Andrew Clark looked around his dad's truck and his arm instantly raised and felt the space where his latest patch had been before Allison had ripped it off. Allison... Andrew knew that she was the last person in the world that he would ever actually end up dating in high school. The last time they tried it, they had both failed miserably. Andrew knew that he wasn't able to be a good boyfriend. He didn't know how to be. He had never taken the time to learn how to be a good boyfriend. In between taking care of his little sister, keeping his dad in check, and all of the wrestling, he had never taken the time to really get involved. Which is why being popular almost struck Andrew as ironic. He didn't ever do anything to be popular. All he did was wrestle. But that letter jacket had earned him a spot in Shermer High's in crowd. But Andrew wasn't sure how much longer he actually wanted to be involved in the in-crowd.

As the red pick up truck pulled in to the driveway, Andrew hopped out, his feet hitting the ground with a resonating slap. Without looking at his dad, he walked inside and up to his room, shutting the door, hoping for once that his dad would get the message and leave him alone. But sadly, his dad was as dense as ever, and just as Andrew had lay down to begin thinking about exactly what had happened that day, he heard the familiar pounding knock on his door. He didn't say anything, and his father barged right in anyway.

"So how'd it go?"

"How do you think it went, pop?"

"Hey, don't give me that lip. You're lucky I was able to get you detention instead of suspension. You want to miss state and blow your ride?"

Andrews's father crossed across the faded carpet and stood, looming over his son's bed. He stared Andrew straight in the face.

"You hear me? You keep acting like some little retard and you're gonna blow your ride and everything we've worked for the past ten years. And I'm not gonna let that happen. I've sacrificed a lot for you- this whole damn family has, and we're not about to see you blow it because you got it into your head to keep acting like a fucking discipline case. So you just straighten up and get back on track, boy."

Andrew looked up in to the face of a man he hardly knew anymore. He remembered when he was little and he used to sit on his dads shoulders, thinking how cool his dad was. But the guy that Andrew used to love didn't exist anymore. The only thing left was a sorry has-been who drinks way too much and doesn't do anything for his family but yell. And Andrew knew it, and his dad did too. Andrew knew that he should stand up and yell back at his father- tell him exactly how much wrestling was hurting his life, show his dad exactly how much he had to sacrifice just to please him. But he also knew that he couldn't do that. Doing that would ruin his dad, and Andrew didn't want to do that. As much as he hated him, he didn't want to do that.

When Andrews's dad left and shut the door, Andrew picked up his phone and sat down on his bed. He held the phone loosely in his hand and looked around at his room, seeing something he hadn't ever seen before. Suddenly the pictures of blonde supermodels that hung on his wall were disgusting. His bed, a four post bed with a plaid flannel cover and a place that usually held the most comfort, looked worn and tattered. Even the teddy bear he got when he was 7 from his first girlfriend on their one day anniversary looked stupid and out of place. Suddenly Andrew knew that he couldn't stand being in that room anymore. He put the phone back in its charger and grabbed another sweat coat from his closet. He ran down the stairs and slammed the door. He was halfway down the block before he heard his mom come out and call his name.

Andrew stopped running about three blocks away from his house. He didn't know where he was going to go. He didn't have a lot of options. Stubby was hung over, he couldn't go home, Claire didn't want to see him, and he didn't even know where Allison lived. Andrew shoved his hands deep in to his pockets and began to walk, his head down, watching as the shadows beneath his feet lengthened. The next time he looked up, Andrew knew that he had walked too far.

The terrain that surrounded him was familiarly strange. He had driven through the slums of Shermer before, but never actually walked through them. He was always afraid of them, of the people that lived in them.

'Of the people like John ', he thought to himself.

Andrew began to walk the way he thought he had come, but ended up taking too many wrong turns, until he was deep in to the heart of the ghetto. He looked around him and saw a trailer park and a set of trashy apartments. H saw fires in trash cans and teenage girls passed out on stoops and curbs. Somewhere in the distance he heard a baby cry. For the first time in a very long time, Andrew felt extremely lost and scared. He began to walk again, this time towards the trailer park, hoping to use their phone, when a glimpse of bright red hair caught his eye. He did a double take and was surprised to find Claire walking arm and arm with Bender towards the set of apartments in front of the trailer park. Andrew began to follow them up three flights of stairs and down the hall. Just as he was about make himself known, Bender turned and lunged at him, his switchblade pressed to his throat. Andrew screamed.

