Oh, I should've pointed this out in chapter one, but I kept forgetting, this story's set in England so I'll be using the English school system (which is quite a bit different from the American one, so I hear) if you want me to explain anything or feel a little confused, just say and I'll elaborate for you!

...

"See, wasn't that worth it?" Oscar smiled cheerily whilst Michael just scowled, rubbing his arm. After half an hour of struggling through mind-numbingly boring business homework, they were actually feeling pretty pleased with themselves, not that Michael would ever let Oscar know that. The pair were now walking down the school corridor, making their way to the main hall where the weekly assembly was being held for the whole school. All around them were other students of all ages, some chatting in pairs or small groups, others walking alone, almost unnoticed by their peers.

"No, you punched me, you son of a bitch!"

"Only a little punch on the arm! You were making us late," Oscar shrugged.

"I was getting breakfast, asshat!"

"Oh piss," scoffed Oscar, "breakfast is for people who do their homework."

"Bullshit," Michael rolled his eyes, "hey have you ever thought of channelling your aggression into something more productive, like boxing?"

"Have you?" Oscar raised a bushy eyebrow, "maybe now we're friends we can join a club together."

"We're not friends," spat Mike, "I'm only doing this cause, if I didn't, Al and Matt'd never shut up about it."

"Whatever you say," Oscar looked ahead and spied Sal's mop of carroty hair in front of them, just visible through the crowd.

"Salvatorio!" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth, "hey wait up!"

Their classmate turned around and grinned; "oh hey guys, pretty glad I bumped into you two, wanna get a seat together?" He smiled kindly at Michael. He and Oscar had decided to not mention the events of last night to the third boy, to spare him any distress or humiliation, but that sure as hell didn't mean Sal was gonna act indifferent to his problems. If Michael needed companionship, then Sal was going to make sure he got it.

"Whoopee," muttered Michael, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Hmm," Oscar rubbed his chin, "it's only the second time anyone's actually requested to be in my company, the other request was also made by you. Nobody's really asked me these sort of things before."

"I wonder why," growled Michael, "you're annoying as hell and punch like a professional boxer."

"I thought hitting each other lightly was something friends do," whined Oscar, "I've seen it in all the films."

"Right," Mike shook his head.

"Hey let's get seats at the back!" Salvatorio grabbed the other two by their sleeves and led them into the hall. Sitting down on plastic chairs at the back with the other year elevens, the trio lazily watched the rest of the students take their places, sometimes commenting on them. When Charlotte wandered past, closely followed by some of the boys Oscar recognised from their detention, he considered calling a greeting to her, but decided against it. His friendliness would only be met by embarrassed hissing anyway.

Eventually, everyone was seated and the head teacher walked onto the stage and spoke into a microphone, a monotonous drone drifting through the hall, sending most of the students to sleep. He gave all the usual weekly messages and Oscar began to switch off, only paying the slightest bit of attention when the head stated that there was a special announcement.

"I will now hand over to Mr Fernandez Carriedo and Miss Héderváry," the head teacher stood aside to allow the science and geography teachers to step up to the microphone.

"Well," began Miss Héderváry, "this year we want to promote charity and community, especially within the school body."

"Nowadays these qualities are severely lacking both here and in society as a whole," continued Mr Fernandez Carriedo, "and we want to do something about that. So that's why we're holding a little competition that'll go on for the whole of this school year."

"The theme is 'make a change' and open to every student in the school and sixth form," added Miss Héderváry, "the idea is to do something for charity or the community. You can raise money for a cause, or even launch a campaign to raise awareness for a subject close to your heart. The choice is really up to you."

"The winner will be decided in June and there will be plenty of amazing prizes up for grabs!"

"Does this mean we have to spend the whole year being harassed by fuck-wits with buckets wanting money, dipshits with crappy 20p cakes and have to pay to wear our own clothes in school?" Michael hissed to Oscar, who nodded exasperatedly.

"Pretty much, yes."

Michael rolled his eyes, "I swear if I see one, just one, foldable table full of undercooked salmonella blocks covered in runny icing I'm gonna slap someone."

"It's an insult to good food!" added Salvatorio, a little too loudly, as a large chunk of the hall now turned to stare at the three boys.

"I don't care if we're nearly related, Vargas," called Mr Fernandez Carriedo, "it's no excuse for disrupting the assembly."

