A/N: Thanks to Allison, who helped me with these next two chapters. You have to read her story 'Special Delivery'. It's amazing!

Chapter Twenty-one: Dungeons and Dragons

Brian sat on the edge of Larry's bed, waiting for his turn at the Atari. David and Larry were sitting on the floor in front of him, eyes glued to the television screen. Larry was sticking out his tongue in concentration and David was sitting so close to the screen that Brian feared he may suffer permanent damage to his eyes if he didn't distance himself.

"Uh, David. You might want to, you know, scoot back a little. Your eyes are g-"

"Brian, shut up."

"Yeah, okay."

A few minutes later, Larry slammed down his joystick and turned to glare at David. "You do that every time. It's not a legal move!"

David waved him off. "Of course it's legal. If it wasn't, I couldn't do it, could I?"

"You're such a cheater."

"And you are a sore loser." David turned backwards to look at Brian. "You ready to go up against…" He smirked at Larry. "…the master of Dungeons and Dragons?"

Larry snorted. "You wish."

"I don't have to, as we just learned."

Larry looked as though he wanted to punch him. Brian jumped off of the bed and stood between the two boys. "Uh, hey, fellas. Let's, uh, let's just cool down for a minute, okay?"

Larry continued glaring, but didn't say anything else. David held out a hand to make peace, but as soon as Larry reached out to take it, he pulled it away. "Psyche!"

"You jerk!"

"Hey, hey! Come on, guys. Let's…let's just do something else, okay? All we ever do on Friday night is play video games or study. We need to do something better."

"Return of the Jedi!"

"You've already seen it eight times, David."

"So? It's a masterpiece of modern filmmaking."

Larry scoffed. "Yeah, right. George Lucas is losing his touch. The first one was way better."

"But that was six years ago. Technology has advanced dramatically since then. Jedi had way better visuals."

Brian sighed. "We are not seeing Return of the Jedi again."

"Why not?"

"We saw it last week!"

"So?"

"So, shut up, loser."

"I wasn't talking to you, Larry. I was talking to Brian."

"Well, I'm talking to you. Shut up and stop cheating at video games."

"For the last time, I didn't cheat! That is a legal move and-"

"Hey!" Larry and David stopped squabbling and turned to Brian, who was standing in between them, holding his hands out in front of him like a referee. "Everyone needs to shut up, okay?"

Larry sighed. "Fine. What are we going to do then?"

Brian sat back down on the bed. "I don't know, but it needs to be something cool."

"Cool? Did you just say cool?"

"Yeah."

David looked confused. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

Larry rolled his eyes. "He's saying he doesn't want to go watch Return of the Jedi again, moron."

"All I'm saying is, we should do something different. You know, something that, like, regular people do."

"Hey, I'm a regular person."

Larry rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, right."

Brian shook his head. "You know what I mean. I was just thinking that maybe we could, like, go to a party or something." Larry and David stared at him blankly, apparently waiting for the punch line. Brian shifted uncomfortably. "Or, you know, we could just stay here and keep playing video games."

David grabbed his controller from the floor and sighed. "We never get to do what I want to do."

"Crybaby."

"Loser… at Dungeons and Dragons."

"I am never playing this game with you again, David. Ever."

"What else are we going to play?" He motioned at the tower of game cartridges stacked on top of the television. "Rocky and Bullwinkle? The Kool-Aid Man?"

"Those aren't mine! I've told you that a thousand times before!"

"And I suspect you'll keep telling me that for the rest of your life. But you and I both know that you sit up late at night, when you think that no one else can hear you, hoping to finally stop the evil Boris and Natasha once and for all."

"Can I kill him? Please?" Larry looked at Brian pleadingly.

Brian sighed and grabbed Larry's controller from the floor. "I guess it's my turn anyway."

David turned the console back on. "By the way, Larry," he said, pushing up his glasses. "You may regret that last statement when you find out my news."

Larry was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking bored. "What?"

"I got Tower of Mystery today."

"What!" Larry was on his feet immediately, argument forgotten. "The new Dungeons and Dragons? Have you played it yet? Is it awesome? Oh, my God, why didn't you bring it?"

"I forgot. But you two can come over tomorrow if you want."

Larry groaned. "I can't! My stupid cousins are coming in from out of town."

David nodded sympathetically. "Brian?"

Brian shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

"Excellent! My Dad'll pick you up in the morning." He scooted forward until he was only inches from the screen, then turned and saluted at Brian. "Good luck, my friend. You're going to need it." Without waiting for Brian's response, he picked up his joystick and pushed START.

Bender didn't bother knocking on Jerry's door before entering. The noises coming from inside told him that the party had already started and was in full force. He pushed the door open and stepped into the tiny house.

