Let's see what was going on back in the cafeteria. Thanks for reviewing, PrincessCrystalgem and Gucci Mane LaFlare.

Gwen surveyed this new kid. He was taller than her, but then, most everyone was. He had a guitar case slung over his shoulder. He had black hair that looked like it was messy on purpose, and his green eyes captivated her. And to match, his clothes were the same colours. She could just about see a green shirt and black jeans, but over it all he wore a long black trench coat. And somehow, he even made that look cool.

"You know, you shouldn't care what those girls think," the guy said,. He sounded serious, but he was smiling at her, disarmingly, as if she was special. "I heard you trying to stop them at first. You know just as well as I do that the girl you just helped them prank will be crushed."

Gwen scowled at him. Why was someone she didn't even know criticizing her? "Um, excuse me?"

"I'm just saying," the guy shrugged, keeping his eyes on hers, making her feel like the only person in the room. "I wouldn't usually bother, but you seem like a decent person. But you have to work on staying decent. It's easy to be evil. No one said it's easy to be good." He made to walk off, but Gwen stopped him. She wasn't quite sure if she liked the way he was talking to her, but she was sure she didn't like the effect his words were having on her conscience.

"Um, don't just spout some philosophical stuff about good and evil to me and then act like it's nothing!" she said hotly. "I mean, who do you think you are? As a matter of fact, who are you?"

The guy turned back, looking straight at her and raised an eyebrow at her tone. "I know who I am. Maybe you should be asking yourself that question."

The other girls came back just in time to see the guy turning around and stalking away from Gwen, but looking over his shoulder just long enough to look at her one more time. His green eyes seemed curious, like he wanted to say more to her, but wasn't sure what it was he wanted to say.

"Found a new friend?" Heather said, malice lighting up her grey eyes. "You have to be careful who you talk to, Gwen. Talk to enough losers and you won't get to talk to us anymore."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. He was the one who talked to me. I don't even know his name. Weirdo." Though a pretty good-looking weirdo, she admitted to herself. She'd always had a bit of a thing for boys who could play the guitar, no matter how many times she told herself that it was stupid to like something so cliché.

And there was something Gwen got to see a few minutes later that really drew her to the strange-looking boy. As time passed, she saw Chase and Ripper coming up to the corner table he was sitting at. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but their stances were aggressive. The guy stood up, towering over them, too. He said something to them. Then Chase said something to Ripper. She guessed what was going on – Ripper would hold the guy back as Chase set upon him – he was small, but his hits were painfully sharp, while Ripper was all muscle. But then, at that moment, almost the whole school heard the commotion as Ripper started yelling, suffering a guitar case to the balls. All eyes were on the fight.

Gwen didn't usually approve of fights, but something about the guy's reaction caught her. When he swung the case at Ripper, he'd done it as if it was just an irritating chore, just doing it lazily with a totally blank expression. He didn't seem to want to fight, but felt he had to finish it now the jocks had started it. By the time the fight was over, Chase was on the ground too, having suffered a few hits to the face as well as an encounter with the guitar case.

Back at Gwen's house in the afternoon, while the girls were getting ready for the party, Heather teased her about it. "You were totally about to throw your panties at the new kid," she joked. "Don't deny it, I saw the way you looked at him."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Come on, I don't even know him. I even asked him who he was, and he still wouldn't tell me his name."

"You still like him, though!" Courtney chimed in. "I mean-"

Heather cut her off, "Excuse moi! I am trying to talk to my friend." Gwen resisted the urge to tell Heather that Courtney was supposed to be her friend too and she, Gwen, despised her.

"Either way," Heather went on, "You can drool over whoever you like, I don't care, but you know you can't date him, right? Maybe you should find someone at the party tonight. If you don't, I'll have to think about setting you up with someone."

Gwen gave a sigh. "Okay," she muttered. "Just don't set me up with Ripper or Chase. I don't want to die of toxic gas poisoning or get maimed from some crazy stunt."

"You'll get who you get," Heather said sharply. "Anyway, we better motor if we want to be ready on time. And don't forget, you're getting the snacks on the way."

Gwen didn't say anything, even though she really wanted to argue. She didn't even want to go to the party – but she knew that she couldn't just quit the clique. If she tried to leave, she knew she'd drop lower on the social totem than she was and things would be even worse than they were before. Being popular wasn't as easy as she'd thought it would be, but it was better than being at the bottom of the social heap, so low that even the "losers" would harass her.