Sal scowled, ducking behind the chair in front of him to avoid the stares of the entire school. Michael had to stifle a laugh.

"So where do you two usually eat?" asked Oscar, "personally, I'd choose a nice sunny spot on the field, as this may be the last chance to sit there this year without being ankle-deep in mud. We could lie on the grass and soak up the sun too while we're at it."

"Sounds good," Salvatorio shrugged.

"Do I have a fucking choice?" Mike trailed after them as the other two crossed the playground to the field.

"Do you have a detention?" Oscar shot back.

"Not this lunch, actually."

"Then why not enjoy some company for a change?"

"Hey Oz!" Oscar glanced behind him to find Charlie running to catch up with the group.

"Oh, hi Charlotte," Oscar smiled widely, attempting to pat his little sister's head as she passed, but she dodged his hand.

"Your shoelaces are untied," she stated, bending down to tie them.

"Err, thanks for spotting. That could've ended badly if I'd stepped on them."

"No problem," Charlie stood up straight, "now that you're in my debt…"

"I knew it," muttered Oscar, "what do you want this time?"

"Well I was thinking about that competition they mentioned in assembly…"

"I'm not running a bake sale with you."

"I know," Charlie had her hands behind her back, rocking forwards and backwards, and staring at Oscar with wide innocent eyes, "I just want to set up a website."

"And how does that involve me?"

"Allow me to explain, dear Oz. It's basically gonna be a website for the students at this school to talk about their problems and get advice," Charlie shrugged, "just somewhere to get help and let it all out, you know? I think it'll be a good idea."

"About time we had one of those," exclaimed Salvatorio, "I think it's a brilliant idea, Miss."

"Charlie, call me Charlie."

"Okay, Charlie's a really cute name and suits you so much!"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Oscar, "but how does that involve me?"

"Ah, well I need a board of- say- seven or eight students to answer questions and give advice."

"And…?"

"I'd like a wide range of students to volunteer for it, you know, people of all ages, races, genders and backgrounds," explained Charlie, "that's where you come in."

"I see," Oscar sighed, "and why should I help you?"

"Because I tied your shoelaces for you," stated Charlie, "and because you're my brother and you have to support me."

"I don't see how I have to support you in everything. If you were arrested for murder then I'd probably cut all ties."

"Oscar!"

"Fine, it doesn't sound like it'll take up too much time anyway."

"Great!"

Sal tapped Charlie on the shoulder; "would it be okay if I volunteered too?"

"Of course," Charlie grinned, "it's only me and a few members of the art club so far, so any help would be grand."

"Aww anything to help out a little cutie like you;" Sal turned to Michael, "what about you?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Hey, it's up to you," Charlie shrugged, "might be fun, right?"

"Seeing as your effort at school is somewhat… well you know," added Oscar, "the teachers might want you to make it up some other way- besides staying after school- so entering this competition might end up being compulsory for you in order to boost your qualifications or something. Well, it'll either be this or volunteer work, and I'm not sure how you feel about reading to year sevens but… Plus, it'll look good on your CV."

"That is a very good point," grumbled Michael, "I'd rather sit on my ass at a laptop than dress as a penguin or some shit and walk around with a large bucket asking for money. Or read to those little brats."

"Great," said Charlie, "well, if you're all in then we should have our first meet up tomorrow at- say- eleven? We'll all meet at the park, by the fountain."

"Sounds good," Salvatorio pushed a lock of hair out of his face, "shall we go eat then? All these good deeds are making me hungry! Care to join us, Charlie?"

"Nah, got art club," Charlie began walking back towards the school building, "see ya round!"

"That's a shame," sighed Sal, "I was hoping she'd join us."

"Why?" asked Oscar suspiciously, crossing his arms.

"Well- err- she seems nice!" reasoned Sal, "I thought she'd be interesting to talk to."

"Right," Oscar shook his head.

"So," Sal scratched the back of his head nervously, "shall we go eat?" he repeated.

"I'm afraid I can't," began Oscar, "I just remembered I… have maths homework to finish so I'll have to spend lunch in the library."

"We have maths homework?" exclaimed Sal.

"No this is… extra homework the teacher gave me, catch up work from that time I was off sick and missed a lesson or something," Oscar began backing away, "sorry, it's really important." With that, he turned around and began running towards the school building.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me, Mi-" Sal turned around to find his other friend missing, "Mike?" the boy in question was nowhere to be found and Salvatorio sighed, making his way towards the field, "just me then."

