In the darkness of the car, only occasionally lit up by the stark white light of the street lamps, Lawliet and Light shared theories on what was going on. Their information was limited, so they had to work together to tie together small bits of evidence to a coherent message.

It was the hardest either one of them had thought about anything in years. They challenged each other's ideas, made points, counter-points and built upon different hypothesis.

"I bet you're a good lawyer Light," Lawliet admitted after around half an hour of furious conversation. It would have galled him to say that before this night, would have made him feel embarrassed, reflecting on his own failures and mistakes. But now he really was just impressed with his friend.

Light laughed, used to compliments but feeling warmed because a compliment from Lawliet meant something, "I'm ok," he answered, "but I don't do anything that exciting. I don't do criminal law, which is what everyone thinks. I'm a solicitor in commercial law. My job really isn't that sexy."

"But…you enjoy it?"

Light grimaced, "I…yeah…" he sighed. Outside it was dark and he drove slowly, watching out for black ice, "no. I don't. I don't really tell anyone because I know they'll be disappointed but I don't like it at all."

"What would you rather do?" Lawliet tucked up his legs, fascinated as he watched the lights of the street lights playing on Light's face.

"I'm ok within the industry, but maybe not a solicitor. To be honest I'm just not sure. It's not something I put a lot of thought into. I get feelings of… being unhappy… but I just lock it away. I have a lot to be grateful for. I have a nice flat, in an up-scale neighbourhood, proud parents, a consistent income…"

"A beautiful fiancée?"

"Yeah… that too. I'm just very lucky. I don't want to be a brat about it."

Lawliet took a lollypop that had been stashed in his pocket and put it into his mouth, resisting the urge to bite into it straight away.

"You've worked very hard to get where you are today," he said to Light, "I'm … I am sorry I didn't appreciate that about you before. I thought you were being smug but, you have a right to be proud of everything you accomplished."

"Thanks," Light answered quietly, oddly touched, "I think… maybe I am a smug arsehole sometimes. Maybe I over-compensate."

"Because you aren't happy?"

"Yeah," Light felt embarrassed but kept talking. Like in the space of the car it was a sacred, safe place. "But also because I feel like such a fake sometimes. Even in school, it's all these posh kids and then there's me. It's when I started dying my hair brown and speaking with this accent."

Lawliet's response was wry, "more R.P. English than Scottish?"

"Yeah."

Lawliet looked out the window then. He knew what it was to feel like an outsider, but for very different reasons than Light.

"I um," he began after a few moments, "I worried, when I was younger, about being autistic. I didn't mind as a child, but as a teenager it began to really bother me. I would pretend that it didn't. But I didn't like it. I didn't like being the autistic kid. I was never bullied but… I don't know. Everyone thought I was smart because I was autistic. My 'quirky' personality was my autism. I felt less like Lawliet and more like The Autist." He bit the lollypop, losing patience with it. "I didn't want that to be my defining feature but I wasn't able to stop it. And I didn't like being ashamed. I would swing wildly from being embarrassed by it to proclaiming it was what made me, I guess, superior to all the 'normal' kids. Sometimes I'd worry that I was playing up to my autism. Like, pretending I was Rain Man or something, but I hadn't done so on purpose. It was a struggle to know where the diagnosis ended and just I as a person began. I know that's not the same as, like, class and race and other important issues but. I don't know." He rubbed his head and patted down his jeans' pockets for more sweets, he found a chocolate éclair and popped it into his mouth, "I feel like after leaving uni I got stupid."

Light laughed softly, "me too. Don't worry, me too."

There was an atmosphere of squalor the closer they came to Lawliet's home. The streets became shabbier, with litter blowing about in the wind. Pots holes in the road. Broken glass, smashed bus stops. Homeless people sleeping in bin liners or sleeping bags in they were lucky, far out of the city centre and so less likely to have made any money via goodwill that day. Many of them would freeze to death this night.

"You live with Mello and Misa now, right?"

