Author's Note [Kaila] Let's give Jessi mad props for writing the Ken part. I went through and added occasional details about the characters, but all the credit shall be directed in her general direction. I have this thing about description. Sorry it's been so long since we've updated. I've been out boarding and playing roller hockey, Jes has been doing homework… Enough said. And if there's any religious people out there, could you perhaps add a good friend of mine, Cub, to your prayers? He's in a tight situation and needs all the help he can get. Onward!

Disclaimer- If Disney doesn't own them, we don't either, for they probably belong to themselves. CP's (Cubby Prodigies), my group of friends, have rights to Wendy's nights. Sue and I won't give you my new shaft. Too bad.

~*~

Ken Wu sighed as he flipped through We looking for the quote about the yellow room.  'Dammit' he thought, futilely re-flipping through the book.  The page in front of him was scratched with the scrawl of black ink.  

"Kenny Wu, what the hell are you doing?" A tall, sturdy brunette interjected his thoughts.  Jordan McChesney wasn't that bad of a roommate, just never really around unless he was playing music and talking to people online. From what he heard Jordan was a bit of a lady's man. He supposed he was good looking, mind you that was if Ken was a female. He had thick dark brown hair that fell moppily into his deep chocolate eyes. He was tall and verging on muscular, but not toned. When he wasn't hanging off anything with two X chromosomes he was kayaking, skiing or rock climbing (he and his group of friends liked to make long road trips east to the decent garbage hills, wait mountains, which may have explained his grades), definitely not doing anything the least bit studious. He was the only senior Ken knew that had 4 credits out of a necessary 25 to graduate. He'd definitely be a great super-super-super senior. The only thing that really bothered him about Jordan was that he still called him Kenny, just like everyone else he knew, for Christ's sake he was eighteen in a month.

"I'm writing my essay for English class," he sighed leaning back into the plush of his rolling chair.

"But, but-" he spluttered in shock, "its Friday."

"So? That leaves tomorrow and Sunday to have fun," Ken responded monotonously, not taking his eyes up from the novel.

"No, that leaves tomorrow to do more work and Sunday to do more because everyone else is doing theirs," he plucked the reddish paperback out of the Asian's hand, "We? Who name's their book We?"

"Obviously the Russian dude who wrote it."

"Whatever dude, Alliy, Linds, Jeromy, me and some other friends are going out to Wendy's, wanna come with?" he offered.

"Naw I want to finish my essay, maybe next time."

"You're missing out on quality fries for school.  Take a break sometime k?"

"Sure," he responded in the same melodramatic tone. Jordan gazed at him, confused yet not surprised with his roommate's studious tendencies, and then quickly around the contrasting room before turning around.

He heard the door shut behind Jordan

…In the novel We, by Yevgeny Zamyatin, the freedom D-503 comes to enjoy is symbolized in several ways...

The door opened again.

"Kenneth Jun Wu, don't make me tear up what goddamn homework your doing," a females voice threatened satirically.

"Hallie," he acknowledged still scribbling on the lined paper, knowing the raven-haired girl was standing above his desk.

"Wu, I'm taking you to a place you've never gone before.  It might be scary for you being outside of the school, but it's good for you.  Have you ever heard of a place called the Movie Theatre?" she babied taking his arm and attempting to pull him out of his chair snapping her friend from his trance.

"What movie?" he asked the wife beater clad girl.

"Dunno, if there isn't anything good we'll figure something else out."

"What's the point of futilely going to the movie theatres?" he groaned in response.

"Fun, Wu, sometimes I wonder about your Asianness.  I think it has to be some kind of defect," she rolled her crystal blue eyes.

"Racist," he grinned.

"Duh.  You are below me slave.  Come on!"

He followed her out his door, the book abandoned on the paper littered desk.

~*~

Connie sat nervously picking at the chipped lavender polish that adorned her fingernails. The only sounds that filled the old 92' black Cadillac were the soft tones of REM's 'Losing My Religion' that came fuzzily through the small radio, and the typical echoes and hums that came from vehicles speeding down the highway. She glanced quickly over at Chris, palms sweaty with anticipation and a sense of timid ness. His eyes were fixated unnaturally on the road.

"Um, sorry but where are we going again?" she finally was able to softly speak up, her voice cracking.

"Oh, Overbey's having some people over, mostly hockey guys, some of them might bring some chicks, I don't think anyone will crash it, we're usually low key guys," he shrugged, biting his lip.

"Awesome," she mumbled trying to start a conversation in an attempt to break the thick and smothering tense silence.  "Where does he live?"

"Littleton, over near Columbine and Chatfield."

"Oh…" her voice faded as her eyes drifted away from Chris's tense form to out the dirt-encrusted window, as they drove towards the sun setting behind the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains. Pink and orange bursts flooded the azure sky and reflected off the wispy clouds that sat perched on the snowy peaks. The brilliant display of light and colour quickly faded and danced behind the mountains a sliver of gold light escaped and illuminated the now cobalt sky. The sunsets in Minnesota weren't this stunning, she thought silently to herself. Her astonishment erased all the doubts she had of going to the party, her bashfulness of driving across town alone with Chris and made her oblivious to the still deafening silence in the car.

~*~

Author's Note 2- Sorry this is short and poorly written. I had to do my friend's Bio as I wrote this, namely because they wrote a couple Lit papers for me. The gives and takes of relationships. Anyway this story doesn't have a set plot, or set structure. It's more or less a documentation of the kids' grade 12 year. There's slash, suicide, love triangles, pranks, school stress, drugs, the whole nine yards and the basic story of the life of any 17-18 year old high school student. Sorry if that makes it confusing I know because most of the chapters have all occurred on this same Friday night and we flood in and out of ideas. Thanks for putting up with us.