It was only at the Seven-Eleven that night that it occurred to Gwen, via a chance encounter, that she did have options left for her. One had presented itself to her, even though she didn't know it.

"Gwen!" Heather yelled just before she went in, hanging out of the Porsche window (they'd all decided to take Heather's car, since it was the most impressive). "Don't forget the Corn Nuts!"

"And grape soda!" Lindsay called from the back. "Chase never has it and I need it to mix!"

"Yes, I know!" Gwen called back. "Plain Corn Nuts or BQ?"

"BQ!" Heather practically shrieked the words.

It was a relief to duck inside the world of florescent lights and fast, convenient snacks. Gwen started collecting snacks rapidly like crazy, until she heard a voice.

"Hey."

She looked up. It was him again, the weird new kid. He didn't have his guitar case, or a guitar, with him this time, but it was the same outfit he was wearing earlier today. He was holding a cup with red slush in it.

"Want a Slurpee?" he asked, gesturing to the slushie machines.

Gwen smiled in spite of herself. "Nah, I don't drink that stuff. I might let you buy these snacks for me if you're extra nice, though."

The guy looked a bit amused. "You're coming to a Seven-Eleven and you don't even drink slushies? You should try one. They're better for your health than you think. Mental health. I'm sure you could use that. I'll buy."

Gwen shook her head. "Thanks, but I don't really want your money. Your name would be good, though. You didn't tell me what it was before. Oh, and I'm Gwen."

The guy nodded. "Sorry. It's the high school environment…it makes me feel a bit crazy. I'm Trent."

Gwen smiled again. "So, Trent, what brings you here, since you started this year late?"

"My dad's work," Trent explained. "He does deconstruction. You know, blowing up decrepit buildings and smashing antique walls. We're always moving around. I was all set to get out of there, emancipated, whatever, but my dad let me get a motorbike as a bribe to keep me with him until I'm eighteen."

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you a Rebel Without A Cause. A motorbike and a guitar?"

"Um, I don't smoke yet," Trent offered with a little smirk. "It's not good for my health."

"You drink pure sugar," Gwen countered.

"Well, I need something to get me through life," Trent admitted. "We all need something to get past all the hard stuff. Everyone's got troubles."

At that moment, they heard a car honking, and Heather yelling for Gwen to step on it and come back.

"Like that?" Gwen said, rolling her eyes. "You've got a point, sort of. I mean, I don't even really like my so-called friends."

"I don't like your friends, either."

"But they protect me," Gwen sighed, "So I put up with them. I better go – I'm supposed to be getting snacks for a party."

"You sure you want to go?" Trent asked her. "I mean, you have an option. You could hang here instead. I could sell you on slushies."

Gwen scoffed. "No, you couldn't. Besides, why would I want to hang out in the King of Tacky? Does your mom even know you spend all this time here?"

"Not anymore," Trent replied. "I didn't go here so much when she was alive. It's only been since my dad and I have been moving around. I have nothing else to anchor me."

Gwen's mouth dropped open. She was mortified. She never would have said something like that if she'd known Trent's mom was dead.

"Anyway, I like it here," Trent went on, not seeming to notice her regret. "It doesn't matter where I'm living, every Seven-Eleven is the same. It's one of the things in my life I can keep coming back to. And as for slushies…well, when everything gets too much, I just let the brain freeze take over and numb my feelings. You sure you don't want to try it? It's a major rush."

He held out his cup.

Gwen looked unsure, but something in her made her take the cup, and take a complimentary straw for herself to take a long gulp. "I don't see what the – son of a bitch!" she gasped as the brain freeze hit. "I don't get why you like it."

"Makes me forget how shitty my life is," Trent explained. "I thought you might be able to use it too. But we can discuss it another time."

Just as Gwen was giving the cup back to Trent, Heather finally burst in. "Come on, Gwen," she said impatiently. "Stop flirting with the James Dean cosplayer and let's go!"

Gwen let Heather drag her out of the store, shooting an apologetic look at Trent. He nodded at her sympathetically.

As Gwen got back into the car, she caught sight of a motorbike nearby.

I needed to answer a certain question that comes up later on in the musical. "How'd you find my address?" She recognized the vehicle, of course! And yeah, and if you're wondering why I said James Dean cosplayer…well, in the movie and musical, did you notice that JD's name was nearly identical, just using a much more popular first name from the era? Also, I know you guys probably wanted Trent to say "Greetings and salutations", but that's just not his style.