"I don't want to see you again, Chambers."

Chris nodded, his eyes down and locked on a scuff mark on his weathered sneakers. His nod was apologetic. He was sorry. How selfish of him to make this man take time out of his day to unload anger upon him that really just needed a scapegoat and had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Chris was failing Biology.

Bullshit always brought out his sarcastic side.

"Between you and me, kid, can I just ask you something? You've wasted so much of my time already. Why do you even bother coming?"

Chris looked at his teacher, Mr. Broderick-a spectacled, grey-haired man so fat that he looked pregnant-and the calm, patient blue that usually glazed over his eyes when he was being berated turned into annoyed darkness. This man wouldn't understand that Chris Chambers really had a home life that was not unlike the rumours; his life wasn't just a shallow two-dimensional story, it was rounded and real and littered with supporting evidence. He wouldn't understand that when you take into consideration all the time he had to spend protecting his mom and his siblings, and getting the shit beat out of him, and cleaning up after his father, there wasn't much leeway for studying Mendel's laws of heredity.

"I'll pull up my marks, Sir," Chris said, amazed at how he was able to utter a word like sir to someone who was so beneath him.

"I'm sure you will, Chambers. And I bet you'll grow up and be a successful lawyer or rocket scientist too," Broderick sneered and he wasn't smiling but Chris could tell how much he was enjoying this. "If you don't pass the quiz on Monday, I'll have you removed. Does that make any sense at all to you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. You can go," he said dismissively, as if he didn't damn well know that he'd made Chris miss his bus and he was going to be late getting home and old Mr. Chambers didn't take kindly to tardiness.

"Thanks," Chris murmured, and gathered his tattered notebook in his arms and briskly walked out of the stifling classroom. He felt warm and ill and dizzy and sunken; he was worthless treasure and everyone knew it. As he entered the empty hallway, his clammy grip lost hold of his books and he watched, helplessly accepting, as it fell to the ground. Loose pages flittered everywhere. He swore softly under his breath, because he didn't feel like he'd be able to get up off the floor if he were to get any lower right at that moment.

But he didn't have to stoop down. A blur of eager chestnut assaulted his tired gaze, and suddenly his notebook was back in his hands. Startled, he looked at the person who had picked it up for him and all he could think of to say was "um."

It was one of those girls that guys don't look at and think, "Ooh! A girl!" This was Elena Lefevbre, a brilliant junior in his twelfth grade biology class. She was sort of tall, or at least nose-high to him, and she was soft-spoken but she still answered questions in class, and she wasn't fat but she wasn't really thin either. She was the type of girl that you forget about a year after graduation; the girl that you've never nodded or smiled at in the hallway. Average doesn't make anyone smile.

Right now, her speckled green eyes were flittering to the ground and up to his face in this sort of nervous, apologetic brush of kindness. "Notebooks are slippery," she explained with a shrug.

If Chris had any smiles left in his heart at that point, he would have used the last of them up on her right then. "I guess so," he agreed. "Thanks. Your name is Elena, right?"

She nodded. Girls who spend their high school days being ignored nod and shrug a lot. Somewhere along the way, they learn that it's best to just accept the fact that no one is ever going to ask them anything that will require more an answer more than a simple gesture.

Chris instantly felt bad. "Actually," he blurted. "I knew what your name was so I don't know why I acted like I only kind of knew. Sorry if I just made you feel, like...unnoticed or something. I don't know why I did that. I think maybe it was like a rhetorical question that backfired, maybe."

She smiled, and he'd never known before that she had dimples. "It's okay."

"Good. Anyway. Elena. What are you doing here? Elena."

"That's really not necessary," she laughed. "I'm just here to get the key to the science lab, actually. I was thinking that I was going to do a project for extra credit and Mr. Broderick said that I could come in on Saturday to work on it."

"Wow." Chris considered this thoughtfully. "He must really trust you. If I were to be like 'hello, Mr. Broderick, I would like to better my education, please hand over your keys,' he would say 'Like hell, Chambers, I know your type. You'd steal all of the copper II sulphate to make crack so you can import it to Venezuela.' That's entirely false, of course."

"Yeah, who sells crack in Venezuela?" she scoffed.

"Yeah, I'd hit China. All those fat little Buddhists already have a history of drug addiction. What with the whole Opium War thing. They'd be an easy target. It would be like selling candy to a baby."

"You're supposed to steal candy from babies. Not sell."

"Elena, I don't steal from the Chinese." He gave her a serious look. "Chinese are our friends."

Elena grinned. "Sorry." Then she grimaced all of a sudden, and her gaze went back to the ground, just as Chris was getting used to the way the flourescent lights above made the flecks of blue dance a little more wildly in her eyes. "Hey, um, I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear-umm, let me start over. I couldn't help but eavesdrop when Mr. Broderick was talking to you in there."

"It's okay," Chris said, finding it as easy as always to feign indifference. "I'm used to my stupidity being put on display."

"You're not stupid," she argued. "I don't think you are. Obviously you aren't. I mean...I don't know. I don't think you're stupid at all, Chris."

"Really," he chuckled incredulously.

"Yes," she said back firmly. "In fact, I think it would be really awesome if you were to show everyone how unstupid you are."

