episode two:

stuck at school
it isnt over til the snake lady sings

part six: the return, or back to fools

chapter 27: welcome back, otter

Episode 2, weve got liftoff. Exactly seven months, twenty-nine days, 1 hour and 16-and-a-half minutes after I opened my Blindsided Shades box that Christmas morning I sped out of the premises of Windstream Tower on my Smith & Yow racing bike (which Id affectionally named Lucas/Luke for inexplicable reasons that even I dont know) and raced down Flanders Road, passing Manny & Sons Beanery and Creamery, a favorite hangout of ours, and a bunch of stores before reaching my target destination of Perdedor Park. I biked through the park on Luke, passing a couple of dog owners and their pets before arriving at the bike rack on Alderney & Flanders, the intersection in front of my school. The school was a modernist building with a domed top and a strangely curvy facade that looked like it could be one of Graysons many museums, but was really Perdedor Square Middle School. I parked Luke on the rack and walked into the lobby, where giant banners signaled that the school was having a mandatory student body assembly in the outdoor amphitheater. I headed to the doors leading to the amphitheater, where (rather unsurprisingly) a large amass of teenagers and people who considered themselves pretty much teenagers were conversing. From a corner, I heard about three or four people yell, TRE! I turned towards the corner to find all eight of the others in the group all

sitting in a line, with Nora saving a seat just for me right next to her. I sprinted to the corner, where the others engaged with me in a giant tackle hug. After untangling ourselves from the dog pile we made, I asked, Well, are you guys excited that youre back? Does a criminal get excited when hes caught and shoved into a cop car? Layla asked. Hey, hopefully it wont be too bad. Freddy said this in the most optimistic way possible. (Read: Not very optimistic.) The rest of us looked at him with a stare lethal enough to kill a murder of crows. Okay, fine, it will be. But hey, at least were going down together. He sighed. The next thing that happened was a case of sheer eccentricity that only we could create. Max responded to this by singing the chorus to the song Sugar, Were Goin Down by Fall Out Boy. Originally the group responded to that with horrified looks, but eventually one of us sang Were goin down, down. I covered my mouth as soon as I realized that it was me. 10 seconds passed, and then Layla echoed my outburst. Nora followed her action, and soon enough the entirety of the group was singing Were goin down, down, in an earlier round, sugar, were goin down swingin and so on (and playing air instruments,just to make the performance that more real) until we finished the song. It was at that moment that

we all realized the whole amphitheater was eyeing us like we were some kind of crazed glee club revue from Nerdland or something. Marty looked like he was ready to knock the lights out of more than a few of them, but his brother managed his temper. to make lemonade out of lemons, I yelled to the crowd Try the General Tsaos Chicken, well be here all year! I didnt expect for it to happen, but the crowd actually started clapping after that remark. It was weird, yes, but Ill take strange acceptation over petty criticism any day. (Is acceptation even a word? I think it is.)

A few minutes after our performance, the vice principal of the school, a woman named Ms. Lizeman, took the amphitheaters stage and made a speech about the school, lockers,welcome back to Perdedor Square, et cetera, et cetera, blah blah blah for 10 minutes (which, by the way, felt like 10 hours), until finally our proper principal, Mr. Pyle, evicted her of that position. Mr. Pyle talked about the same things for 2 minutes, but he made the sting a wee bit less painful by interspersing some of his signature corny humor into the mix. Once he made a joke about how the year at Perdedor was surely not going to be dead as a dornail, he sent us to our classes.

chapter 27: samson and darcy

Like an imperfectly cut ham, the group was split in two between the classes, by way of what Perdedor referred to as teams (ironic, considering that most of the people on these so-called teams just want to kill each other). On the Opal team, there was me, Max, Grassy, Nora and Piper, while on the Ruby team, there was CiCi, Layla and the twins. For those of us on the Opal team, we had the same classes, the first of which was Social Studies. The five of us filed through the crowded grayish-brown hallways to its last door, which was marked on each of our schedules. When we all sat at our assigned seats we noticed that there was no teacher in sight for about five minutes. This changed when a tall, slightly round man with a mop of shiny brown hair and a clean shaven face walked inside the classroom. Well, heres a lot you wont find in an old folks home, huh? He spoke with a quirky British accent that Id not heard before. Yes, I know what youre prolly here thinking, who is this here daft man? He wrote Mr. Falconer on the whiteboard behind him and continued, My name is Samson Falconer, or Mr. Falconer, but I hate being called that, makes me sound too much like one of those strange businessmen. The school board, what with the corks up their butts and all of that how-do want you to call me that, but I hate it. Just call me Samson, or maybe even Sam if we get to know each other well enough, eh?

I could tell I wasnt going to have much problems with this guy. Quirky teachers tend to be the best teachers (at least from my point of view), and he didnt seem like hed be a pain to deal with. As Samson went on with the rules of the road to his class, I thought, Lets hope hes not the only teacher here with a sense of humor. Id later figure out that he wasnt. After social studies was math. We all awkwardly walked with the line/crowd thingy headed to the classroom and took our seats at a long row of desks. A few more kids trailed behind the crowd before the door was slammed shut by a pale woman with horn-rimmed glasses and dead straight brown hair. Behind her glasses and hair lied a snakelike face, almost to the point in which I doubted her being human. Seventh grade, away we go. she said in an eerily familiar fashion. I couldnt remember what it was that I felt her voice was from, but it just was. You are not in a classroom, despite what your eyes may be tricking you into seeing. This is a dictatorship, a place where all of the denizens actions and rules are managed upon by a singular authority figure. In this case, that authority figure is yours truly, also known as Ms. Darcy Bergsweier. You wont be calling me by my first name, though. Instead, you will refer to me exclusively as Ms. Bergsweier, or possibly Your Highness if youre in the royal mood.

Well, theres a way to make yourself come off as quite full of it, I thought. However, the rest of the class didn't find her to be full or herself, but rather as if she was joking, which I seriously doubted. Because of this, everyone but me laughed. Bergsweier made note of this, and as a result, singled me out by asking, "You, at the end of the row, did you not laugh?" Soon enough all of the class was eyeing me. With all the dignity I could muster, I mumbled "No, ma'am." "And why would that be so?" "I didn't find it that funny." "You must have a terrible sense of humor, then, Buckle McLaughless." At that point, the class had a field day. I shrouded myself into the embrace of my desk. "Now that Mr. McLaughless has been humiliated, let's move on to the fine topic of integers, shall we?" I was appalled. Can it be explained why would a grown woman, who was supposed to be "teaching" us give me some stupid nickname like Buckle McLaughless? That was just on the border of "weird" and "childish".

After lunch, we all had language arts, which was basically English, but for middle schoolers (and we read incredibly slow novels that were 30 years old and

basically only entertaining to old people now). As I sat down, a voice boomed, IS THAT YOUR A-SIGNED SEET? I turned to find a short and fat Russian lady looking at me with a slightly angered look on her face. Um, I dont see a seating chart, maam. I said in the most polite way I could. Well, I think that you may need to move over 2 seats and then go down 5 rows, then perhaps turn left a bit and go straight on till the morning comes. she said. I know what youre thinking, and honestly it was what I was thinking of too. Im sorry, what? SIT NEXT TO ZEE ELF OVER ZHERE! she said, pointing at Nora. Um, okay then, I guess. I moved, with an incredibly perplexed look on my face. I sat next to Nora and stated, I did not understand half of what she was just saying. Yeah, me neither, but from what I was thinking she seemed rather rude. she whispered. My name eez Mizs Aulda Callaghen. She wrote Ms. Old Callaghan on the whiteboard, which made more than a few of the students giggle. Noticing this, she added an a to Old. Not like its gonna help you now.

A few days later, after lunch was through and we were headed for language arts, Max was eyeing a girl getting her things from her locker across the hall with a look on his face I'd never expect to see on the king of the "I don't frakking care" lifestyle. It was the look most guys only get when they're either in serious like mode or just acting like it. Max was not exactly great at that kind of acting, but I checked just to make sure. "Hey, dude?" I asked, but he didn't respond. "Okay, who is she?" "Marissa McFadden, the hottest non-popular-- He paused, then looked at me and finished, and non-Nora chick on the Opal team." Despite still being in a trance, Maxie was still clever enough to know that I'd get mad if he didn't exclude Nora. Grassy started, "What, do you like her or some--" but Max grabbed his teeny lips so hard so quickly they turned blue within a moment's notice. "You say anything about this and your whole face will be blue." I snickered, but this backfired on me soon enough, for he grabbed mine just as fast. (For the record, NEVER LET MAX CROMWELL GRAB YOUR LIPS FOR MORE THAN 2 MINUTES. IT WILL KILL YOU.)

