Chapter 2: Appeasing the Drama Gods.

"We take sour sips

From life's lush lips,

And we shake, shake, shake the hips

In relationships."

-The Carpal Tunnel of Love

-Fall Out Boy

North Heights Preparatory School for the Gifted wasn't. It should have been called North Heights Preparatory School for the Rich and Famous, because that made up almost the entire student body. It was a large building that had been serving the community for over 100 years. It sat on the side of a moutainish-hill. Something that was too big to be a hill, and yet too small to be a mountain. The school was visible from anywhere in town (except in the mornings when a fog rolled in and hid it from sight.).

The architecture was a hodge podge of any given era. The school having been extended and built upon over the years. A long road round up the moutainish-hill to the parking-lot that spread out in front of the school like some massive asphalt sea. Five great pillars held up the grand entrance. Every morning the students would walk up the steps and under the archways that those pillars supported, and into the court yard. There were seven main buildings making a circle around the court yard. Starting on the left they were the Rothschild Building (named after Lindell's great-great-grandfather who donated a ton of money to the school), the Harrington Building (named after some old-time actor who donated a ton of money to the school), the Nora Building (named after some old-time politician who donated a ton of money to the school), the Main Office (conveniently devoid of a name), the Martin Luther King Jr. Building (because for some reason all schools needed one of these), the Washington Building (going back to the pattern of being named after some old-time big shot who donated a ton of money to the school (though not related to our Samantha)), and finally the Kingsley Building (named after the first headmaster).

And today was the first day of school.

Ferrari. Fast. Strong. Sex. Words that were synonymous with the car company- and with Lindell Rothschild. The jet red 430 Scuderia Ferrari didn't slow as it swerved and pulled into the parking spot next to the white BMW Z4. It was Lindell's turn to drive to school and he always, always, arrived in style.

Blake's long legs preceded her as she stepped slowly out of the passenger seat. She spent a moment to adjust her black skirt that barely covered her ass and the white button up that was her top. Gold links made an oversized necklace that clinked as she walked. Today she carried a clutch; first day of school meant no need for backpacks or bags.

"Morning my love." T.J. greeted in his lovey-dovey voice. He was leaning back on his BMW and smiling at her warmly. He wore jeans that were too tight and a beige corduroy jacket over a black shirt. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead and turned and waited for Lindell.

Lindell was a little bit slower at getting out. He rustled his own light brown hair and yawned loudly. Stepping out he tugged at his button down shirt and striped tie. His black pants a little uncomfortable. It was obvious that Blake had dressed him that morning. He slipped his messenger bag over his head and locked his precious and then walked around the back to stand next to his friends.

"I hate being here again." He muttered. He scratched at the stubble artfully growing on his chin. "Didn't last year just end?"

"Seems like the summer was just one big drunken blur." T.J. stated. He walked back around to his door and leaned into his roadster to get the Starbucks triple venti upside down caramel macchiato that was sitting in his cup holder. He also had a grande iced white chocolate mocha, which he handed to Blake.

"Summer was one big drunken blur for you T.J." Blake chuckled. "You weren't sober a minute of it." He shook his heads and rolled his eyes up. A joke prayer to Allah.

"Hey guys." Kyle was walking up to them, heading away from the school. The motorcycle parking was up front by the entrance. He pulled his leather gloves off and stuffed them in his matching leather jacket. Simple white tee and jeans underneath. He pulled his cell phone out of one of those pockets and started to text. His black backpack was carelessly thrown over one shoulder. "We ready for our first day back at hell?" He seemed fairly chipper. Everyone mumbled a response.

"Who are you texting?" Blake finally asked when they were almost to the large archway entrance. They had all been silent except for the clicking of Kyle's cell phone keys.

He looked up at her through his bangs, a little surprised, as if he had forgotten that they were there. "Oh, no one, er- Sam. I'm texting Sam."

"Sam from last night?" Blake asked, but then regretted it almost immediately. The four of them fell silent and shuffled awkwardly. Now they were crowded around by other students coming into the school. For the amount of gossip fed students swarming the school on the first day it was oddly quiet all around. An uneasy silence plagued not only the four friends but the entire school. Any mention of the previous night or the Black Party got odd stares and awkward silences.

