A/N: OKAY! I'm sorry. I lied. This is not the hot chapter. I had all of chapter six mapped out. It was to include both Thursday and Friday, which meant the whole party as well. I had planned on the party being 2000 words or so, and everything before that being...oh, 800 words or so. Um, then I started writing and I realized that already, Thursday/before-the-party-Friday were 1700 words. So basically this and the next chapter (which will be done soon...hopefully?) fit together as one. I just don't want to have all these 1500-word chapters and then all of a sudden one is 5000 words. Okay, okay, I'm very number-conscious. Sorry. Read on and I guess, enjoy, but since this is sort of an intro--nevermind. Just read and review accordingly. Thanks.

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I never talked to him about it. I didn't understand that sort of thing. I'd never had a friend I gave a fuck enough about to confront him about his or whatever. I mean, who wants that anyway? If someone like Towerz said something about my smoking, besides being initially pissed off that he would think it was a problem at all, I'd just be overall offended as hell, like he thought I couldn't handle my own problems. That was it. We all just had to handle our own shit, carry our own weight. And if someone was falling behind, you just let him. When did the world come up with this crazy help one another' idea? It was all complete bull. You live, you do whatever you have to do, you die. You can live without companionship.

Thursday morning was silence. Thursday afternoon was silence. Just when I was finally getting used to talking to another person at home--not myself or the television, he just starts...moping around the house, like this big woe is me' act that I was not buying at all. Jesus, what a drama queen.

But I had to admit, whatever the point of his silence was, it was impacting me more than I thought it could, whether he meant to or not. The TV was off, the radio was off, he wasn't talking to me, the room was silent, the walls were silent, all around me was silence and it was like I'd suddenly gone deaf, or the world had ended but I didn't care enough about the world outside my walls to go check. Or I just felt like a prisoner to my household, like Sean and I were jailmates and they had taken away every last form of entertainment, so we just waited here. Waited and waited until we died and rotted in the very same spots we refused to move from. It just seemed like every time I turned around, there was Sean, napping on the couch like some baby who requires twenty hours of sleep per day. By nighttime, I was being driven insane, and it felt like wave the white flag or die under the pressure. I was ready to call truce when the TV flickered on. And I looked over from my chair in the kitchen and there was Sean, half-lidded eyes watching some moronic kids' cartoon as he leaned his head back and popped a couple of Mike and Ike's into his mouth. It was like he had no idea of the mental strife I'd been going through in the past few hours. He just slept, slept like only an oblivious child could when the storm of the century is brewing outside his window.

Now believing I was suffering from severe exhaustion (both mental and physical, but it was the physical part I cared about), I headed off to bed early that night.

Friday morning was back to the normal breakfast small talk. Suddenly, though, we'd reverted to the business-only ways. There were no comments about the cereal or school or friends or Sean's alcoholism or the weather. Every comment was pertinent and on a need-to-know basis. It was like we were angry at each other, but had no idea why.

Can you take me to the party around 7?

I paused and shoveled more Lucky Charms in my mouth. Pick-up time?







Pause. Pick up and take home Ash?

Yeah. Sure. Pause.

Taking me home after school?



There was a longer pause.

When are you leaving? I finally asked. Though there were five hundred other more tactful ways to phrase that sentence, I didn't have the time for that kind of strategizing. His spoon, dripping with milk, fell to the floor.

Aggravated, I bent over and picked up his spoon, and threw it back down to its spot.

My house. When are you leaving? I asked it as if it were a reasonable question, but it really wasn't. After all, I was the jackass who never set limits on this. Jesus, I was so jaded last week, too blinded by my sick little obsession to see that Sean was planning on being a complete freeloader.

You want the truth? he asked sullenly. I figured that was a rhetorical question. I mean, what kind of moron actually asks that sort of thing? I narrowed my eyes.