After a minute, he let us go, during which we both gasped for fresh air. "You should ask her out." Grassy peeped after catching his breath. "Noooo! I can't!" This was the most nervous I'd seen Max, well, ever. "You're overreacting." I said, covering my mouth so he wouldn't grab it again. "Okay, I'll try, but I'm going to wrap your ear around your face if it doesn't end well." Max walked to her and introduced himself. She did the same, and Max talked to her for a while before asking if she wanted to go for a cup of coffee at the Beanery and Creamery after school. She giggled at this and accepted the offer. After this, the bell rang, and the two of them walked into the Language Arts room together, Max turning around and giving us a big fat smile and a thumbs-up. "Well, he's a smooth operator." Grassy said. I laughed, and we followed them inside.

chapter 28: the trouble starts a-brewin

The first few days of school were largely normal, a rarity that I would come to envy later on in the year. Well, mostly normal. After a week passed, though, that was when all of the trouble began. I remember it vividly. On the second Monday of the year in math with Bergsweier, two guys who I'd not seen before (one of whom had a bright red hoodie on, while the other had a Nike SB shirt) came in the classroom and yelled, "Perdedor SUCKSSSSSS!" Everyone in the class turned around. "Okay, from now on we call the shots. Any of y'all got a problem with it?" the guy in the hoodie said. Nobody replied for a moment, but then a few of the class's troublemakers that were near me started to laugh and guffaw at them. The two of them came over and started to rough them up. I looked at them, disgusted at the whole thing, when all of a sudden I heard Redhood say, "Is this who I thinks it is?" I turned to him. "Oh, boy. Tre L., the living ragdoll himself." "What are you talking about?" I asked, clearly confused by this. "Does the name 'Quanell Carver' come to mind?" Oh, frak. Quanell Carver was evil in human form. I'm not just saying that. The dude was the absolute worst child you could meet

in the 4th and 5th grades. Legend has it that a kid named Tommy nearly drowned in a toilet because Quanell submerged his head in there for ten minutes straight. As for my previous encounters with Quanell, well, lets just say he was one of the wannabe gangstas/mooks Id been referring to during that flashback in Episode One. Looks to me like you havent changed a bit through the years, I thought. Well? Youre the guy who made my life a living heck during elementary school. I muttered nervously. So, you remember that, eh? Well, lets just finish what I started oh so long ago. I have a better idea. Lets not. Quanell blankly stared at me for fifteen seconds before bursting into a fit of laughter that lasted for another fifteen. After somewhat composing himself, he said, I have a question for you, Tre. Do you seriously think Im going to do that? He continued to giggle as he stated this. I dunno, you tell me. Okay, fine, but I wont be using my mouf. Oh, yeah, I forgot something. Quanell (or, as everyone called him, Q) talked like he came straight out of any black hood you could think of, except his voice

had a bit more of a southern twang to it than most of the other hood boys at the school, who were mainly from Greysons decaying Rosburgh District. I remember him saying something about his being a straight-up nawlinian or something, though I had no idea what that meant. To an extent, I still dont, though Nawlins is New Orleans, so maybe he might be from there or something. Leave my friend alone. Max came in just as Q threw up the guns. Ohhhhh, now Billy Ray Cyrith is comin in to help his little buddy. How romantic. A couple of the troublemakers and the popular chicks laughed at us. I have a girlfriend! I defended myself from his claims, just to make sure none of the influential people on the social ladder in the class got any fuel to start irreversible rumors. (Just to tell you how bad the influentials can ruin someone, a girl named Brooke got forever labeled as The Trout Sniffer because of the fact that she sniffed her fish sandwich one time at lunch in the sixth grade. Shes still called that to this very day, and shes a sophomore in high school. HIGH SCHOOL.) Are you trying to pick a fight, skaterboy? Cuz I can easily make you want that mullet back. the guy in the Nike SB shirt said. Maybe I am, maybe Im not. Max replied in a smart-aleck voice. The guy in the shirt paused for a second, before saying, I know you, you little dirtbag. Youre Max Cromwell, that stupid skater that ran away from his beatings to eventually sleep in a shopping mall.

How do you know that? Because, Im Damon Pyle, that boy you always picked fights with. Max got a worried look on his face. Aw, frak, I thought. Marissa walked toward Max and asked, Whats wrong, bud? A certain enemy of mine came back into my life. Marissa turned toward Damon, then gasped. Damon? Hello, Marissa. Miss me yet? Damon tried to spray some breath spray into his mouth, but hit his eye in the process. As he turned away in pain, Max asked her, How do you know Damon? He kind of was my boyfriend before you met me. Oh. Well, okay, just as long as you still dont, you know- Max started. No, no, no, no, nooooooooo. We are through. Marissa waved her arms outward as she said this. In his yelps of pain, Damon piped in, No, were not! Yes, we are, you selfish jerk! Marissa was mad. Im dating Max now. Damon superhumanly got over his pain in about three seconds, then asked in a low voice, What. Did. You. Just. Say? I. Am. Dating. Max. Now. Marissa said in a similar fashion. Damon stared at the two of them blankly.

Suddenly, the class bell rang, and in her strange voice Bergsweier yelled, SHUDDUP AND GET IN YOUR SEATS!!!!!! This is NOT over. At lunch, youre a dead man, little Maxi Pad Cromwell. Damon said this, followed by the Im watching you gesture. Max shuddered. That guys got problems. he said. Um, yeah, ya think? I said. His friend does, too.

chapter 29: marceline

Wait, so let me get this straight. My ex-boyfriend hated you before we met? Marissa asked. Yes, youre exactly right, Marissa. Max was growing more and more worried. Dont let him get to you, Max. I know you could whoop him if you wanted. Yeah, well, I guess youre right. Max perked up. You know what? You are right. Im not going to be afraid of him, and if he tries to puff up at me again, Ill beat his face in! Whoa, I didnt mean it like that, but if you say so, then fair enough, Im not stopping you. I said as I sat down. Out of nowhere, I heard a girl scream, OH, NO YOU DONT! The girl, a rather short young woman with grayish-brown hair, braces and thin librarians glasses on stamped toward me. GET OUTTA HERE! she yelled at me. Holy shift, whats your problem? I asked, confused by her strange behavior. My problem just so happens to be that I am in a bad mood and youre messing up my aura by sitting next to me, so LEAVE! NOW! she screeched at an inhuman pace. Leave? I sit here. This is the seat I was assigned. I groaned. Clearly I was dealing with an insane young lass, although I hadnt encountered one of her kind before that occurrence.

Mooooom, this idiot wont move from near me! she yelled. Marceline Hughes, you know that during school hours I am your teacher, not your mother. Besides, the idiot does have a point, being that he actually does sit there. Marceline groaned. Okay, Ms. Bergsweier. she said monotonously. Bergsweier thought for a second, then said, I know how to fix this problem. McLaughless, you will sit next to Mr. Carver from now on. Capisce? She pointed leftward. I turned to find her pointing at the seat next to Qs. No, no capisce. That guy hates me, and if I sit next to him he will slowly but surely tear me to shreds! I cried. Well, if that happens, you can pick up your pieces. Besides, Quanell is a fine young man, and Im sure hell be able to manage himself during class. Manage himself? Quanell Carver? What is this, some kind of sick joke? Am I on Prankd or something? How can I pick up my pieces if Im the one being torn apart? And what the frak is an aura supposed to be, anyhoo? I thought, groaning in the process. But I-- No buts. My daughters aura will get messed up when youre there, so youre moving next to Quanell. Now, go on.

I picked up my stuff and left solemnly, then plopped it down onto the empty seat next to Qs. My, my, my. The days just not going well for you, huh, Mr. Lippy. Oh, frak, not that. Mr. Lippy was what the entire fifth grade called me back in elementary school, due to a characteristic of my face that I am not proud of. I have rather large lips, a trait I inherited via falling down the staircase of Windstream Tower one time when I was about six or seven years old. It doesnt hurt too much now, but the swelling I received never really subsided, and as a result it appears that my lips are huge, not to mention slightly swollen. I would tell them this so that theyd shut up about the whole situation, but I never did. I really do not have any idea why. Dont call me that. I attempted to bury my face into my crossed arms. Before I could, Q grabbed it and started puckering my lips with his other hand, shouting, LIPPY, LIPPY, LIPPY! After he repeated this a few times, the whole class joined into the reverie of chanting my dubiously given nickname. I closed my eyes in shame, but I couldnt deny it. This was what happened when you get shafted by Darcy Bergsweier, screwed by Marceline Hughes and sent to the dungeon that is the seat adjacent to that of which is owned by Quanell Carver. The whole class was making me the source of laughter for them again, much

to my invisible, yet totally-absolutely-WHY-THE-FRAK-CANT-YOU-SEE-IT chagrin. In his grasp, I groaned again. The whole experience was wonderful, just won-der-ful, in-deed. But that was just the the tip of the iceberg known as the steaming pile of sick crap was in store for me that day.