"Yeah," Lawliet sounded lower than usual. Was it a sign of tiredness?

"That was nice of them. To help out."

"It was," Lawliet stirred and stretched out his legs at last. They were long, Light noticed. Probably pale too. Light wondered about Lawliet's ethnicity. Was he old school British? He had a very Saxon look about him, very Welsh, but there was a twist of something else too. He didn't ask though. It felt too rude.

They pulled up, Lawliet jumping out of his seat. Light sat behind the wheel until Lawliet bent down, looking back in the car. His eyes were large and dark and his hair was scattered about his pale face. He looked like an owl.

"Are you coming in?"

Light jumped, for some reason, "oh, sure, yeah."

For some reason, he just felt overjoyed to have been invited inside.

Wendy and Naomi had just finished up when Light and Lawliet bounded into the living room.

Light smiled politely at Wendy and Lawliet insisted to Naomi that they all needed to go to police station immediately.

"Sure," answered Naomi, "um, hi Light."

"Hello Naomi. I can drive you and Lawliet." Light looked back at Wendy and, realising neither Naomi nor Lawliet would introduce them, took it upon himself, "hi, I apologise for bursting into you home. My name is Light."

"Wendy," she grinned, "so you're from the book club?"

"Oh, you've heard about me?"

She smirked, "just bits and pieces."

"All good I hope," he laughed.

Wendy grinned in such a way that Light interpreted her expression as a 'no'.

Lawliet grabbed Light's shoulder, pulling his attention away from the blonde, "come on, we have to go!"

With abrupt goodbyes, all three fled the small council house.

Wendy watched them out of her window, lighting up a cigarette. Light was exactly how she envisioned. Young, handsome, clearly very rich. And something predatory under all that politeness. She could see why it would annoy Lawliet and Mello who were clearer about their intentions. However, Light didn't seem bad to her. Everyone needs to pretend a little to fit in. If they didn't, they could end up like Felicity.

Considering Misa didn't like Light's girlfriend, Wendy began to wonder if it was less that Light and Kiyomi were offensive and more that her twins were jealous. She took another puff of her cigarette. She never, ever wanted her twins to feel inferior. But… maybe this was good for them. Maybe this was the kick they needed to make more of an effort, to try instead of demanding. To earn respect from others. Wendy had learned early on that mouthing off hadn't really been a useful skill to hone. It didn't help her manage her co-workers, her neighbours or her boss. If anything it had made her more compliant. More docile. Because without being able to scream and punch someone, she didn't know how to handle people bullying her. It had been embarrassing when Naomi had questioned her on Stephen's sexual behaviour. Wendy hadn't even argued it, she just took it, because she needed the job and knew she was 'in the wrong'. But she hadn't been in the wrong.

She moved away from the window, staring down at the carpet floor.

"I didn't know how to fight him," she whispered. She hadn't read the policies because they were long and difficult to understand. She didn't know how to use her words to argue properly or coherently.

Books.

Books gave you language.

They give words and ideas.

They show you how to get something from the brain and onto a page.

Wendy didn't read, but she would make sure the twins did. She stabbed out her cigarette, pushing it into the ashtray. She'd make sure they'd be able to afford the books the book club would offer fortnightly. She'd make sure of it, even if it meant riding around to different libraries or using cash reserved for things like tea bags or cigarettes. They could go without those things. But her little brother and sister will never be without words.

By the time Kiyomi arrived home, her little brother in tow, it was midnight. They dragged Mido's suitcase into the living room before collapsing on the couch.

"Light must be asleep upstairs," she whispered, pointing to the mezzanine loft. "Are you sure you don't mind sleeping on the couch?"

"I'm sure," he smiled tiredly. He glanced over to the dining area and frowned, his demeanour tensing. "Um, Kiyomi…"

She looked where he was looking and for a moment it was as if the world around her paused. The table was set. Dishes were out and there were remains of what looked like a meal. For two.

