Author's Note: WHEW! i just finished that chapter in record time! because of that, i apologize in advance for any typos…there might be more than enough, since i'm not planning on proofreading this chapter—not that i really proofread any of my other chapters. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as you have enjoyed the others! it's entirely about Gar and him finding his new closest friends, so bear with me if you're anxious for more of the Titans; i PROMISE the next chapter is about the Titans and how they're doing without a Beast Boy. but two of the characters i introduce in this chapter play important parts in later chapters, and a few others play other parts, so don't dismiss their names totally from your mind. now, let's get some stuff clear for those of you who might read and worry: this is a bbrae fanfic, NOT really anything else; Mark Logan is Gar's father, Steve Dayton is his foster father; the whole Gar-got-bitten-by-a-green-monkey-and-got-his-powers did not happen—read my origin tweak, Chapter One, for clarification on that; and this fanfic DOES have a plot, i guarantee it! okay, on to your personal responses…

TGD3RD: dastardly? heh, let me tell you...lol, jk. you wanna kno who Ragonu's working with? i'll give you a hint: Titan fans kno his face too well...

iamhollywood: turn for the worst? you could say that. but i guarantee things will get interesting the more you read...at least that's my goal! XD

BolenPUCR: i luv twisted plotlines! they're so much fun to come up with, and they keep everyone guessing...

moonarcher: glad to be back! if you read the author's note, you'll see what the next chapter is about, and i think you'll like it. but hey, do me a favor? tell me if Gar seems too much out of character compared to Beast Boy, it'd be really helpful!

rogueandkurt: i'm glad it's at least more thrilling to you! yeah, i kno school sux, and i'm SO glad it's out! you keep smiling, too! .

rikagirl: i'm on ur favorites? aw, you just made my day! EEP!

dragoon-bane: yeah, wouldn't the world be a happier place if all finals were like that? ... SIGH. oh well...

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in the Teen Titans show or comics.

Gar stood outside Jump City High School, staring at its bright red brick walls and the spotless, shining glass doors that lined the front entrance. Students were reluctantly mulling around the doors, some sauntering inside, a few dashing out to make last-minute runs to their cars parked in either one of the two parking lots bordering the school. Teachers pushed their way through the crowds of students, coffee in hand, making their way as fast as they could to their classrooms to cover time lost in traffic. It was all an impressive sight to Gar, and he had to be snapped back to reality by Steve clearing his throat awkwardly, as Gar was still only half out of the vehicle, frozen in mid-step.

"Remember the slip," Steve chided as Gar completed his action, grabbing his backpack from the backseat as well. "I'll pick you up at three, right here." Gar nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Steve watched him for a second longer, then flashed a quick smile. "Don't worry, you'll do fine. Now go make some friends so I'm not the one who has to listen to you all the time."

Gar tried to throw him a mock offended look, but couldn't pull it off. Instead he shut the car door, gave Steve a quick wave, and started walking to the glass doors once Steve pulled off. There had only been two occasions on which he could remember feeling this nervous: when he finally left Africa for the United States, and the day he acquired Teen Titans membership. A group of students burst into laughter as he passed by them, resulting in several dark glances their way and a severely startled Gar as he barely missed smacking into someone. Pushing open one of the glass doors, he grimly thought, And this is only high school.

As soon as Gar stepped inside, the whole atmosphere seemed to change. Instead of the sleepy, halfhearted tone outside, the air instantly felt more alive with students running down the hallways followed by the voices of distressed teachers, shouting and laughing fits jumping around the walls, and the constant buzz of conversation. In the front lobby, trophy cases full of trophies, medals, plaques, and banners lined the white walls, while rows of blue lockers started when the lobby split off to three different hallways. Students filled almost every inch of tiled floor that could be seen in the halls, a shoving mass of bodies.

