Hey, been a while since I updated, but it's been quite busy. But how do you like this now?

"So, who's this Gag-Barf you keep talking about?" Miriam asked me.

I didn't quite hear her question the first time, as I was still rummaging around in my tote, checking to see if I had everything.

I should probably mention – I had gotten an extra backpack for my schoolbooks, but I always carried my tote bag around no matter what. It's yellow and blue striped, with a little blue yarn-and-pop-tab charm on the zipper pull (courtesy of yours truly) and yellow shoulder straps. I'd always stashed my snacks, tools, and crafting materials in that bag. Nice to have your items in one place.

However, I'd sewn in some extra pockets, mostly on the inside. These were mainly for some little projects I was working on with mi zorramigo. (By the way, that last word's a portmanteau of zorro – which was Spanish for fox – and amigo, and obviously it was the way I referred to Tails.) Over the summer, I hadn't just tweaked the clawed gloves I regularly wore for self-defense (adding a neat safety switch, I will say), I'd added some other sick devices to my arsenal.

At present, I had the Speeder Traps, a pair of glue bombs which would catch and snag a speeding car's tires; the Rope Swiper, a powerful machete capable of sawing through hard wires and which folded into a compact stick, like a jackknife, for storage; and the Gravitas, a device shaped like a teeny-tiny trampoline. This particular one was one to look out for – when someone pressed down on its top – or up into its base – it could alter the effect of gravity on everyone but the one who triggered it. Tails had come up with that last one based on Rouge the Bat's gravity powers, and he'd left it with me because I'd be the only one loco enough to test it.

And of course, there was the Freqorder – pronounce that freak order – a cassette player I'd turned into a recording device during the first few days of school. I'd gotten the device from a homeless girl who'd found it lying around and heard of my work with useless junk. (Dios mio, I've got quite the reputation, don't I?) It was a bittersweet memory, though, since the girl – and her child – were subsequently lost in a fire – a fire that will live on in infamy as the undoing of Richard Camford.

"Excuse me?!" Miriam snapped me out of my thoughts – which honestly wasn't that hard for her to do. Her squawky voice was jarring enough at a low volume, but since she was Amos' old friend, and frequently dropped in on our meetings, I was pretty used to it by now (as long as she didn't shout, anyway). I'd best answer her before she scared away the pigeons with her shrieking.

"¿Sí?" I asked.

"I asked you a question."

I rolled my eyes at her. I'm sorry, but Miriam was getting on my nerves right now. My patience only goes so far.

It was fairly hard to miss Miriam, anyhow, even without her yelling or even speaking at all. She had three or four inches on me – not petite height at all, but not tall, either – but she made up for that by having a very distinct color scheme. She was presently wearing a teal Mitchells vs. the Machines t-shirt, teal pants and pink Nikes, which she still had her skate blades on over. Her hair was copiously streaked with turquoise, to the point of it halfway taking over the brown. Stuffed animals lined her waist, for reasons I couldn't explain.

But what tipped me off as to how she might know anything concerning our gay-bi crisis was the rainbow badge on her purse. She seemed to endorse Pride a little too much, but she didn't go overboard with it on her outfit. Which was just as well, since her parents were both highly religious, and Amos certainly wouldn't have tolerated it, either.

"GABAFFS," I responded. I'd called her already from Amos' phone. (Amos knew her cell, and I didn't have a phone myself, because reasons.) I'd tried to explain the situation to her, but of course she had something else planned. It transpired that Miriam wanted to compete at a roller derby down 3rd Street, which I couldn't pass up. I needed information that badly.

Then the event kinda went south. It wasn't bad exercise, but Miriam's soundtrack was awful. Seriously, who plays Shaed for a rollerblading derby? Besides, Miriam just wouldn't shut up.

"It still sounds like you want to hurl," Miriam responded, skating in a little closer. "Or what does it stand for, anyway?"

I resisted the urge to shove Miriam into the fenceline.

"Gay and Bisexual Alliance for Freedom of Speech," I muttered, trying not to sound annoyed.

"Wow. Just wow. Haven't heard that one in a while." Miriam glanced sideways at me. "What are they antagonizing you guys about?"

How did she guess VLADJI had a problem with them? One minute she seemed a little ditzy. The other, she was looking straight into your soul. I could never tell which side she was. And they call me unpredictable.

"They set up a Pride flag at my school," I replied. "You know Fairview High?"

"The one Amos is going to? With you guys? And how is setting up a Pride flag on school grounds a problem?"

