YES, I finally wrote chapter 3! Hope you all like it! And I'll apologize now for any mistakes you may notice, but it's been a while since I updated this one. I don't remember some things...

I really like this story, though, so expect more updates in the near future!

Also, REVIEW, please!

The next morning, Nick, Flint, and Jeff got ready for school without a word to one another. Flint seemed to be extremely irritated with Nick, who had barely slept at all last night and kept his other two roommates up half the night with his restlessness.

Jeff had woken with a headache, but he felt like he was much better off compared to Nick, who looked completely worn down and exhausted. The brunette didn't even bother with his hair, which was a ruffled mess, and got dressed in his uniform in a sloth-like manner. Obviously, he couldn't go long without a cigarette before the withdrawal hit him hard.

Breakfast today was soggy French toast drenched in watery maple syrup and two strips of dry, overcooked bacon with orange juice on the side. Jeff yet again passed on eating, wondering if he'd every feel hungry again. He gave his food to Flint, who devoured both plates. Nick, who normally skipped out on eating anything at all in the mornings, actually polished off his own plate in a few minutes and spent the rest of breakfast resting his head on the table.

None of the other Warblers dared to wake him up when the bell rang, although Jeff couldn't be sure if it was out of fear or just plain indifference. From what Jeff had seen, most of the Warblers were pretty intimidated by Nick, except for Flint who seemed to be the only person willing to stand his ground around the brunette. But even Flint walked off without bothering to make sure Nick was awake.

Jeff hesitated as the room cleared, contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to wake up his roommate. In the end, his good conscious won over and he nudged Nick's shoulder. "The bell rang," he said. "Class will be starting soon."

Nick groaned, rubbed his eyes, and lifted his head from the table groggily. "Ugh, just kill me now…" he muttered as he stood up.

"I see what you mean when you said withdrawal is hell," Jeff commented without thinking. He clenched his jaw and mentally cursed himself for it.

To his surprise, Nick laughed. It was a vague, raspy laugh, but it was a laugh all the same. "The first few days are always the worst," he mumbled. "I'm a fucking nicotine addict."

Jeff was surprised to hear Nick admit this. He'd had this impression that he smoked for the image of it. "Have you ever tried quitting before?"

"No," Nick answered simply. "Quitting isn't worth it."

"But the symptoms go away eventually…"

Nick scoffed. "You really don't understand anything, pretty boy."

Jeff frowned resentfully but didn't argue. In some respects, Nick was right. Jeff had never been addicted to any drugs. He didn't know what it was like to go through withdrawal.

"Don't do drugs, blondie, if you don't want to end up like me," Nick said casually. "And trust me—you don't want to be like me."

Jeff had a feeling they weren't talking about nicotine anymore. "Oh, don't worry," Jeff said dismissively. "I'm too much of a 'fag' to try anything like that."

Nick smiled vaguely. "Maybe that's a good thing."

Jeff thought it strange that Nick was being so uncharacteristically friendly towards him right now. Just last night, he'd been at Jeff's throat—literally. Why was he suddenly all buddy-buddy with him? Not that Jeff was complaining. "Outside of here, yes, it's a good thing," Jeff mumbled.

"Ah, but in here, you have a bunch of delinquents who will probably get sent back to prison a year after their released because we stupidly got ourselves involved in drugs," Nick said. "You actually have a chance out there when you get out, Griffin."

The sentiment was nice, but Jeff found himself frowning. Nick seemed to think he himself was nothing but a lost cause. "You know, you have potential, too," Jeff tried to assure. "You're not hopeless."

"Yes, I am," Nick said. "I've made more mistakes in my life than you can even begin to imagine. But that's not really any of your business, anyways." They were nearing the classroom. "So, now, blondie, I'm going to forget we ever had this conversation, and you're going to keep your trap shut about it if you know what's good for you. Got it?"

He said it so casually that he may as well have been discussing what was for lunch. But Jeff knew the threat was real. "I won't say a word to anyone," Jeff promised.

"Good."

Jeff was left to think about their little chat during class while Nick slept the period away with his head on his desk.

Maybe Nick really wasn't such a bad person. It may be a stretch to say he'd simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time like Jeff to get sent here, but he obviously recognized his mistakes.

All he had to do now was learn from those mistakes and get passed them. Probably easier said than done…

During 4th period Government, Jeff was called down to the main office by Principal Darke.