She had been texting Light, telling him she was coming home early. He hadn't responded. This was normal for Light and it was something that annoyed her, but she always put up with it. She would tell herself he was busy with work. But tonight it seems he was busy with another person. She looked up at where their bedroom was. Without saying a word to Mido, who was now very awake and alert, she stormed over to the stairs and ran up them quickly.

"The bed is empty," she announced, no longer bothering to whisper.

"Maybe he just had a friend over," said Mido. But he sounded unconvinced and she just looked at him with a flat expression.

She slowly made her way to the kitchen table, eyes filling with tears. She knew this was going to happen. She knew it. She had just been waiting. Why had she waited? Why had she waited for the embarrassment, the humiliation of it?

"Kiyomi," her brother walked up to her, touching her shoulder gently, "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not even sad about Light," she choked out, her voice thick with tears, "it's the end of the dream, you know? I always knew he wasn't interested. Not really but… but now I have to face it. One night away and…" she gestured to the table, tears now falling.

"You're smart and you're beautiful," Mido hissed, "you deserve better than a traitor."

"It's the time invested," she insisted, "it isn't Light," she frowned as she realised what she was saying, "it really isn't Light that upsets me. It's my wasted time. It's my wasted effort. It's the fact that I'm going to have to start all over again with someone new. I just want…"

There was a pause.

"What?" prompted Mido.

She frowned harder. She was going to say a husband. Kids. Her mom's life. But did she really want that? Did she?

"I don't know anymore," she wiped her eyes.

Suddenly, her phone rang out, making the pair jump.

"It's Light," she whispered in horror to Mido. Clearing her throat she put the call on loud speaker, "Light?"

"Hi, just got your texts," Light said. He was somewhere busy. She could hear phones ringing and papers rustling and people typing and all the sounds of an office in the background. It certainly didn't sound like the bedroom of a secret lover after an illicit tryst. "Listen, I'm fine with Mido coming to stay. I think it's a good idea. You're not going to guess what's happened to me tonight. I'm at a police station!"

"O-oh?" She blinked, confused. Light sounded weird. Sort of breathless and excited. Giddy even.

"Yeah, really," he laughed a bit, "I sort of got involved with this crazy thing with Lawliet."

"Who?"

"Lawliet. L. From book club."

She paused for a moment before, "the pale guy?"

"Yeah! How could you forget him? So we had dinner tonight and, long story short, went on a stakeout. The police are pretty mad at us but it seems we've helped with something. It's been amazing! But they've warned us that we'll be here for hours now."

Kiyomi was completely in shock. She was, to quote Lady Caroline, all astonishment.

"Are you angry at me?" asked Light as the silence went on a beat too long. He sounded defeated, which made her feel bad, defensive and anger all at once.

"No," she insisted, her voice high, "no, no, no. I… it's just a surprise. A lot to take in and it's late. Um… well done?"

"Thanks," she could hear his smile, "did you enjoy being home?"

"Yeah…"

A beat. For some stupid reason she was caught on the word 'home'. She had known, automatically, that he had meant her parents house and not the apartment they shared together. He had not considered it home, or her home at least. And neither had she.

The beat went on too long and it was awkward.

"Ok, well I better being going," Light announced in a business-like manner, "Tell Mido I said hi."

"I will. See you tomorrow?"

"Yep. See you."

He hung up and she stared at the phone before looking up at Mido.

They just stared for a moment until Mido took out two cigarettes, one for himself and one for her. She took it. She needed it.

Someone was knocking on the door.

Nate opened his eyes. It was early in the morning; the sky was still dark and the birds were not yet singing. He walked out of his bedroom into the sitting room. Misa was on the large couch, fast asleep and wrapped in a duvet. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he passed her and opened the front door.

It was Matt.

He was hugging himself and stank of cigarettes.

"Hey," he shuddered.

Nate was taken over with a sudden feeling of wrongness about the situation. He and Matt were not close, Matt being a friend of Misa who only visited with her.