chapter 30: food flight

After the whole debacle with Max and Damon and me, Q, Darcy and Marcy came the precious free period that is lunch. For that first week Id previously mentioned, the only period I was officially allowed to drink my daily root beer had been going fine and nobody was really causing too much trouble -- that is, until Damon got ahold of Max at our table that day after math. Youre a little punk, you know that. You run from fights, youre a skinny little worm, and now, youre going to get the beating of your life. In your dreams, you big fat fart. Everyone at the table laughed except Damon, including Marissa. Who do you think you are, McFadden? Damon snapped at Marissa and scraped his thumbnail down her face with a snarl. Your ex-girlfriend. Marissa snarked. Oh, and his current girlfriend. Were official now? Maxs face glowed. Yeah. Marissa blushed. "Are you seriously trying to steal my girl?" Damon was not exactly happy. "I'm not your girl anymore." Marissa piped in. "Stay out of this!" Damon replied. "Look, you had your chance with Marissa and you were the one who screwed it up. She's moved on, so why can't you?" Max said this with his usual face, despite

how he really was feeling (which was, at that moment, a mixture of fear and optimism for his relationship). "I screwed up, huh?" Damon threw some kid's ham sandwich in Max's face. "How's that for screwing up?" "Did you actually just do that?" "Yes, I did, whadaya gonna do about--" At the speed of light a slop of green, smashed peas appeared on Damon's cheek. After that Grassy threw a greasy banana peel at him, and that was when all heck broke loose. Quanell shouted, "MEAT YOUR MAKER, MAX CROMWELL!" and jettisoned what looked like mashed potatoes at him. I ran in front of it with my tray, which bounced the stream of whitish-beige gloop away from us and sent it ricocheting toward its creator, who was splashed in the face by it. "Addressed return to sender." I said, smiling smugly at Q. But just as I let my guard down, one of Q's troublemaker mooks sent a fork flying toward me. I dodged the kamikaze silverware, but it still hit a certain dear object of mine... "MY SANDWICH!" If Q pissed me off earlier, I was fuming then. Fine, you wanna play dirty, as I can see. Well, I can be dirty too, Mister Hood Booooooyyyyy! Youre stupid. he replied. Not offended by his claim, I sent the remains of my sandwich flying at him

before quipping, I know that, Capn Obvious. By now the rest of the cafeteria was starting to spread the food fight. I could tell, since my lime green shirt had suddenly turned a strange shade of browngreen via a stream of chocolate milk. I kept hurling things into the general direction of Q until my vision was blurred by a splotch of bright red meatball sauce. I ducked to avoid anything flying in the air, then wiped my face. I heard a screech as I did this, followed by a giant yell of WHO DID THIS TO ME? I crawled up to find a furious Bergsweier drenched in something that looked like a redbrown soda. She licked her hand, then said, Root beer. Who was drinking, or THROWING, root beer? I turned to the can of Barqs next to my seat, and shook it to see if anything was in it. Nothing. One thing I did know: I didnt finish it. Out of nowhere, Marcy screeched, TRES DRINKING ROOT BEER! So, it was you, Mr. McLaughless, eh? Trying to take revenge, or some confounded idea like that? Well, your plan failed. Oh, crap. She walked over to me and lifted my arm up. You, my friend, have wrapped yourself up in what is called two weeks of detention.

Thats just splendid. I get blamed for something I didnt even do, I thought. I looked at Marcy, who waved and smiled evilly. Even moreso.

I served my detention time in Bergsweier's classroom after school, a place filled with the seventh grade's worst juvenile delinquents and troublestarters... and Marcy, who I guessed was only there because of her mother. I was trying to do my homework while I was in there so I'd be done with it, but being in a room full of loud, rambunctious preteens and teens (some of whom did not even look like such) doesn't make for a very good work environment. Oh, and some stupid dude kept flicking folded paper hornets at me and laughing stupidly (read: "HURR DURR I HIT YOU HURR DURR" stupid), so I just gave up on that. Marcy came over to me and said cheerfully, Did you know that the plastic on the tip of a shoelace is an aglet? I looked at her with an indifferent expression. And why did I need to know a random something I already knew again? I said in a deadpan, monotone manner. Because, I like random facts. And I think you might too. Lets be random fact friends! Please? Please? Please? I kept the same look, then buried my head in my arms and yelled, WHY?!?!? Why what? Marcy said.

Why would you make me get detention with your crazy mother and then tell me random facts? Because I hate you. Marcy grinned. Well, why is that? Because my mom hates you, and I love my mom, and my mom wants me to hate you so I do. I was silent for ten seconds before just stating, Thats crap. No it isnt, its logic! Sure, maybe stupid logic. Its also stupid logic why Im in here in the first place and yet the real starter isnt. Why isnt Damon Pyle in here anyway? He was the one who threatened to beat up Max. And why isnt Quanell in here, either? He threw things at me, I just dodged em! And yet, for some sick reason I was the one who got punished for something that I DID NOT EVEN FRAKKING DO! I said this in the fastest voice possible, then began to breathe heavily. I looked up to find that the whole classroom was staring blankly at me. WHAT? IS IT FUNNY, OR SOMETHING? I WANNA LAUGH! They all turned away. Shuddup, you emotional wreck! Bergsweier yelled. This was the status quo for the next two weeks after school, which could be easily defined as Tre enduring two weeks worth of unfair juvenile delinquency

punishment, because, well, that was what it was, more or less. I was able to get through the two weeks alive, though just barely on the precipice of sheer madness. If I had to deal with Marceline any more than I have Id go off the deep end, I swear. Thank goodness for coffee and girlfriends, because if I didnt have either of these Id most likely be cooped up in my bed crying until I fell asleep. I said, sipping on an Ice Bean from the Beanery and Creamery with Nora by my side at the stools. Well, Im glad youre not, and even if you were, I wouldnt let you. she said, a slight smirk on her face appearing. Why not? Its good to let out ones feelings. Because if you were crying, I wouldnt get to see those eyes. My eyes are ugly. Black and unending and black. I looked out at the Windstream Tower and sighed. Hey, your eyes arent black, theyre brown. They are black. Come on, Nora, I should know what color my own eyes are. Okay, then Nora took a picture of my eyes with her phone as I looked into the tower, then showed it to me. As if by magic, a dark shade of brown appeared where my eyes were. Whoa, I guess they are brown! You clever observer, you. We both laughed

together. I gazed into her shining green eyes and saw that, though she seemed happy, it looked like she was troubled about something. Is something wrong? I asked. Nora stammered. Oh, umm, no, Im okay. Just some crazy chick whos been babbling on and on about some boy in Personal Fitness class. What, is she obsessed or something? Yeah, unfortunately, I think so. She took her iPod out and showed me the Facelook profile of a girl named Amanda Stevenstein, who had HE COULD BE THE ONE as her status at that moment. She had these crazy hazel eyes that pierced through you, almost as if she were some kind of seductress who had her eyes on this one like a snake has its eyes on a rat. On the Thursday of that week, after lunch, Id figure out exactly who Amandas one just so happened to be.

chapter 31: amandas accomplishment

(in the third person) Amanda Stevenstein was seriously ready to get her man. He was a megahot guy by the name of Max, and she found him incredibly handsome. Problem was, he was dating some weird chick named Marissa, though if her plan went as she hoped, that wouldn't be a problem. She walked to the table where him and his dork friends Tre and Grassy sat. When he saw her, Tre yelled, "You are not welcome here, you dog!" "Yeah, Turtleneck, go choke on an apple or something." Grassy joined. The two nerds exchanged some weird handshake. "Oh, shut up, Geekwad and Rockhead. I just need to have a little talk with Max." Max was surprised at this, but he stood up and asked, "Why do you need me?" "Oh, I just needed to ask you a few... Amanda paused. Questions, yeah, some questions." "Sure, it's cool. Not like I care." "If you're not back by the end of lunch I'm calling the cops." Tre replied. God, he's such a nerd, Amanda thought, disgusted. Tre and Grassy burst out laughing as Amanda and Max went to the stairwell.

"Okay, question one: Why do you hang out with those losers?" "Huh? Tre and Grassy aren't losers, they're my friends. They have been for a good two years. "Do you honestly think I'm gonna believe that? Tre's an annoying geek with some Goth chick as his girlfriend, and Grassy is stupid and has a head the size of the Bermuda Triangle." Amanda replied. "Well, I can see how you would think so, but they still are my friends." Could he be any more stubborn? "Alright, question two: Are you popular?" "Well, no, not really. In fact, I think more people may hate me than those who like me." "Great. My final question: do you want to be popular? Because I might be able to help you out with that." "I'd love that. Wait, why do you want to help me out? I'm just a skater, and you're a popular chick." "Because, Maxie, you're the envy of all the popular girls, and they all wanted you and me to be together." Amanda leaned in on Max, who was confused. "I have a girlfriend, Amanda. What are you--" Just when Max figured out what Amanda's goal was, she landed a long peck on his mouth, that of which he was surprised, then intrigued by. All of a sudden, a

voice Max and Amanda knew all too well yelled "What the frak, Max?!" Hearing this, Amanda slapped Max, winking at him as she did, and then she ran off to her classes upstairs.

chapter 32: i feel stupid now

I walked into the stairwell with Grassy to find Max and Amanda, snogging at the rail. I yelled "What the frak, Max?!", clearly stunned by what I was seeing. After this, Amanda slapped him and ran up the stairs. Max was still in the same position she left him in. I said, "Hello? Max?", trying to test if he was responsive, but he did nothing. "He's in a complete daze." Grassy said. After Grassy pinched his left pressure point, Max came to with a loud yelp. "What was that?" he hollered. "I should probably be asking you the same question. Why were you kissing Amanda?" "She was flirting with me, and when I was rejecting her, she pecked on me!" "You do realize he's going to tell Marissa, don't you?" Grassy said. "Please, Tre, don't! Mar-Mar's my first girlfriend ever, and I don't want to mess it up with her!" Mar-Mar. Max is absolutely not the type of person who made pet names, so he must really like her, I thought. "Okay, fine. This'll be our secret, but all I have to say is that if you do anything to piss me off, I'll text it to everyone." "Fair enough. Thanks, guys. You're the best." Max put out the brofist, and me

and Grassy followed suit. "We know." the two of us said.

Later that day, I was flipping channels on my TV and drinking yet another can of root beer when I saw a documentary on something that the people on it called parkour, or the art of moving. It was interesting, because the guys that were doing it were moving at intensely quick rates to get to a certain point in seconds, even if that point was a half a mile away. The trick was to use your environment to improvise a route while you traverse it. It seemed strange to me at first (how did they know how to do all of that without knowing the area?) but then I seemed to get a grasp on what they were doing (oh, so they dont.) It was really cool, and I thought if I could get myself to be a bit less, well, lazy, Id figure out how to do it.