You really don't know us, do you? I thought. I often thought of Miriam as grossly misinformed about the problems VLADJI combatted, and this was one of those occasions. "Sí. Got that first one right. The problem is that the school is dedicated to patriotism. It's set up to have kids learn the right things – useful skills for the workforce – instead of just being preached to. Besides, GABAFFS set up the flag without clearing it with Phillips – or the rest of the board, for that matter – which is a serious violation of school policy."

"Is it really a violation to set up a Pride flag?"

She doesn't know the full story, Vinny Lee, I scolded myself. She does not need to be punched.

"I just said the school is dedicated to patriotism. American patriotism. A flag representing a small group of people within a whole large mass of nation, that is not very patriotic. Besides, shouldn't the school focus on better priorities?"

"I just think you might be overreacting –"

"Overreacting?!" I grabbed Miriam by the shirt collar. I am a patient girl, but I had had quite enough of people telling me what I should or shouldn't be losing it over. Because when I lose it, I usually have a good reason. "FYI, I am shaking off a gender crisis. I don't need Pride flags in the equation. I certainly don't need any panderers telling me what to believe about myself. Been there. Done that. So lay off my life, Miriam!"

Which was right when I caught a vehicle running loose in the distance, turning around in awkward circles. Probably not good.

Miriam got very quiet. While I didn't approve of what she got into regularly, I realized I might have been a tad too harsh with her.

"You know where GABAFFS' headquarters is located, right?" I asked her in a softer tone of voice, letting go of her shirt, which nearly sent her into the street as she was still on her wheels. I might have found that satisfying, but I was still concerned with the car loose in the street. The way it was driving sent a phantom squirrel up my throat.

Miriam went silent for a count of ten. I hoped I hadn't hurt her feelings by calling her a panderer, and I was starting to regret bringing the subject up with her. (This was the exact reason DJ had the Three Taboos in place, after all.)

Then she finally said, "William McKinley School. They like to hang out in the halls after hours."

That made total sense. If they were going to hang out anywhere in this city, at least they would hang out in a public school. I'd never liked those kinds of schools (mainly because I was bullied in those places), and the events following Rona had not helped my prejudice against them. Why would they lock out every student and cut off their learning because they don't want to catch a little illness? Ridiculous.

Also, I highly doubted Will McK would let them show up during school hours, if it was anything inappropriate. It just had to be. If I had to take a stab, the meetings were at 10 pm. Nothing good happens after 10 pm.

"Is anyone at Will McKay in the group?" I pressed her.

"There is one guy that I'm aware of. Mitch Hollins. He's dating one of the local club bouncers. And he's pretty influential in the group at large. I'd even say he heads up the whole thing."

I watched the approaching car out of the corner of my eye as Miriam talked. It was definitely moving pretty fast. I could also catch the front grille – if you could call it that. The vehicle was a red Tesla – the most cutting edge and modern car you could find. Sleek and aerodynamic all around. The handles were replaced by handle-shaped sensors that triggered the door at the slightest touch. More metal than openings. It struck me as absurd, frankly, because I liked the feel of a handle when I opened the door. I'd lose that with a Tesla.

How could someone operate a car like that?

I also spotted something else on the street. Two people I'd never seen before were waiting at the crosswalk. One of them had messy dark hair and wore black Converses, brown trousers and a tee bearing a picture of an atom model – Rutherford's model, by the looks (sí, I could tell the difference, I did hang out with another geek), with the words Never Trust an Atom – They Make Up Everything – a gray sweat-jacket, and black glasses with thicker frames than Tails'. The other wore a red t-shirt with a Flash logo on it, gray pants and sneakers, and looked a little more like that Spock guy from Star Trek in demeanor and hairstyle. (So I'm a nerd, too. Sue me.)

I wasn't sure what they were doing, but the phantom squirrel scuttled like crazy in my throat. I remembered the car from earlier… Why did this unleash another horde of squirrels in my nervous system?

"How did you know that?" I returned to Miriam's statement about Hollins.

"I look around," Miriam replied.

"Probably in all the wrong places, as usual." It wasn't even that much of a joke. Miriam tended to head into places she really shouldn't. Her parents were constantly arguing (I was honestly surprised they hadn't called a divorce yet, as my parents had a year back), so she spent more time outside the house than she did in it. Not that I blamed her for doing that, but it resulted in her heading into some places I never, ever dared to go – not even to swipe a few recyclables.

And no, I'm not talking about gangs or muggers. I'd take those over queers any day.

"Everyone's a critic," Miriam mumbled.

I glanced over at the street and… caramba.

As I'd feared, the Tesla was going way over the speed limit. And headed straight for the geeks crossing the road!

Oh, crud. A cliffhanger! What now?

Verse for the update: John 16:33.

Please review! No flames! And furthermore, as always... [drumroll] Stay tuned!