Bumlet's POV

There is something truly wonderful about hair dye. Seriously, if my mother wouldn't scalp me, my hair would change colors monthly. So, theoretically, I suppose you could say that I was living vicariously through Swifty.

I went into my room to get my comb, arms laden with clear plastic gloves, a packet of bleach and hair selections in 'strawberry fields', 'ghoulish grape' and 'blueberry hills'.

"This hair dye is making me hungry," Snoddy remarked upon seeing the titles.

I laughed and then noticed, for once, he and Jake weren't together. In fact, Jake was slumped on the floor looking mopey.

"What's wrong with your boyfriend?"

Snoddy shrugged. "He started getting all emo on the bus ride here."

"I remembered that I have a test tomorrow on the Civil War and I don't know shite about it."

I offered him a sympathetic look because I figured that no one else would; Swifty was waiting for me in the bathroom—did that sound dirty to anyone else?—while Pie was Pie and Itey was in he kitchen calling his mother.

"I am considering holing up in the Empire State Building with a gun and shooting whomever I see. Isn't that what they do in New York?"

"Yes," I said. "Every citizen is guaranteed one day up in a watch tower, blowing up hapless pedestrians. It's in our Constitution."

"Doesn't surprise me. Bloodthirsty Colonials."

Pie poked his head—in that revolting, green knit cap—up and looked directly at Jake.

"All of Seitz's tests are the same. One is 'E', two is 'K'…"

Jake, Snoddy and I exchanged a triumvirate of surprised looks.

"So," I said. "You can talk."

Pie shrugged and lowered his head.

"Thanks, mate," Jake said with a grin. "When I'm sniping people, I'll spare you."

Pie's mouth twisted in what could have been a smile. Remembering my reason for being there, I grabbed my comb, told them to make themselves at home and went to do Swifty's hair.

I found him sitting almost daintily on the toilet, a look of anxiety on his face. I took in his outfit and sighed.

"You don't mind if I get bleach on your shirt, do you?"

"Yes! Darren Hayes signed it!"

I put my clutch on the counter and got a grubby, old towel out of the linen closet.

"Here." I tossed it to him. "Shirt off, towel on."

Blank look. I could almost hear the crickets in his head.

"Take off your precious Savage Garden shirt and wrap this around your shoulders," I clarified.

He obliged and my heart leapt into my throat. His chest was defined and strong-looking and made my stomach twist in a way that wasn't at all familiar or explainable. I hadn't been paying attention at the pool but, wow, he had a nice body…objectively speaking of course.

"Okay, I take it back. Sports don't seem like such a bad idea."

Swifty laughed and slipped the towel around his shoulders.

"Let's get down to business!" he sang. "To defeat…the Huns!"

I snorted in laughter. "You're so Asian."

--

Swifty's POV

Define yellow. I looked yellow up in a thesaurus and got: buttery, golden, flaxen, Asian (I really did, what the hell?) fair, blonde and warm. While they're all good words, none can describe my hair. My hair is yellow.

I refused all the colors Bumlets forced on me and ended up just getting bleached. But it ended up being far worse. It was solid yellow. So blonde it was white. To add insult to injury, Bumlets scooped up some hair goop up from somewhere secreted in his bathroom cabinets, and made the front stick up and back so I looked not unlike a rooster.

I looked at his hair with renewed jealousy. He looked like a Disney hero: Aladdin or Prince Eric.

"You know, I like it."

"Of course you do. It's not your hair."

Bumlets tossed his head back in laughter.

"My scalp's burning," I remarked dourly.

He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "It'll look better when the roots grow in."

"Great," I deadpanned. "But until then, do you have a hat?"

"No, but I'm sure that Pie does."

"…On second thought, my hair's not that bad."

"That's the spirit, Ben!"

I put my shirt back on and followed Bumlets back into my room, feeling slightly above miserable.

Itey was doing his homework, bent over his book and scribbling feverishly. Pie looked like he hadn't moved since we got here while Jake and Snoddy snuggled on the floor, looking like an advertisement for true love. Then Itey looked up.

