I never asked, but the Townie kid told me that his name was Duncan. It wasn't until after he had handed me my pack of cigarettes that he said anything to me. And it was a simple sentence: "I'm Duncan, by the way."

I didn't properly introduce myself in turn; my mouth was too occupied to speak. At the very moment he extended his arm to hand me my pack I fervently tore it open and began to smoke. I needed it desperately. He stood there, third wheeling to me and the skinny little friend pressed between my lips, as though there were something else he was needed for.

I realized it was the company of his much larger friends that had given him that intimidating air earlier. Alone with him, I felt much stronger, much more in control. Which I should have been. He was weak and small and poor and probably couldn't do a thing to harm me. His friends, on the other hand, could and likely wouldn't hesitate to do so.

It was silent between the two of us as we stood in the empty gas station parking lot. The quiet hum of electricity from the street lights and whistling of the nighttime wind - or perhaps that was me exhaling - were the only sounds preventing my ears from ringing. The Townie kid was completely silent, completely still. He held his hands in his pockets and let his head hang. I had no clue what was keeping him around. I had my cigarettes and he had my change. We were finished.

I shot him a glare behind a puff of smoke. "You can leave now." His presence was bothering me.

"Oh, I'm dismissed?" he scoffed.

"Yes, now go back to your trailer park, Trash Heap."

"Thanks, Rich Boy." One last smirk, then he hopped on his bike and pedaled off, back towards the carnival. And that was it. He was gone. Thank heavens. My first cigarette of the night only lasted that long, so I made a mental note to myself to focus on preserving my pack so I wouldn't have to associate with the Townies too often. They were a strange breed.

But I was satisfied. That was so much easier than going to New Coventry.

Satisfied as I was, I needed to get back to Harrington House.

As I started back towards the school, I glanced at my watch. It was involuntary; I didn't really read the time, just sort of looked at it. I was well aware that it was past curfew by now; I didn't need a clock to tell me that. If the prefects were to catch me out I would simply pay them off. No big deal.

I smoked another cigarette as I walked. I needed to plan out my actions and they always helped me think. I knew of a hidden pathway behind the school fences that would get me to Harrington House hopefully unnoticed, and once I arrived I had to shower and change clothes to hide the smoke smell. Once all of that was done I had to message my father to let him know that my credit card had not been maxed out after all, then...

Whack.

I was face down on the pavement.

I wasn't entirely sure where I had been hit, but it felt like the back of my head, and I wasn't certain with what, but it felt rather hard. I was next to the dirt road near the motel when I fell, and it didn't hurt, at least not terribly, but I was not a happy Gord.

A growl which frightened even me escaped my throat as I pushed myself onto my feet. "Who has the nerve..."

I whipped around, ready to give my attacker a piece of my mind.

"You shouldn't smoke. It's bad for you."

My breath caught, and he smirked, bending over to pick up the baseball rolling to his feet.

Justin Vandervelde and I weren't close. In fact, we hardly spoke with each other. If he and I weren't of the same clique I'd be reluctant to call us friends. But we were of the same clique, and because of that I did consider him a friend of mine. Well, to an extent.

He was a lanky brunette with too much overbite to match his overflowing timidity when faced with a real challenge. Justin was a senior when I was still a junior, eighteen when I was a mere months away from being sixteen. Because of his seniority, he wasn't hesitant to pick on me, despite the 'pick on someone your own size' rule he seemed so keen on when threatened himself.

I was quite shocked to see him out here at this hour, but not as much as I was embarrassed for a fellow Prep to catch me smoking.

"W-What..." I realized my cigarette was no longer in my possession. It was in the street, still burning.

He nodded towards the cigarette. "Smoking is bad for you," he repeated, still smirking at me.

"No, I mean... Why on Earth are you out here? Were you following me?"

He chuckled. "Well, I wasn't. But I couldn't help but notice such a high class child exchanging words with some homeless kid in the gas station parking lot. I wanted to compliment your sweater."

I glared. "That doesn't explain why you're out here."

He and I continued to walk back to campus as we spoke. Apparently, he had been vandalizing tenements in New Coventry. Egging the buildings, tossing baseballs into their windows, things of that nature. That was Justin, alright. He loved harassing the Greasers more than any of us. It made him feel good about himself.

We both stayed in Harrington House during the school year, and we both lived in Old Bullworth Vale during the summer. We had grown up in the same environment and I had known him for quite a while now. Well, when I say I've known him, I really mean that we've both been aware of each other's existence for quite a while. We had never actually hung out together, so I didn't 'know' him.

"Don't you think it's dangerous for a scrawny boy like you to be out here all alone?" he asked me once we reached the school gates.

