page 6

[green]

All the students are allowed to go off campus for lunch if they have a note from a parent, but Mikey didn't think to get a note. Bathrooms are always good for grabbing a quick smoke though, so Mikey chooses the one farthest away from administration and walks in, looking around. There's already one guy hanging out on the big windowsill, window cracked open, smoking a cigarette. The guy is blond with broad shoulders and blue eyes. Mikey curses his hormones for the millionth time – why does he have to notice everything about everyone?

Mikey's got his own cigarette but he asks the guy for a light. The guy doesn't say anything, but he doesn't just hand over his lighter, either. He lights it, holding it still while Mikey gets his cigarette going.

“Thanks,” Mikey says.

“No problem,” the guy says, and Mikey instantly likes his voice. It's a little gruff but friendly, and Mikey asks him his name.

“Bob,” the guy says, smiling with his eyes.

Mikey takes a deep drag of his cigarette and says, “I'm Mikey Way.”

Bob nods. “Gerard's brother?”

“You know Gerard?” Mikey asks, a little surprised because Gerard goes out of his way to be the weird kid nobody wants to get to know.

“I tutored him last year,” Bob says. “In Spanish.”

Mikey didn't know Gerard even took Spanish, let alone needed tutoring in it. Mikey's taking Spanish I this year (again), and thinks maybe making friends with Bob might be advantageous. But not if Bob's an asshole. He seems okay so far, but Mikey knows a surefire way to weed out assholes from cool people.

“Do you like him?”

Bob smiles for real now, and says, “Gerard's pretty cool.”

Mikey's estimation of Bob goes up about a thousand percent.

“What does tutoring cost?” Mikey asks. “I'm taking Spanish again this semester and I'm hopeless at foreign languages. I tried last year and flunked out of the class.”

Bob shrugs and says, “Basically what you can afford. I don't mind doing it, so it's no big deal.”

“I might have to take you up on that,” Mikey says, and smiles. He pulls out his phone and hands it to Bob. “Program in your number?”

Bob nods and does it, then hands the phone back. “Call me when it starts getting tough.”

Mikey takes another drag of his cigarette and watches Bob out of the corner of his eye. He likes the way Bob takes deep drags and blows the smoke in a thin line out the window. It's ridiculous how sexy Mikey finds it. But that's probably just Mikey, finding everything and everyone hot beyond measure. He thinks he does a pretty good job of hiding it, though. Mikey's face is usually impassive and he rarely smiles, he speaks in a flat, monotone voice most of the time, and he doesn't laugh very often. He could have a crush on everyone and he'd be able to hide it.

“This where you usually hang out for lunch?” Mikey asks, watching Bob's hands. They're wide and capable.

“Sometimes I hang out in the band room,” Bob says.

“Are you in the school band?” Mikey asks, a little surprised. Bob doesn't strike him as a band geek.

Bob nods. “I play drums.”

That actually seems to fit Bob. Mikey can imagine him sitting at a drum kit, pounding away.

Mikey pulls out his iPod and asks, “What kind of music do you like?”

“Rock,” Bob says. “And some jazz.”

“I've got some Mar de Robles if you want to listen,” Mikey says, naming the one and only jazz fusion artist he's got.

Bob eyes him and then smiles, then takes the earbud Mikey offers.

They hang out, listening to the music and smoking, for the rest of the lunch period.

When the bell rings, Bob says, “Hey, if you ever want to just hang, you can text me.”

Mikey smiles. “Cool.”

They split up when they go on to their classes, and Mikey's thinking about how he's made a friend for the rest of the day.

After school, Mikey:


page 16 text Bob to say hi
page 17 go home