Pulling his eyes away from the students, Gar glanced about the lobby, hunting for the front office sign. Sure enough, just as Steve had promised, he immediately spotted the black block letters on the sign hanging directly over another glass door. Taking the yellow piece of paper Steve had given him at breakfast, he hastily walked over to the door and entered the office. At his entrance, a blonde-headed girl who looked to be around the same age as him raised her head from a pile of papers she had probably been organizing. The inside of the office made Gar feel as if he was in a dentist's waiting room; it had that strangely clean smell, pictures of flowers and lake views hanging on the walls. A bouquet of white lilies was perched on the counter that ran the whole length of the room, with various clipboards and pens laying on its surface. Behind the counter two desks sat against the far wall, and a small hallway between the desks led to what Gar believed were more offices. A middle-aged, pompous lady with coke-bottle glasses and brown hair was sitting at one of the desks and typing furiously behind the computer in front of her, most of her face hidden by the monitor. A gold-plated plaque that read 'MS. COMOURNER' sat beside the computer. An identical plaque that read 'MRS. ZATIECH' sat on the other desk, but Mrs. Zatiech was no where in sight. The faint ringing of a telephone from somewhere down the small hallway echoed over Ms. Comourner's typing.

"Hey! Can I help you?" A cheerful, ditzy voice broke into Gar's observations. He looked at the blonde girl at the counter, whose face was split in half by a huge grin. Gar gave a timid smile back, going up to the counter.

"Hi," he greeted, holding out the yellow paper. "I'm supposed to give this to—a Mrs. Rovanshuk, I think."

The girl took the piece of paper and scanned it with her sky-blue eyes, her grin replaced by a curious, polite smile instead. "Ooooh, you must be the new student—Garfield?" she said, placing the paper on the counter and looking up at him with yet another but also strangely disturbing smile. She held out her hand, giggling. "I'm Nicole Jackson."

Gar shook her hand. "Just call me Gar," he corrected.

The girl's—Nicole's—smile widened again. "I'm assuming you're a sophomore, since you're seeing Mrs. Rovanshuk? She's the tenth grade counselor." At Gar's nod, she picked up the sheet again and motioned playfully for Gar to come on back through a waist-high swinging door. "I'm in tenth grade too; maybe we'll have some classes together! If not, still feel free to come to me if you need any help." She led him down the small hallway and stopped outside an office in which an older, white-haired lady dressed in a smart, navy-blue skirt and suit jacket, was yapping loudly on the phone. She gave the piece of paper back to Gar, and waved at the lady to get her attention. The lady nodded, and waved back. "She'll be with you in a moment," Nicole said to Gar, and left him waiting outside the office after a small wink and giggle. Gar turned towards Mrs. Rovanshuk's office, grossly reminded of the famous Barbie doll.

"Just get it done," Mrs. Rovanshuk snapped into the phone, slamming it down on the receiver. Mrs. Rovanshuk rose from her desk, giving Gar a very wide but very fake smile. "Ah, Mr. Logan!" she said, Gar walking into her office. "Sit down, sit down!" He handed her the yellow paper, then sat down in a comfortable, burgundy arm chair. She sat back down at her desk, looking at the paper through an oval pair of reading glasses.

"Welcome to Jump City High School," she said, placing the paper down on her desk and picking up a plain white piece of paper. "I'm glad you decided to join us this early, and that you managed to correctly fill out the registration form." She gestured towards the yellow slip. "Most new students are rarely able to do either." She gave a short bark of laughter, and Gar decided he didn't particularly care for Mrs. Rovanshuk. He just gave a tight smile.

"Here's your schedule," Mrs. Rovanshuk continued, handing him the white slip of paper. Gar glanced down at it. "All your classes, your teachers, and their classroom numbers are on that piece of paper," Mrs. Rovanshuk said. "Do not lose it, because right now our school computer server is down, so it's impossible to get you another copy; it's also impossible to get you a map of the school. You'll just have to ask for directions. For starters, the three halls from the lobby? Left is the one hundred hall, right is the three hundred hall—dratted administrators!" The phone had started ringing again. "The center is the two hundred hall. You'll get your locker tomorrow," she finished in a rush. "Let yourself out at the end of this hall, and good luck!" She picked up the phone and promptly switched to ignoring Gar.

Ambling out of the front office, Gar examined his schedule; his first class was British Literature Composition with Mr. Jay Carson, room one hundred and twelve. Sighing, he remembered Mrs. Rovanshuk's words and turned down the left hall. The number of students moving around in the hall had lessened considerably, now most standing in circles around lockers or outside of classrooms. Gar kept glancing at the numbers engraved above the classroom doors as he passed, until he found the one he was looking for within a couple of minutes. Standing outside a room with an ominous feeling looming in his stomach once again, Gar listened to the voices of many students in the room before forcing himself to take the needed steps that would bring him to the doorway.

