Upon further interrogation of Tad later that morning, I learned that it was actually Chad's idea for us all to get together, not Justin's. Chad had invited Tad, Pinky, Justin, and a few others, but not me. It was Justin who wanted me to join.

I knew just what he was up to. Surely he figured it would be the perfect opportunity to humiliate me in front of everyone. All of the Preps would be there at The Vale Centennial Garden, and Justin could easily expose my dirty secrets to them. He'd seize me by the shoulders and call for the others to form a circle around us, where he'd then tell them everything. Vandervelde probably had photos, written reports, and witnesses prepared, and honestly, I couldn't think of any way I could possibly retaliate.

They'd all point and laugh at me, calling me filthy names, and perhaps even kick me from the clique in their storm of hatred. I felt so ashamed, and it hadn't even happened yet.

Perfect, indeed.

I remained in my room until around four, lying in bed while fruitlessly attempting to take my mind off of my reputational fate, when Tad had burst in and demanded I get out of bed to be social. He pulled me out of my covers by the arm, ignoring the fact that I had purposely gone limp in his grip as a form of lazy rebellion.

"Okay, Gord," he began sternly once he was able to stand me up on my feet. The pain at the base of my head was the least of my issues at that moment. "You are going to go out and have a good time tonight, whether you like it or not."

I glared at him. For such a good friend of mine, he was being notably irritating. "Why are you doing this to me?" Tad certainly knew damn well that Justin was not my favorite person to be around. What reason could he possibly have to do this to me?

"Because you've been in your room all day long, and I'm worried about your mental health."

Hmph. If he were truly concerned with my mental health, he wouldn't be dragging me out of the sanctity of my bedroom to be around that Vandervelde. I rolled my eyes. "Just let me rest for a few more minutes," I moaned, attempting to make it back to my mattress.

No such luck. Tad seized me by the wrist, forcing me to face him once again. "There'll be plenty of time to rest after we get back from hanging out tonight."

I could have sobbed.

Tad was ruthless. He abrasively ordered me to pick out a nice outfit for our outing and practically threw me into the shower afterwards (going so far as to wait in the bathroom with me to ensure I wasn't doing something off task, and even smelling my hair when I was done). I bathed quickly, taking no time to be thorough, and I couldn't be bothered to use any conditioner.

He threatened to yell at me should I keep up my resistance, but continued to remind me of how good looking I could be if I actually tried, as though that would encourage me. But not even something as thrilling as getting dressed up or grooming myself could bring my mood to an appropriate level that day.

When I was finished putting on my outfit, compared to my ordinary self, I looked unkempt. I didn't bother to tuck in my shirt or put on a tie, I chose an out of season pair of shoes, and I left my watch on the dresser. I looked sloppy, almost as sloppy as Hopkins. I was lacking the willpower to make myself look high class, or to even try to be happy at all. I couldn't help but be unenthusiastic.

This was it for me. It all ended here. And because of this, I saw no point in doing anything productive or fun. Who would?

I emerged from my closet several minutes after getting clothed, taking a much shorter amount of time than I usually would have. On a regular day, I'd take into consideration every possible outfit combination that I could make and try them all on to see which one I liked the best. But right then, I didn't care.

Tad looked me over, a slight grimace on his face. It was clear that he didn't think I looked my best. "Uh, alright then..."

I sighed. "Yes, I know. I look absolutely stunning, don't I?"

He scratched the back of his head, forcing himself to find a compliment to give me. "Well, at least you won't get taken into the station for indecent exposure." He laughed, honest and bold, as though this were somehow funny.

I glowered at him. Oh yes, it was almost as though this were the funniest thing in the world.

I was growing fairly used to that spot between peoples' handlebars. What was once cold and uncomfortable, I was subtly becoming more and more accustomed with. Tad's handlebars were much more preferable compared to Duncan's. Unlike Duncan's bike (or rather, whoever the bike originally belonged to), it didn't leave the seat of my pants coated in chipped paint or rust like an old fence. Tad took good care of his bicycles, and when he was unable to do so, he went out and bought a new one.

A brand new bike, not a bike from a brand new person.

Still, I felt odd. We didn't receive any elongated stares, but several townspeople did stop to look our way, probably confused as to why someone like me needed to sit on these handlebars rather than ride a bike of his own. It was a bit embarrassing, having to resort to such things due to my lack of personal bike. But it wasn't unbearable.

Now, if someone were to see me riding my Townie friend's handlebars, that would most certainly ruin me.

Er, I mean, Trash Heap's handlebars. Not my Townie friend. I silently cursed him for embedding such an idea within my subconscious.

The Vale Centennial Garden was right next to the Spencer Estate and served as a great meeting point for our clique when the beach was too crowded, or when Tad's father was having a meltdown and wouldn't let us inside their house. It wasn't a popular place for us to hang out, but it was a nice area for when there weren't any better spots.