Jerry's mother had died a few years before, leaving him and his brother to fend for themselves. Thankfully, she had already paid off the mortgage to the house. This meant that even when they were forced to live on pork and beans for weeks on end until his older brother, Will, finally found a job, they at least had a roof over their heads, even if it did leak. Will had long since left Shermer for greener pastures, though he sent his little brother letters every couple of weeks with checks tucked inside. Will, the more ambitious of the two, had gone to trade school and eventually found a good job with an electrical repair company fixing broken refrigerators and faulty wiring. Jerry, on the other hand, was a little less motivated. He relied heavily on his brother's generosity and only worked at the garage to pay for his, shall we say, decadent lifestyle.

"Bender, man, where the fuck have you been?"

Bender shrugged and walked deeper into the house, where his host and several of their friends were lounging on couches and other makeshift seating. Jerry was sitting on a couch in the middle of the group, beer in one hand and a joint in the other. "Have a seat, friend." He kicked the foot of one of the boys sitting across from him. "Come on, show John some respect, will ya?" The boy laughed and scooted closer to the girl next to him, who didn't seem to mind at all. Bender plopped down and put his arm up over the back of the sofa.

"How you doin', Jerry?"

"How'm I doing?" He glanced around at the room at the party going on around them. "How'm I doing? I'm doin' pretty fuckin' good, and yourself?"

"I'm holdin' on."

"Yeah? That's a nice shiner you've got there."

Bender ran his fingertips over the bruise below his eye. "Thanks. It was a birthday gift from a friend."

"I didn't know it was your birthday."

"It's not."

"Oh." Jerry paused, then shook his head. "So, where the fuck have you been this week? Haven't seen your ugly mug since last…" He looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember. "I don't know, but it's been a long fuckin' time."

"Not that long. I saw you a few days ago."

"When? I don't remember that."

Bender pretended to look stunned. "No kidding!"

Jerry grinned, waggling his eyebrows. He took a drag on the joint in his right hand. "Where've you been?"

"They call it school."

"What the fuck you goin' to school for?"

"To get a fucking education," Bender said, placing special emphasis on Jerry's favorite word. "At least that's what they tell me."

"What the fuck you need an education for?" He waved his arms around, spilling a few drops of beer on the cushions. "I never graduated, but I did okay. Look at this place. It's a fuckin' mansion."

Bender glanced over at Roger, who was sitting a few feet away drinking a beer. Upon hearing Jerry's comment, he arched his eyebrows in warning, but didn't say anything. Bender turned back to Jerry, but he was getting up from the sofa, trying not to trip over anyone's feet on the way to the kitchen.

"I need another beer. Does anyone else need a beer? Because I need a beer."

A few people shouted their orders at Jerry, but Bender knew it was in vain. Jerry would probably find an ex-girlfriend in the kitchen, hook up with her in the back room, and return thirty minutes later wondering where his own beer went.

The couple sitting next to Bender scooted past, leaving him with the couch to himself. Roger took their place on the sofa and leaned back, sinking into the cushions. He took a long look at Bender's face, but didn't say anything.

"Just don't ask, okay?"

"I wasn't going to."

Bender nodded and took Roger's beer from him. Without asking, he took a long swig, then gave it back. "You got any cigarettes? I've been out all week."

Roger removed a pack from the front pocket of his shirt and tossed it into his lap. "Light?" Roger dug into his jeans pocket and threw a lighter at him. Bender caught it and lit one of the cigarettes, taking a deep drag. He sighed with contentment and tossed the lighter and pack of cigarettes onto the sofa next to Roger. "Thanks."

"Keep 'em. I've got more at home." Roger threw the pack at Bender again.

"Sure?"

"Yeah." He paused. "What happened to your hand?"

Bender looked at his left hand, momentarily forgetting what could possibly be wrong with it. When he saw the scabs left by the guitar strings, he closed his hand into a fist and looked away. "Nothing."

Roger leaned over and pried his hand open. "You been playin' guitar?"

Bender jerked his hand away. "A little."

"Looks like you assaulted the strings. Why'd you do that?"

"I hadn't played in a while, so what?"

"So, most people take it easy when they start up again."

"Well, I'm not most people." Bender grinned. "I'm unique." Roger's eyebrows went up again, letting Bender know that he wasn't convinced. Bender squirmed and took another drag on the cigarette. "You were right, you know."

"About what?"

"About people. You know, the other day in the park. You said no one's different. Remember that?" Roger nodded, watching him. "Well, you were right. Just wanted you to know that."

Roger nodded again and looked out at the party going on around them. Then he turned back to Bender and smoothed a hand over his dark brown beard. "I never wanted to be right."

"Well, you were."

Roger nodded again, but kept silent this time. They smoked cigarettes for a few minutes, watching the people walk by, smoking, drinking, laughing, dancing. Bender wanted to join them, but suddenly he felt very tired.

Jerry walked back into the room and saw Bender and Roger lounging on the couch. "Hey, Bender, guess what."