The classroom was very ordinary, with the regular school desks sitting in rows in the middle of the classroom, students and backpacks occupying the desks. A chalkboard and white board hung beside each other on the wall next to Gar, a desk like the two in the front office sitting before them. A tall man sat at the desk, writing on a pad of paper. His half-bald head shone in the fluorescent light shining from the ceiling, pressed pants, shirt, and smartly secured bowtie around his neck gave Gar the impression of a good-natured old-timer. Gar stepped into the room and started for the desk.

Many of the students didn't notice him at all, and kept talking to each other animatedly, but a few stopped and watched him cross the room. Gar kept his eyes trained on Mr. Carson, though, not bothering to acknowledge the couple of whispers he heard. When he reached the desk, he asked quietly, "Mr. Carson?"

The man did not look up for a minute, slowly lifting his head only when Gar was about to call his name again. He gave Gar a puzzled stare for another minute, but his expression then swiftly changed to the triumphant look of someone who had just remembered what they had forgotten. In a deep, bass voice he exclaimed, "Garfield Logan, I presume?"

Gar nodded, and Mr. Carson stood up, reaching out for Gar's schedule. He let Mr. Carson take it, watching as he signed his initials next to his name. He handed back the schedule, saying, "I don't know if Mrs. Rovanshuk told you, but you're supposed to let all your teachers initial your schedule then give it back to the front office the next day. Besides that, welcome!" Then he leaned in closer and whispered, though very loudly, "For some advice from a teacher, stay away from the chicken lasagna at this school. You don't want gallbladder attacks at your age."

Gar smiled, liking Mr. Carson more with every word he spoke. "So," Mr. Carson said, scanning the classroom, "how about—ah, there we go! Take a sit next to Ms. Malvern, if you please…but wait! You haven't had the school tour yet, have you? Good, good…Ms. Malvern! Ms. Malvern! She has those blasted headphones on again, doesn't she? Wait a moment, Garfield." Mr. Carson sauntered over the row of desks closest to the left wall. Only three or four students occupied this row; two boys were avidly debating over something, jabbing their fingers into each other's faces, with a third boy hanging on to every word they said, eagerly agreeing with both sides of the argument as he nodded when the other two boys appealed to him. They were all gathered around one desk, and behind them Gar could make out the figure of someone hunched over their desk, head in the arms. Mr. Carson tapped one of the boys' shoulders and pointed towards the figure. All three of the boys leapt upon the figure, aggressively tickling his or her sides, until they sat straight up and started slapping the boys' hands. The boys broke into laughter, and made way for their fellow student, still shaking with laughter. Mr. Carson strolled back over to Gar, his mouth spreading into a smile, followed by a disgruntled looking girl rubbing her eyes.

"Garfield, let me introduce you to Kassie Malvern, who is extremely excited and overjoyed to help out a new student who knows nothing about the vicious cycle of social discrimination at Jump City High School or how to navigate the school's halls," Mr. Carson proclaimed in a broadcast voice, bringing the girl face to face with Garfield. She was about the same height as Gar, with almost waist-length red-orange hair tied back in slapdash manner at the nape of her neck. A pair of oval glasses sat on the edge of her freckle-brushed nose, her hazel-brown eyes barely open as she covered a huge yawn with her arms. Headphones were around her neck, probably the 'blasted' ones she had been listening to before, and Gar could still hear faint heavy-metal rock thumping from them. She was dressed in a sleeveless black tee, a picture of an abashed robot covering his behind as screws and such poured out on the front, with black, flared hipster pants and black tennis shoes. The outfit showed of some of her full-bodied figure, and Gar could see why the boys hadn't been hesitant to tickle her at all. She might've been cute if he cared, but he hadn't been much in the mood for scoping out girls lately.