One week passed without trouble afterward, but that all shattered on the Friday of that week. The day was going as they always did until after science. Q and Damon were mad because they both failed an incredibly easy quiz that Sampson had given a few days prior. Being Q and Damon, their main instincts told them to perhaps try

and irritate a certain guy and his skater friend to make them feel better because of teh total lulz that would so inevitably ensue. Needless to say, they followed said instincts, and soon after social studies I found myself and Max running away from them from the 7th grades wing of Perdedor all the way to the library (which, mind you, was a full 2 levels below us). I fell down a flight of stairs during this wild goose chase, and soon enough I found myself with multiple cuts and a pair of bruises, some of which were caused by the fall, and others of which were, well, caused by different means. Ever hit your head onto a painted brick wall at a rate fast enough to rival that of a squirrel whos had a bit too much coffee? Or rather, gotten your head hit like that? I have, and let me tell you, its not exactly the most pleasant feeling in the world.

part seven: the crack

chapter 33: the running of the tre

I needed a way to circumvent this problem. Fighting would make me just as bad as them, not to mention that it'd also most likely make me get beat up (again), so that was not an option. But then my mind wandered back to that documentary on parkour that I'd watched the week before, and it was then that I'd realized that if I learned how to use my environment like they did, then I'd be able to save myself from all kinds of trouble. I looked up "parkour in Greyson City" on the internet and found a group named the Movers, and they were teaching anyone who was willing to show up to Perdedor Park with them.

The crash course was led by a guy named Laz ("Lazerbeam" if you're lucky). He was pretty nice. Laz showed me and a couple of other guys how to do various movements that he said are "just the building blocks of parkour", and that "the real meat is using them while improvising to your environment at the same time. Of course, the building blocks were pretty hard to get a hold on. I think the next part would be better told via a montage. Unfortunately, some people may say that those are only for the movies. Well, I say to that, frak it.

I run toward a bench. I try to vault over it (vaulting = pushing myself over it with only my hand). I fall flat on my face. Nora lays a bandage on my face. Cue two more scenes of me falling, just for emphasis... (maybe). I gain an (un)impressive array of bandages, in various places around my body. I contemplate giving up on this and using normal means of evasion. I spy Max getting beaten up by Damon and Q. Contemplation cancelled. I practice the moves. After quite a few attempts, I land a roll from a high fall for once. This starts a streak of successes. I rip off a few bandages. Successful vault. I rip off more. Successful cat balance (its exactly what it sounds like: you balance the edge of a building or wall by crawling like a cat.) My trash can is filled with bandages, which are no longer found on me at all. Soon enough I'm traversing the obstacles of Greyson City with ease, like a

stuntman performing parkour in the movies, just less glamorous and not staged. This sequence ends with Laz stating, "You're ready." Frak yeah, I was.

Well, the day had come. I was ready to go solo with my parkour abilities, which meant that my plan was finally starting to shape up nicely. I'd been prepping for the whole month prior, training with the Movers and watching every video they posted on their site, falling and using LOTS of bandages, and finally getting the knack of how to do a couple of embellishments too. Free running (using said embellishments) wasn't really what I needed at that stage, so I stuck with what I knew and what I did well: parkour. I got a running start from the rooftop of the Katz Building, and soon enough, I was vaulting, running, jumping and moving at a rate I didn't know I was capable of. After a minute and some change passed, I was already on the other side of the Katz complex, which encompassed three buildings and two bridges (which in reality were just a pair of pipes). I was ecstatic, on an adrenaline high I'd not experienced since I had my first ride on a rollercoaster a year before. It felt awesome, being that way, me and the buildings.

I felt invincible, even though my main focus was to not mess up and end that feeling. I went to the opposite side the same way, and though my flow came to a stop when I forgot to roll after a fall from a staircase roof in the middle, I recovered pretty quickly. Tre, the traceur. I could officially call myself one now. Who woulda thunk it? A couple of hours later I returned to the Katz complex with a camera and tripod in tow. I set them up at the beginning of the course, and made sure that it'd auto zoom as I zipped along later on. When everything was ready, I just did a little introduction before starting. I did the course again, flying above and below the building's obstacles like a pro. Finally, when I finished, I waved to the camera, then ran back to it to stop the recording. After I did, I screamed, Woo! for the entirety of downtown Greyson to hear, and then went down the stairwell to go to the Windstream Tower. Yeah, I know, especially you who actually lived in Greyson at the time, Youre an insane quack! Well, to you guys who want to insult me for it, its not offensive if its true.

chapter 34: sus-peee-shousssss

In social studies, we were having a discussion about the Hindu religion that the majority of the people living in India practiced. Falconer asked in his witty accent, "So now that we know about the Hindu gods, is there anything to be said about where they live? I raised my hand. When he called on me I replied, "They apparently lived in the Himalayas, since none of the Hindus had gone there and lived at the time, even though today we know that isnt true." "Absolutely right, sir. So if Tre were to go up to try and see the gods up there in the Himalayas, the poor bloke'd probably die because he'd get sick before reaching the top, yes?" "That boy'd die by air suck-ness." was one of the varied responses I'd heard from the crowd, though I just ignored them. Honestly, I would've laughed because his joke was pretty funny, but since my dignity was not exactly something I needed to get lowered yet again, I stayed stoic, like a food critic at a sports bar. Sadly, the next period, math, was not much better. You guys already know that I'm Bergsweier's butt monkey, but that day was the last I could take with her inevitable snarky quips about her disdain toward my

demeanor.

"So, class, if a village idiot named Tre uses X milliliters of soap in his bath, and his bathtub needs 75 milliliters to get overflowed with bubbles, how much soap did he use?" The class immaturely snickered, as usual. I asked, "Is that even a math problem?" "No, it is not, but I don't care, it's just a quip I made to EXPOSE A STUPID PERSON." "I'm sorry, Ms. Bergsweier, but I've had more than enough of your stupid socalled 'quips'." I put air quotes around "quips" as I said it. "Okay, if you wish to be that way, then leave." She went to the door and opened it. "Gladly." I mumbled under my breath as I walked out. I sat on a bench in the hallway, just wondering, what could be wrong with this woman? I mean, it felt like she was using me as a ragdoll for her bad sense of humor, and that wasn't going to fly with me. I needed to figure out just what the big idea was with her, and soon, because that was when I realized something had to be up with her current frame of mind about me.

I just dont get it. Why doesnt she make fun of who deserves it, like Q or Damon? I said, holding my can of Barqs to my lips. It was lunchtime, and naturally, the five of us sat at the Undefined Clique table, since there wasnt really a clique table all five of us would really fit at without being shorn to bits by the other members. Maybe she might find you unattractive. Grassy murmured as he ate his hoagie. Everyone knows thats true, and nobody needs to point it out. I replied. I dont know its true, because it isnt! Nora yelped. Its true and you know it. If you think its true, then fine, Ill stop trying to defend you. She pouted and batted her eyes as she said this. Okay, fair enough, Im attractive. But Im only saying it because you think so, you little pouter. The two of us smiled. This is getting to be a tad bit awkward. Do that crap on one of your hot dates or something. Max said, taking a cookie from Grassys tray. Grassy grabbed onto it and they played tug-of-war with it until it split in two big pieces and about 50 crumbs, about 6 or 7 of which flew onto my face. The both of them shrugged, then ate their respective half. You two really need to start being a bit less immature with your eating

habits. Piper said. Riddle me this. Why should I? Max asked, licking his fingers. Its nasty! Piper cried, gagging in the process. Okay, fine, Ill stop. As for a certain Mr. Cromwell, well, I dont know. Grassy said. Naturally, we all laughed, except Max, who was eyeing all of us angrily. After a little while, though, he just said, Its not worth it. and slinked back into his chair. But yeah, I think Im going to start looking into her, and maybe figure out what her big deal is. I said. Youre going to spy on her, arent you. Nora said. Well, how do you know that Im doing that? Maybe I might just go on the internet or something. Yep, I knew it. Nora replied, then got up to throw her trash out. We all dispersed after her, then headed to our electives.

chapter 35: gotta spend some time

After the school had dismissed for the day, I began my excursion into the brain of Bergsweier by taking out my phone and recording her exploits on its video camera. I stayed there, actively keeping it there for a good 10 minutes or so before just packing up for the day. This was how I continued my situation for about two weeks, all 14 of the recordings made with no incriminating evidence, simply shakycam video of Bergsweier eating ramen noodle soup and tinkling the keys of her outdated PowerBook from some unknown period in the 90s... maybe even the year I was born. (How the frak is she still using a computer from frakking 1996?) This, as you could probably expect, made me want to scream. And scream I did. (Wait. Im getting all confusing again, let me rephrase that.) So, naturally, I did scream, and the entire Beanery and Creamery was there to hear it, although nobody was there but the rest of the gang. I cant find anything! Its like shes some sort of super-espionage-expert-lady, or SOMETHING! Urgh! I gnawed at my milkshakes straw mercilessly in a bout of anger. You are dead serious on revealing the nonexistent, yet overly malevolent nature of this woman, huh. Grassy said, tugging my straw out of my mouth. Yes, because shes E. V. I. L. Like Benedict Arnold.

Benedict Arnold was a traitor, and he was attempting to help Britain win the Revolutionary War. This womans just incredibly snarky. Nora said. I sighed as I threw my straw into the ice cream cone-shaped trash can and got a spoon to eat with instead. When will you guys learn? I thought.

