When he closed the door to his locker on Friday, for the last time, TJ wanted to get out and away from school, as per usual. He was planning on going to a antique shop that always had a rusty knife or tw, and after everything that's been happening, he needed to the calm quietness that came with restoring them to their former glory.

He did not expect Vince and Spinelli to be standing next to his locker, as if they haven't been following him around for the last few days.

After a deep breath, he was calm enough to not yell at them in the middle of the hallway.

"What," he exhaled. "Do you want?"

"So it's Friday, man. What are you doing this weekend?" Vince asked. All casually, as if they were friends.

"Minding my own business," he said. "Maybe you should do the same."

"C'mon, Teej-"

"Don't call me that."

"It's been forever since we all hung out like we used to. Would one weekend with us kill you?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Well that's too goddamn bad, because we're coming along, whether you like it or not," Spinelli snapped.

That's how he ended up walking down the street with the two of them following close. TJ was hoping that they would get bored and give up on the way to the antique shop, but no. They kept trying to start a conversation, and each time, he would shoot down their attempts with a one word answer.

"You can at least tell us where we're going," Spinelli groaned.

"Here." He stopped in front of an antique shop and went inside. The place was clean but how worn out things were, it felt as if there should be a thin layer of dust on every surface. They followed him as he walked through the thin aisle, careful not to knock anything over.

What he wanted from an old antique shop, the two of them didn't have a clue. But he seemed to know where he was going, not stopping to look at anything. Until he reached the back of the store. It was piled high with old pots, pans, and utensils.

And knives. They noticed those as soon as TJ picked one up and looked it over. The old thing was worn out and rusty, just like the rest of them.

"He's not gonna, you know, with that thing is he?" Vince whispered. "That things all rusty, he'd get an infection or something." Spinelli shrugged.

ZZZ

'This one needs a new handle.'

TJ turned over he knife for a better look. That was fine, he still had some wood to work with in the garage. He picked up a few more rusted knives and turned to go the counter. He saw Vince and Spinelli act like they weren't thinking about what he might do with those knives, but he countered by acting like they weren't there.

Old knives ran cheap, only a few dollars each for something he could restore and get a nice price for. He heard the two of them whisper behind him, about him. They continued to follow him all the way home. They were persistent, he gave them that.

What he didn't want to give them the chance to come into the house, but they barged right on in as he stepped through the front door, Spinelli with no shame and Vince, wishing that his girlfriend had a little more subtly. TJ just rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen.

His unwanted guests watched from the doorway as he grabbed what he needed from under the kitchen sink. A small tub, bottle, some weird rectangular stones, and sat them and the rusty knives at the table before sitting at the small kitchen table.

"If you're gonna be up my ass all day can you at least sit down You standing there is gonna distract me and I'd rather not be while I'm doing this," said TJ. He placed one of the three knives in the tub, one that didn't need it's handle replaced, and poured the rust removal formula over the blade.

"So, what are you doing?" Vince asked. He and Spinelli sat on the opposite side of the table.

"Restoring these," He said, beginning to scrub way at the rust. The foam was tinted a slight orange-red from the rust coming off. Whatever came in that bottle, it worked miracles.

Fortunately, they sat in silence as TJ scrubbed away until the true surface of the knife was free from the layer of rust. After rinsing and drying it off, he began rubbing it against one of the rectangular stones.

Vince and Spinelli didn't know what to do in the uncomfortable silence between them. TJ looked like he was too focused on what he was doing to talk, and they didn't know what to even try to start a conversation about. Any attempts were cut short with a brief answer.

"So. . . when did you start restoring knives?"

"4 years ago."

"Do your parents know you do this?"

"Yeah."

"What do you do with them?"

"Sell them."

After that, they stopped trying. Soon, the sun was dipping under the horizon, and the two of them were dozing off. It was only the sound of a chair scratching against the floor that woke them up. Laying on the table was the knife, now clean, shiny, and perfectly sharp, while TJ was washing his hands at the kitchen sink.

"Be careful with it," He said as Vince picked it up. "It slices through anything without much pressure."

"I could use one of these when I'm cooking," Vince said, turning it over. The blades surface was smooth, reflective, and flawless. Spinelli nudged him. "What?"

"So who do you sell these to?" She asked.

"I know some people," he said. A vague answer was all they were going to get. Grabbing a case from under the kitchen sink, he placed it inside the foam lined case and locked it. "Can you leave now? It's late and I'm going upstairs."

"To what, cut yourself up some more?" She snapped. He knew Spinelli was bold, but her comment, well, that made him chuckle.

"Not tonight," TJ said. "I'm too tired. Maybe tomorrow. Can you leave, now?"

"Fine, whatever. But we're not done," Spinelli said. She and Vince left, and, finally, TJ was had the house to himself. But he wasn't lying about being tired, plus he wasn't in the mood to entertain himself.