"You still have around fifteen minutes or so before the warning bell," Mr. Carson said, pushing them both towards the door. "Try not to be late, but if you are, Garfield's schedule is your pass. Have fun!" Mr. Carson shunted them out of the room, walking back to his desk. Gar watched him disappear into the classroom before facing his…tour guide, he supposed, and was greeted by a hand barely missing his nose as he ducked to the side at the last second. Kassie had yawned again, stretching, and then shook her head and fixed Gar in a severe stare. He stared back, pondering whether or not he should try to say something at risk of his head being torn off, according to the look she was giving him. He nervously began to open his mouth, but was interrupted even before he said something.

"So, you're a new kid?" Kassie questioned, her dagger-eyes suddenly transforming into a friendly smile. He didn't answer, taken aback by the unexpected change in attitude she had made. She chuckled, holding out her hand, and continued, "You look scared to death. I'm Kassie Malvern, and I guess I'm gonna be the one to tell you everything you need to know about this dump…I usually get landed with the job—it's Carson's way of getting back at me for sleeping in his class." She snickered, then commented, "He's probably the best teacher here, though, even if his class succeeds in being the easiest and the most boring of all. Here, lemme see your schedule for a sec."

She said this all very fast, and it took Gar a second to respond and shake her hand while giving his schedule to her with his free hand. Letting go of Gar's other hand, she studied the schedule for a second. "This is cool, you won't be totally lost now," she guaranteed. She gave Gar his schedule back. "Besides Carson's class, you have biology and algebra two with me, and I know plenty of people that are in your other classes. Do you know anybody in this area, or did you just move here?"

Kassie paused and waited for an answer. Recalling his cover story, Gar remarked, "I just moved from Maine, so I would be surprised if I did know anyone."

"Me too," Kassie stated. "I'll introduce you to some people before the bell rings, of course—then you'll know at least a couple of people. Come on, let's head down to the cafeteria."

Kassie started down the hall back towards the lobby, Gar following closely. "This," she began, "is the one hundred hallway, in case you couldn't put that together from the classroom numbers. Most of the sophomores and freshmen have their classes here, whereas most of the juniors and seniors have their classes down the three and four hundred halls. Elective classes, non-academic classes, and the library are down the two hundred hall. That's where you'll have art. "

"Where's the four hundred hall?" Gar asked, unsure if Mr. Rovanshuk had mentioned one or not.

"That's behind the cafeteria." At Gar's confused face, Kassie heaved a sigh. "Oh no, Rovanshuk didn't give you a map, did she?"

Gar shook his head. "She said the school's computer server was down—"

"—so it was impossible to get another copy of your schedule or a map of the school," Kassie finished. She rolled her eyes. "That's always her stupid excuse; she's just too lazy to keep up with a stack of copies around in her office."

They entered the lobby, and Kassie pointed down the three hundred hall. "The cafeteria is further down this hall, and that's where we're going. Most kids hang out there in the morning until class starts, so it's a good place to start your tour of 'the vicious cycle of social discrimination at Jump City High School,' as Carson likes to put it."

Kassie and Gar had just passed the first row of lockers in the three hundred hall when a voice caused Kassie to stop sharply, Gar tripping over his own feet as he tried not to run into her.

"Kassie! Wait a minute, I need to talk to you!"

Gar looked up to see another girl jogging towards them, backpack bouncing on her shoulder. The first thing he noticed about her was that her hair was a seriously bright pink—almost blinding pink. The accents of pink on her lime-green top and miniskirt didn't really help the matter, either.

"Jillian!" Kassie waved at the girl as she came up to them.

"I'm so glad I caught you," Jillian exclaimed as she halted in front of Kassie. "I just wanted to tell you real quick: Jess is at the hospital with pneumonia, canceling math study groups during Study Hall out until he gets back. You don't have to play secretary for us anymore, but Ms. Puekmn said she would really appreciate it if you helped wrap up two last sessions today."

"No more study groups? Darn," Kassie said in mock horror. "But I guess I have no choice but to help Ms. Puekmn, do I? She has this amazing ability to induce the most annoying feeling on earth: guilt…tell her I'll help." Jillian nodded, but Kassie suddenly seemed to remember Gar. "Oh, Jillian, this is—Garfield Logan? He's a new sophomore."

Jillian extended her hand. "Jillian Jackson."

"Just call me Gar," Gar said, shaking her hand. It seemed to him that at this rate, his hand would fall off or something from shaking one too many hands.