"Ry!" Lin broke off from the group when he spotted the older boy standing just a little farther off. Ryland was sitting on one of the low walls that circled the various flowerbeds in the court yard. He was flanked by Germaine and Jorge. All three of them were being uncomfortable and not making eye contact with each other.

But, as usual, when Lin walked up to them Germaine perked up like an eager puppy greeting his master. Germaine always gravitated towards Lin. He even leaned in Lin's direction when standing by him. It wasn't that he was attracted to Lin. (He wasn't Perro. He liked girls not guys.) But he was attracted to being popular and Lin was top dog. Being Lin's friend meant being In. And he so desperately wanted to be In.

"Hello, Lindell, how are you?" Ryland asked, his voice bright, he smiled one of those fake smiles that some one in great distress smiles to make everyone feel better.

"I don't give a fuck how I am." Lin stated bluntly. He spoke directly to Ryland, totally ignoring Germaine and Jorge. They were Ry's friends not his. They were from the Other Side. They were Out. "What's up with you? How are you doing man?"

Of course Lindell would be the first to confront Ryland about the previous night. Lindell was confrontation, he didn't beat around the bush, he didn't fuck around. (Okay, well maybe he did.)

"I'm okay mate. I haven't gotten much sleep: the fuzz were there all morning." Ryland had a way of inserting odd slang into his everyday sentences. "They expect foul play but nothing to do with me, my home, or my party. But they will probably be bringing in a lot of us for questioning. You know those who knew Rachel and Sasha."

The two names hung in the air then. Like something off, something tainted. Something dead.

Rachel Rainquess.

Sasha Ngyuen.

"When do you think they will be calling people in?" Jorge asked. He was normally silent, but now he was curious, and little sated his curiosity.

"I don't know, they didn't tell me." Ryland said. He ran a hand over his head and breathed out slowly. "Well," He stood up and picked up his backpack. "If you'll excuse me I need to find my first period." He ambled off, Jorge in tow. Germaine hung behind trying to think of something cool and smooth to say to Lin. Something that would catch the boy's attention.

"Come on Lin." Ky was at Lindell's shoulder now. He brushed a lock of blonde hair out of his eyes and gently shoved his friend in the shoulder. "You don't wanna be late do you?"

"I've been late for everything else in life." Lindell countered and the two of them headed off to class. Germaine was left standing by himself in front of a bed of dying lilies. He grumbled to himself about how much of an idiot he was. If he froze like that in front of the In crowd how did he ever expect to get into it? He resolved to start a notebook of ice breakers for the next time he crossed paths with Lindell, or Racquel, or Naomi.

But Kyle had been at least partially correct; he didn't want to be late for class. Germaine glanced at the other students all around him. They were all rich with high fashion and high friends. Unlike him, a poor kid from the other side of the tracks. And in this town it was more literal than just a saying. A train track did run through one part of town, running up to the paper mill that his parents worked for.

Germaine and his half-ass parents, and his half-ass life. He was going to get out of it. He was going to succeed and if that meant kissing the ass of everyone he met then he was up to the challenge.

But now it was time for class.

There were seven minutes allotted to the students to get from one class to the next, and stop at their lockers if need be. But seven minutes were all that the students of North Heights Preparatory School for the Gifted needed.

To create some drama.

Some how, in some odd way (actually it wasn't that odd, Blake just like to think of it was such) Kyle and her had ended up with the same third period. Ky and Cake had a purely platonic relationship with each other. Lindell was the connecting factor. One fashioned himself as Lin's best friend, the other actually was. It wasn't that the two of them didn't get along, but they had clashing personalities and so couldn't fully function together. Especially without the Lindell factor.

But here they were- heading off, shoulder to shoulder, to Advance Chemistry. No words were passed between them, until Rack came into view down the hall. Racquel and Richard Smith were twins. And even though they were fraternal twins they still looked oddly alike. Both tall and slender with that chocolate milk smooth skin that was common of those with mixed ancestry. Rack's hair was tightly permed, and on this morning, pulled back into a bunnish-thing. She was dressed even less than Cake, with a short, short leather skirt and a black tank-top that had gold trimming. It was actually a bad choice and made her look more hooker than high school student. Rick, her brother, was dressed to match with black pants and a black shirt. A gold scarf was wrapped around his neck. (What pretentious bastard wears a scarf in this weather?) They were both standing at a locker chatting and laughing, both surrounded by a large group of peers that hung on their every word.

