Note: I'm aware there's some slight weirdness between this and the next part, due largely to me writing part 20, waiting forever, not rereading it, then writing part 21. There might have also been some sleep deprivation in there somewhere. XD Fail, self, fail. I'll eventually edit it so that it all flows smoothly, but since that might not happen until the fic is entirely finished, I figure it's better to just post it up a little rough for now. Sorreeeee! XD
The first of September dawns cold and bleak. Walter knows this because he is up just before dawn, dressing quickly and grabbing his school bag, which is already neatly packed (for what will probably be the last time this year). He pauses outside his mom's bedroom door, considers telling her he's leaving, then decides she would only be mad at him for waking her. She'll figure it out. Instead he wanders out to the kitchen, digs around in the refrigerator until he finds a packet of bologna that's only a couple days out of date. Fixing himself a sandwich, he shoves it into his bag and heads out the door.
He's probably leaving a bit earlier than strictly necessary, but it's better than being late, today in particular. It's the first day of school, though that is a fairly minor point in his mind. No, today he has his own reasons for being early.
The trains run smoothly, and he notes how long it takes, deciding that he can leave the apartment half an hour later in the future and still make it to school with plenty of time. He shoves his hands into his pockets and stifles a yawn as he walks the last few blocks to school. It's pretty much deserted still, only the occasional teacher wandering through the gate, looking just as tired as Walter feels.
He leans against the fence, pulling the hood of his jacket down as low as it will go and letting his head fall forward slightly. It's cold enough to keep him from falling asleep, but his thoughts drift lazily, blurring together at the edges.
Students begin arriving, wandering in a few at a time, most of them looking less than thrilled. Walter perks up a little as the numbers increase, beginning to scan the arrivals.
He hears Laurie's voice a moment before he sees them. "--least we're seventh graders now," she's saying. "It's gonna be weird, though, without -- Walter!"
"I know," Dan says, "but --"
"No," Laurie says in exasperation, smacking Dan's arm, then pointing, "Walter!"
It was worth missing half an hour of sleep, he decides, to see the expression on Dan's face.
***
Laurie is, at least in part, correct. Being in seventh grade has its advantages -- they know their way around now, for one, and this year's crop of eighth grade bullies are either less intimidating than last year's, or more inclined to ignore them and bother the sixth-graders. The comparison of schedules comes out much more favorably, too -- they each share at least one class with one of the others. It makes passing their notebook quite a bit easier (though secretly, they all sort of miss the drop points, which made it all seem much more exciting and undercover) and also means that more and more missions are co-written with the book being passed back and forth between desks.
They're a little more prepared now to deal with the mounting stacks of homework, and they stake out their lunch table on the first day, lest any new sixth-graders get any ideas about claiming it as their own. Life largely settles back into its typical routine. They try to stick to their weekly meeting, and if more and more, it doesn't happen, it's not that big a deal, really. They've still got their adventures on paper, and they see each other at school, after all.
Walter, oddly enough, is now the one who often can't join them after school -- it's a long trek back to his apartment, only to rush through his homework, fall asleep, wake up early and do it all over again. They all notice that he seems more tired, more easily agitated than usual, but they shrug it off. He's got a lot to deal with, they know, and try to give him a break.