"Nice to meet you, but I've gotta get to class now. Hope I see you around!" And with that, Jillian was jogging back in the direction she had come from, vanishing into a throng of students that were coming towards Kassie and Gar.

Watching her go, the name of the girl in the front office flashed through Gar's mind. "Wait…is she related to Nicole Jackson?" he inquired as Kassie started leading him down the hall again.

Kassie made a face. "Ugh, don't remind me of her. Yeah, they're cousins…you must've meant her in the front office, she does assistant work there. I prefer Jillian of the two. Nicole is just…go on, try to tell me she didn't remind you of a certain blue-eyed, blonde-headed, ditzy, preppy doll."

Gar couldn't help it. He laughed. "Malibu Barbie, definitely."

Kassie snorted. "You could say that again. Just watch out for her, she's one of the biggest flirts in the history of mankind. Only problem is no guys want to flirt back—except maybe the foolish few. She never seems too bad at the beginning, but it only takes a little time…here we are! Behold: the cafeteria of some of the best and worst food around, as well as home to all the cliques in Jump City High School."

Gar could easily describe the cafeteria as a normal high school cafeteria, like the ones in shows on television. Tables lined the walls and sat in vertical rows, roped off sections along opened windows in the wall which showed sections of what could only be the school kitchen surrounded by students as they tried to fill their stomachs with a respectable breakfast before school began. At the tables more students sat, either spaced out by themselves, eating quickly, or chatting avidly in large groups sitting in intervals at the tables. A large courtyard could be seen through another set of glass doors on one side of the cafeteria, a long ramp and set of stairs on the other side leading down to another hallway. Gar also noted there were two other entrances to the cafeteria on each side of the one he and Kassie had come through. It wasn't hard to figure out the one hundred and two hundred halls must turn back around to end here as well.

"I forgot to mention, you can eat breakfast here, too, in case you didn't gather," Kassie mumbled thoughtfully, as if she hadn't actually considered it that important to mention. She then clapped her hands together ardently. "Well, on to the vital stuff. It doesn't really matter who you hang out with at this school; most people are very friendly. It's who not to bother you gotta learn. For instance," Kassie explained, starting to stroll around the outskirts of the tables, "see over there? By the courtyard?" Gar looked to where she was pointing, and saw a table full of brawny hefty guys, laughing loudly and being swooned over by a bunch of hot girls in extremely short cheerleading skirts at the doors. "All of those people are mainly football players and cheerleaders. They're not a bunch of idiots and bitches like so many people like to make them out to be—they're actually pretty nice, but have a talent for being incredibly stupid at times. They care more about partying and drinking than school, so don't hang out with them if you're trying to make it in school because they'll most likely discourage you and keep you from it.

"Now next to them," Kassie pointed at another crowd of students wearing letter jackets, a little distance unconsciously placed between them and the football crowd, "are the rest of the athletes and people doing any form of extra-curricular activities. They're more of the jock section, with people in track and swimming and basketball and even marching band. They nice, too, and care a little more about school than the football players for some reason. You'll also see them hanging around anyone in this school, too, since they're not as tightly packed as the football players and cheerleaders. Like, see that kid standing next to the water fountain? Kinda short, with the wave of brown hair and yellow backpack? He's Bart Allen, a friend of mine since seventh grade—he's the fastest guy in the county, and he won state championship for the six hundred meter sprint for the last two years. You'll see more of him around, he's always making himself known to everyone in the school.

"On to the Goths and anime-lovers. They're the bunch by the cookie line, currently serving egg burritos. It's not hard to spot them, they're a mass of black, with a few colors here and there as well as some interesting hairdos. Now they might look as scary as hell sometimes, but they're a mild-mannered group. You'll see most of them in art or drama classes, and they'll be the ones with the best grades in those classes. And don't worry, they're always glad to help you if you need art lessons or something concerning performing arts. The girl sitting on the end of the table with seven or eight people crowded around her? Everybody calls her Argent, she's the school's only albino, that's why she looks so pale. She dyed her hair solid purple this year, but every year she has a new color…anyway, she's the best person to go to if you're looking for a part in a play or some help in Analysis. That's why she's so popular with everyone."