"Holy Sassy molassy!" he exclaimed before dissolving into incoherent Italian.

"'Sassy molassy'?" Jake queried. "What?"

I breathed a sigh of relief. Itey's choice of words veered attention away from the glowing sun sitting atop my head.

"I love how you people say 'what,'" Bumlets remarked.

Jake cocked a brow. "You people? You mean the English?"

"Sure."

"Well, we've been around longer."

"Not true. And we saved your ass in World War II."

"So? We gave you The Beatles and The Stones and pretty much every band with merit in the sixties."

"Touché," he remarked. "Okay, Brits win. But we, at least, got The Doors."

They laughed and I noticed that Bumlets considered himself American and not Argentinean. Perhaps for the best since he claimed to not be able to speak a word of Spanish.

I was sitting down when Pie finally lifted his head and blinked at me a few times. He looked distressed, shaking and whatnot.

"Look at him!"

And I decided it's never good when Pie manages to speak.

--

Itey's POV

I just wrote Aurel Bogdan's name over one hundred times in my notebook. It took about a half hour and then it took another half hour to black them out. It wasn't like I had a crush. One, he was a boy. Two, he was a Popular!

But he was so pretty…for a guy. And he had a cool name without it being weird. Besides guys don't like guys. Not like I would know. It's not like I had ever liked anyone, male for female. I was starting to believe I was an asexual. Maybe I was. Maybe I was just appreciative of a Popular.

God, I feel like Molly Ringwald…but not in that way.

"What's mitosis?"

I was jolted from my incongruous thoughts to find myself in second period. Biology. With Aurel.

"Itey?"

He remembered my name…well, the one I told him. And he was talking to me.

"What?" I shook my head. "Mitosis is dividing cells, uh, cells dividing."

He smiled with those stellar teeth.

"Thanks. Hey, you're European, right?"

"Yeah, Italian."

"Romanian."

I nodded and maybe it was because talking to him emboldened me because that would be the only explanation.

"How come you're talking to me?" I immediately regretted asking for it.

But Aurel laughed. "Because I suck at bio and you seem to know all of the answers."

I snorted a laugh of my own. "Oh. You don't care that I'm beneath you?"

"Why should social standing deem who I can and can't talk to?" he asked, quirking one of those wonderfully thick eyebrows.

"It's high school."

He laughed again. I liked his laugh. No, I didn't have a crush.

"So—" He was cut off by our fascist, anti-Christ bio teacher, Mr. Wiesel.

"Mr. Bogdan, Mr. Spinelli." He always pronounced my name like 'Spin-ah-lee'. "What, pray tell, is more riveting than homeostasis?"

Everything.

"Nothing," I said quietly.

Wiesel still put us on detention. Aurel smiled at me. My heart pounded. I didn't have a crush.

In detention, we're not alone. Bumlets was put on detention by Ms. Martinez again for talking back and Jack 'gonorrhea' Kelly for cutting class.

"Aye, Snitch!" Jack called in some sort of white, homeboy Ebonics.

He went and sat next to his leader and I took a seat next to Bumlets.

"Martinez doesn't get that I'm not Spanish," he explained before my butt even finished coming in contact with the seat. "But I point that out and I get put on detention."

I nodded and fell quiet. I had never had detention before but I didn't mind the circumstances. Wiesel was barely in the room so we mostly talked. Or, rather, Jack and Aurel talked and Bumlets and I talked. Until ten minutes before we were to leave when he turned those lamp-like blue eyes at me and smiled with those amazing teeth.

"Itey." I blushed at the mention of my name. "You party?"

No.

"I guess."

"Jack's having a jammer. Wanna come?"

I had no idea what to say and was incredibly thankful for Bumlets.

"When is it?"

"Friday." Aurel was looking directly at me.

A party. A fun, social experience. And Jack's parties were purportedly legendary. Plus, Aurel would be there and the other would probably come. And Aurel would be there. And I've never been to a party before. And Aurel would be there.

"Sure, Aurel," I said in a voice I hoped didn't sound too excited and loving the sound of his name on my tongue.