Pinky was there to meet us at the front entrance, a smile spread across her face and a sparkle of happiness in her eyes. "Tad, you did it!" she said ecstatically as we dismounted from his bike. "I didn't think you'd be able to coax him out of that room of his!"

She was her usual happy, bubbly, lovable self, but I was still angry with her for assaulting me last night. I glared at her, although she didn't appear to notice.

Tad laughed. "Well, it wasn't easy." He slapped me on my back, causing me to flinch. "But ol' Gordo is always up for a chance to get all gussied up, you know him."

Pinky smiled at that, looking over my appearance afterwards. "Well, why didn't you let him get gussied up, then?"

Tad snorted, and the two of them laughed together. My two best friends, mocking me at a time like this.

I almost growled. "Oh, yes, ha-ha! Laugh it up, you two! I'm in the midst of an emotional crisis and all you think to do is laugh at me? What is this?"

Pinky gathered herself. "Oh, hush. Anyways, Justin is looking for you, Gord. He wants to talk."

I sighed. Fantastic.

"Hey everyone!" Tad called as the three of us entered the park together. I didn't want any attention put on me, especially not when I looked like this, and I figured that was already perfectly clear, but my sod of a friend practically demanded that all eyes were focused on us. "Look who I managed to find!" He slapped me on the chest with the back of his hand, chuckling before making eye contact with me.

I was not enjoying this one bit, and I didn't even have to try to get my face to show that.

Tad's smile quickly diminished with one look at my expression, and he cleared his throat before leading me by the arm over to Justin, who was shooting hoops by himself while idly talking with Bryce on the side.

Chad was lounging on the benches and chatting with Parker, seeming relaxed and at ease, but looked up to shoot me a dirty look as we walked further into the park. My chest tightened. Justin had probably already told him that I stole his bike or something, the prat. I was beginning to feel sick.

"Hey, Justin," Tad called. "Guess who made it!" He presented me to Vandervelde, and I wearily obliged. "It's Gord! He got all dressed up just for the occasion."

Oh, shut up already.

Justin turned to face me, grinning widely, his basketball tucked under his arm. That grin of his transitioned into an amused grimace upon looking over my appearance. "I can see that."

"We'll leave you two alone," Pinky said as they dismissed themselves.

Fabulous. We were alone.

I couldn't find the strength to make eye contact with Vandervelde, who was looking down on me with an air of contempt. I felt like he expected me to say something, to greet him, to ask why I was here, but nothing came from me.

He finally sighed. "Would you care to go for a walk?" he offered.

With no response, I followed Justin out the west exit of the park, towards the path in front of Tad's house.

Neither of us were eager to break the silence as we walked, my head hanging towards the ground and Justin's hands in his pockets, dragging his feet lazily. It was an uncomfortable silence, nerving and tense. Well, at least on my part.

I kept glancing over to Vandervelde, who didn't appear to be affected by the quiet. He looked calm, perhaps even a bit bored.

This was useless.

"So..." I might as well. "Pinky says you'd like to talk with me about something."

Justin looked towards me, taking a deep breath as though he were bracing himself for what was soon to be said.

That took me by surprise. I had expected him to smirk at my statement, to laugh cunningly or give me some snarky comment. 'Ah, yes, that...' was what I had anticipated to hear from him. That would have been predictable. But his unexpected action made me anxious. What could possibly be said that Justin Vandervelde couldn't even smirk at?

"Look..." He came to a halt, taking me by the shoulders to get me to stop with him. "I'm not going to tell anyone anything, okay?"

Those words took me a moment to process, but when they finally did, my heart skipped a beat. Was he serious? How could this be? "Y-You're not?"

He let go of me, looking away as if he were ashamed. "No..."

What... was going on?

"Listen, Chad and I were able to work out our differences, so I have no reason to expose you to everyone and humiliate you." He grinned. "Besides, I think Pinky humiliated you enough last night, anyways."

Damn it. "Pinky did not humiliate me last night, Vandervelde. She hit me with a cricket bat! It was a cheap shot!"

Justin snorted. "That isn't what she told me."

"Well, whatever she told you, she was being insincere!" I turned away from him, arms crossed and nose to the air. "And I was never worried about you. I went through all that because I simply wanted Chad to get his bike back. Nothing you could do would ever humiliate me."

"So, does that mean you'd be okay with me telling everyone everything?" I could feel him smirking behind me.

My eyes widened. "Well, I never said that..."

Vandervelde chuckled. "Tell you what, Gord. This is childish. Let's just forget that any of this had ever happened. Sound fair?"

I turned back to look at him, meeting with an extended palm welcoming mine to shake. Although I had no reason to, I trusted his words. "Well, okay, I suppose," I concluded, sealing our deal with my hand in his.

He let go of my palm, not even bothering to wait until I was out of sight to wipe it on his sweater. I internally groaned.

"Anyways, even if Pinky hadn't humiliated you last night like you said, you can be certain that your clothes are doing that for her."

I scowled at him. After all that, he still had the nerve to be disrespectful towards me? "Shut up, Vandervelde!"