"Come in, quick, it's freezing." Nate hurried the teenage boy in and took him into the warmest part of the house, the kitchen. It was small in there so the boys were close together. Nate put the kettle on. Matt needed warming up.

"Why are you here?" He looked at Matt and realised his face was bruised on one side.

"I got into a fight last night," Matt explained. Like Nate he kept his voice low.

"Were people being cruel about the twins again?" asked Nate. In the short time of their acquaintance, Nate had discovered that Matt was a loyal friend to the twins and, being stuck in school whilst they were suspended, was getting the abuse that was really meant towards the twins.

"Yeah," Matt shuddered, "someone called Misa a slut. That was a big thing. Then I went home, dad didn't get it, mom called Mello a faggot… it was annoying. I just walked around until I remembered here." Matt peered at Nate, "is it ok that I came?"

"Of course." Nate made a strong cup of tea, very sweet, how Matt liked it, and handed to the boy who sipped it gratefully. Nate watched in disconcertion. What parents allowed their child out at all hours at night? "You can sleep in my bed for now."

He led Matt into the back part of the small apartment to where his bedroom was, giving the boy some privacy to undress and climb into bed. When Nate checked on him twenty minutes later, Matt was already fast asleep.

Nate padded into the living room and curled up on a comfy chair and thought about Mello. He was the only one missing of the trio of cubs Nate had somehow adopted. He thought about the strange electric tension that was always between him and Mello. From the first night they met. The air always seemed so… thick when Mello was around. With Misa he had been lucky, she sort of just invited herself into his house and made him her friend. Matt seemed more like an animal, like a cat, circling cautiously and watching from afar before slowly letting himself in.

'Maybe I should actually be the one to make an effort this time,' Nate wondered, 'instead of just waiting for people to come to me?'

Never one to rush into anything Nate mused and pondered for around twenty minutes, made a hot chocolate, thought for another ten minutes before drafting up a few texts. He didn't want to write a long, emotional message, but he also didn't want to be blunt.

Finally he decided on:

Good morning Mello. It is Nate. I am with your sister and your friend, Matt. Matt was upset but is sleeping now. Please come over sometime today, before the Book Club tonight. I enjoy your company and would like to see you once more. I'm sure if I am not tempting enough, perhaps come for Matt? Yours sincerely, Nate.

It wasn't even a minute later when his phone buzzed with multiple messages.

Nate what the duck?

What the FUCK?

Its five am!

"tempted"?

OMG

OMG

Nate. I shall come to your house later today.

I like you also.

I like your company I mean.

Why is Matt upset?

Did you upset him?

Nate read through the messages slowly, but it was difficult because Mello kept sending new messages like 'what the fuck is happening?' and 'where r u?' and 'talk to me!' and 'ducks sake!'

Shaking his head, Nate tip toed into the kitchen and just dialled Mello's number. Outside the sky was turning a slightly lighter blue. The birds were starting to sing. The snow was thick and white. He couldn't believe Matt had been walking in it all night.

"Nate," Mello sounded hoarse, deeper than usual and weirdly breathless on the phone. It made Nate feel weird. Sort of tingly. But he was like that with noises sometimes; some noises provoked a sense in him. Usually discomfort. This wasn't discomfort it was… just different.

"Matt is fine," Nate said quickly, his brain screaming at him that Mello just wanted to know about his friend. That was it. "He was wandering through the dark and snow before remembering me. He got into a fight. But he's asleep now."

Mello was quiet, just breathing for a few moments before a quiet, "thank you."

Nate pushed the phone closer to his ear. Mello had a nice voice. It was strong and very low. But animated, not like his or Lawliet's.

"You're welcome." He stared outside, not wanting to hang up, "I am sorry I woke you. Matt woke me and is sleeping in my bed and when I am awake I find it hard to sleep again. I find it hard to sleep."

"Really?" there were sounds of rustling and Nate realised Mello was still in bed, warm and cosy. "I sleep easily. I can sleep anywhere."

"I am jealous."

