I could still hear my oaf of a friend wailing when I bolted out of the Bookroom. It was horrendous. Sometimes I wonder why I'm even friends with him...maybe I kinda feel sorry for him, or at least I did after that shenanigan.

Anyways, I got in line in the other room to check out my book. I made sure to securely hold onto it so as to not drop it onto my unsuspecting foot like the injured klutz in the other room had done. Whilst standing in line, people continued to make fun of my poor dork of a bud. I wanted to stand up for him, but it was my first day of high school and the last thing that I needed was to hinder my reputation by appearing to be a moron, for merely standing up for a moron. That's just how high school works, unfortunately.

Once my weighty tome was scanned and marked into the system, I departed the room. From a ways down the hall I saw Rowley hopping on one foot while holding onto Mr. P for support. I felt bad for both men. I assumed that they were headed off to the office to see the nurse, since we apparently had one.

Meanwhile, I had a class to attend, second to last, thankfully. When I got back to the room, only half the students had bothered to show up, and for rational reason. Who knew when the teacher would be back, with the sudden injury he was faced with and all.

I sat down and rested my head in my hand. At this point I realized that my best friend would probably be dead by the end of the first term.

…

I was on the brink of snoozing when Mr. P returned. He was gone for a half hour. We only had ten minutes left at this point. Mr Pillup looked flustered and somewhat uneasy, for obvious reasons.

He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged before us. "Well, I suppose you guys can have the last ten minutes to yourselves. No point in starting anything, really…" He then smoothed his hair back and sat down in his special teacher chair at his desk.

I decided to go up front and ask him how Rowley was doing. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, how was Rowley when you left him?"

He sighed. "He's okay, but he may have a few broken toes, unfortunately. I don't think he'll be attending school tomorow."

Dang. "So, do you think that I should just share my book with him then? I'm not sure that him getting his own to lug around is exactly the safest idea." I felt funny about saying that, but it was the hard truth. Rowley was flimsy as a piece of thread.

Mr. P had a solution of his own, however. "Actually, for the time being I am going to just have him use the online textbook. You know, just for...precaution."

I nodded completely understanding. Last thing we needed was Rowley breaking more toes with his ridiculously lethargic habits. I found it necessary to take a seat for the next seven minutes that we had and wait for my final class to begin.

I was now headed to History in the North hall with Mr. Lukoy, just another peculiar surname to memorize…

Once in, I took a seat in the back just as preferred. Teachers had a tendency to call on students more in the front of the class than the back, and boy, did I hate getting called on. It wasn't that I wasn't paying attention to whatever the heck they're lecturing on about, but I would get so nervous that I would usually blank out and my brain would get clouded with farts of ignorance. Just comes with being an outcast introvert, I guess.

The bell rang at 1:50, signalling the start of 6th hour. I scanned the room to see who I knew. I frowned upon realizing that I only had one class with my love, Holly, and then heaved a sigh of relief when I realized that was also the case for Fregley, the kid who I preferred to keep as far away as possible from.

First I saw Jeremy Pindle in the back corner a few seats down from me. He had unfortunately touched the 'Cheese' back in middle school, permanently hindering his abilities to make any friends now, and for the rest of his high school career, until he could graduate, move, and change his name, but till then, poor kid.

I saw a girl I knew named Patty Farrell in the front of the class. She was a brunette with long and straight hair and she was tall for a girl and thin. She wasn't a looker like Holly, but she was a 'glancer'. She was more on the quiet side and somewhat of a nerd in math. She won first place in the 8th grade Math League last spring, so I knew that she knew her equations. My heart leapt a little when I saw her turn her head sideways to look over the classroom, like I was doing. She appeared to have makeup on, unlike in middle school and she wasn't sporting the usual pig tails, rather, down and loose tresses. Her green eyes were doe-like and kinda big, but not creepy-big, like that one picture of Lady Gaga that Rodrick showed me a while back.

I cast my gaze downwards so she wouldn't catch me gawking. I then realized if it hadn't been for my ridiculously huge crush/devotion to the ninth grade Goddess, Holly Hills, then chances were that I'd be asking the mousy, wrestling, math champ to Homecoming, which was just a few weeks away, I realized.

I snapped out of my trance when an elderly man with glasses and grayish scruff and a balding head came in before the class. He had the lights dimmed and he turned the projector on. Before us was displayed a list of chapters and dates to follow them. It was a pretty big list. I could tell that I was not going to like this class.

" *cough cough* I am Mr. Lukoy. Been teaching here at Westmore High for the last forty-one years." Gasps sounded around the room, including one from myself. "I at first majored in Psychology, but then switched to History for my intense interest in how our world has developed into what it is today."

And since I didn't take on the interest in the slightest, I knew this class was gonna suck.

"Well, let me just get attendance going here then I'll explain our lesson plan for the first semester."

This is where I am going to fast forward through this class, because he was just too boring. He had kept true to his word. He did attendance and went through the first ten chapters we're doing, all having something to do with how this country was developed, ya know, like our "Founding Fathers" and crap. Ugh, I was just glad when the bell rang. I couldn't help but glance at my secondary love interest as she scurried out of the room.

As I was heading outside for the bus, I wondered if maybe I could befriend Patty. Just befriend. Like she could hang out with Rowley and I...and Johnny and Earl. Yeah, since we're all friends now, though I still need to introduce Rowley to my two new sophomore friends. I frowned upon the thought of it, however. He is somewhat of a moron, I hate to admit. So, how well will my geezerly equipped friend get along with two semi cool guys? I will just have to wait.

