Agh, no one has read my story yet/reviewed yet. Poop. Oh well, I might change this to a real novel by changing the names around a little, so all is well, I guess...

Hope you like! IDK if I ship Gavin and Gordie, Caspar and Gordie or just plain old Chris and Godrie yet...hmmm...

-Tommy

"So, where are you from?" Gavin asked for the sake of small talk. Gordie looked around the quiet hallway. Even the last-minute stragglers had already made their way to class, so it was just him and his tour guide in the deserted 2nd floor corridor.

"Castle Rock." Gordie said nostalgically. Even the name uncovered memories Gordie didn't even want to think about because it made him so sad.

"Hmm…" Gavin thought. "Where's that?"

"Oregon." Gordie replied. "Small town, really, but my whole life was there.

"So what made you come here?" Gavin asked with interest.

"My mom passed around the end of 6th grade summer. Dad figured that he couldn't afford the house and we didn't need it since my brother…" Gordie shook his head. "God, there's so much death in my family, I mean, I really think he wanted to get away from it. So did I, but that meant leaving my friends…" Chris's face flashed over his mind. His eyes glazed. "But he thought he could man me up a little and be more sports-centered like my brother, so he sent me here."

"So if you don't play sports…" Gavin deduced, "And your dad wanted you to man up, what do you do?"

Gordie shrugged.

"I don't really know." He replied honestly. "It kind of just…I don't know."

Gavin chuckled.

"You do know…" He said with a smile, shoving him a little with his shoulder. "What do you do? What's your secret?"

Gordie grimaced at the word 'secret'.

"I like to write." He forced through his teeth. "A lot. More than I'd like to admit. Chris always told me I shouldn't let my dad decide what I do, but now that my mom's gone, and he's not around, I guess that I have to."

"I saw a look in your eyes." Gavin said, looking at Gordie straight in the face. "Who's Chris?"

Gordie gulped, faltering in his steady pace.

"He's my best friend." He said simply. "My dad always hated him. Bad family rep. He won't even let me mail him."

"Oh." Gavin looked down. "That sucks man. Good thing I don't have anyone to write to, so I don't have to worry."

Gordie laughed, thinking about what he had just given up to Gavin. He barely even knew him, and yet he had told him about half his world. Why had he done that? Was it his charm? His smile? His reporter cap and camera that somehow said "tell me your secrets! I'm important and gossip matters to me!"? Maybe it was the reassuring handshake, or the way he smiled and made eye contact with his dark, off-green eyes that were almost the color of grass but slightly touched with the Hershey's milk chocolate undertone, but there was something about him that just compelled you to talk to him. Like you could trust him with your deepest fears and darkest secrets and-

Gordie shook his head. What? That was creepy.

He glanced over at Gavin, who glanced at Gordie, then retreated his gaze to his shoes. Gordie did the same.

"I write too." Gavin said finally. "More of the reporting stuff, but still." He touched the brim of his PRESS cap. "I work with the school newspaper, but it mostly writes about sports and stuff…I like working with the more interesting things, but it's not like anybody will ever read that. They only care about the scores of yesterday evening's game. It's good, though, because I get to go to all the games without being questioned about why I'm there. Getting to watch football guys run around in skin tight leggings and headgear…yay…exciting…" Gavin smiled at his sarcasm. Gordie laughed.

"Reporting could be cool." He said. "I haven't written much. I want to get more serious about it, but I don't think that it'll get anywhere past the story about some kid named Lardass Hogan making everyone puke all over each other to get revenge for ranking him out and calling him fat all the time."

Gavin laughed.

"Well, for the record," Gavin said, leaning a little closer and lowering his voice, "I think that sounds pretty brilliant."

"Really?" Gordie smiled at him, forgetting to try and keep composed. "Hey, thanks, man. Most people besides Chris and Denny didn't think that my writing was worth shit, but now Denny's dead and Chris is all the way back in Castle Rock, so now I guess…" He sighed, looking up. They had reached the end of the hallway.

"Well, I guess that's the end of the school." Gavin checked his watch. "Hey, it's it's only eleven-ten. We have twenty minutes. You want to go sit by the field?"

Gordie shrugged.

"Sure."

"No, no, no, but actually." Gavin laughed. "What is the deal with those tabloids that lie about everything? Like I don't get it! Who even actually cares if…I don't know…Shelby Landsman is pregnant or had an affair with Bob DeBobert? Honestly, it's so ridiculous."

Gordie gestured towards Gavin's camera.

"Say's the reporter!"

"But I'm different." Gavin reasoned. "I write about sports. I'm pretty sure I can't include a freak pregnancy in a middle school league baseball match report for the newspaper. Oh look! There goes Shelby up to bat and-whoops, what's that baby doing there?"

Gordie grinned, imagining a small child just popping out right in the middle of a game. He looked out at the field. It was sunny out, a cool late-summer breeze cooling his perspiring neck and the hot line of sweat by the collar of thick uniform blazer. He watched the lacrosse boys carefully, pinpointing Caspar as he stepped to the side, dropping his stick and removing his headgear, and shaking off his sweaty blonde tuft like a lion's mane, he then walked over to the bright orange Gatorade water cooler and poured some over his face, drenching his sweaty white shirt and hair. After swiping his dripping hair from his eyes, he looked around, then caught Gordie. He smiled and waved. Gordie hesitated, then waved back.

"Woah." Gavin muttered in a low whisper as Caspar began to make his way towards the bleachers. "You know him?"

"Yeah." Gordie said casually, even though he was surprised at himself for establishing himself with, apparently, one of the most popular boys in school. In Castle Rock, Chris, Teddy, Vern and him were considered outcasts and loved it. Here, well…maybe things would be different… "Met him a little bit ago. Not really a big deal. He seems nice…"

"Yeah, I'll say…" Gavin began, but slapped on a fake smile as Caspar slowed in front of them.

"Hey, Lachance." Caspar chin-nodded towards him. He glanced at Gavin. "Maccaffer."

"Hey…" Gavin said with an unenthusiastic nod. Caspar came to lean on the bleachers a few steps down.

"So." He said, tilting his head adorably once again. Gordie smiled involuntarily, then wiped his face clean of it. "What brings you here?"

"You know…" Gordie shrugged. "Had some extra time after the tour."

Caspar nodded slowly, pressing his lips together.

"So, what's your next class?" He asked. Gordie reached into his bag and took out the neatly pressed schedule folded inside. "English with Ms. Sanders in room 205."

"Oh, sweet!" Caspar's face lit up. "I've got that same class! See you there, then, I guess."

"See you there." Gordie smiled tightly, as did Gavin.

Caspar waved, grabbed his stick, and was gone.

"Well, we'd better get to class." Gavin said, getting up quickly and gathering his things. "After that tour, I'm guessing you'll know how to get there, right?"

"Yeah, I-"

"Great, see you at lunch!" Gavin interrupted. And with that, he was gone, leaving Gordie slack jawed and wondering.

It was already fading, but Gordie concentrated just enough to catch it in time. A fizzy feeling. A little bubbly, warm pile of cherry-pie-bubblegum-pink-hearts-and-roses feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him giddy. Shocked by this new development, Gordie gripped his stomach. He thought that it was just first day jitters, but why did it begin to fade just when Caspar left and come back when he returned?

Gordie shook his head. He'd been through this before, with different people, different places, different feelings and different circumstances. And he'd been able to deal with it. He could deal with this too. After all, he was only thirteen. 8th grade was just a trial period. This was nothing but a trial period….

Right?