"Unstupid's not a word."

"Very perceptive," she praised. "Anyway, I can help you ace the quiz on Monday. I mean...if you want. Like if you don't want my help, that's cool; I'm sure you could do it yourself, it's not like you're stupid or anything, so-"

"I'd like your help, Elena," he said, steadying her.

"Not just to shut me up?"

"No." He shrugged. "Well, maybe 20 percent to shut you up."

"Okay," she said eagerly, and it made Chris a little sad to know that this smile of hers went ignored more often than it lit up the lives she past by. "Are you free tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but you're doing that thing here," he reminded her.

"Just come to the school. I'll work on some study packages tonight and go through them with you tomorrow and while you work on them, I'll work on my project."

"Umm, I don't think any kind of authority is going to let me within ten feet of school on a Saturday."

"You'll be with me. I'll tell them that you're my guinea pig and I need you for my experiment."

"That should work," Chris said, and then raised an eyebrow. "That's not true, right? I'm not into experimentation. I have limits. I certainly don't get kinky at school on Saturdays."

She blushed and shook her head. "I'll see you tomorrow. Meet me outside by the bike rack at nine, okay?"

"Sure. Thanks." He suddenly found himself smiling. "You make study packages on Friday nights?"

"I will for you," she replied, tossing a look over her shoulder before she entered the biology room. A tendril of her hair curled up against her rosy cheek as her eyes breezed over him and she disappeared out of his sight.

Feeling a lot like smiling, Chris stuck his notebook under his arm and jammed his hands in his pockets. As he walked down the hallway, his steps had a shuffling, carefree rhythm to them, and he didn't really care that he was late or that there wasn't any music. Sweetness was a rareity for Chris Chambers, and when he came across it, he couldn't stop it from making him uncharacteristically cheerful. If he wanted to walk like a clown or grin like a Cheshire cat with no ulterior motives, then he was going to, and he didn't care who happened to be walking down the hallway at the same time.

Speaking of which, walking the opposite way down the same hallway at the same time was Gordie Lachance. Well, he was moreso half running, half skipping. "Chris!" he blurted, skidding to a stop upon seeing his best friend.

"Hi, Gordie," Chris said nonchalantly. "Who forgot to tell me it was Skip Like the Sugar Plum Fairy Day today?"

"Go to hell, retard," Gordie laughed breathlessly. "I think I'm in love."

"Oh, man. Gordo, I keep telling you, your mom's kinda pretty for a mom but you can't."

"Okay, hold that thought," Gordie said, a murderous glint in his eyes. "Just let me lead you outside into traffic."

"Traffic? Oh, you mean the chuckwagon and the random house cat?" Chris nodded. "Let's go."

"Eff you. I was trying to tell you a story."

"'Eff' me? Who says that?" Chris snorted.

"I'm trying to get into the habit of not swearing, okay?" Gordie snapped. "There's this, girl, Chris, I'm serious, and I'm freaking out a little bit."

"Really? I couldn't tell by the grip of death you've got on my arm."

"Shut upppppp," he whined. "She's gorgeous, man. You don't even know. And I think I just did something stupid."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"I just joined student council."

Chris exploded into laughter. Knee-slapping, head-tossed-back giggles. Gordie stared at him while he cackled loudly, patiently waiting for the momentary lapse of sanity to pass. Finally, Chris' giggles turned into snickers, and the snickers subsided into shudders of glee. "Oh?" he managed to ask.

"Oh," Gordie confirmed.

"What for?"

"The girl."

"No girl is worth student council."

"This one is," Gordie insisted. "I ran into her carrying all of these art supplies and shit down to the home ec room so that she could work on making posters for Spirit Week next week, so I helped her out because I thought she'd be impressed by and grateful for my brawn."

"Brawn," Chris laughed.

"Shut up, I'm not done yet!" Gordie sighed, and then went on with his story. "Okay, so I help her carry her shit and then she's like 'You know, we could really use someone like you to help with Spirit Week.' And so I was like 'You could use someone like me? What's someone like me like?' and she was like 'Useful.'"

"Oh God," Chris giggled.

"One more outburst from you and you will die," Gordie promised. "So I told her that I'd love to give her a hand-"

"In her pants."

"Once I'm done talking, I'm going to kill you, just so you know." He shook his head. "So tomorrow morning at eight-thirty AM, I'm coming here to the school. On a Saturday. To paint posters and put up crepe paper. For a girl."

"Well, you've always been a little crazy, Gordie," Chris told him sympathetically. "Hey, but guess what. I'm going to be here tomorrow too."

"Whaaat? Chris Chambers at an education facility on a Saturday? I hope you don't get smited."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You're welcome. Why are you going to be here?"

"For a girl," he said in a teasing voice.

"Shut up, you don't like girls. You're in love with me. I read so in your diary. That pink one. You know which one I'm talking about?"

"You know what, I'm going to kick your ass too. Just so you know."

"Hey, didn't you miss your bus? Do you want a ride home?"

Chris smiled and put his friend in a headlock as they walked towards the front of the school together. "Okay, just as long as you promise you won't try to throw me from the moving vehicle.

"Well, goddammit."