Soft laughter.

Nate smiled.

"I'll get showered and dressed," Mello yawned, "and then head over to yours. You, um, tempted me. I'll be over soon."

Nate suddenly felt self-conscious and guilty, "do not rush out of bed," he said quickly, "stay in comfort. It is very cold and dark out. And it is early yet."

More quiet laughter, "it's ok. I want to. See you soon."

Nate smiled again, feeling confused. Mello sounded different. He sounded soft and happy. "Ok," Nate said, "good bye and see you soon."

Nate looked at his phone and eventually Mello hung up.

"Who was that?"

He spun round and saw Misa grinning at him.

"My brother?" she asked, "is he feeling better?"

"I think so." Nate felt weirdly embarrassed, "Matt was in a fight last night. He's staying in the bedroom. He's asleep."

Misa nodded as if this news was nothing unusual. "Well, we have the book club later. Sit down and put your feet up, I'll make breakfast."

Misa had this thing where she liked to play make-believe, like a child. As Nate was writing up an essay which mainly involved looking up research papers for research synthesis, Misa was pretending to be his stepford housewife and was cleaning the apartment. She said the place needed a 'ladies touch' which apparently meant a lot of candles and blankets acting as throws. Nate had pointed out that she was buying into sexist norms but she had just laughed and said, 'you're so silly darling,' kissed him on the forehead and swanned into the bedroom waking up Matt. Apparently he was her son in this scenario.

Matt padded out of the room wearing a t-shirt, underpants and a pair of odd socks. "Hey man," he had greeted before slumping onto the couch and turning on the tele to watch cartoons.

"Darling," called Misa from the kitchen where she was dusting the walls for some reason, "don't call daddy 'man'. It's rude."

Matt glanced over at Nate, "I'm not calling you daddy."

"Don't worry," Misa entered the living room having overheard, "Mello's reserved that role."

Both Misa and Matt burst out laughing and Nate put on his ear defenders. He didn't get the joke, but it was ok, he often didn't. And he really wanted to get a thousand words of this essay written.

Mello, freshly washed and dressed, looked through the cupboards for breakfast foods. Lawliet had a pretty unhealthy diet overall, preferring salt and sugar and fat over anything sensible. He was putting peanut butter on thick white bread when Wendy entered the kitchen.

"What are you doing up so early?" she yawned.

"I'm making Lawliet breakfast."

That seemed to wake her up. She stared at her younger brother for a few moments, realising that he was out of bed, washed, dressed and… happy?

"Lawliet isn't here," she said at last.

Mello turned to her slowly, eyes wide in shock, "did he not come home last night?"

Had Light killed Lawliet? Had Lawliet stayed over because they talked all night and fell asleep? Did they have sex?

"He did come home," frowned Wendy, "why is your face like that? Nothing that weird happened. Well, in the context of Lawliet's life anyway. He came home with this guy – very handsome guy I might say – and he, the guy and his sister got chatting all at once and raced out the house to the police station. I think they solved the case."

"Wha-what?" cried Mello, "'Case'? what the hell happened? I was in bed for like, a few days! What case?"

Wendy grinned and put on the kettle.

"Make me a sandwich and I'll tell you all about it."

After informing Mello of what she had witnessed the night before, and Mello recovering slowly from the shock that not only had they allowed the feds in to their home but that Wendy liked the lady cop, he took her to his bedroom and showed her the boxes of books.

"Lawliet bought them in yesterday, before he went on his date," he explained as Wendy stared in awe, "he said they were from when he was a kid and I can have them all. He bequeathed them to me," he laughed quietly.

Wendy had never been a fan of reading herself, school had pretty much ruined books for her, but she knew they were important for Mello.

"You will share with Misa, won't you?"

Mello, instead of scoffing and complaining as she had expected, nodded. "Definitely. I want someone to talk to about what I've read." He began to move around the room, "I was thinking about where to put them…"

As he described his ideas for decorating on the cheap, making spaces for his books, Wendy could only watch in wonder at her brother. He seemed so much calmer and happier. Was this all that was needed? She looked at the books and considered if it was the books themselves or more of what they represented.

