering all the times they had talked compared to the rest of the campers.

And then something really strange happened.

There was a clap of thunder and a brief flash of lightning and it started raining. Or, to be more precise, pouring.

Derrick was stunned. Not once, in his two weeks of being there, had it ever shown the chance of maybe raining. And now it was looking like it was going to fill the lake again.

Derrick and all the other boys, including stanley and Zero, ran out from under the overhang and started playing in the rain. It was a nice change from the sweltering heat and bright sun—something that they could get used to.

He vaguely noticed that the attorney general was reading the Miranda rights to Mr. Sir and the Warden. He also vaguely noticed that Stanley was jumping off by himself. He made his way over to him.

Derrick walked up next to Stanley, who stopped jumping.

"I'm sorry," Derrick said, giving no preamble or warning.

"It's okay," Stanley said.

There was a slightly awkward silence.

"So…Camp Green Lake, huh? What'd you do?" Stanley asked.

"Broke into a house."

Stanley nodded. "Nice."

Derrick noticed that Stanley reeked of something.

"What have you been eating? You smell really bad."

"Onions."

"Onions?"

"Onions."

"Where did you find onions in the desert?"

Stanley grinned. "At the top of God's Thumb."

Later that year, Derrick worked his time off in community service and counseling. He did end up going back to school, but he didn't see Stanley there. He later learned that Stanley and Zero (real name: Hector. Who knew?) had moved and bought twin mansions right next to each other. Derrick figured that the money had come from the treasure chest, since Stanley definitely wasn't rich before.

Derrick's school life improved a lot as he made new friends and dropped bullying. He didn't talk to Joshua at all—and Joshua returned the favor.

There was one thing that kept him thinking of Camp Green Lake. As everyone was boarding the busses to be shipped somewhere else so they could fulfill their sentences, X-Ray had given him a nickname.

Derrick Dunne had been christened Ducky—interchangeable with other terms of endearment—referring to the fact that he was new enough to be considered cute, and therefore needed babying. Derrick was slightly happy that he would most likely not see these guys again, since he didn't necessarily like his nickname, just the fact that he was included enough to be named.

I didn't know what to call Derrick...but I figured that he was the newbie, the one that got there only to leave again.

Review?

Rynni