Gar was starting to see why Mr. Carson had picked Kassie to show him around the school, excluded revenge—she appeared to know the school and the students inside out, and knew how to explain it all in a fast but informing way. Scanning the cafeteria, Gar pointed at a large group of students wearing black, red, green, maroon or yellow bandanas tied around their heads. Most were boys, wearing baggy T-shirts and jeans that looked like they were about to fall off, but some girls wearing almost the exact same thing could be picked out. They all had a mean feel about them, sending hostile glares towards others in their group or to students scampering by. A particularly nasty-looking group of about five or six students had caught Gar's eye, as students both dressed in baggy clothes and not gave them a wide berth, glancing at them nervously as they passed.

"Who're they?" Gar interrupted as Kassie clarified how to keep a computer geek from launching into a full-out description of how a GPS tracking satellite works without making them feel stupid or inferior.

Kassie looked to where he was pointing and flinched. "I'll warn you now, so you can't say I didn't later. Don't mess with that group. All those students help make up the gangs of Jump City. They're all racist, brutal, and usually sexist. Many are just posers and wannabes, pulled into the business by older siblings, but can still cause a lot of trouble. They won't shoot you, but they can and will hurt you. The school board had been trying to keep them from wearing their gang colors—that's what the bandanas are—but it doesn't work. The students do it anyway. Don't mess with them."

"I figured as much," Gar agreed. He was still watching the group of whom everybody was giving a wide berth. They weren't wearing any bandanas, as far as Gar could tell, but he doubted they were listening to the teachers.

Kassie pinpointed what else he was gazing at. "And especially don't mess with them," she added hurriedly. "There's a reason why everyone is staying away from them. They don't need any bandanas; they're alone a gang. Call themselves the Hybrids. The guys are the toughest in the school, and the girls—they're the 'real bitches,' not the cheerleaders, as they like to say. Even the teachers and school board are afraid of them…they want to kick the Hybrids out of school, but are terrified. And the Hybrids don't want to go—they like imposing dread wherever they go, and school is the easiest area to get that dread. It's broadly known that they're the ones that will shoot you, and probably more than once, if you piss them off."

"So I won't piss them off," Gar said, ripping his eyes away from the Hybrids, who had just sauntered off towards the ramp.

A shrill bell tore through the building, making Gar jump a little and wince. All the students in the cafeteria seemed to suddenly stand up and start for the three hallways as one, groaning and complaining that the start of school was finally here. Kassie glanced up at a clock above one of the lunch/breakfast lines. "That was the first bell, so that means we have—"

"KAAAASSSSSIIIEEE!"

"Oh God, not hi—"

Without much of a warning, Kassie doubled over and was engulfed in a strangling bear hug, her arms glued against her sides as a boy piggy-backed her from behind, his eyes half-closed and a stupid grin plastered on his face. It was impossible to tell who he was while Kassie tried to buck him off without falling down, and Gar stood helplessly by, not knowing what to do. Soon enough the boy let go, however, releasing a ruffled Kassie straightening her glasses and who looked ready to bite off the boy's head.

"I swear, Michael—!" She shook her fist at the boy as she composed herself, and Gar wouldn't have been surprised if she had rushed at the boy, both fists pounding.

"Aw, I wuve you to, ittle Kaddie," the boy teased in a baby voice, patting Kassie on the back and hugging her again.

"Geroff me!" Kassie screeched, though her voice was severely muffled. The boy obeyed, laughing. Kassie glared at him.

"Okay, okay, I'm done!" the boy said, his hands raised. Gar observed him for a minute, and then backtracked—the guy looked and sounded really familiar. He was a little taller than Gar, with dusty brown hair and dark-brown eyes, his frame slight and athletic. He wore shorts, a dark green T-shirt, and a pair of back flip-flops, a sports-watch on one of wrist. His backpack hung low on his back, half-opened, but the guy didn't seem to care. It was like meeting someone on the street who you knew at the back of your mind, only realizing you went to school with them in elementary five days later.

"You better be," Kassie growled, but was ignored by the boy as he saw Gar.

"Hey! Haven't seen you around before! Do I know you?" the boy exclaimed excitedly, only to be pushed aside by Kassie.

"You don't know him, and you haven't seen him around here," she said curtly, obviously still peeved.

"And how do you know that, Miss All-Knowing?" the boy countered.

"Because he moved from Maine and today's his first day."