"I'll let you do all of that Mello," she said when he'd finally finished, "but…I need you to do something for me. I need you to do well in school. No more fighting, no more craziness. Please, it's only a few months and then you're done with sixth form."

Mello hesitated, "Ok, I will, but after one more fight."

"Mello!"

"No, listen! Matt got hurt. I need to go see him soon. We need to get them back."

Wendy approached her brother and put her hands on his shoulders, "I know I taught you, just like mom did before, to stand up for your friends and to hit someone who hits you. But." She sighed and dropped her head, "this stupid fucking cycle just will not break. Please, please, let this one go. We'll take care of Matt!" Mello was rolling his eyes and looking away and Wendy pleaded, "but please do not retaliate!"

"Let me talk to Matt," he grumbled, his good mood dissipating, "I'll take it from there."

Wendy's shoulders slumped. "Ok sure," she kissed his head in an unusual display of affection, "I just … love you."

"Ew," he laughed, embarrassed and red-faced, "shut up Wendy."

"How long will you be at Matt's?"

"I'm not going to his house. He's at Nate's."

"With Misa?"

"Yeah."

"Is Nate ok with having all of you at his flat?"

"Yeah, he invited me round."

"I need to meet this guy soon." Sure, Lawliet had vouched for him, but she still didn't know this kid.

"Yeah cool," muttered Mello, "I'll be gone all day as he's having his book club later. Then we'll come home with Lawliet, assuming he's done with the police by then."

"You're back in school this Monday, I spoke with Miss Lidner. She wants to see you and Misa before you start."

Mello sighed.

"Don't," chastised Wendy, "she wants what's best for you. She could have kicked you out. Like me when – "

"When you were in year ten," Mello interrupted, "I know."

"Never got any GCSE's," continued Wendy sadly, "even though I was smart enough… probably. Enjoy yourself today. I'm glad you feel better."

"yeah well," he shrugged, "you can read anything you want as well."

"Thanks," she laughed, "but I'll stick to my magazines."

Life was settled and calm at Nate's. He was busy typing away at his essay, ear defenders still on. Matt was still half naked as he read The Model Housewife sprawled across the couch. Misa, after growing bored of playing pretend, was watching a re-run of 'Taggart'.

There was a polite knock on the door, so soft only Misa heard it. She jumped off the chair she was in and skipped to the door. She grinned, seeing her brother, washed and dressed, standing there with a cautious look on his face.

"Why are you wearing a frilly apron?" he asked, frowning at her.

Misa smiled coyly, "no, the question is, why does Nate own this apron?"

Her brother coloured a violent red and she ushered him into the flat, not wanting to know what he was thinking about.

"Everyone is being quiet," she whispered, "so don't come in making a racket, I know what you're like."

"I don't make a racket!" he spat, proving her point.

In the living room the first thing he saw was Nate sitting on a beanbag, laptop balanced on his legs. Around him were sloppy piles of books.

The boy gave each other a look that was a moment too long before they both said, "Hello," at the same time.

They were knocked out of their mutual staring by Misa who suddenly leapt over the back of the couch, damned near smacking her feet into Mello, and lading heavily on the couch.

"Hey!" shouted Mello, "you'll break his chair you fat bitch!"

"Don't even TRY to body shame me!" trilled Misa cheerfully, "my confidence is too high for it to work!"

It was in the process of rolling his eyes that Mello finally noted Matt, "oh hey man. I heard you were here."

Matt smiled before pacing over to Nate (getting between Misa and her line of sight of the tele, so she slapped his butt a few times before he inched away.)

"Hey Nate."

The boy, ear defenders and eyes cartoonishly large, looked up at the red-head.

"I'm going to get a drink," Matt explained, signing a cup-to-mouth sign, "do you," (he pointed at Nate), "want one?"

