Virgil wouldn't ever tell Charlie that he loved the mornings he drove to school alone. He could just listen to his music, push against the crisp, morning air with his fingers, and enjoy the sunrise every time he reached a stop. When Charlie told him his mom would drop him off later that day, Virgil fist-pumped internally; having a relaxing morning was rare since he'd offer to pick Charlie up for school at the beginning of the year. He took advantage and enjoyed every minute of the drive over, hoping that the rest of the day would be as perfect.

He was wrong.

Without taking the detour to Charlie's house, he thought he would've gotten to the school parking lot earlier than usual, but it wasn't early enough. He saw Stephanie open the passenger door to Derek's truck as he turned off his ignition.

Crap.

There was no way he was going to walk into school at the same time they were. What could he say? Their lives had slowly been going down different paths since…that happened, but it felt like something had had officially broken since Stephanie and Derek started dating last year. Virgil avoided them at all cost since he found out. Even greeting them with a simple wave would've felt weird, for a lot of reasons. The biggest one? Virgil had liked Stephanie since they were in 7th grade. He remembered he had hoped to change that during their freshman year, told Derek that after being friends with her since 3rd grade, he was ready to tell her he liked her. But then…well, yeah.

Stephanie and Derek walked up to the main entrance like they were straight out of a teen drama, hand-in-hand. Stephanie's cheer jacket was slung over one shoulder, and Derek had an annoying amount of swagger with each step. They were laughing, leaning into each other like no one else existed. Virgil looked away.

It was probably for the best.

She deserved to be with someone who was at the top of the food chain and treated her well. And at the very least, he could be happy for Derek, who got his dream come true. The morning that happened, Derek had promised he wasn't going to let his scrawny build stop him from joining the football team. Remembering that bus ride over made his heart twist. Underneath the jealousy, he felt sad. They were a trio for so long, now Stephanie and Derek were two halves of a perfect couple and he was just background noise.

When he glanced up again, they were gone. Awesome. He put his earphones in and as corny as it was, settled for some Linkin Park on his MP3 for the walk to World Civ. He tried to look on the bright side: at least he beat Zeke Thompson to school so his music wouldn't get interrupted by the annoyingly loud motorcycle revving. Not that he'd ever tell the guy to his face; Virgil wouldn't ever be able to beat someone as tall as he was even if he knew kung fu.

Class was whatever. They were starting a "Broadcast Through Time" project, making a radio station that existed in the decade assigned by Ms. Rhodes. It sounded like a fun project that Virgil was looking forward to starting. They were given free reign to choose everything—the music, news, jingles, ads—and they had to present the "broadcast" with their partner. Some people let out an annoyed groan; the requirement of awkwardly performing in front of the entire class took some of the fun out of it.

"Okay, find a partner."

Virgil tried not to panic. A majority of his classmates were juniors, like him, so they knew about what happened during freshman year. If he was lucky, he'd get Patrick—the kid who desperately needed to slather on an extra layer of deodorant—to split the work with. He was turning to look in Patrick's direction when he saw the new girl still sitting in her desk. She was staring down at her fingers as she picked at them.

Being the new kid so late into your high school days could go one of two ways. Unfortunately for her, it was seemingly gonna go the bad way, sealing her fate as the "loner." He felt for her. Everyone here had three years to get to know each other at this point. They weren't gonna give her the time of day when they could just hang out with their friends. Virgil grabbed his things and walked over. "Hey. You look like someone who appreciates awkward small talk and B-minus historical impressions."

She looked up, wary at first, and tugged at the sleeves of her oversized hoodie to hide her hands. The bright morning sky reflected off her light brown eyes, making them seem cold as she stared at him quietly.

"I'm Virgil Fox. Not like the news station, I get that a lot—though we could name our broadcast Fox News, if you wanna be time-traveling disc jockeys with me?" Virgil shrugged and offered a hopeful grin.

She blinked. "You want to be my partner?"

"Yeah, why not? You'd be doing me a huge favor. I know for a fact I'm gonna get stuck with Patrick and, I swear," he leaned down to whisper, "something's been dead in his pits for years."

The admission made her snort, and she brought her hand up to cover her mouth.

Virgil straightened and made prayer hands. "Please? Pretty please? Don't make me work with him."

There we go. A genuine smile. Virgil felt a flicker of satisfaction settle over him.

"Sure, no problem." Her eyes seemed warmer than they were a few moments ago.

"Yes! Thank you!" No smelly Patrick for this project. Virgil was relieved and he took the seat in front of her. "Lexi, right?"

"Yeah."

Virgil grinned at her and put his hand up for a fist-bump. "Nice to meetcha."

The fabric of her sleeve covered her knuckles as she bumped him. "You too."

After school, the stage was alive with rehearsals—lines flying across the space, footsteps echoing as actors scrambled to hit their marks. The faint buzz of the speakers hummed in the background, a steady reminder of Virgil's role in keeping everything running smoothly. He flipped through his clipboard, his pen tapping rhythmically as he marked off each completed sound cue.