"Oh! Cake! Cake honey!" Rack called out when her hawk like eyes spotted them. Blake picked up her pace and Ky had to almost sprint to keep up, his legs weren't as long as hers. But this had been apparently planed for and a wing of Rack's followers broke off and spread across the hall to block their escape. "Cake, honey, I just want to talk." Rack had always had the voice of a disappointed head mistress, booming and commanding.

"I don't want to talk." Blake muttered, almost too quiet for anyone to hear. Her green eyes met Rack's and electricity passed between them.

"What's the matter? Is this about last year? I'm sorry, I really am. I was hoping we could put that all behind us now." Somewhere in the crowd Blake swore she spotted Rob. But the moment was fleeting and he disappeared again. It was odd. Like the past beckoning her. Rack noticed her unfocused eyes and tried to bring her to attention. "I just want to be friends."

Of course she did. Blake wasn't stupid she had played this game for much too long. But now that Blake wasn't an immediate threat to Rack, after The Fall, the other girl wished to fix old wrongs and gain an ally against Mimi. Because even if she wasn't queen bee anymore Blake still had pull over many people in the school.

"I don't want to be friends, Rack, okay? How about you just leave me alone?" Blake said. Her eyes searched the crowd again, if Rob really had been there, if he wasn't just a trick of the light…

"Why? What's your problem Cake? Why are you so cold all the time?" Rack countered. Rick drew up behind her and put a calming hand on her shoulder. "Stay out of this Rick." She shrugged it off.

"I'm not going to be a little puppet in the Rack Empire." Blake stated, rather bluntly, and tried to shove her way out of the circle of students. Rack grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

"Who said you would be a puppet? I'm not some cold hearted bitch."

"What? You're not some cold hearted bitch like me? Is that what you were going to say? Huh?"

Rack threw her hands up defensively and took a step back. "Um, no. That wasn't what I meant at all." She had been caught a little off guard by Cake's reaction.

"Because guess what, you are a cold hearted bitch." Cake spat.

"That was uncalled for, I'm only trying to make amends honey." Rack glanced warily at Rick. He took a defensive step in front of his sister.

"Come on Cakey, calm down. My sister is just trying to make nice." He tried to remedy the situation.

"Oh yeah, like an 'I'm sorry' is going to fix our relationship!" Blake was yelling now. "We hate each other if you've forgotten." She jabbed an accusing finger in Rack's face. Rick swatted it away quickly and grabbed Blake by the shoulders.

"Calm down, Cake, please." He really did sound like he was begging down.

"Take your hands off of her." Kyle stepped forward for the first time in the argument and gave Rick a little shove on the shoulder.

"Woah, dude, I'm just trying to calm her down." Rick explained. Ky glanced back at Blake, she was beginning to redden in the face and couldn't quite look at them.

"Why is your bitchy sister trying to do this anyway? What is she trying to pull?" Ky accused. He liked Rack just as little as Blake did.

"That's enough of that." Rick said and punched Kyle in the face. It was a quick jab that connected solidly with his cheek bone.

"Bastard." Kyle swung his arm at Rick, but the other boy ducked and dodged it. Then they were both on the floor rolling around, punching and kicking. Neither of the boys were light weights, Rick was on the football team, and Kyle worked out on a regular basis. Even still Rick was six something feet tall and soon had the upper hand.

Blake had become lost in the moment. Her eyes were transfixed on the two boys as their bodies twisted and writhed on the floor in front of her. It was like she was watching it through someone else's eyes. As if it was a dream with the edges blurring. Somewhere she could hear Rack screaming, but it was distant. All other sounds were muted to her ears.

Suddenly there were teachers flanking the students. The crowd was being dispersed, but not Blake. She felt a warm hand clamp onto her shoulder. Two male teachers were tearing Rick and Ky apart. A female teacher was leading Rack away. Blake saw now that Rack was crying. Tears streaming down her cheeks. She scoffed. Amateurish theatrics at best.

All four of them were being ushered down the hall and out of the building. No Chemistry for Blake today. Across the courtyard and into the Main Office. All four were sat down on the cold hard chairs that lined the wall outside of the principle's office. There was a waiting room with comfy arm chairs just down the hall, but they wouldn't be waiting there.