Nate nodded and bellowed, "HOT CHOCOLATE."

"Ok, no problem dude."

He went to the kitchen and gestured Mello to follow. With one last glance at Nate, Mello obeyed.

"What happened?" he asked as soon as they stepped into the kitchen. It was ridiculous really. The flat was so small Misa could blatantly still hear them. Matt put on the kettle.

"The usual."

"Who was it?"

"It doesn't matter," Matt wanted a cigarette but had none on him. He tapped his fingers anxiously against the side board.

"Of course it matters," hissed Mello, "I'm back in school Monday. We'll get them back."

The tapping became more frantic, even if Matt's facial expression stayed the same. "What if I don't want you too?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Mellow scowled, "you can't be scared of them?"

"I'm not. It's just. What are you doing after sixth form?"

Mello tensed. This was something they never spoke about. Sixth form was coming to an end and they would officially be adults. Both eighteen and no longer in full time education. Mello always secretly wanted to go to university. But it was expensive and now that the moment was coming closer, he was too scared. It was one of those awful feelings of purgatory; of being trapped in two places. On the one hand he worried about his near future often, but on the other he refused to give it any conscious thought at all.

He shrugged with feign nonchalance, "I dunno. A job I guess."

Matt stopped tapping and focused all his energy on looking directly at Mello. "I have a job lined up," he admitted, "working at Game in city centre. It'll be full time once I leave school. I really want… I really want to start my life Mello. I want to have my own money and my own space. It's not going to be easy. I don't want to get expelled from school at the last minute."

"You won't, I'll get them."

Matt shook his head, "and then they'll get me, or my family, as revenge. Then you will get them again. And on and on and on. I don't care anymore. I have a chance to get out."

Mello felt strange. Slightly sick and annoyed. He crossed his arms, "so just let them win?"

The kettle finally boiled and, grabbing four mugs, Matt began making hot chocolate.

"Maybe," he answered as he spooned out the coco powder, "I just think it doesn't matter. I'll let it go this time because I have better stuff to get on with. If that makes them feel big for a couple of weeks fine. But then I'll get out of my fucking parents house, get somewhere to live and if they ever bother me again, I'll call the police."
"The police!" Mello practically shrieked, "like a snitch!"

"Like a normal person," sighed Matt, turning around and facing Mello, "look I can't… I can't explain it properly. I tried thinking this through before because you always convince me to do stuff I don't want to do. Don't pull that face Mello, I didn't mean that hurtfully. You're my best friend. My best friend and we always will be. But I want to live a different life now. And this may be my only chance."

"What?" Mello was embarrassed by the tears in his eyes, "working in some shitty chainstore earning minimum wage? What kind of flat can you get on that? It's ridiculous."

Matt looked stung but shrugged, getting milk out of the tiny fridge and adding it to the hot chocolates.

"I know I'm stupid," he muttered after a moment, "but you can do anything. I can't."

"You're not stupid!"

"You just said I was."

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did."

Misa arrived suddenly. "Hey, Matt, Nate wants his drink."

Matt barrelled past her, carrying a mug in each hand. Misa took his place, folding her arms and glaring at Mello.

"Really?"

"Oh fuck off Misa."

"Grow up Mello!" she argued before taking a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. "Look, let's go for a walk."

"What?"

"Just, please?"

He stared for a moment. What a bizarre request. But he eventually spat out a resentful, "fine."

They stalked past the two boys in the living room, barrelled down the yellowed and stained stairs of Nate's high-rise building, and stamped across the hardened snow outside. The cold air whipped around them. The area was ugly. All buildings thrown up in the 1980s. Big concrete blocks with no greenery. The angry buzzing in his head continued as they walked quickly and without a goal. Their hands shoved in the pockets of their too thin coats. Mello was angry with himself. He always said the wrong thing. He always hurt the people he cared about: Misa, Wendy, Matt. Maybe it would be better if he never bothered any of them again. If he just got on a bus one day and went far, far away. They'd be sad but their lives would improve because they wouldn't have this spiteful little goblin in their lives anymore.