At lunch the next day, things got worse. The nine of us got into a big debate over the whole situation, and all of us had different ideas. None of us agreed, and we all were just really mad at each other because of it. I was especially affected by this, because not even Nora, who was my girlfriend, didnt even agree with me. At the business computer technology class I had afterwards, I sat at one of the Macs that were used in the class and vented in a text document. (I deleted it because it was a bit, umm, too personal for the school to see.) A girl who Id seen in passing sat next to me and read it as she logged into her Mac. She turned away for a second, then asked, Fed up with the world, huh? Me? Oh, well, um, yeah, I guess you could say that. I sighed. I know the feeling. she said. We just sat there, rather awkwardly because wed never actually talked to each other before, so it was kind of weird. She suddenly threw her hand out and introduced herself. Im Julianne Lute, but you can just call me Julie, or J-Dawg if you want to get all street with it. She giggled rather strangely.

Um, okay then, Im Tre. I shook her hand slowly. And so began a beautiful (if awkward at times) acquaintanceship between me and Julie.

One week later, fall break was upon us, and I needed it. After the obvious crowd control problem caused by the whole schools excitement to get out, I walked out alone down the long strip of sidewalk between Perdedor Middle and Perdedor Park. When I got to the park, I sat at one of the benches and watched leaves fall down from the trees for a while. Sure, being my life this seems like a strange point for me to touch upon (to an extent, it sort of is), but I thought about what had happened recently and what I could do. I didnt want to lose my friends, or Nora, who was avoiding me during the last week for fear of further disagreements. I could understand that, but at the same time I felt like there shouldnt have been any disagreement between us in the first place. It felt weird, and it wasnt a good kind of weird. No, this was like some sort of convoluted marriage between confusion, anger and sadness that I just needed a break from. Good thing we got out then, I guess. Maybe.

part eight: the breakage

chapter 36: an anger mgmt. failure

Well, I havent mentioned him since about two chapters ago, but Q still had a stupid view of me and how I operated, so naturally I was still dealing with that. He didnt bother me as much during the weeks after fall break, because a girl by the name of Shaniqua Peirce [sic, thats how its spelled] punched him in the gut for calling her bespectacled boyfriend Darrell a little four-eyed punk. An hour later Shaniqua dumped Darrell and started sashaying around next to Q like they were an inseparable couple. They kissed. A lot. (I think you should probably know what happens next.) So Q wasnt a big deal for me, but I had bigger problems. Nothing had surfaced with the whole Bergsweier thing, and the gang wasnt talking to me (or amongst themselves, even) ever since the argument wed had. All the while I spewed these frustrated/confused/sad/X amount more feelings into Julie, whod become my confidante of sorts. I just dont understand what Im supposed to do in this situation. I dont want to lose her, but I dont want her to think Im being a creeper or something. I said, sighing before laying my face down upon the keys of my computer. Instead of trying to make things right with her, just wait things out. Itll get better. Shell come around. she said. But what if she doesnt?

She stopped dead afterwards, then quickly said, She will. Okay, I wont try, but like I said, I dont want to lose her.

Well, it seemed that Shaniqua and Q were a match made in heck, for they loved all the things one would expect from their type of personality: destroying things, making the lives of many students miserable and just plain wrecking Perdedor in terms of both physical and emotional form. Doth thou know what that means? Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that for me, it sucked. Shaniqua was just as bad, if not worse than the mighty Q himself when it came to being a nuisance. Seeing as how Q was pretty bad, thats a pretty high threshold for being mean. You may be wondering what she did to deserve that title. Well, Ill tell you something, if you bark at people you barely (if you even do) know and call them all various words I dont exactly wish to print (its for your own good, trust me), then proceed to slap them silly just for looking at you the wrong way (read: the only right way is to act as if youre in love) then I think you probably qualify as equal to Q in terms of meanness. Shaniqua did all of this, not to mention a certain incident that happened a few days after her arrival.

It was the last period of the day, and as I was getting ready to leave Ms.

Callaghans classroom Q came and shoved me as he and Shaniqua passed my desk talking and snickering at me. "I'm through with all of your crap, Quanell." They paused, then turned around. "What did dat boy just sayta me?" Q asked. "I said, I've had enough of you." "Whoa, whoa, whoa. This stick figga here thinks he can step to me." Q was laughing for whatever reason. "Are you tryna step to my man?" Shaniqua was not exactly pleased with me. "No. I'm just trying to understand why you feel the need to make me your little ragdoll when Bergsweier already does." "This boy is seriously askin' fo' it, but I don't wanna wear out the guns on my arms right now." Q threw up his arms like a bodybuilder and started flexing them for whatever. This maniac was laughing like this was some kind of twisted comedy show. "Fine, I'll do it, then." As she said this, Shaniqua walked toward my desk with a menacing look on her face. "Hey now, I'm not getting into that, I don't sink that low." "You don't sink low, huh?" Shaniqua grabbed my chair and sent it, the desk, and me flying downward in 3 seconds flat. The class murmured as I attempted to compose myself from the fall.

"How's that for sinking, you stupid stick?" I tried to get up, but my chair had pinned my legs to the ground. As I tried to get it off, Shaniqua sat on it so I couldn't. By then the class had realized she'd started this with intentions of a quarrel, and soon enough there was a circle around us chanting "Fight!" like this was Fight Club or something. "Stop!" I yelled. "Why stop now? I'm just getting started!" After that, her fists slammed into my face, one-two-three-four at the speed of sound. The next thing I knew I was entrenched in a black cloud filled with nothing but silence and darkness.

That days events became a blur to me over time, but I do remember waking up in the nurse's office with a cold pack of ice to my left eye. Ms. Flythe, the nurse, came in and said, "He lives! How are you feeling, Tre?" "Like a dude lying down with an ice pack on his eye." "Well, you're lucky. Because a friend of yours reported to Mrs. Lizeman that you didn't provoke Miss Peirce, you're getting off scot-free." A pang of soreness came onto my eye. "Not entirely." I groaned. I walked to the mirror in the office and relieved the ice pack from my face. What was lying in front of me was a deformed, ugly version of myself, with a dark

blue ring around my puffy left eye and a less prominent one around my right. I looked like some kind of mutated raccoon. Seeing this, I sighed. The last bell of the day rang as the pain returned to my eye. I put my ice pack on again to neutralize it. It sort of helped, but it didn't kill the pain as I'd unrealistically wished for it to. Why does crap like this always seem to happen to me? I didnt even do anything to him OR her, I thought as I held the pack to my eye.

chapter 37: marcelicious (aye aye aye)

Well, as you probably can see, Ive had my problems myself, but something that wasnt so much a problem as it was a further development of my crappish feelings was Nora. No, not her in her own right, that wasnt making me sad (at least, not anytime around this part of the story), but her choice in friends, and Im not referring to the mall guys and gals and me, her boyfriend (although that was not exactly guaranteed given our status at that time). You may be thinking, Okay, Tres just gone nuts, let me just turn my iPad or Kindle off or close this book or end whatever means youre using to read this, (in which case you are a nut), but hear me out. (Unless youre reading this out loud I dont think thats possible. Hmph.) Nora was friends with a certain girl whom earlier in my seventh grade year caused me more trouble than I needed. Yes, thats right, Nora had started hanging out with MARCELINE HUGHES. I got my first hint of this during the after lunch-before electives break, where I saw the two of them briefly talking and laughing with each other. Confuzzled, during my business computer technology class I searched on the internet if it was possible for beautiful sorceresses to be friends with foul, ugly witches. (I found nothing.) Julie looked at me like I was crazy when she sat down, probably because as soon as she sat she saw some old hag with a huge pointy hat looking at her, so I

explained what I was researching for her. Unfortunately, she kind of (re)informed me that analogies were processed literally by web searches, so as a result I was just aimlessly looking at witch and sorceress information without any real answer to my social question. (In retrospect, I realize that this was very stupid of me, and that I should have probably known that already, being a nerd and all. It mustve been one of my oblivious days, I dont know.)

So, with literally nothing to go on, I attempted to confront Nora about this after electives and before language arts. Whats with you and Marcy? I asked. Well, we kind of became friends after the whole, uh, argument-fight-debatethingymajigger that happened between the group. she said, stammering ever so slightly due to the awkwardness. I have a question. Go on? Why would you choose her? I mean, were kind of still a couple, and she despises me. Were like night and day, cats and dogs, us two. Um, excuse me, I have the right to choose who I want to be friends with. Nora looked at me angrily, a sight Id never seen before. No, excuse me, I was just contemplating over whether my girlfriend is going

to maybe, I dont know, make a friendly relationship with the enemys daughter, and if I should be worried about protecting her or not! I dont need to be protected from my friends, or my teachers for that matter! Tell that to me when she reveals herself. I mumbled under my breath. Great, now youre mumbling, as if you dont want me to hear something. And? Why should you care, you wouldnt believe what I said anyway. Well, maybe I would if it were true, but no, it isnt. I heard it, Mister Snark, and honestly, if this is the same Tre L. that I met as a kid, then I absolutely hate the person hes become. Nora spat before wrestling with her hair. I didnt reply, instead just looking at her as she did this. When she finished she appeared as she always had, with her short brown hair going down the sides of her face, but now the ends of them seemed like snakes attempting to bite me. I felt like at any second Nora would turn into some Medusa-esque creature, but it never happened. Youd be wrong on that. I havent become anything, Nora. Not a thing has changed, except for the whole people Ive grown to really like over a near year thing being pulled under my feet, then beat upon by the rest of this unfeeling, cold student and teacher body. Tears were coming to my eyes, but I held them in because the last thing I needed was to look like some wuss in the middle of the hallway.