"Oh. Well in that case…" he held out hand to Gar. "Michael Lzuck, man, pleased to meet you."

"Gar Logan," Gar said, shaking Michael's hand.

"So, you getting the all-famous tour of 'the vicious cycle of social discrimination at Jump City High School,' eh?" Michael correctly assumed, dropping Gar's hand. "Kassie is always the best person to get to give you the tour, since she knows practically every freakin' person at this school. And she still won't hook me up—"

Kassie sniffed. "You wouldn't need me to hook you up if you were decent around girls."

Michael grinned, winking at Gar. "That's what she says every single time…it's not like I don't try, either…but after hanging out with a girl's whose attitude rhymes with her name, it's kinda hard. My nickname for her explains it all: Kass the As—oof! Hey, what was that for?" Michael cried, clutching his side where he had just gotten so graciously elbowed. Kassie gave a satisfied smirk, then smiled sweetly at Gar.

"As I was saying before we were rudely interrupted, that was the warning bell, so we have ten minutes before the late bell rings and class starts. Let's head on back to Carson's, shall we?" Kassie started walking to the ramp before Gar answered, leaving both Gar and Michael to catch up with her, and both of them did.

"So, you have Carson's class with her?" Michael asked Gar, who nodded. "Awesome. If you sit behind her during tests, and she likes you a bit, there's always the chance she might let you glance over her shoulder—I remember when she used to let me do that…good days, good times…"

Kassie jokingly pushed Michael as all three of them maneuvered their way down the ramp. "Unfortunately, Gar, you have this buffoon in the rest of your classes…but he'll give you someone to talk to. Don't follow any of his advice, scholarly or socially, though, or else you'll regret it."

They turned right off the ramp, where Gar could see a bend in the hall further along, where the rest of the one hundred hall probably was. "Ha," Michael drawled, "very funny." He hooked his arm around Gar's shoulders. "But I beg to differ. We're gonna have a great time, pal, and don't you forget it."

"Whatever." Kassie hooked her arm around Gar's shoulders on the other side, over Michael's arm. "We're gonna have a blast in Carson's and the other classes we have without you."

"Well," Gar said, breaking his silence. "At least I'll have something to look forward to in all my classes."

Kassie and Michael both laughed, unlatching their arms from Gar's back. "Relax, you won't be the center of all our arguments," Michael chortled, "Cuz there's too many of them."

Kassie landed a feint smack on Michael, who ducked. She laughed again. "He's right though…the only thing we don't fight about is music."

They rounded the corner of the hall, which did lead to the rest of the one hundred hall. "Oh, that reminds me!" Kassie and Gar both looked to Michael, waiting for him to say his remember-ation. "Kassie, Benji wanted me to remind you: the band's going to IHOP this Saturday morning, you coming?"

"Saturday morning? Sure I'm free."

"You wanna come too, Gar? It'll let you meet a couple other people. It's what, Thursday? You got two days to prepare to meet the coolest garage band around—"

"—they think they're the coolest—"

"—and nobody will mind if you come. They'd most likely be thrilled, knowing them. So what do you say?"

Gar decided he really liked Kassie Malvern and Michael Lzuck. "Sure. It'd be awesome."

"Great!" Mr. Carson's room came into view, and Michael picked up his pace, getting ahead of Kassie and Gar. "I'll get you directions to the IHOP tomorrow, if you need them, since you're from Maine and all…I gotta jet, I have to get down to room 415 in less than two minutes. Later!"

Gar and Kassie waved as Michael left, stopping in front of Mr. Carson's room. Mr. Carson was walking to the door, ready to usher in the last of his students while other students slammed their lockers shut and ran down the halls, rushing to their classes before they were tardy. Kassie looked at the clock in Mr. Carson's room. "He's not going to make it," she declared to Gar as they walked into the classroom. "His watch is off. He has exactly…eight seconds until the bell rings."

A shrill bell sounded through the school again as Gar plopped down in the seat beside Kassie, and they both laughed as they thought of Michael, sprinting through the cafeteria.

The security camera right outside of Jay Carson's class zoomed in on Garfield Logan as the door closed, shutting him from view. Gar's silent stalker watched him with glee as he laughed, contemplating with pleasure in the shadows of her own making that the brat wouldn't be laughing for long…