Maybe I neglected to mention one of the many recent additions to the house, though, I can't say how I could possibly forget.

Yes, as of August 1st, 2008, the Loser House has been the receptacle of harmonious music. Whiny, acoustic, hipster, 'original' music. Trent Dascenzo music. Yes, I said harmonious. I never said good. His voice, to me, feels like scraping pieces of charcoal together. And even I know that doesn't make a lick of sense.

I can't diss the boy though, at least he does something he enjoys. And at least his absurdly long torso, green eyes, and ebony hair attracted the attentions of Gwen, keeping her much to occupied to deal with Cody...though honestly, I don't know why I'm going down this trail. Gwen is kinda a bitch, and I doubt she would've had a second glance at Cody even if there were no Trent. She'd probably go for Duncan, if not, I dunno, DJ. Or hell, she'd probably like me before Cody. She'd sooner do Bridgette for Christ's sake.

I stop myself there, because I'm basically insulting my own taste in partners at this point.

So as I was saying, Trent is in the house. Everyone's under his spell, and that includes Cody. Which is honestly, a good thing, because constantly being tormented with that feeling of 'oh, look, he's alone, talk to him' gets annoying sometimes.

I enter the kitchen to get a morsel to eat, and am, as usual, faced with the strum of a guitar. Trent sings one of the most cliché 'hey, I can play the guitar songs ever': Brown-Eyed Girl. I stare, unimpressed. My eyes divert to Cody, who seems a little confused, which in turn, confuses me. Trent plucks the last note. One of the spectators, Beth, grins.

"Singing for Gwen, are you?"

Trent shrugs shyly

"Yeah."

When the sparse aww's die down, Cody speaks:

"Gwen's eyes are hazel"

I almost want to congratulate the boy on his mood-killing skills.

For hours more during the day, he follows Trent around, quizzing him on music, acting as though he knows what he's talking about. If he actually did know what he was talking about, he'd know you can't freaking hit a soprano C on a guitar. But nevertheless he grabs the guitar, and strums the strings, and creates a semblance of a two-note aria.

'How beautiful' I say to myself, rolling my eyes.

I occupy my time as far away from the budding musicians as I can, reading, as usual. Brave New World. I had read it for the first time when I was only about ten, and the ideas of conformity and rampant bed-jumping sex lives and pre-birth indoctrination...enough to give me nightmares. Yeah, I guess I could say I was a smart kid. Most fifth-graders are just beyond that fear of monsters under the bed phase, but still nowhere near the fear of in-vitro genetic manipulation phase.

Okay, so honestly most kids never hit such a phase.

I sit and read and yes, I'm not exactly making any Cody progress, or human progress for that matter, but hey, I'm enjoying myself. I think Cody maybe be attempting to play a song in the other room, but it's easy enough to ignore as he is not yet singing.

"Round they went in a circular procession of dancers, each with hands held..."

"ANOTHER TURNING POINT, A FORK STUCK IN THE ROAD"

"...on the hips of the dancer proceeding, round and round, shouting in..."

"IT'S NOT A QUESTION, BUT A LESSON LEARNED IN TIIIME"

"...unison, stamping to the rhythm of the music with their..."

"I HOPE YOU HAD THE TIME OF YOUR LIIFE"

"Oh for the love of Jesus!"

I pop my head around the corner, to see the boy rocking out to a poorly-covered 90's pop-punk song.

"Gee that sure is some tune you're playing, Cody" I say, voice oozing as much sarcasm as I can possibly force it to ooze. "I wonder why Trent hasn't asked you to be in his band yet. Hey, maybe I could come in too, I play a mean Clarinet"

Cody stops playing with a plunk. "Really?"

"Listen honey, exactly one statement in that little phrase was true, can you get which one?"

"Is your clarinet really...mean?"

"If mean means good, then yes."

I wasn't lying, I really am a good clarinet player. In school band, actually. I thought wearing a sweater-vest would make it obvious to everyone I was in band. Then again...look how Cody dresses...

"That's awesome. I only wish I were a band geek! I tried out but I really blew at playing Tuba"

"I don't know whether to hope that pun was unintentional or on purpose"

He smiled wide at that, and I think I may have melted just a little. He's a cutie, isn't he? I move a little closer to him, casually running my fingers along the glossy body of the guitar. I am just about to open my mouth to begin a conversation when he beats me to it:

"I better get this back to Trent. I mean, he was supposed to come back here, but knowing KatieandSadie he's probably tied up out there, or something"

My heart drops ever-so-slightly at his decision to cut it short, but I pick myself up. Not before, of course, briefly wondering if my revelation from last night made him wary of me. I knew that couldn't be, though. Not Cody, not him.

As the sun went down, the sunniness in a certain someone's personality went down, too. He began to retreat from Trent. By seven o'clock, there was no more godawful music to be heard at Playa des Losers. No matter how annoying the music had been, its absence was slightly worrying.