Not. A. Thing. Who are you? she asked coldly, then walked to the language arts classroom. I followed her, asking myself the same question, and wishing that she was Medusa, so Id just get turned to stone then and there.

chapter 38: et tu, lute?

Later that day, I was emptying my locker when Julianne came up to me and asked, "So is this relationship you had with that Nora girl done with?" "No. I want her to tell me it's over myself before I jump to any conclusions." "You just need to get over her." Julianne said this in a way I'd never heard her talk before, like she was mad at me about something. "What the frak's your problem?" As I said this, she grabbed me by my collar and said, "Tre, you're the most amazing boy in the world" and then went toward my face like she liked me or something. "What. The. HECK." I turned to find Nora, who dropped her books and looked in awe of me and Julianne. "Nora, I swear, it's not what you think--" "Yes it is." Julianne said this and kissed me on the cheek. Nora's jaw dropped. I yelped, "Nora, please believe me!" "Believe what? That you're replacing me with Lady Lilline? Because that's what it looks like to me." She walked away in a huff. "Nora!" I yelled after her, but all she did was turn around and give me the evil eye, which had a tear going down it. After that, she continued on down the hallway.

"Why." I said lowly. "What?" "Please tell me, why did you do that?" "Because, Tre, you don't deserve her. You should have a real girlfriend, like me." "Nora was just as real, probably moreso a girlfriend than you'd ever be." "You're just naive, little Tre." "Stop that, just stop it." She did so and let go of me. "You know, there are terms for people who do things like that to other people, but they're too mean for me to say." I walked away from my former friend, simply unable to believe what'd happened.

I just couldn't get myself to. The girl of my dreams just left me because the girl I thought I could trust as a friend was just some hussy trying to get me to date her.

Now, I was left with no one. A year ago I wouldn't have cared about it, but at the time I felt like being alone

was a lot less satisfying than it was before. It sucked, to say the least. That wasn't even the worst part, at least not to me. No, that dubious honor definitely goes to the fact that Nora thought I was cheating on her. I'd never lie to Nora, not ever, but for whatever reason it seemed like I was lying to both her and myself all along, and for that I could never redeem myself. That night I laid on my bed, just doing nothing but think of what happened and what the frak I could do. Suddenly, I felt mad at myself for being a liar, and I took it out on my pillows, ripping them in half and throwing the stuffing around like some maniac with a disdain for pillows. In a blind rage, I hurled myself around my room wrecking things and making a mess. I then focused onto a bright green object. Taking a dictionary from my shelf and Noras scissors, I smashed the green thing to smithereens on my desk until it was an array of 21 green shards of plastic and glass. I then realized what Id done. Those were the Shades. Yes, the ones I received the Xmas before. The Blindsided Shades, my prized possession, were now nothing but a bunch

of pieces.

As can probably be expected, once I realized what Id done I broke down after that and just cried. I know, I know, not manly or whatever, but Im not the type of person that just shrugs off your best friend turned girlfriend breaking up with you like it isnt a big deal, when in reality it sort of is. I didnt think that things could get any worse with the situations I was dealing with at the time.

chapter 39: i was wrong.

The next day, while I was recording Darcy, she did something I'd not seen her do previously. She took out her cell phone and dialed a number. I zoomed in with the camera as she put it on speakerphone while she went to microwave the fifth frozen meatball marinara sub sandwich I'd seen her eat that week. "Hello, Darcy." The voice was familiar, but I couldn't tell who it was because the phone kind of warbled their voice. "The plan is going along perfectly." Darcy stated. "The greener and his girl are done." "What about the rest of them?" "They've drifted apart via way of cliques and the teaming system, so there was no need to break them up." "Marvelous. Should I come there and finish the job that you splendidly began?" said the phone. "That would be wondrous. I planned to leave for the beach on Friday, but I needed a substitute." "Well, that's perfect. Love you, Alice." What the frak? "I love you more, my little boy in blue."

"I'm not starting this. Besides, I love you more." "Bye-bye, Officer Wei-sher-bear." "Please, call me Carl." I dropped my camera, shocked by my discovery. Panicking, I fumbled with it before getting a grip, and when I did, I ran like an Olympian, just in awe of what I'd figured out. Suddenly, it all made sense. Darcy Bergsweier was not Darcy Bergsweier. Instead, she was really some chick named Alice, and she was working for (not to mention IN LOVE WITH) Carl Ollins Weisgerber. Yep, she was a puppet for Cow. Holy. Crap.

Ugh, that is so squicktastic.

chapter 40: what could i do?

The answer: I had no clue. I had no plan ready, and even though that wouldnt seem like much of a problem, I had a bigger headache to deal with: I couldnt think of a single plan. No, not one. My signature ability was gone, without warning, and I was left without an idea of anything to do at a time where I really needed an idea of something to do. None of my former friends would believe my story. Well, maybe one... No, hes not going to. Is he? I thought as I walked toward the table where a certain bushy haired guy was sitting at lunch. Umm, hi. I said to him as I sat down. Hello. Grassy said, sipping the contents of a styrofoam cup through a narrow clear straw. Hypothetically, if I were to ask you if you thought Bergsweier was up to something bad, what would your response be? Id say you were a quack with no proof of your theory. But what if I actually did have proof this time? He rubbed his chin for a moment, then said, Go on. Remember when I announced my intent to observe her?

Yeah. Why? Well, I recorded something you might wish to see. I got my camera out, started playing the video and passed it to him. One minute later, his jaw dropped to the table. When was this? Grassy asked. Yesterday afternoon. I said, taking the camera. So, that means... Yeah, it isnt exactly the best of news. I said. We have to tell the others. Grassy said. Can you text everyone? They wont reply to anything I send. Trust me, Ive tried. I said. Well, do you think theyll answer me? he asked. Its a possibility. With that, Grassy took his iPhone out under the desk and typed out
Meet me on the benches at Alderney & Flanders after school. Emergency!

and sent it to the rest of the group. Okay, so the messages went through. Now, all we need is for the rest of the group to come. Grassy said.

I arrived at Alderney & Flanders to find the entire group at its near-former glory at the benches, just as Grassy asked. So, why is it that were all here if we all dont like each other anymore? Max

asked. Good question, Cromwell. I know you guys didnt exactly agree with my beliefs on Bergsweier- Understatement. Piper said. I blinked, then continued. But, I think that this may change your perspective. I gave them the camera and played the video. To my surprise, they all were shocked. How do we know that this isnt doctored? Max, the resident cynic of the group asked. I shot the video yesterday, and I have no clue on how to use professional video editing software, Scouts honor. I said. Youre not a Boy Scout. Cici said. I was. Lets just say Scoutmaster Mike didnt like me all that much, and as a result, it didnt end well. So, what are we going to do? Youre one to come up with things on the spot. Uhhhhh... I shrugged nervously. What? they all asked in tandem. I cant think of anything. WHAT?! they repeated. So, were without a plan, and Cows coming on Friday? Nora asked.

Yeah. Grassy and I said this simultaneously. Aaaaand, Cow is a police officer now? she continued. It seems so, yes. we said. Well, pack your bags, were headed to juvie! Max said, sighing. Nobodys going anywhere, and if youre leading yourself to think so you might as well just leave now. We need a plan, and we need to apologize to our friends. This is a time when we all need each other. Nora said, standing. Especially you, Tre. Im sorry for what happened. Julianne is- A cold-hearted jerk who just wanted you as a trophy husband? Nora smirked. Yeah, thats exactly what she was, except for the whole husband thing. I couldnt ever get married to that hussy. Eugh. I shuddered. I had a hunch. Nora smirked as she said this. Can you talk about your relationship issues and all that crap later? Weve got to figure out what were doing on Friday. Play hooky, perhaps? Max asked. That may not be the best idea, Max. Were not exactly attempting to get arrested for truancy here. I said. Well, its a possible fallback. Max muttered. Can we go to the Beanery and Creamery? Its getting hot out here. Cici

asked. Good call. Grassy said. Lets go. So, we all went to the B+C (as it nicknamed itself) to discuss what we were going to do that Friday. Max stood by his idea, which (surprisingly) ended up being our final choice due to our other ideas being, well, rather unrealistic, to say the least of it. (Theyre too embarrassing for me to print here. Oh, and to make things just greater, Nora will murder me dead if I print hers, not to mention she said it wasnt gonna get past the book censors. Do they even have book censors? Whatever, its a moot point, Ill get back to the story now.)

We all reconciled with each other over the next day, catching up on each others business and all of that lovely stuff. After lunch, I walked to tech next to Nora, and the conversation that ensued was rather awkward. Umm, hi, Nora. Hey there, Tre. So I was at a loss for words. I knew what I wanted to say, but I didnt want to make it seem like I was rushing my point, so I attempted one of the worst things I could hold myself to: small talk. Eugh, just the thought gives me shivers. Great fall weather weve had lately, huh? I nervously continued.

Yes, I would say so myself. Listen, do you, uhh, do you think that its possible that we could, er, resume I was sweating intensely. Here it came. Resume what? Nora asked. Resume talking about the plan for Friday? Dangit! No lives remaining, I thought. Dont you, uh, think that maybe we should wait for the others? Nora said. Oh, yeah, absolutely. Well, thatsallIwanted,youcangotoclassnow,buhbye! I ran to tech after that mess was done with, then proceeded to bash my head into the only Windows computer inside the class.