"What?"

"I got you a birthday present, man."

Bender rolled his eyes. "I told you, it's not my birthday."

Jerry walked around the couch and stood beside him. "Trust me, you're still gonna want it." He lifted his eyebrows and pressed a finger against one side of his nose, then snorted. "You know what I'm sayin'?"

Bender clenched his jaw and looked over at Roger, whose mouth was set in a firm line that suggested how he felt about Jerry's taste in birthday presents. Roger narrowed his eyes at Bender, watching him closely. Bender shook his head, then lifted himself off of the couch.

"Right on! Come with me." Jerry placed a hand on Bender's back to lead him out of the room.

"John!"

Bender turned back towards Roger, who was glaring at him. "What?"

"You know what you're doin'?"

"I always know what I'm doing."

"You're a fucking liar."

Bender's eyes widened. Roger shook his head, disappointment radiating off of his body. Bender felt very small all of a sudden, like a child caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. Part of him wanted to sit back down on the couch, or better yet, go home and sleep. Another part of him was ready to show Roger that he didn't care what he thought. Why the hell did he always have to feel like he was disappointing someone anyway?

Bender turned back to Jerry, placed his hand on his friend's shoulder and started leading him away from the couch. "Did you get me a cake, too?"

Allison stood in front of her bathroom mirror staring at her reflection. The fact that this was becoming such a habit was unnerving. She didn't want to care so much about her appearance; she wanted to be the starving artist with the black clothes and the ink stained fingers who sometimes didn't shower for a couple of days because she simply forgot. She wanted to be that girl, had been that girl, but something had changed. Something.

When the doorbell rang, Allison threw her tube of Chapstick into the sink and raced downstairs to see her father's reaction to their guest. She was disappointed to find the downstairs empty and her parents nowhere to be seen. A few seconds later, the doorbell rang again. Allison sighed, adjusted her headband and pulled the door open.

Andy was standing on her front porch, looking as good as ever. He was wearing a dark blue button up shirt over a pair of khaki pants with a clean pair of sneakers poking out from the bottom. He smiled when he saw her. "Hi."

Allison opened her mouth, but her vocal cords weren't working. It suddenly occurred to her that she was on a date. A Real Date, as Andy had called it. She'd never been on a date before. She hadn't even had any friends come over, much less a boy that was most likely going to be paying for her next meal. And why did he have to wear that shirt anyway? Didn't he realized that it made his eyes look impossibly blue?

Andy shifted his weight from one foot to another. "So, are you, uh, are you ready?"

Allison paused. Of course I'm not ready. Without saying anything, she closed the door behind her and walked past him towards the light blue Bronco on the curb, hoping that if she just didn't think about what she was doing then she wouldn't be nervous. She pulled on the door handle, but it didn't budge.

"Uh, I'll need to unlock it for you." Andy opened the door and she climbed into the passenger seat. He glanced over at her as he opened the driver's side door, probably wondering why she hadn't said a word since he'd arrived. On the way to the restaurant, neither of them spoke. Allison tried to count trees, but it was too dark outside to see much of anything. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, the silence was decidedly uncomfortable.

The interior of the restaurant was bright and loud, much like the school cafeteria. The hostess seated them in a booth and left their menus on the table in front of them. Allison glanced over at Andy, who was staring at her. She looked away quickly and dug into her bag for a pen. When she found it, she grabbed a paper napkin from a small pile in the middle of the table and started drawing.

She could tell that Andy was watching her, but didn't look up at him. She worked quietly for a few minutes and let her nervous energy flow into the pen, through the ink and onto the napkin, where it became a picture of a fork and spoon. By the time she'd finished the handles, her heart rate had almost returned to normal.

"Hi, my name is Maggie and I'll be serving you today. Can I go ahead and get you some drinks?"

Allison looked up at the waitress, a pretty woman with a small skirt and a big smile. Maggie watched her expectantly, pen poised to take her order. Allison, who had forgotten that she would have to make decisions like this, opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. The older woman paused, then pointed at the menu in front of her. "We have soda, coffee, juice, tea-"

"Vodka."

"Excuse me?"

"Vodka."

On the other side of the table, Andy let out a sharp chuckle. The waitress looked surprised, but tried to hide it. "Um, okay. I'll need to…I'll need to see your I.D."

Allison rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a plastic card from the bottom. She gave it to the waitress, who looked confused.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but this is a school I.D. I'll need to see a driver's license."

"Oh. I don't have one."

The waitress paused. "Well, I'll need to see one for you to order an alcoholic beverage, so I'm afraid I can't-"

"What about a fake I.D.?"

"Excuse me?"

"A fake I.D." She turned to Andy. "Show her yours. I think I left mine at home."

Andy could hardly keep from laughing. "Uh, I'll just have a Coke and, uh…she'll have the same."

A/N: Please review!