Blake finally came out of her state of delusion and looked over at Ky. His left eye was red and would no doubt be black by this time tomorrow. He also had a cut on his cheek and one of the sleeves of his white t-shirt had been ripped off. But other than that he seemed fine. Rick was in even better condition, his scarf had gone missing and his nose was bleeding but that was all.

"Richard Smith, Kyle Role." The door opened slowly and Principle Wutherland was standing there. Wutherland was young for a principle, but notoriously hard and cold. He was tall and had broad shoulders. Some said he used to be a prison warden. His dark hair was always short, and he had a goatee that was terribly out of fashion. His intense eyes followed the two boys as they shuffled into the office, shoving pass each other.

Then the door was closed and Rack and Blake were left alone.

"I'm sorry." Rack muttered. This time it sounded genuine. But that was something Blake just couldn't believe. "Cake," The darker girl turned to the pale one. They spent a moment taking each other in. "It shouldn't be like this. You hate Naomi, I hate Naomi, we should be working together to take her down, not fighting each other."

"'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'" Blake quoted.

"The Contender?" Rack smiled at her.

"No, an ancient Arab Proverb." Blake rolled her eyes and tugged at her skirt. She tried to avoid direct eye contact with the girl sitting next to her.

"So... Friends?" Rack asked. She held out her hand like some form of peace offering.

"Allies." Blake improvised. Both perfectly manicured, soft hands shook.

And that's how Blake and Racquel became best frenemies.

Lunch. The greatest period of the school day. Students flood the courtyard with food and drinks.

And just a dash of drama to spice things up.

By now the students had gotten use to being back at school. And the topic of Rachel and Sasha had been put on the back burner for more pressing matters, like Naomi's rise to power. Like who had broken up with whom, who had hooked up with whom, and most pressingly: who had fucked who?

Lindell of course was often mentioned. The scope of his popularity was hard to place. He was amazingly handsome, came from one of the oldest families in the city, and fucked just about anything that had two legs and breasts. (And there had been that one girl who only had one leg so even those standards were flexible.) Not to mention that he was best friends with Blake. The former Princess of North Heights Prep, who now was a bottom feeder.

"Yo! Lin, my man, wait up." Ky picked up his pace to catch up with Lin, who was carrying his tray of food all the way across the courtyard to the far corner. At North Heights Prep the menu always consisted of gourmet and delectable dishes. Today, the first day of school, the meal consisted of steak (done to their liking) with roasted herb potatoes and a corn casserole. The chef at the school was classically trained in France. Though he had some odd obsession with Americana Diner food.

"Can you believe that I got in a fight with Rick Smith?" Ky laughed and tried flaunting his newly acquired battle wounds. Lin wasn't even listening to him, much less noticing his blackening eye and bandaged cheek. To Lin any fight that Ky got into was totally pointless and irrelevant. "Of course stupid Principle Wutherland didn't do anything but yell at us. Stupid old man. I heard that he used to be a gay porn star. You know all that Dave and Pear Fruit shit."

"Oh. My. God. Lin. You. Fucking. Bastard." Both boys jumped a little and looked around for the owner of the voice. And there she was. North Heights Prep's very own Gossip Girl, the proverbial Queen of Gossip: Jessika Holdman.

"What is it, Jess?" Lin muttered. He set his tray of food on a near by table and adjusted his tie. He was just a little tired of all the drama that Jess brought around with her everywhere.

Jess stood at five foot exactly and was real sensitive about it. She had a large Jewish nose that she loved to stick in everyone's business. Her curly roan hair stuck out on the side of her head. She looked like she had the mane of a lion. She turned her freckled nose up at Lindell and Kyle and scoffed indignantly.

"I know what you did with Rack." She shook her head and narrowed her eyes. There were two other girls and a boy flanking her on either side. She wore a blue shirt with a checkered vest, which aptly pushed up her already good sized breasts in all the right places, and a pair of skinny jeans. Technically she was a member of Rack's circle, but Lin couldn't see the other girl anywhere.

"What did he do?" Kyle eyed the girl, then cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at Lin. He mouthed the same question to him, but Lin just shrugged nonchalantly.

"He broke Kace and Jim." The two boys now realized that one of the two girls by her was crying. But it wasn't Kace there crying, where was Kace? "She's at home; she refuses to come to school. You made her feel horrible like some type of cheap skank."