I sat on the bench in Perdedor Park again that night, continuing to think of my situation and why it was happening this way, when I spy a face I recognize. He sees me too, then walks over to my bench. Hi there, Mr. Falconer. Now you know darn well I hate it when people call me that. Okay, sorry. Hi there, Sam. I said sincerely (I know it seems weird, but people say I say things in a rather strange sarcastically un-sarcastic fashion, so I was just clearing that up.)

And what do you happen to be doing this evening? Just sitting. Thinking. Normal stuff like that. Oh. He sat next to me and glanced at my expression for a sec, at the time being a strange, indifferent-yet-moody one. I call it my strange thinking face. (Not very creative, but who really cares?) Whats wrong? You seem bothered. Ive been having girl trouble, and a bunch of other troubles. Eh, well, I cant help with the girl troubles, as Ive not found a good female for myself, but what else? Theres this I paused to think of a way to say this without being too revealing. Theres a new guy in my apartment building, and he hates me. Well, how much can a guy hate you if hes new? We had a bit of a squabble last Christmas at the Galleria. What happened? Sam seemed interested, unlike most people I talked to. I kind of accidentally tripped over his shoe and made him fall. I tried to apologize, but he went all nuts on me and ran me right out of the store I was in. Oh. Well, the guy seems to not know how to drop a grudge, huh? Big time. So, he still hates me, and now Im wondering what I can do to make this a wee bit better.

He doesnt seem like the type to politely converse about the situation, huh? Um, no. Hes a bit of a brute. Well, something I always say is to make sure you do what you feel is right in situations youre not sure of, even if you arent sure that it is. Good to know. I checked my watch. It was nearing 5. Well, I had plans to go to the Beanery and Creamery with soon, so I think I might need to get going. Thanks for helping. Youre a good kid, Mr. However-You-Pronounce-That-Last-Name-Of-Yours. Sam said as I walked off. I laughed, then waved goodbye and headed down Alderney. That talk gave me a bit of relief in knowing that not every teacher at Perdedor wanted my head.

chapter 41: dingbat!

He told you what? Marcy barked out suddenly. She nearly dropped her phone from the news that Nora just spoke through its speaker. Tre said that your mom is working for Carl Weisgerber, also known as the security guard from the Galleria that basically wants to ruin all of our lives except maybe yours. I know that, you dingbat. The only thing is, do you believe the imbecile? I dont know. Nora said, sighing. But hes my, erm Your what? Marcy asked, her voice perking up. Friend? Enemy? Humble acquaintance? He is my former boyfriend and current friend of mine. Nora cringed as she said this. Besides, the guy didnt pull it out of anywhere. Ill send you the video he showed me and then you can figure it out for yourself. Nora had it saved on her phone, so she sent the video in a text message. When Marcy got the video, she watched the footage and then gasped. My mom is working for some sick creep? Good gawd, I dont know how that logic occurred to her, but holy crap! Were not going on Friday just to make sure that his plan fails, so thats why Im not gonna be at school. Nora said. And please, dont tell your mom. Ill try my best not to. Marcy replied.

part nine: the best frakking day ever (or, todos somos perdedores)

chapter 41: thursday

The third period bell rang as I slipped through the doorway to Alices, or Bergsweiers, or THAT TREACHEROUS SNAKEs, whatever you wish to call hers room and sat at my chair near the others. Wheres the lady? Max asked. I havent seen her today. Its like she disappeared or something. I replied. Well, I am just fine with her not being here. Grassy said. Marcy plopped her stuff down and sat at the desk adjacent to Noras and two chairs down from mine. Whats she doing? I asked. Why do you care, dingbat? Besides, I know about what my mom apparently is doing with a certain Weisgerber fellow. Marcy said. Nora, did you tell her? I asked. Yes, but why is it important? Shes trying to help us. Okay, fine, but if she barked to her mom about the plan, then Ill have to take her head and burn it in a fire. Ill have you know that I told my mother absolutely nothing, you brute. Am I the brute here? Im asking seriously because I really wanna know. Can you two quit trying to eat each other? Were not feral animals here, theres no need to claim land. Grassy intervened. Okay, but its only because I like you, Grassy. I said, growling at Marcy.

Mr. Pyle came in the classroom, a strange sight, as hed only popped up on occasions he wanted to talk to us, and something else, but I couldnt think of what. Hi, guys. Now, Ms. Bergsweier is unable to come today because her kids got down with the measles, so theres a substitute teacher coming to fill in for her. Until then, well have to wait, and you guys can talk quietly. Waitaminnit. Measles takes three days to be diagnosed. I said. How do you know? Max asked. My mom is a nurse and when she was going to grad school when I was nine I took a peek at one of her books. Something is definitely up with this. Sounds like Bergsweier was leaving to make way for Cow or something. Piper said. Wait, Im getting word that the sub is coming upstairs now-- or not, as hes outside right now. Hello, students, Im Mr. Ollins. a deep, firm yet not mean and calm, yet frightening voice said in a very, very familiar mocking tone. Aw, crap.

chapter 41: xxxo

I think I might have taught some of you before. I thought he was supposed to come on Friday! Max whispered frantically. I did too! Thats what Alice or Bergsweier or whatever the frak her name is said! I replied, panicking. Well, well. What have we got here, a few talkers? Cow said as he walked over to our table. Im not going to have any trouble with any of you today, am I? Because then Id have to send you to Ms. Lizeman and we wouldnt ever want that, now would we? This was all in a voice much less human than he previously had, almost as if hed become a sociopath or something (if, of course, he wasnt already). No, sir, Were sorry, goontherewhydontyousir. I said nervously. Okay, then. Turn your books to page 193 and read from there to 200. Were learning about long division. Never has a math operation scared the crap out of me more than that day, and now Im dealing with algebra as I write this as an 8th grader. ALGEBRA. This was going to be a long class.

As I pretended to do the work, I whispered to them, What do we do? We blow the frak out of this popsicle stand, as you would say with your weird

science fiction minced oaths. Max said briskly. Whats a minced oath? Piper asked. THAT! IS NOT! IMPORTANT! As soon as I said it I covered my mouth with my hands at the speed of light. Cow got up from his desk and walked over to me, my hands still on my face. Is there a problem? No. I said as fast as I could, then smiling. You all are being very disruptive to the rest of the class, if you wouldnt mind. Right, class? Oh yes, the inconsiderate idiots will not shut up. Damon yelled. Yup, yup. Q followed, staring at me with a grin almost as if he were Beelzebub himself, ready to take me down into the depths of the underworld. I started trembling. Well, Ive already warned you once before, so youre just going to have to report to DETENTION NEXT PERIOD! My eyes bulged and my jaw dropped. I looked at Nora, who had the same expression, then Grassy, who had it too. Our heads fell into page 193 out of pure shock.

chapter 42: its so young, it runs

In a few black lines, my watch showed 9:57 a.m. on its circular display. In three minutes, I was going to have to deal with a night-guard-turnedbatcrap-nuts-police-psychopath. And oh, was I crapping my pants. (Well, not really, but still, you get the idea.) My palms started sweating intensely. I was hoping for the life of me tht my watch had some kind of crazy time-stopping feature Id never discovered, but I already knew that, because of the lack of dei ex machina here, nothing was going to do that. 9:58. Nora whispered to me, Whatever happens, were going to be OK. Yeah. I said, holding her hand in mine. Itll be fine. I dont think this is a time to be optimistic. Max snarked. Well, we can at the very least try, Mr. Pessimist. Grassy replied. 9:59. Out of nowhere, I started thinking about a song I once liked before realizing it was idiotic. Tick tock, on the clock, but the party dont stop, no Well, gee, wouldnt that be ironic.

The lunch bell droned from the speaker as my watch clicked as it always did when the hour changed. All of the tables except for you badseeds in the back may leave. Cow said. Everybody except for us, Q, Damon and their friends exited. Time for some fun. Q said, still with the same Wait just a second. Why arent they leaving? I said. Because I hired them to give us some help. A slight tap on the ground occurred. I spun around to see what it was, and BLAM! Before I knew it Id found myself flying backwards and suddenly into the projector whiteboard on our wall. Did it hurt? In a word, SOFRAKKINMUCH. I opened my eyes to find Shaniqua running toward me with an outward fist. Moving as fast as I could, I turned my head just as she was about to hit it, then turned my left leg into her knees. She fell with a yelp, and as she did I jumped onto the nearest desk. Q ran to me, but before he could get ahold of me I leaped once again, this time to the desk to my right. A little help would be great right about now! I yelled before I felt myself falling down again, this time at the hands of Damon. Grassy dug into his bag and grabbed two small springs. What are springs going to help us out with now? Max groaned.