Charlie put on her headphones and turned the volume up on her iPod, well, Logan's old iPod. After picking the song she wanted, the teen sat down and started on the piece she'd been working on, a painting of a sunset over the ocean, a clash of warm and cold colours, captured by a sweeping brush. The sun was shining in through the large windows, which were open, letting in the smell of fresh grass and trees as well as a welcoming breeze. Charlie gave a little stretch and picked up her brush. No sooner had she dipped it into the cup of water provided, then a pair of hands slammed onto the table either side of her. She jumped slightly, looking up to find Michael scowling at her.

"Okay, what the hell is your brother's problem?" he snarled.

"Huh? I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You know! Seriously, what the fuck's up with him?"

"Is there a problem here?" Two boys a year or so older than Charlie stood either side of her protectively, hands on hips and glaring. Michael recognised the pair as two of the boys from the detention yesterday; the one with long blond hair whilst the other with short, chopped, red hair.

"Could you leave Charlie alone, please?" said the red-head.

"I'm just talking with her!" exclaimed Michael.

"It's fine, Lars, Franz," Charlie told the two boys.

"If you say so…" the pair cautiously made their way back to their tables, still glaring at Michael.

"Okay," growled Charlie, "what do you want?"

"I just want you to tell me what's up with Oz," Mike shrugged, "you know, why he acts like he does and why he insists on being my friend when neither of us want that."

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure either. You don't seem like someone he'd gravitate to."

"I noticed."

"Well, something about you sparked his interest, I guess. Maybe his delusions of grandeur have finally gotten the better of him and he feels like he needs to 'save' you from yourself."

"That's fucking stupid," snorted Mike.

"It is," agreed Charlie, "though it's probably also because, to put it frankly, he's lonely."

"What do you mean?"

"He has no friends his own age," Charlie explained; "I'm pretty much the closest he has to a best friend, unfortunately. Maybe he thought it was time he tried to make friends, hence you and Sal. You both seemed pretty lonely too, no offense."

"None taken," Mike shrugged, "it's kinda true though. I'm not really a people person."

"No kidding? I wouldn't have known," Charlie rolled her eyes; "oh, I should also explain he hasn't had a very good experience at school over the years."

"Meaning?"

"I'm telling you this so you'll not think as badly of him as you do, but don't go broadcasting what I'm saying to everyone. People used to take the piss out of him a lot cause he acts and speaks differently to what they consider normal. Well, it was bullying, and it was horrendous what they did. I don't want to go into details, but that's why he's so lonely, because no one talks to him without insulting him."

"I guessed as much."

"He's also a bit of a perfectionist. He likes to be the 'good' kid and not cause too much trouble for anyone. Especially our brother, Logan, cause he raised us and all. Oscar just wants to make it easier for him. He keeps bugging you because he cares, in his own funny way, about your future because, once again, he can't really see things from your point of view, but he'll get there eventually. Bear with him; he's only trying to help you."

"I see," Michael sighed, shoulders slumping. Trust that annoying kid to have a sob story. Still, he was curious about Oscar now, and the guy didn't seem so bad, just overwhelming. "I guess it wouldn't be a bad thing, having him around. Sounds like he's been through shit; guess I should cut him some slack. Cheers, Char, I appreciate the help."

"No problem," Charlie shrugged before her eyes darkened, "just don't hurt my brother. If you do, I'll stick this paintbrush so deep in your backside the person to pull it out will be crowned the next English king."

"Hey, Michael!" Oscar jogged along the corridor to catch up with the other boy. Around him, other students were making their way to the front gate. It was the end of the school day and time for everyone to begin the tiring walk home, except for a few people at after-school clubs or detentions.

"Oh, sup Oz-Oscar," Mike gave a strained smile.

"Want to walk home with Charlotte and I?" Oscar nervously fixed his hair, smiling hopefully.

"Nah, sorry mate, have to stay behind cause I didn't do my media studies homework," Mike shrugged, "maybe Monday."

"You actually took that as an option? Fair enough," said Oscar, "oh, and don't forget tomorrow, okay? It'd be a shame if anyone let Charlotte down. She isn't usually this persistent and motivated when it comes to anything that doesn't involve painting."