Then it clicked.

"I want to hear you say my name Lin." She had commanded. "I want to hear you scream it."

Her name had been Kacie Carnegie. Suddenly Lin remembered her name. He glanced over at Kyle and nodded his head. Just a slight incline that barely rustled his light brown hair. But to Ky it was blatantly obvious.

Kyle took a long step back, his eyes hurriedly scanning the crowd. Then he saw his goal. A couple. Just two people quietly making out in the shade of a tree. He recognized them both instantly. Not the best choice but good enough for the amount of time he had.

"What the hell?! Is that Marie Sinclair making out with Georgio Milan?" He shouted across the courtyard. Every head turned together in one instant. Every eye fell on the two people sitting under the tree. Of course they were kissing, they were dating (they had been for the last three years) but the shock and tension in Ky's voice caught everyone's attention.

Why shouldn't they be kissing?

What had she done?

What had he done?

This opportune time to find the juiciest gossip distracted Jess as she started to shove her way through the crowd with all the force of a linebacker. Lin and Ky both took this moment to slink away before anyone realized that there was nothing wrong or odd about the scene.

"What about Mare and Gio?" Blake asked as they found her sitting on a bench by the Rothschild building. She was nibbling on a garden salad with sliced avocados and a light vinaigrette. She looked up at them expectantly through the curtain of her dark hair.

"Nothing, Jess had confronted Lin, I distracted her." Ky grinned and brushed his hair out of his eyes. His voice carried a certain amount of pride in his vile work.

Lin sat next to Blake on the bench and offered her a piece of his steak. She shook her head: she was vegetarian (this week). He shrugged and stuffed the piece in his mouth instead. "Confronted you about what?" She asked slowly.

Lin chewed his meat a full 32 times before swallowing and answering. "Me fucking Kace." He took a gulp of his Fiji water to wash out his mouth.

"Oh." She poked at her salad with her fork and glanced out at the crowd. She could put two and two together and figured that had been the girl from last night. "Isn't she dating Jimmy Highworth?"

"Yep, well not anymore. She won't, like, come out of her room. He's supposedly sitting outside her door; begging her to get back together with him. Like, how desperate is that?" Dave cut in as he walked up with his own tray of potatoes with a large clump of corn casserole. (No steak, unlike Blake, he was always vegetarian.) He sat next to Blake on the bench and slipped a spoonful of corn into his mouth.

"Lin, you really are a bastard, you know that?" Blake glared at her best friend. He shrugged and took another bite of steak.

"Like I care." He mumbled shifting the chunk of meat around his cheeks with his tongue. Perro (now standing next to Dave) watched the meat with envy. If only he could be that disintegrating clump of steak in Lin moist mouth.

"But that's what we love about him." Ky piped in. Standing across from the other four he might have been the only one who would have seen Perro's longing stare at Lin, if his own eyes weren't too busy watching a pair of breasts bounce by him. "Right, Pear Fruit?"

Perro jumped at the sound of his name. He glanced at the others and felt his cheeks grow warm. He hated the way Ky called him Pear Fruit. It sounded derogatory. Some type of insult. But he knew if he said anything it would grow from just something that Ky said to a full blown nickname, and he couldn't have that.

"Yeah- sure, whatever." He muttered half heartedly. He hadn't really heard the question.

"So, are we all ready for the White Dance tonight?" Dave chattered excitedly. "I mean like really, oh my God! I'm so-o excited!" He gave a side long look at Perro that spoke volumes to him. Perro knew what he was going to be doing after the White Dance tonight.

"We're taking a limo from my place after the Dinner tonight? Right, B.L.?" Lin confirmed. She looked up from her salad and quickly nodded, glancing at Perro and Ky. They both remained silent, awkwardly shuffling on their feet. Before the dance that night Lindell's parents would be holding their annual Rothschild End of Summer Dinner. Only the richest of the Old Families were invited. So while Blake would of course be there, as would Dave, Perro's family (too radical), and Ky's family (much too new) were most definitely not invited. While Lin had no concept of the embarrassment that the subject might bring their friends she did.

"Speaking of the White Dance," Ky continued, changing the subject. "Have any of you seen-." He stopped and turned to Samantha Washington who had, just by chance, been walking behind him at that very moment. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her toward him, while balancing his tray with his other hand. "Hey, Sam, would you like to be my date to the White Dance tonight?" She chuckled and pecked him on the nose.