"Door creak?" He muttered to himself, toggling the soundboard switch. A satisfying groan echoed through the speakers. He checked it off.

"Thunderclap?" Another flick of the switch. A low rumble rolled across the stage. Check.

Finally, his pen landed on the next cue: bird song. He glanced at the actors rehearsing their forest scene and toggled the soundboard again. High-pitched chirps filled the room, cheerful and bright. Sounded like a crisp, clear melody of nature's finest.

"Check." Virgil was about to move onto the next item on the checklist when he noticed Jeanette Pachelewski, extravagant freshman, frowning up at the speakers with a prop bird in her hands. She was probably the quirkiest girl he'd ever met, and part of the reason was because her outfits looked like she made them herself. They were fun and vibrant, usually paired with matching (seemingly homemade) necklaces, bracelets and earrings. Occasionally, Virgil appreciated her creativity. That day, for instance, she was wearing jeans that were woven with a white, lacey ribbon along the seam. It tied into a neat bow near the hem. It looked like something Stephanie would have found cute. Virgil swallowed, pushing the thought away.

"Jeanette? Is everything okay?" he called out.

Jeanette planted one hand firmly on her hip, holding the foam bird up in the other one like it was evidence in a crime scene. "These birds don't make that sound, Goldfinch!"

Virgil's lips pressed into a fine line. It still felt a little weird to be addressed with a bird nickname, but he didn't wanna be mean and tell her to stop.

"Not to mention," she frowned at the bird as she got a closer look at it, "these look like…depressed pigeons."

Virgil laughed, leaning against the soundboard. "What, like they've been paying rent for too long? Going through a midlife crises, all that jazz?"

"Look at it!" Jeanette walked over and she held the bird close to his face. One of the eyes looked like it was about to fall off.

"Yeesh." Virgil grimaced. "I'd find Erica, the stage manager, and talk to her about these. I think she's in the back hall."

"I should." She looked down at the bird again. "What are these even supposed to be?"

"That's a good question."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Virgil chuckled and put a note next to the bird sounds on his checklist. Reevaluate cue—pigeons maybe?

"Virgil? Virgil!"

He looked up to see Charlie stomp on stage, scanning the cast and crew quickly until he spotted him near the soundboard.

"Ah! Good news." Charlie pointed at him with his rolled-up notebook. Virgil had tried to roll up his own notebooks like that in private, but Charlie's was the only one that could do that from how worn out and used it was. "Albert's first vet appointment went well."

"Thank God. I was losing sleep over that," Virgil mumbled absently, flipping to the next page on his clipboard. "How's the little guy holding up?"

"He's fine, but that's not why I'm here." Charlie dropped his open notebook on the clipboard, almost making Virgil drop it.

"Dude!"

"I need your expertise. I'm close to perfecting a communicator for Albert, and with your audio engineering skills, I'll be able to understand what his meows mean."

Virgil saw the rough design on the open page and handed the notebook back to Charlie. "So, like a translator? Something like that could make you millions, Charlie."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Making a fortune isn't the goal here. I just want to be able to converse with Albert Felinestine."

"You know you could talk to your cat without putting in all this extra effort, right?" Virgil deadpanned. "What if the translator doesn't work and it tells you he wants to start a family in Paraguay or something?"

"I'm not concerned about that, the programming is all but guaranteed to work," Charlie muttered as he stared off into space, the tell-tale sign that Virgil lost him. "If anything, I need to figure out whether he'd want me to make him a rat toy or a cat toy."

"And why can't you just buy him a regular old toy from the store?"

Charlie frowned at him as if he said something offensive. "Have you seen what they offer? I couldn't make them mentally stimulate him if I tried."

Virgil didn't wanna continue this discussion, Charlie was barely letting him contribute as it was. The checklist needed to be finished pronto, and it would be impossible to do it if Charlie was still hovering around. He snapped his fingers at the realization of a solution.

"You know what? Jeanette's your girl."

"Excuse me?" Charlie raised a brow.

"Jeanette Pachelewski." Virgil jerked a thumb toward the hallways backstage. "She's looking for the stage manager. Knows everything about birds. If I had a cat, I'd want a toy that wouldn't lead to scratches on my floors."

Granted, he'd prefer the floor to the walls or curtains, as the bird would surely cause. But he decided not to mention that.

Charlie's expression shifted, his eyes lighting up with realization. He snapped his own fingers. "You're right. Let me just…"

With a determined look, Charlie headed to the back halls.

"Look for the white bows!" Virgil called before went back to reviewing his checklist.

Author's Note: This is a revamp of a story I hold near and dear. I will do my best to have the characters and premise live up to their potential (ESPECIALLY Jeanette and Stephanie, those girls had so much going for them!). Yes, there will be a better development of friendship because I love me a strong trio and ensemble friendship (and yes, there will be romance). I dunno, let me know if the little changes work if you made it this far.