They turned a corner and began walking towards a local park. Not a park for kids, but a place where there were some trees and grass. But not now because it was winter. So it was just an area of snow.

Misa walked ahead suddenly, sitting down on a bench.

He copied her.

They shivered in silence. It was far too cold. There was nothing to look at. Mellow wished he lived somewhere warm.

"I chose the book," Misa began randomly, "because we all do stuff that's wrong."

"What?"

"The book. The Model Housewife. I know it's not the smartest book but it's the best I could come up with on the spot. Everyone in it get's it wrong. It's ok to get things wrong. The point is what you make of yourself afterwards."

"It was badly written," he complained.

Misa allowed a pause before, "that's not the point I'm making." She wrapped the coat tighteer around her body. He sighed, taking off his scarf and giving it to her, which she accepted with a small smile. "I know why you got angry," she continued, "same reason I did at the first Book Club. Because it's embarrassing when someone tells you to be mature. That you're acting like a child. It makes you feel stupid."

"It's not just that. He was acting like I'm a bad friend but I want to help him. Getting those bastards back so they stop hassling him."

"And he wants you to not do that because he wants to be more mature."

"By calling the police? How is that any better?"

"No one in our community would like it but…" she shrugged, "I think he doesn't want to be part of the community."

"We're not a bad lot."

"No but… you can choose to stay with them but leave at any time. He's got one chance."

"I don't know what you mean?" wailed Mello, kicking some snow beneath his feet.

"If you ever get bored, you can just take all your GCSEs and do something else. You can! He can't."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"No I don't."

Misa let out a frustrated sigh, "because you are smarter than me and Wendy and Matt. And you damned well know it. You can go to uni, if you feel like it, you can get a job if you want."

Mellow jumped off the bench, furious, "you idiots act like education is a saviour. It's not! Most people never end up leaving the class of their parents. Our family is poor and we will likely be poor. Employers in tech or education industries go for people with a certain 'polish'. They go for posh kids. Look at our actors, how many of them are working class? What about our politicians? People on the TV? Look at CEOs and people in the highest positions. A fucking moron who's rich can become prime minister. Education is a bullshit lie to keep the working class trapped in this fucking fantasy that if we listen and if we obey and become good little servants to authority that one day we will be valued. But that doesn't happen."

"Then play the game!" Misa practically screamed, "you can't do anything by ranting at me in the park! Go to university! Get a decent job and change our society! You can do it because you're smart enough to know the rules and to know how to get around them! I cannot! Matt cannot! We're stuck! Just," she let out a frustrated growl, "you're not the only one who suffers, ok? Other people have it hard for other reasons. But we can still make it. Ask Nate for help if you want, how to get into university. Or if you don't, think of something else. But you can't keep pretending that us growing up isn't happening. Those idiots that beat Matt up yesterday? That's what they're doing. They'll be fifty and still living in the same area, going to the same pubs, and beating the shit out of anyone who is different. Their lives will never change. And neither will yours if you let it. But, don't shit on Matt for trying to change, for realising he needs to do something different. I know you're scared, but it's not fair."

Mello put his hands over his face to hide the angry hot tears spilling over. His fingertips were freezing and in pain. He felt his sister hugging him tightly.

"Are you scared to fail?" she whispered, "that even if you do everything right they'll hear your accent you won't make it?"

He nodded, unsure if she could even see him.

"We're all scared," she said, "I'm scared. Matt's scared. Nate's scared. All of us."

Mello put his hands down and rubbed his eyes angrily. Misa's face was buried in his shoulder. Looking up at the paper white sky, Mello thought of the books back home. Of the joy they bought.

"We have friends now," he said, his voice wobbly with tears, "we have friends and acquaintances to ask for help and advice."

"Yeah, maybe we should stop being too proud to ask."

"Because we're all scared and all get things wrong?"

Misa sighed happily, "exactly."