"Of course, Ky." She took a bite of his herbed baked potato and giggled. "And will Carly be going with Lin?" It wasn't so much a question as an ultimatum.

Ky turned an expectant face to his best friend. Lin almost glared at him. It wasn't Lin's scene to be tied to one girl for more than a single night. But he hadn't even slept with Carly yet so he wasn't that angry. "Sure." He swallowed another bite of steak. Lin turned away from Sam, who skittered off to rejoice with Carly, and grumbled at Blake. "These things are so tedious."

"Oh will you shut up?" She rolled her eyes and speared a tomato with her fork. T.J. was filming the student news at the moment and so wouldn't join her for lunch. She wasn't in a good mood.

"Well, get this. After I got in a fight with Rick," Kyle leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"Oh yeah! How did that go?" Dave asked. But Ky held up a single finger to shush him.

"Guess who made best friends with Racquel Smith?" All eyes fell on Blake and Dave screeched a little.

Apparently the Drama Gods had been appeased and the rest of the school day went fairly quickly. For becoming new allies Rack and Cake didn't speak once the entire day. Mimi stayed with her own friends mostly as well.

The temperature rose as the hours passed and by the time the final bell rang it was stifling hot out. Ryland stepped out of AP Calculus and made his way quickly across the courtyard. His first day of his senior year had gone fine; he had luckily avoided all the drama that seemed to plague his friends.

He wiped some sweat from his brow and shed his black and red track jacket. He slowed his steps and hesitated at the pillars at the entrance of the school. He knew what waited for him at home. The police would surely still be their poking around and waiting to ask him more questions. He had to stay with a friend (Donna) after the party last night, but they had assured him that he would be able to come home by the time school was over. The crime scene should be processed and cleaned away by then.

"Hey, Ry!" He turned his head at the sound of his name. Germaine and Jorge were coming his direction. Those two were probably his closest friends at the school, much to the disdain of many. Jorge was a senior like him and was also adopted like Ry was. They got along well and Ryland didn't have any problem with the lower-middle class thing. They had actually met through Jorge's mom who was the Holden's maid. Germaine was a junior and less of Ryland's friend: he just came with the Jorge package. In fact Ryland found Germaine's obsession with climbing the social ladder increasingly annoying.

"Hello, mates." Ryland gave another of his brave smiles. He had invited them both to the Black Party but neither of them had actually attended. Jorge slapped Ryland on the back and laughed, shooting a glance at Germaine. Jorge (he made sure you pronounced it "George" and not "Hor-hay") was actually fairly good looking and Ryland was surprised that he wasn't more popular. He was as tall as Ryland was had broad shoulders. Being on the football team meant that he trained a lot and it was obvious. Jorge was ripped and all his muscles were well defined. His blonde hair was buzzed close to his skull (Similar to Ry's except his stuck up like little pins and Ry's was tightly curled.) he also had these harsh dark eyes that seemed to always be watching.

"I was wondering if you could give Germaine a lift home, I have to go straight to work and don't have time." Ryland met eyes with Jorge for a moment before nodding. Germaine cheered and clapped. At North Heights Prep there were no public busses. It was all up to the students to get to school. Jorge shook hands with Ry and smiled a little crookedly. "Thanks I owe you one man." Jorge then nodded at Germaine and walked off towards his own car, an old rusted out Lincoln from the early nineties.

"Thanks, I kinda forgot that he worked today." Germaine rubbed the back of his neck a little nervously. Ryland crossed his arms and glanced out at the parking lot. Germaine always seemed a little nervous.

"No prob, anytime mate."

"Hey, Ry, over here!" Ryland turned again, he was popular today, and spotted Dave and Perro walking over from the Rothschild Building. Ry waved and waited for them to get to the pillars. It was Perro who had called his name. Perro was actually fairly short for all the presence he carried himself with. His black hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. His skin was dark in accordance with his Hispanic heritage (unlike Jorge who was pale like the morning sun even though he was equal amounts Latino as Perro) and his eyes were the darkest a brown could be without being black. He wore a red button up shirt with white pin stripes. He had it unbuttoned most of the way, revealing quite a bit of chest. His pants were dark jeans that looked too tight.

