At lunch, Baker talked about the kid he'd seen in the library. "He was wearing strange pants," Baker said, and Parker rolled his eyes. He knew the guy – or, rather, he'd seen him before, had a little chat with him, and hadn't looked twice at him since. "But I started that book he gave me and it isn't half bad."

"Who has time to read?" Abraham said, snatching the book from Baker's hand. He flipped through it. "Huh. Double-spaced. Weird."

"Not as weird as your face, dear," Baker said, snatching the book back. Abraham sat there for a few more minutes, processing, before he got angry.

"Hey! That's not fa-"

"Break it up," Parker said, putting a hand on Baker's head and another one on Abraham's face. Abraham, naturally, licked his hand. "Jesus Christ."

"Don't do that," Abraham said. Parker rolled his eyes and wiped his hand off on one of Abraham's napkins. "Don't do that, either."

"Abe," Parker said. "Shut the fuck up."

Satisfied, Parker went back to his lunch. His Sunday had been sucky, mostly because of that stupid Barkobitch, but other than that, the weekend had been nice, and this day didn't look to be going too bad, either.

"So, Abe," Parker said, taking a bite of his weird chicken patty burger. "How'd your weekend go?"

Abe shrugged one shoulder. "Met some guy who dropped out," he said around a mouthful of cooked carrots. "Has a pregnant wife. Dunno, he seemed pretty okay. You, Baker?"

"I hung out with Olson most the whole weekend," Baker said. He sighed, as if reliving the memory, and rubbed his temples. "He plays a lot of video games. At a very high volume."

Parker snorted. "You hang out with that guy? Seems like a major douche to me," he remarked. "Of course, I hang out with Abraham, so I guess I have no place to talk."

"You, shut up," Abraham said. "What'd you do on Sunday, anyway? I called your cell a few times and you never picked up. I felt very betrayed and alone. That reminds me. Are you saying you want to break up with me?"

Parker hit him. "No, dumbass, I was playing basketball. With Barkobitch and that stupid winky guy," he said. Then he shuddered. "Guy makes me uncomfortable."

"Davidson?" Baker asked. "He's alright, I guess. I have Algebra II with him. He always tries to copy my homework. By the way, are either of you going out for track in the spring? I was sort of thinking about it… I don't know, I didn't do track last year, at my old school, but I thought it might be kind of fun. I like long distance running, anyway. I could maybe do the two mile."

"Nobody does the two mile," Parker said, tipping his chair back on two legs. "Hell, you'd probably win just by being the only goddam one to try. I like the four hundred and eight hundred."

"Wow, what a badass," Abraham observed in that strangely serious, yet totally satirical way of his. "I used to do some jumping, freshman year. I quit after that, though. Fucked up my hip on the long jump. Dunno if I can do it again."

"Baby," Parker said, shoving him. Abraham shoved him back and he fell over.

After school, Olson waited outside for Baker. It wasn't that he didn't have any other friends, because he totally did, because everyone totally loved him because he was awesome, but he liked Baker the most. Mostly because Baker would listen to him, and was also complete shit at video games.

He was half-afraid that Baker would come out with Parker and Abraham, but he'd even consider going up and dragging him away if that was the case. Because even though Parker was an absolute beast and Abraham was stupid as fuck, he could deal with them. Hell, he spent all of middle school and his first and second year of high school sucking up to beasts like Parker, and he sure as hell didn't care what that stupid prick thought of him.

But when Baker walked out talking to quite possibly the weirdest kid in the whole goddam place, Olson had to seriously consider going up to him.

He decided to just sort of… follow them from a distance. Close enough so that he could hear their voices, far enough away so that they wouldn't take any notice of him. People had been taking more notice of him this year, which was probably due to his bleached hair, but he still didn't get as much attention as he deserved, and he would use that to his advantage.

"-really liking it so far," Baker was saying once he got close enough to hear them. The weird kid was nodding, and Baker kept talking. "I mean, Roland's a great protagonist, I think, not quite black or white but in the gray zone. I'm almost done. Does the library have the second one?"

"If not, I can bring my own copy from home," the weird kid said. "I don't believe I told you my name."

"Oh, that's right," Baker said. He laughed, and it made Olson's heart hurt to look at his quite possibly only – er, best – friend talking and laughing with some weirdo instead of him. "Sorry about that. That's kind of weird, isn't it? I've been talking to you this whole time, and I don't even know your name."

"It's Alan Stebbins," the weird kid said. What the hell was some sort of pretentions name like Alan Stebbins?

Okay, that last thought didn't actually make sense, but Olson didn't care. He scowled, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. He'd take a detour by the gas station and pick up a few RockStars and Reese's, and then just go home, ignore his homework, and play Call of Duty until he forgot all about this.

Barkovitch had had a fairly good day, as far as good days for Gary Barkovitch went. Rank had been gone, and that had been pretty good – as well as that, Collie Parker seemed to be avoiding his existence entirely, which was also a plus. He didn't need that big blond dickhead following him around. No, he was left alone for basically the entire day, which, while slightly preferable to being shoved around, was still kind of suckish.

But it had been a good day. As far as good days went. He just sort of wished…

No. No, that was stupid. Hell, out of the two nice people in the goddam school, one was hanging out with pricks with Collie Parker and James Abraham, the other was out of school after a fucking car accident. Hell, he hadn't talked to that weirdo from the library in forever, either.

He could just go home and play video games.

He'd left the school late after talking to the counselor for some bullshit reason, and, on his way home, ran straight into Hank Olson.

"Watch where you're going, Dumbo," Barkovitch snapped immediately, even though Olson was the one on the ground, a few cans of RockStar on the ground around him. "What the fuck, you actually like this stuff? Monster's way better."

"Monster tastes like shit, dude," Olson said. Barkovitch snorted. "What the hell's your problem, anyway?"

"Don't have anything to do, that's my fucking problem," Barkovitch snapped. "What's a loser like you buying dumb as hell energy drinks, anyway?"

"Going home to play some Call of Duty," Olson said promptly. "Because my dumbass friend – er, friends, that's plural – abandoned me for some weirdo who likes books."

There was a pause.

"Join me?"


So many fun things in this chapter. So many.

Also, Parker and Abraham are those people who aren't dating but eventually they just sort of start dating and everyone knows but them and then it's just sort of like.

Huh.