He felt slightly anxious as he made his way to the office, even though he couldn't recall doing anything wrong.

Inside, he was greeted by Principal Darke. "Good afternoon, Jeff," he said pleasantly.

"Hello," Jeff greeted. "…sir. You called me here for something?"

"Yes," he answered. "Your brother, Jared, is on the phone. He wants to talk with you." He stood and led Jeff to the back office area to the telephone. "I normally don't allow this kind of thing, but I'll make an exception this time since you're new here. Make sure he knows visiting and calling hours are every weekend, and he should refrain from calling during the week."

"Yes, sir," Jeff agreed. He could only assume that Jared had only just now learned about Jeff's…incarceration, so this phone call probably wouldn't be a fun one.

"I'll leave you alone to talk." With that, Principal Darke left the room, closing the door behind him.

Jeff picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. "Hello, Jared?"

"Jeff?" Jared greeted on the other line, his voice a mix of relief and stress. "Mom just called me. What happened?"

Jeff laughed bitterly. "What, mom didn't tell you?"

"She said you robbed a gas station."

"Yep. And according to the police, I almost got away with four hundred dollars, I think," Jeff said sarcastically.

"Why? What in the world would possess you to do something like that, Jeff? That just doesn't sound like you," Jared said, sounding baffled. "I thought mom was trying to play some horrible joke on me when she told me!"

"I didn't do it, Jared," Jeff said seriously.

The other line was silent for a moment. "What?"

"I didn't do it," Jeff repeated. "I swear. No one believes me, of course, but you said so yourself—that doesn't sound like me. I would never rob a gas station at gun point."

"Jeff, they told me the details," Jared said slowly. "You were caught in your car with the money and the gun."

"Are you asking me to explain myself?" Jeff asked, feeling a pit of anger and despair rising in his chest. "I can't say I didn't see it coming. Everyone thinks I did it. I wouldn't be in here if people did believe me…"

"I'm sorry, Jeff," Jared said. "I just…it sounds so incriminating. How can I not think…" he trailed away. "Tell me your side of the story."

Jeff sighed. If Jared was like every other person he'd 'told his side of the story' to, he still wouldn't believe him. But even for the slightest chance that Jared would believe him, Jeff complied. "Mom called me and told me I had to run to the store to get milk. You know the store next to the gas station? That's where I went," he began. "I parked in the back of the parking lot and got out of my car. I didn't even get half way down the parking lot though before I realized I left my wallet at home. So I went back. I got in the car, closed the door, and I was about to drive away when I noticed something sitting in the passenger seat. I think you can guess what it was…"

"The money and the gun," Jared stated. "But how in the world would it have gotten there?"

"I don't know. The door wasn't locked. Maybe the actual robber stowed it away in my car while they ran away? Maybe he figured he wouldn't get away with it? The cops were surrounding my car within seconds."

"Your fingerprints were found on the gun, though?" Jared pointed out.

"Yeah. I was stupid and picked it up when I noticed it sitting next to me. I didn't even imagine it was a real weapon, for some reason. Until then, I'd never even seen a real gun before. Where the hell do you think I'd get such a thing?"

Jared seemed to consider this. "Did they get anything on surveillance?"

"From the gas station," Jeff confirmed, "of the guy robbing the place. Then there's some video of him running from the parking lot towards the store next to the gas station. But the surveillance cameras around the store parking lot didn't reach far back enough in the parking lot to catch much footage of the guy or where he went. But, apparently, we were wearing similar clothing…" His voice broke. "You have no idea how many times I've wished I never left the house that day, Jared. If only I'd—I don't know, missed mom's call, or maybe if I'd waited a little while before going out to the store, or if I noticed I didn't have my wallet before I got to the store, then I wouldn't be here at all." He paused to control himself. He avoided crying this long, he couldn't break down now. "Everyone thinks I did it, Jared. Even mom and dad. You didn't see the shame and disappointment on their faces…If you don't believe me, then…then…" He couldn't complete the sentence. He didn't know what; he just knew he couldn't handle it if his only brother didn't believe him.

"I do believe you," Jared said quickly. "I knew you wouldn't do something like that. I can't believe mom and dad do…"

"Well, you know them," Jeff said, smothering his relief at the fact that Jared believed he was innocent. "They never were around much."

"That's true," Jared mumbled. "Listen, I'm going to fly down there to see if there's anything I can do to help. Maybe I can talk to mom and dad, too."