"SHH!!! Shut up," Bender backed off, realizing who it was, and threw Andrew a glance that meant shut up or I really will kill you.

"What the hell, Bender?"

"What the hell to you, Sporto? Why the fuck are you following us, and what the hell are you doing at my apartment."

"I...I got lost."

"You got lost? What the hell do you mean you got lost? You're not a little kid, how do you get lost?"

"I just started walking. I wasn't looking where I was going and I ended up here. I was just about to go ask the trailer park owner to let me use his phone when I saw the two of you and thought I'd say hi."

"Well...hi. You can't use Pete's phone. He hasn't had one since he sold it to get dope money. But I'll tell you what, how about you hang with us tonight?"

"Sure. What are you guys planning on doing?"

"Do you really fucking care?"

Andrew laughed and shook his head, "No, not really. Just as long as I don't have to go home."

Claire looked at him, friendly concern filling her eyes, "Why? What happened?"

"Long story. So what are you guys doing?"

"John just has to get some stuff from his room and then we're gonna go find someplace to hang out."

"Wait...what kind of stuff?"

Bender just turned around and winked at him before opening the door slowly and creeping inside. Andrew was getting ready to follow when John motioned no. Bender closed the door quickly and his footsteps retreated to what sounded like the very back of the apartment. Claire and Andrew waited in a comfortable silence that surprised Andrew. It was only another five or ten minutes before Andrew and Claire heard a loud bang come from the apartment, a bang that sounded a lot like a gun shot. Bender came out of silently, looking shocked and afraid. He turned quickly and walked without speaking. Andrew and Claire followed him and they walked for about a mile without speaking. Andrew spoke first.

"Hey Bender, what the hell happened back there? What was that noise? What happened to your ear? What the fuck is going on, man?"

Bender stopped and looked at Andrew. Andrew could see his face streaked with tears. His face turned red with anger that wasn't really directed towards Andrew.

"I'll tell you what happened. My dad is a fucking lunatic. That's what happened. You see my ear? That's where my dad ripped out an earring. He pulled it right through my fucking skin. And you want to know what that loud bang was? Alright fine. When I went back in to my apartment, my shoes squeaked on the tile in our kitchen and my dad woke up. I don't know how he did- he was drunker than hell and passed out. Or at least, that's what I thought. Apparently not. Well, my dad hates being woken up. So he fucking took his semi-automatic .22 and shot my dog Trixie in the back of the fucking head while she slept. Blew her fucking brains out all over my mom's new bedroom carpet. He's still got the blood on his shirt. And then he just went and lay back down like he didn't do a damn thing. I've had that dog since I was fucking three years old. And he shot her like he was shooting tin cans. That's what that sound was. Like I said my dad's one sick fuck."

Andrew and Claire just looked at Bender, amazed at the story he had just told them. Claire moved towards Bender, starting to embrace him. But he pushed her off and slapped her.

"Don't fucking touch me. I don't' need your pity, Princess. Why don't you go hug Sporto or find Brainiac, someone who really needs you, because as much as I'd love to fuck another girl who doesn't matter, I really don't have time right now to deal with that, or with you, or with any of your shit. So thank you, but fuck you. And Sporto, so glad you join us on this lovely night. But go home and wack off to a wrestling video or something."

And with that Bender turned on his heal and began to walk quickly down the street, turning the corner and leaving Andrew and Claire standing in amazement. Claire turned and looked at Andrew, tears welling up in her eyes, her cheek turning red from the slap.

"What are you looking at me for? What the hell can I do?"

"You can help me look for him, Andrew. He needs us now, as much as he says he doesn't."

Claire wiped her cheeks and began to walk after Bender. Andrew stood in place a few more minutes before following the both of them. Andrew knew Claire was right and that they needed to find Bender before he did something stupid to himself or someone else. But Andrew also knew that nothing they could do would ever help Bender. At this point Bender couldn't even help himself.