"Call me Snitch."

My heart skipped a beat. I don't have a crush!

--

Jake's POV

I used to be a shagger. I'd twist boys around my fingers back home. No one really knows. But the entire scene was utterly horrendous in hindsight.

I used to have horrible taste. Really horrible taste. Every guy I've been with has been just like the rest I've known my whole life. Like, the one before I moved here. I screwed him longer than the others—two weeks to be exact. He broke up with me shortly before I moved. Saved me the trouble. He was a lousy fuck and his voice was like a dentist's drill slowly grinding and skewering its way into my eardrums: "do you love me?" "What's on your mind?" "How come we never go anywhere?" and other shit like that.

Once again…like every other guy I'd been with back home. When I'd chase guys, there's a thrill. There's a mystery. They could be anything: sweet enough to give you a cavity, anal like Monica from Friends or cool.

But they never are. They're just pecs and dicks. It wasn't even a thrill anymore to get one into bed. Now they start thinking that it's going to be forever but I'm already bored and moving onto the next one.

But when I bang one more than once, they're the only thing in the world. When he's still mysterious, I'm all his but then I'd get disappointed and move on.

Until now.

I haven't even slept with Snoddy yet and I know that he's the best thing in the world that could ever have happened to me.

His narrow face, those expressive, gray-green eyes. His wide smile. The mocking tilt of his head as he slowly dragged his wrist under his nose. It had to be love. The real sort of love.

I was thinking this as we waited for the bus to escort us to our respective homes. Pie was with us but I realized that when Pie is with you, he's never really with you. He's just kind of there, soaking everything in. I found myself remembering my time in the locker room with him and how he actually chatted me up.

It was strange considering his usual, catatonic state. Snoddy wasn't saying much either. He was dozing from a hard day in school—he wasn't that good in the academic department—his head resting lightly on my shoulder while I fought the urge to reach up and stroke his ginger hair.

Just as I was entertaining the notion to get Pie to talk again, I was cut off by someone singing.

"Booze and pills and powders, you can choose your medicine!" Bumlets's voice wafted over to our bench at the bus stop from wherever he was. His voice certainly could carry. "Well, here's another good-bye to another good friend!"

I turned my head to find him striding towards with Itey trailing behind him, looking embarrassed by his loud singing.

"After all is said and done!" Bumlets continued, jiving over to us. "Gotta move while it's still fun."

He sat down on the concrete, resting his back against the seat of bench. His head was about even with my knees and I briefly toyed with the idea of jerking it to the side and hitting him but I figured that our relationship wasn't that far yet.

"Let me walk before they make me run!"

"Sorry," Itey apologized hastily.

Rather than plopping down on the dirty sidewalk like Bumlets, Pie scooted over noiselessly to allow the short, Italian boy a place to sit.

"He got a little wired after detention. He had a Rock Star energy drink. One of those big ones? He bought it off Jack Kelly, you see. After they invited us to the party."

His cheeks flushed momentarily at the mention of a party and it perked my interest.

"Jack Kelly acknowledged him?" I asked, incredulous. "Of course…there was money in it for him. And party?"

Itey nodded. "Yeah. He and Sni—Aurel Bogdan invited us to a party tomorrow."

I was surprised. And, admittedly, a little skeptical. I didn't know much about American cinema (modern, anyway) but I knew that the popular kids suddenly taking interest in the unpopular kids meant one thing: hog's blood and lots of it.

Of course, it wasn't like they were our tormenters. They were our ignore…ers? Not like they had anything against us.

Besides, I haven't been to a party since I moved here. It could be fun.

"We're in," I answered for the three of us.

Pie made a distressed face and tugged on the tassels hanging from his bile yellow cap nervously.

Bumlets was twitching against my knees and I couldn't help but nudge him with my knee.

"You're okay, yeah?"

He raised his immaculately carved face framed by that Disney hair up to me, catching me by surprise. He was pretty gorgeous. Or would be if he hadn't opened his mouth.

"Watched the taillights fading, there ain't a dry eye in the hooooouse!"

Evidently not.