He was so bothersome. "I think I can handle myself, Vandervelde," I retorted in a matter of fact manner.

He snorted.

Justin didn't take me seriously. I didn't believe that it was because I was younger than him, since Tad was my age and Justin was quite respectful to him. He just didn't view me as an equal. The two of us hardly interacted but when we did he was always teasing me, calling me weak and scrawny, and once or twice describing me as effeminate. He was an annoying one.

We entered the school gates and made our way towards the courtyard, dodging into the shadows to hide from prefects when necessary. The two of us remained silent until we reached the Harrington House doors.

"Well," he started, stepping in front of me to prevent my entering the building. "While I trust you're capable of handling yourself-" His tone was laced with sarcasm. "-the next time you decide to do business with the poor kids, I suggest bringing backup."

He smirked and opened the door, stepping halfway inside. "Shouldn't you hose off first?"

"Well, Justin, I was planning on showering once I got inside."

"No, you'll stink up the bathrooms. Go roll around in the fountain instead."

I glared at him, too tired to think of anything to respond with.

He laughed, and stepped aside to let me in.

He was so annoying.

It was still the beginning of the year, and the dreadful heat from summer vacation still lingered in the air. Harrington House was kept air conditioned, but the school building was not. Reasonable teachers like Galloway liked to hold their classes outdoors, but unfortunately not every teacher was that kind.

So, why go?

Tad and I decided to cut out after first period to head down to Glass Jaw, primarily because of the air conditioning. It was too hot to participate in any actual boxing.

Or at least that's what I had planned on telling everyone, should I be challenged.

Honestly, I hadn't boxed in over a year. Physically, I didn't believe I could. I was beginning to develop smoker's lungs and I was afraid it'd kill me. I had been paying off Burton to avoid gym, and making excuses wherever money couldn't get me out of exercising. Was it a pain? Of course. But what else was I to do?

I knew that blaming the heat on my lack of activity was a sad excuse, especially since we were in an air conditioned building. But that was the excuse I had.

Tad and I made ourselves comfortable in the gym wet bar. Tad fixed me and him some drinks while I watched the boxing ring from the overlooking window. Justin was there, fighting Bryce. Justin was big on sports and he was quite the notable boxer. He was such a scraggy-looking thing, all skin and bone. If I hadn't known for a fact how good he was, I would have never believed that he was talented at sports. He had no meat on him, no muscle.

"Hey," came Tad's voice from behind me. I turned to face him. "Want your drink or what?"

He pressed the glass into my chest. It was just an iced water. That's all I asked for. I had no clue what Tad was drinking, but it looked like something I'd usually have: brightly colored and fruity.

"I tell you, Gord," he started as we seated ourselves on the sofa. "You got me hooked on these pomegranate drinks."

Virgin drinks they were, but pretending made us feel classier.

"Glad I could help."

I knew that I had laughed, but I must have sounded down. "What's wrong?"

"Hm? Nothing's wrong."

"Well, that's good then. I was afraid you'd pass away in your room last night." He chuckled.

I stared at him. "Pardon?"

"Well, you went to your room fairly early last night and didn't come out at all until this morning. We were all worried you'd die in there."

Oh! That's right. That previous night I had told everyone I was feeling sick and not to disturb me. Of course I wasn't; that was my excuse to slip out to find the Townies without being reported missing.

"Oh, yeah, well…"

He laughed. "You run out of smokes quickly, I must say."

I was an easy book for Tad to read.

"Oh my, I actually had to ask those dropout kids to buy them for me."

He made a bitter face. "Eugh, those children are terrible."

"Yes, but as terrible as they are, asking them is far easier than walking down to the Greasers' territory."

Tad nodded, as though he could imagine.

"I passed Justin on my way back to the school. He told me he was vandalizing the Greasers but I have this suspicion that he was…" I paused to take a sip from my water.

"That he was what?"

And I almost choked.

Tad turned to look at him in the doorway. "Oh, Justin! What's up?"

He was in his robe, his hands still wrapped in boxing tape and hair sticking to his forehead from sweat.

"Not too much. I came up to get some water." He gave me a smirk.

I was dreadfully uncomfortable. I watched him intently as he sauntered over to the bar. He knew I was uncomfortable, I could tell by the way he moved. There was a certain cockiness in his step.

"How about that match? Who won?"

"I let Bryce win because I feel bad for him. You know his father just lost a huge share from the stock market?"

Tad raised his brows. "Wow. Glad I'm not him."

Justin laughed at that, grabbing a bottled water from behind the bar. "So, Gord. Please excuse me for interrupting you. Continue." He grinned, leaning on the bar surface.

I looked down at my glass in hand. "Um… I forget what I was talking about."

He was so annoying.