"...The hell...?" Wocky set down his cell phone. What kinda freak calls a random number and leaves a ten-minute message and doesn't say anything? ...Maybe it was one minute. He turned it off before it was over.

Wocky had been sitting in his room with nothing to do for over an hour. He was always like this--get in an argument with his dad and he'd mope in his room until dinner. But, lately, it hadn't been moping so much as ... sitting around.

Man, he needed a hobby.

-

Trucy waited a full five minutes after her dad left to turn on her phone. For all she knew, he could be spying on her--she was just at the fridge and saw at least five bottles of grape juice, all unopened. She'd never understand Phoenix's obsession with grape juice.

She jumped on her bed--the couch--and excitedly typed in Wocky's number. She hadn't used too many of her minutes this month, since she only called Apollo one or two times. One extra call wasn't a bad thing, right?

-

Wocky checked the clock. It would be another hour before his mom called him out for dinner. Damn, and he was humgry. But he couldn't just get up and leave his room, could he? If anyone saw he wasn't sulking, they'd think he'd learned his lesson.

Almost as soon as he turned his phone back on to play that fuze-ball game, it started ringing. What, was today Waste Wocky's Minutes day? He answered it anyway.

"Hey, 'sup?"

"It's me, Trucy!"

...Wait, who?

"...Are you there?"

...

...Oh! "Yo, Shorty! Sorry 'bout that. My memory ain't so good."

She giggled. "It's okay."

"So... Watcha callin' for?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, watcha wanna tell me? Ain't that why you called, to tell me somethin'?"

"...I dunno. I didn't really think of anything..."

Geesh, she could've at least had a reason to call.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Trucy mumbled something about some new movie coming out. Wocky said something like, 'Yeah, that's cool...' Wait, which movie was she talking about? And then he said something like, 'Yo, I think Mom wants me to ad... ver... Tell my homes about the shop,' and Trucy said something like, 'I'll tell Daddy about it,' but Wocky was too busy trashketballing to pay attention.

After more mumbling, inspiration struck Trucy's mind.

"Oh, I know what we can talk about! Today at school—"

"Woah, hold up." Not that again. Wocky had just started to feel less agitated. He didn't want to start another school conversation.

"Don't talk to me about school. I don't wanna hear it."

There was a pause. And then he remembered who he just yelled at. Oh, shit... "...Uh... Sorry 'bout that, Shorty..."

But Trucy was too afraid to respond.

"...Shorty?"

"Oh, uh..."

"You alright?"

"...Uh, y-yeah..."

"...Look, I shouldn't a' yelled at you. See, my pop's just been wantin' me to go to college, and that ain't cool with me, so... ...Y'dig?"

"...You don't like school?"

What, she was surprised? Did she like school?

"Hell naw! All ya do is sit around an' do work—where's the fun in that?"

"Well, it's not that bad... I mean, you get to hang out with your friends, without having to ask your parents!"

"I already got that. I can hang with my homes whenever I want."

"But learning is important... Isn't it?"

"Been home-schooled my whole life."

"...Oh... ...So then why do you have to go to college?"

"Man, I don't know! Dad says he wants me to get a job. If he'd a' just kept goin' with his own job, maybe I wouldn't a' needed some stupid college! I mean... Come on, man. College is wack."

...Aw, shit, was he being too hard on her again? He forgot he was talking to some elementary kid (...middle school?) instead of one of his G's. He was used to exerting authority on others, but she wasn't used to Wocky.

-

Trucy didn't know what to say. What could she say? She thought college was a good idea, but if she agreed with Wocky's father, Wocky would hate her. She had already been scared half to death when he yelled earlier, and the last thing she wanted was for him to yell again.

Good thing she didn't have to say anything.

"Look, sorry, Shorty. It ain't your bad... but I gotta go eat. Mom's yellin'."

"...Okay. See you later... I guess."

Both phones hung up.

And, as if on some sort of cue, the door's handle began turning.