"Hey don't worry man, I'm not gonna forget," Michael assured him, "just please, for the love of God, don't turn up at my house at seven thirty in the morning, or any time. I'll make my own way there."

"Got it," Oscar winked and began walking away.

"Look, are you sure you're okay?" Peter looked at his brother in concern. Lars just nodded, holding his stomach, dried tears on his face.

"Are you sure you don't want someone to check it?" persisted Peter, "that kid hit you pretty hard. You might need to see a doctor."

"M'fine," growled Lars, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to hold back more tears. They were walking along the little lane where they lived, their house now in sight, "it's not as bad as it seems."

"Don't look that way," Peter frowned, "just tell a teacher. They take this stuff seriously."

"No they don't," Lars' voice was barely above a whisper, "if I tell them people have been hitting me and I tell them who done it, what are they actually going to do about it? Give some silly little punishment. Do they really think a detention and writing an apology note's really gonna stop them? They'll just do a load worse cause I told on them."

"Fine, no teachers," agreed Peter, "but our mummies would take it seriously. Mama Taika gets really angry when people mess with us or Mama Astrid."

"No, you can't tell anyone!" cried Lars, "they won't be able to help and it'll make things worse! It's bad enough you're worrying without them worrying too!"

"We have to! They'll know what to-"

"I told you we're not telling them!" Lars grabbed Peter's collar, lifting him up so he was standing on the tips of his toes, and shaking with anger, "and if you say anything to anyone I'll…" he stopped suddenly, letting go and stepping backwards, "sorry, Pete, I just… please don't say anything."

"If you insist," Peter dusted himself down, "but you're making a mistake."

"No, I'm not," Lars began walking ahead.

"You can always talk to me, you know," Peter jogged to catch up with his brother, "I'm here for you bro."

"I know," Lars sighed, "I… just can't take it. Every day, I get called names and hit by people and I want to hit them back but if I do then I'll be the one getting in trouble. I'm not subtle! I'd just get seen by a teacher if I hit someone."

"It'll get better bro," Peter put his hand on Lars' shoulder, "trust me."

"Thanks…"

"Logan? You home yet?" Oscar kicked his shoes off and wandered into the sitting room. Charlie went straight upstairs. He found his brother slumped on the sofa, head in his hands and oblivious to the world.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he walked over to Logan and sat next to him. What had happened now? Had he lost his job? Were they being evicted?

"Didn't get it," he mumbled, lifting his head up and looking at Oscar with a miserable expression, "didn't get the flaming employee of the year."

"That all-I mean, oh no," Oscar sighed; "the thing about employee of the year is that you can try again next year, you know. Clue's in the name. It's not like the opportunity will never arise again."

"Yeah, but they gave it to some idiot from New Zealand who's only been working there a few weeks. It's taken me years to get nominated and they give it so a newbie? It's just not fair. They only got nominated cause they pretend to talk to the animals like Dr Doolittle or some shit."

"Oh don't be so bitter," Oscar tutted, "so you didn't get it? Doesn't stop you from being one of the most dedicated, hard working people I know. You're an amazing zookeeper and a fantastic brother, Logie, and you don't need an award to prove it."

Logan smiled warmly, pulling his little brother into a crushing hug, "ah, thanks little man. Really appreciate it."

"Hey, no problem," Oscar poked Logan in the chest, "glad to see you smiling again." He thought for a moment. "Hey, how about we go out, all three of us? You know, for a nice family evening. It's Friday, and you have Saturday off, so we don't need to worry about getting up early tomorrow."

"Don't sound like a bad idea," Logan shrugged, "where should we go?"

"Pub?" suggested Oscar, "come on, it'll be fun."

"Great! But I'm not buying you any alcohol," Logan warned, "sixteen is too young to be getting shitfaced."

"Nothing was further from my mind," replied Oscar, looking at Logie innocently.

"Right," Logan snorted, "anyway, we could just find a little table in the corner or something and you and Char can have cranberry juice or whatever."

"And maybe a beer?" suggested Oscar, glancing at Logan hopefully.

"When you start shaving," Logan lightly slapped his brother's cheek, "seriously, you're covered in tiny, fuzzy hairs. You're like a baby duck!"

"Quack! Hey it'll grow," whined Oscar, "I'm just a late developer!"

"Of course," Logan ruffled his hair and stood up, "now, lets get all dressed up and knock 'em dead!"