"You're going to the White Dance tonight, of course." Perro asked. Well, he more stated; being as it is unheard of for some one not to go especially the person who threw the Black Party.

"Yep, of course Pear." Ryland didn't know where Perro was going with this.

"Who are you going with?" The question seemed innocent enough.

"Donna- Madonna Troy." Donna and he weren't going out per se, but they were close friends, and everyone needed a date to the White Dance, it was required of the upperclassmen.

Perro nodded as if he was some detective interrogating Ry. He turned to Dave who nodded back. Dave was taller than Perro but had a much weaker presence so almost always seemed shorter.

"You do know Cake is coming right? With T.J." Perro pointed out. Ryland rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Come on, Germaine, let's roll." Ryland pulled his keys out of his pocket and started down the steps to the parking lot. Germaine, not sure what to do, glanced back at the two boys, then followed Ry down to the asphalt.

"Wait! Are you going to the dinner today?" Dave called after them. Ryland stopped mid step, his shoulders hunched up. "Er… You are allowed to come even if your parents aren't in town." He tried to amend.

But Ryland quickly picked back up his pace and walked out to the Lexus SC that was parked just pass the motorcycle parking. He got in and turned over the engine. Germaine slipped into the passenger seat without a word. The vehicle hummed to life the air conditioning turned on and the leather interior began to fill with cool air. Dave and Perro silently watched Ry pull out and drive off of school property. The Holdens were always invited to all the dinners and parties, just they were never in the country and Ry never appeared at them without his parents.

The town rolled away behind them. Most of it was shops and clubs, little restaurants and other things that the rich and fabulous liked to do in their spare time. Golf courses stretched out on the edge of town as far as the eye could see. This was a city based entirely around the whims and fancy of the upper crust. The streets were all "avenues" and "boulevards" and other such ridiculous classifications that made the residents feel better about themselves.

"You're going to want to turn here." Germaine quipped in. Ry glanced and saw that he was suppose to turn there, he had been brooding again and it had distracted him. He made a left from Presley Boulevard onto 5th street.

Instantly the surroundings changed. The cafes and delicatessens became fast food joints and dives. Just a little farther off the paper mill that was the life force of the town was visible. To say that this part of town was poor and a dump would be a lie. It was actually quite nice. A little suburban, and little inner cityesque: everyone middle class. Just in a city of the glamorous and rich middle class was poor.

The amazing suspension on Ry's gun metal Lexus took the full blunt of the train track when they passed over it. They didn't even feel it.

"That's it right there." Germaine pointed out a low fading yellow house with an open and empty garage. Ry pulled into the driveway and waited as Germaine got out. "Thanks again." Germaine said as he stepped onto the pavement. "I would invite you in… but you know…" Ry just nodded and waved. Germaine's house was an absolute pig sty that was never cleaned.

"I'll see you at the Dance tonight?" The older boy asked.

"Naw, going to stay in and watch a movie." Germaine wanted desperately to go, but couldn't afford to rent a tux. Ry nodded and waved again, then pulled out of the driveway.

The drive from Germaine's house to his was quick. When he pulled up his foot fell lightly on the brake, slowing but not stopping. They had kept their word- there was no yellow tape, no car in the pool, and only one police cruiser parked out front. The gaping hole in his den was still there though.

"Good afternoon," The larger of the two cops that waited in his kitchen greeted as Ryland walked in. The two policemen sat on stools in front of his bar sipping coffee from Dunkin' Doughnuts.

"How's the damage?" Ry asked.

"We are sure that it had nothing to do with you or your party," He said party very carefully. "except for the fact that the victims were on their way to your party."

"Why?" Ryland started, then paused and reformed his question. "What killed them, was it the crash? Because then what caused them to crash?"

"The bodies are still at the morgue, they are performing the autopsy as we speak." It was the smaller of the two that spoke this time. He had a much deeper voice than the large one, making them sound like some weird comedy duo.

"We will probably need to call you down for another questioning in the next few days, but for now your fine. Their insurance will be covering the damages- they called while you were out." The first cop squeaked. He glanced at his watch and looked at his partner.

"We need to be back at the station." They both stood and started for the door.

"Oh, and we don't suggest staying here: the interior stability may have been ruined. It might collapse for all we know." Then they were both gone.

Ryland sighed and picked up the phone. Guess he was staying with Donna again.