The bus ride back here was nothing exciting at first, until good ol' Freggles started up his old routine of grasping my ankles from under the seats like some kind of freaking creeper from the pits of hell. All I could do was await my arrival back to the bus stop. It was quite a horrific experience, I might add, especially since Rowley wasn't on the bus to abide me with this traumatic and nerve wracking dilemma, or join me, for Fregley has held on to both of our ankles before in the past, but his absence prevented me from achieving that useless relief.

Finally, the bus came to a halt back on my street. I stood with my backpack on over my shoulders, and Fregley still down on the floor holding onto my ankles for dear life. I heaved a sigh and fished around in my backpack for some gum to bribe him with. I shook a peppermint stick before him, getting him to thankfully loosen up.

I then rushed off the bus with great speed and stomped down the simple three steps as if I was being chased by a serial killer. Well, I kinda was, in a way. Fregley's weird antics can certainly be compared to that of a psycho's. Why not?

I dropped my backpack to the floor once I was back at my beloved sanctuary. Home, at last, and better yet, no homework!

I headed for the staircase with my thoughts set on playing Twisted Wizard II, and calling Masochist Jr. later to check up on him, if he isn't in the hospital, that is. I was on the third step when I heard sniffling coming from the kitchen. It sounded like someone was crying.

I stepped down and peered over the corner to see Mom sobbing at the kitchen counter. Oh man…

I tensed up and forced myself to soldier in to face my upset mother. I was also afraid. What happened? Did something happen to Dad at work? Was Manny okay?

My mom jolted upwards and looked shocked as ever when I placed my hand on her shoulder. She alertly met my eyes and then wiped away her tears and mucus on her sleeve in a frantic attempt to hide the fact that she had been crying.

"Oh! Greg, honey, how was your day?" she asked, suddenly okay.

I crossed my arms. "It was okay… Mom, what's wrong?" I had to ask. I supposed that it wasn't something too big a deal, considering her sudden change of subject to derive away from her obvious lachrymose.

"Oh, nothing Greg, I just… started thinking about your brother again." She turned away and grabbed some tissues that were conveniently placed just inches away. "He hasn't visited, let alone call us, in the past three months. I - I miss him, sweetie. I just wish that he would have graduated, at least. He is soo indifferent… It's like he...he hates me or something-"

"NO! No, Mom, he hates all of us. Believe me, it's not just you," I cut in, now feeling upset just like her. He was ruthless! He was a big jerk! He just shrugged his shoulders and took off with Ward. I remember the day he left clearly.

3 Months Earlier:

"NO! NO! Rodrick Daniel Heffley, you get your rear back in here!" yelled Mom from the patio, while my older bro dragged his packed luggage down the driveway, towards the Loded Diper van. I remember that little smirk on his face as I stood beside my mom, who was going nuts over his sudden and careless decision. Not only had he failed to graduate by making a damn fool out of himself at the Graduation while he had his fun at the podium, but he was rooming up with Ward, the biggest druggie slob of the 21st century.

He tossed his final duffle bag loaded with the remainder of his clothing and a few CDs into the Diper, the little sneer still playing along his lips. What a badass. Dad was infuriated. He stormed past Mom and myself and began to retort. "Get back in here, Rodrick. I swear on my own grave if you don't get your act together, I'm gonna-"

"Cram it, Pa. I'm 18. I'm an adult. I don't have to listen to any of you losers." He pointed his finger at the three of us, and Mom began to break down at the insult, while I just felt a little defeated. I was too used to his rude ways to really take any of his crap to heart.

Dad was livid now. His face was red with anger as he tried to grab Rodrick's luggage out of the van, not being able to do so with Rodrick's ways of combat and retaliation.

"Back off, I'm through with all of you!" He climbed into his van and slammed the door shut with one fierce jerk. Manny, who had just turned six, ran out in his Yo Gabba Gabba jammies, with a teddy bear clenched firmly under his little arm.

"BUBBY! RODDY! NOO!" he shouted, tears streaming down his youthful cheek, while my asshole of a brother told him "back off, little bud" as her revved up the vehicle and began to back away. I cringed at the sight of him disregarding our younger sibling like that. He truly was a dick.

Then, as if having no damns left inside of him to give, he lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips. Mom collapsed into my arms and sobbed away, soaking my shirt intensely. I patted her back as I watched my Dad shout after Rodrick who was already out of the driveway and headed down the road. Manny cried as he gazed at the white van that was headed down our road, off miles away in some mysterious apartment with Ward. Well, he later told us of the apartment like a week later, it was called the 'Taylor Inn'. He hadn't phoned us since then, the last June sometime, I'm not really sure of the exact date.

I was labeled as the 'Good Egg' now. I was the nerdy geek who would never even think about taking after my carefree brother. I knew that it was up to me to be a positive influence for my little brother. Rodrick had just failed us all…

I tried my best to assure Mom that everything would be alright, and that there was really nothing we could do at this point. As he had said himself, he was his own man. An adult, who could and would make his own choices. Mom seemed to disagree, however.

She sniffled again and put her glasses back on, then got up and headed for our 'key rack' by the front door. "C'mon, Greg. We can always keep trying."

What? Where were we going?

"Uh…"

She looked at me and gestured me to follow her outside with her right hand. "You're coming with me to Taylor, hon. I want you to go in by yourself, and have a brother to brother conversation with him, for I believe it will prove beneficial in the long run if it's just you and him."

My stomach flipped. I did not like the sounds of that.

"Um, Mom, not to burst your bubble or anything, but I highly doubt that I can evoke Rodrick to the 'Good side', since, well, he kinda thinks I'm a big dork."

She stood at the threshold, almost glaring at me. Of course, I had no choice in the matter. I sighed and sluggishly followed her out the door and to the car. This was gonna suck.