"Alright," Jeff said. "But I won't be holding my breath. My only chance out of here is to serve my time… I can get out half a year early with good behavior."

"I still have to try…"

"Well, don't miss too much school for my sake," Jeff said. Jared was studying psychology out of state in some high-class college on a pretty decent scholarship. "Oh, and by the way, the principal here wants you to know that visiting and calling hours are over the weekends. I'll have more time to talk to you, then."

"Principal?"

"Yeah. He's not bad. This whole place is more like a fancy boarding school than a correctional facility," Jeff told him. "But I should go. I've probably missed the whole rest of my last class…"

"I'll try to visit in person this weekend," Jared told him. "I'm flying out tomorrow."

"Then I'll hopefully see you this weekend," Jeff said. "Bye."

"Bye. I love you, bro."

Jeff smiled faintly. "I love you, too, bro."

With that, he hung up. He heaved a sigh as he turned for the door, but something on the desk caught his eye.

A box of cigarettes. The same kind Flint always had. Jeff could only assume this was one of the confiscated packs. He hesitated.

Should he pocket it? Nick was going through some horrible withdrawal symptoms, but wasn't it better for him to stop smoking? Then again, Jeff recalled, Flint said his brother was just going to smuggle more in, which would make a week without cigarettes pointless for Nick to go through.

Jeff made up his mind. Discreetly, he stooped behind the desk and pulled open one of the drawers. As he expected, stashed inside were confiscated items, from packs of cigarettes to lighters or sharp objects of sorts that may or may not be used as weapons. Jeff stowed two packs in his blazer pockets and pocketed a lighter as well before casually leaving the office.

…

Jeff saw Nick again in their dorm that evening. He'd skipped the rec hall after classes and was now lying on his bunk with his pillow over his face.

"Hey, Nick," Jeff greeted.

"Leave me alone," he muttered, his voice muffled through the pillow. "I have a killer migraine…"

Jeff said nothing and slipped one of the cigarette boxes into Nick's limp hand. He shoved the pillow from his face and looked at it idly before bolting upright. "Holy shit, where'd you get this?" he demanded. He didn't hesitate in ripping the box open. "Did you get a lighter?"

Jeff fished the lighter from his pocket and held it out for Nick. He wasn't exactly happy to be doing this, but he didn't exactly think it was too fair for anyone to expect Nick to quit cold-turkey.

"Yes!" Nick exclaimed joyfully, snatching the lighter from Jeff. "I love you!"

Jeff chuckled softly. "I stole them from Darke's office…and you're welcome."

"No way," Nick said disbelievingly as he lit one up. "You?"

"He left me alone in his office for a little while," Jeff said. "I noticed those in his desk. I only snatched two boxes, though, so you need to make them last until this weekend…"

Nick took a long drag on his now-lit cigarette, a look of bliss on his face. He didn't speak until he breathed out the smoke from his mouth and nose. "I didn't think you had it in you, blondie," he said. "Kudos to you for proving me wrong."

"I figure you can quit when you want to or need to…" Jeff said carefully. "And not cold turkey."

"That'll be the day," Nick mumbled, and he puffed on the roll-up again. "My headache is already almost gone."

"Don't you plan to quit? Eventually?" Jeff asked.

Nick didn't reply for a long minute, focusing only on his cigarette. He exhaled some excess smoke before speaking. "Maybe," he said. "It depends on a lot of things, though."

"Well…you said something about making mistakes," Jeff recalled. "Getting clean can be a great step at righting some of them…"

"I thought you said you weren't going to say anything about that to anyone?" Nick said.

Jeff blinked. "I haven't."

"Well, I'm someone. So I think I count as anyone…"

"Are you joking?"

"Nope," Nick said. "So subject dropped. Unless I bring it up, I refuse to discuss it."

Jeff sighed. "Fine," he said. He found it was actually quite easy to talk to Nick when they were alone together. Nick wasn't trying to show off as the big bad boy he was expected to be when no one else was around. Nick really wasn't as bad as he seemed.

"Anyways, thanks for the cigs, pretty boy," Nick went on casually. "You're pretty cool after all. I owe you one."

"Why not start by not calling me 'pretty boy'?" Jeff suggested.

Nick seemed to consider this. "Well… maybe. But I can't make any promises," he concluded. He laid back against his pillow and gazed at the ceiling. "You are pretty…"