A kid sits alone on the patio, face showing no particular emotion. He looks out at the lake somewhat wistfully. The voice in my head that said 'look, he's alone, you should talk to him,' was for once less frantic and more gentle, nudging me onto the wooden veranda. I sit beside Cody on the plush swing-chair. I attempt conversation.

"Hi, what's going on?"

His voice sounded sullen, not painfully so, but noticeable less gleeful than his usual demeanor.

"Hi"

I frown.

"Something the matter?"

"Not really"

"Not really doesn't mean the same as no"

"Well, kinda bummed"

"How come"

He sighs. "Have you ever liked someone...adored someone, who just didn't seem to like you at all?"

I felt words formulate, but I realized my situation was not as bleak as his by far.

"Probably not" he says "but it sucks."

"Gwen?"

"Gwen. I was talking to Trent. Naturally, she came up in conversation. Jeez, Noah, he's in love with her. Completely. They might be kids but honestly, if they weren't, he'd up and marry her right now. He's crazy about her. And she's the same"

I let escape a little "Woah"

"Yeah. Exactly. I'm nothing like Trent. He's emotional, I'm obliviously cheerful. He's totally...musiciany, and I, well, you heard me. He's really hot, and I...well," He stretches his arms out, looking down at his body, as if to say 'well, just look at me'. His long, gangly arms were oddly appealing to me. I'd never say that, even to reassure him. His awkward smile and skinny frame...yes, I liked it. But I wouldn't say that.

"I don't have to wonder what she sees in him" he says "They make a perfect match."

A perfect match at being gothic jerks if you ask me, but that opinion stays within.

"I wonder who'd make a good match for me." he bites down on his thumbnail. "I don't see people just like me walking around every day"

I try to be helpful:

"You'd need someone smart, for sure. Maybe verging on geeky. Actually, full-on geeky. Seriously, just give up on dating someone cool, but don't fret, I mean, the cool scene will never amount to anything once college rolls around"

He gives a slight chuckle. "You sure you're not describing yourself there, Noah?"

"Uh, huh, no"

"I do appreciate your wit though. I'd like that in a lady."

"A true original, creative, witty, sarcastic at times, intelligent. So basically, a Gwen"

"Yeah...a Gwen."

He looks down.

"God, Cody, you're such an Eponine."

"Is...that a type of Horse?"

"No, it's from Victor Hugo's novel, Les Miserables. A crazy tale about french people killing each other and selling their teeth to feed themselves and stealing shit."

"So you're saying I've gotta speak french and steal stuff from people to get Gwen to like me? Gosh, Noah, she might be from Quebec but she's not that much of a sleeze!"

"Hey, watch it! I'm from Quebec too!"

He laughs. Happy Cody has partially returned.

"Do you wanna know why you're an Eponine?"

"Please do tell."

"Eponine is in love with Marius, this like, sexy revolution guy. But he likes Cosette, the pretty ingenue who's mom was a chlamydia-ridden whore who had to give her up to innkeepers so that she wouldn't starve. Eponine wants to impress Marius so badly, but he only has eyes for Cosette, but because Eponine really wants Marius to like her, she does favours for him like delivering the letters he writes to his dear Cosette. That doesn't work either, so 'Ponine goes right nuts and then during this big battle scene she takes a bullet for Marius, and dies. Though it's debated whether this was selfless act of 'dying so he can live' or a selfish act of 'watch me do something brave, Marius!'"

Cody makes a face.

"That's what I'm like?"

I chuckle.

"The more I think of it, the less it makes sense. I just want to sound smart"

"You always sound smart."

"Okay, so forget it, you're not an Eponine. You're just you. But you know what? After all this TV exposure, those Nova Scotia maidens will be all over you back home."

"Heh, well, I think this one girl already likes me."

"Who?" I gulp a bit.

"Beth"

Well that's not a shocker.

"Did she actually get the guts to tell you? That would be surprising. She's not exactly Mrs. Self-Confidence, unlike, say, you."

"I struck out with Gwen eighty-seven times, but I didn't give up. I tried real hard."

"But..."

"Nothin'"

"Maybe I did do an Eponine. I committed romantic suicide. I sent her Marius-letters to Trent-slash-Cassette or whatever she is. Yeah. That's love, right?"

I suddenly felt bad for the guy. I almost wish he could be with Gwen. It might leave me out cold but not everyone always ends up happy.

"If she has what she wants, then I'm okay. Maybe, I just hope maybe, if one day, she's all grown up, and her and Trent have a bunch of Twens, or Grants rather, that she tells those babies the story of Cody MacNeil" He punches a fist to his chest patriotically "...and how he brought mommy and daddy together."

Yep, this is pretty tragic.

"I hope she'll be happy"

"I hope the same to you" I say, almost not realizing I said it.

"There's someone out there...somewhere...who won't reject me eighty-seven times. Someone I will love, who loves me too"

Me, Cody!

It could be me!

Yeah I like this chapter :) It's twice as long as all the others. And I don't care if Cody's name is canonically Cody Emmett Anderson or whatever, to me, he's still Cody Shane MacNeil. Good scot NS boii. That's what he is.