No, tell me a fucking lie, I said cynically. It didn't matter much to me, because no matter what he said, I was throwing him out tomorrow. I don't care if he has to go live out in the alleyway or if he runs all the way to BC, as long as I didn't have to put up with him. I live in this house by myself. I buy what I need. I'm not prepared to buy the essentials for two people. I hate him eating all my cereal and all my candy, and using my soap and borrowing my hats and hogging the TV. But what I hated most was not being myself. I can't believe myself around this guy. I can't just sprawl out across the couch or sit at a chair when I eat my breakfast or watch any porn or talk to myself or do anything I had liked to do when I was all alone, in my own, private apartment. Now it was just like any other public place--I had to look a certain way, act a certain way. I hated this. I don't DO pretending.

Until Sunday. I shoveled more Lucky Charms in my mouth and looked up at the crack in the ceiling that often dripped when it stormed outside. I looked outside, and it was sunny.



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Without classes to go to, I find school is unbearable. At least when you're in a class, you can laugh at the teacher, or see how many rules you can break before the teacher sends you to Raditch. Never was really scared of Raditch. Always just saw him as Mr. Clueless Authority Figure. Never was really scared of authority. People controlling other people, that's what authority was. If everyone were truly honest-to-god equal, then why the hell would we have leaders who tell us what to do? That was always one of my major...things. Like, what I looked for in friends, people to join the crew.' Independence. You can hate yourself as much as you want, but as long as you're not sitting around and letting other people make your decisions for you, then you'll survive. Towerz doesn't seem it, but he's majorly fucking independent. Not a lot of pride or dignity, but he takes care of himself. Mostly cause he's got some insane trust issues, cause his dad beat him and his mom was this cokehead, took money straight from his college savings to feed her addiction. He's like the man of the house now, taking care of his two younger brothers. I don't know the details, I never really asked and I don't go over there often. My life pales in comparison to what he's gone through. Makes me feel like my life is a sham and I've just been pretending like I've seen the darker side of life when all I had to deal with was a slightly-insane mother all my life.

Before I could analyze my life any further, the bell rang for dismissal. I sat, leaning against my locker and wishing Sean would hurry up. He finally excited as the last person out of the MI lab. He saw me and I nodded towards the parking lot. He looked frustrated and put up his index finger, then turned around and walked quickly in the opposite direction. I sat back down. Sitting, waiting. I hated waiting for Sean. I hated him ignoring me. I hated him having a social life that didn't involve me. I hated how we were still friends, how he'd never mentioned not wanting to be friends despite having all these freshmen friends now. It all just bugged the hell out of me. I started to wonder if there was anything he did that didn't bug me. He returned after a few minutes, after the hallway had started to empty as people made their way home.

What was that all about? I asked, trying to remain indifferent (as usual), as we made our way to my car.

Just...had to say bye to Ash, he responded nonchalantly. I didn't understand. Why what? Why did I care? Why was I asking? The is she your girlfriend now comment was on the tip of my tongue.

Just wondering what was so important that you had to do hold me up all this time for it.

Yeah, all of five minutes, Jay, he said, rolling his eyes. Big time-waster. Sadly, I really didn't have anything to say to that. We got to our respective sides of the car and got in. I started the ignition and was backing up out of the parking lot when he startled me with a question, in his classic whiny/frustrated voice. Are you dropping Ash and me off at the party, or what?

I said firmly. I'm driving you there. He shook his head.

What's the difference?

'Dropping you off' implies I'm leaving right away. Driving you' impli...

Jay, you're not staying at this party, he cut me off. It's an underclassmen thing only.

Then they'll need me, after they realize how horribly lame the party is, I said, grimacing over at him. He bites his lower lip in frustration, I can see in my peripheral vision. It stays like that for the few minute car ride. It was like he was just waiting for the car to be in park to snap at me.

I'm serious, Jay. You're not going to this. I looked over at him, with his big, scary, face. I couldn't help but laugh at that.

What are you gonna do about it? I asked, grinning. I knew he wasn't above kicking my ass into the ground, but I was ready for him today. Hadn't had a good brawl in a while, actually. He sighed in frustration and slammed the door on his way out. I sat and basked in my small victory. Winning over Sean was nice. It was like I finally had control over him.

I was beginning to understand this whole authority' thing...

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A/N: Review. I DEMAND. Or, you know, don't. As long as you're enjoying this, I'm happy. Woo.