This, my old friend. Grassy grabbed a red stapler from the bag and took out the spring inside it to replace it with one of the smaller ones. Closing the staplers top, he then opened it up vertically and squeezed on the handle. 5 staples went flying, 4 of which stuck into Damons belt, and the other one into his back. He yelled in pain and turned around, but just as he did so I grabbed a math book from under the desks chair and proceeded to whack it into his head. Damon went down with a loud thud. That was AMAZING. Max said. Howd you do that, Grass? The spring inside the stapler now has about 60% more tension than the normal one I took out, turning a normal stapler into the equivalent of a high powered stapler gun. How is that even possible? Max asked. Thats the thing. Its not. Grassy winked as he said this. Well, theres gotta be another stapler in here. Max looked around, but couldnt find any. He ran outside and yelled to some random dude, Hey, Milton, can I borrow your stapler? About a minute later, Max reappeared with a shiny red Swingline stapler in his hand. Grassy, do your thing. he said, throwing the stapler to Grassy in the process. You arent using that thing for nothin, chickenboy. Q yelled, running toward

Max. Hey, dont knock Cromwell. Hes probably a better shot than youll ever be with your fat, lumpy hands. I said. Oh, Tre. TretretretretretreTRE. Youre just asking for it now, you little weasel. Well, if you got it, then bring it on, you minuscule-brained imbecile. What? Youre gonna have to be more blunt with your insults, spaz. Q said. Okay, fine, Ill put it in stupid person. In other words: Bring. It. On. Sucka. Q ran to me like a rhino toward its prey with his sights set directly on me. As he charged I looked at the path he was taking, then just as he got to me I sidestepped and pushed him right into the wall. Youre all idiots! You need to get yourselves together, you idiots! Come on! Cow said, then whispered something into the walkie he had on his belt. Not ten seconds after this, a bunch of guys decked out in police gear barged into Bergsweiers room and yelled, PUT YOUR HANDS UP! Oh, SHIFT! I ran through the back door immediately, and the others followed suit. Whats the plan? Nora asked. THERE IS NO PLAN! I replied, panicking. OHGODOHGODOHGODWHYME, I thought repeatedly. This wasnt just me running from bullies, or night guards, or pissed off teachers. I was running from the law. I didnt even know what it was I had

done wrong, but I had a feeling I hadnt done anything. We got to the stairwell, panting as we did. Lets split up! Max yelled. No, were sticking this one through. We never left each other before and we sure as heck arent gonna now. Nora said. I ran down the stairs, with one destination in mind: the exit doors. If we could get there and down to Alderney & Bertelsmann we were as good as gone, but that was a longshot. Alderney & Bertelsmann, guys! Lets hope this works. I said. We all wanted it to work, because we did not have plans to go to juvie after all of this time we werent dealing with crazy night guards turned police officers. Me, Grassy and Max all sailed down the railing of the second staircase and cut a line through the 3rd floors landing, while the girls jumped down at the same speed. We did this while avoiding visibility through the stairs due to the fact that at least one of those guys was bound to have a gun. We successfully got to the ground level without them on us. Do you think we lost em? Nora asked. Lets hope so. I said, opening the door. Do we make it home free? Will Cow and his mooks catch us? Turn the page to see the thrilling conclusion of STUCK AT SCHOOOOOOL!

chapter 43: the shadow

PUT YOUR HANDS UP! yelled a voice through a megaphone nearby. We opened the door to find the entire parking lot of the school just littered with a whole plethora of people - nearly all of Greysons police force, a couple of people who I believe were in riot control suits, and the news. Yeah, this was probably not going to end well. Well, well, well. Weve got ourselves a big fat catch here, huh? Cow said with a smirk on his face. What are you talking about? Nora asked. Oh, dont play coy, Miss Irving, I know your deal and I have known for a whole year now. Youre a freeloader who abandons people and then runs away from what youve done. Sounds like the perfect description for a kleptomaniacal girl who just couldnt keep her hands off of that cash. I started, You are full of crap. C-R-A- You be quiet, Mr. Tre, or whatever your real name is. Youre just trying to defend her because you are her right-hand man, isnt that right? You came up with this whole master plan to steal the security codes, get to the cash, and get by without anyone suspecting you, huh? Well, you were wrong, and rest assured, weve got you good. I do not steal things, you delusional hack. I replied angrily. Did he believe I

didnt have ethics or something? Ha. Delusion? Ive got tapes of all five of you at that heist on the Foley Bank vault, so you might not want to toy with my emotions. So, this idiot is honestly attempting to arrest you for some high-profile heist that I had literally nothing to do with. What do you do, Tre? I thought. Is it worth running? Hes in charge of all of these guys, and I think I want to keep my head today, thank you very much. Im offering you a choice here. You can take the easy way and do this without any pain or any attempts at resistance. Or, you can take the futile route and run, in which case my friends over there will definitely be willing to use force. Your choice. I turned to the left to look at Nora, who was more or less telepathically answering that with a look on her face that said, As long as it doesnt kill us. Turning the other way, I found Grassy to have a similar look on his. The exit toward Bertelsmann was blocked, but I saw a ladder to the roof around the corner. Well, I guess theres nothing else we can do but run. I whispered. Or, in this case, climb. I took a step, which caused a single bullet to fly near me. It was about 5 feet away, thankfully. This is going to suck.

I ran, no, sprinted around the corner and toward the ladder, gunshot sounds and rapid footsteps following. Climbing the ladder as fast as I could, I looked below to see that everyone had managed to fit onto it and was following me pretty nicely. The gunshots got lower in frequency as the teams reloaded and began to give chase. They were rather slow though, mainly because of all the bulky belts and police-thingamajigs they had on. They were almost in a way like soldiers, but not. We got to the roof rather quickly, by way of pulling each other up. I saw that the awning on the other side of the building was slanted at the perfect angle for us to jump (and for them to, you know, not get their legs hurt by way of landing on them, so I ran toward them, the other four following. I jumped onto it and then the ground in a bit of a one-two foot pattern, almost like the pattern my running had established was continuing through my jumps. Gladly, they hadnt got to us yet, but I had a feeling that they had cars, so I decided to take the more crowded route. Hence, no guns for them, I hoped. Look at their feet! I yelled out to the rest of the group as I cut through the crowd walking down Flanders in the quickest way I knew. CLEAR THE AREA! LEAVE FROM THE CROWD AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE! a megaphone blared.

The crowd began filing out to the left of the street, their faces confused. Unfortunately, this left us right out of them like fish out of water, so we just gunned it again. Whats our plan? Max yelled out to me, ducking downward as a bullet screamed right over his head. There is none! I have no idea what Im doing-- POW! For whatever reason a telephone pole decided to materialize in front of my position out of nowhere. This, as you can probably tell, hurt. I fell over on my head. Reeling in pain, I thought I saw someone in a black hood and an all-black outfit with no visible face, almost like they were the Grim Reaper or something. Who are you? I asked, in a daze. You dont need to know. a menacing, genderless voice replied. All you need to know is that Im here for one reason: to beat you at your very own game. I snapped out of my daze, only to realize that she or he or whatever it was wasnt just something my imagination was subconsciously creating. This person was the real deal. I attempted to use my kick in the legs and run technique that I used on Shaniqua earlier with my left leg, but they caught it and then proceeded to wrap

me around the pole with it. I screamed in pain, but got out of its hold by way of kicking them in the groin. A slightly wussy, yet somehow still manly yelp occurred. Whoever it was, they were a guy, I guess. I ran weakly, my leg still in pain. It wasnt broken or anything, but it at the very least hurt like heck. Guess it might have just been a really, really painful flesh wound, but who knows is anyones guess. I ran into some random apartment building and went up its staircase, dragging my pretty much dead leg with me, up to the roof in a desperate attempt to escape. I fell on my first step onto the gravel rooftop. Nora got up the stairs and gasped. Are you okay? I stumbled, but then picked myself up. I dont know, but what I do know is that weve gotta go. I looked to our right and saw a few hollow PVC pipes near a power line hanging over the street. I hope you know how to use a zipline. I ran to the pipes, put one atop the line and slid downward, sparks flying behind me. When I got to the other side I jumped and turned to see Nora, Max, Grassy, and Piper behind me, with Nora holding on to Max. When they got down, I started running and they followed. Whats with that whole Max business, Nora?

Im afraid of heights. VERY afraid of heights. The mall I could manage, but not anything otherwise. I turned forward to see that the building was slanted at the edge with nothing but a ladder on the one next to it to land on after a jump. Seeing this, I had to stop. Whats wrong? Theres no way all of us are going to make the jump together. Well, what do we do, then? I have no ide-AH! I felt a long sting on my leg and went down knees first. Nora and Grassy propped me up and held my head up. Are you sure you can go any further? Nora asked. Probably not. I took a few good breaths as I said it. Well, whatever we do, weve got to do it fast, because theyre starting to come close. Max said. Close? Im already here. The cloaked guy appeared when I turned around. You dont scare us whoever you are. Max said. Call me The Shadow. And just a note, if you were smart there, Mr. Tre, youd probably be a bit more careful about your decisions, eh? Max tried to kick him, but The Shadow caught his foot and knocked Max in the head with it. Piper attempted beating him with her pipe, but he took it out of her hands when she lunged and sent it straight into her gut.

Tre, Nora and Grassy. A perfect trio, there. You three are lucky, because you all get to go to jail with your friends right next to you. Id count your blessings if I were you. Soon enough, the pipe swooped through our heads not once, but twice, and the three of us all went down like three perfectly aligned dominoes.

chapter 43: how perty

I awoke to find not much, actually. Just the other four, a post-it note and a window. The note was green, and it had a set of handwriting Id spy from anywhere. Cows. Dear Idiots, Like the 13th level of the Pert Building so far? Im sure you probably do, very much, yes. Get used to it, because youll be living here until I get the kinks worked out and you can go to your new home of Shortview. Enjoy your stay. Carl Well, weve officially been sent to juvie for no reason. I said, sighing. Yeah. This sucks. Nora said, sighing along with me. I do know one good thing about it though. Whatever is so great about a near featureless void? Nora asked. Its got a nice view. Nora glared at me. Okay, then.