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Chapter 4

"Hey, why don't you ask that kid—what was his name again?—if you could stay over?" Liz asked me as she dropped me off at school.

"Which kid?" I asked monotonously.

"What do you mean, 'which kid'? Don't you have friends?"

No. "I have a ton, that's why I'm asking who."

"The one who dyes his hair a different color every day."

Immediately, one particular boy came to mind. "Michael Clifford?"

What I didn't understand is why Liz wanted me to stay at Michael's house. I remember going to Michael's house only once before, back in freshman year for some lame project for algebra 2. (I mean, seriously, what kind of teacher gives projects for algebra 2?) It was really awkward, because Liz didn't approve of Michael's ear piercings and the fact that his chocolate brown hair was not his natural hair color. But once she met Karen, Michael's mom, the two of them instantly clicked. But I never really hung out with Michael after that one project we had three years ago. I don't know why Liz wants me to be with him now.

"Yeah, him. What kind of parents would let their kid do that to their hair, anyway? He looks like a delinquent. I saw he has a tattoo on his arm, too. He has earrings as well, doesn't he?"

My jaw locked, and I felt myself getting upset. Just because someone dyes their hair, has tattoos, or any kind of piercings doesn't mean they're a bad person. I actually really wanted to rant, but I just countered by saying, "I have a lip ring."

Liz clicked her tongue, like she always done when she's irritated or agitated. "And you know very well I grounded you for months for getting that without asking me. You're very lucky I let you keep it, Lucas. I'm just saying that Michael looks like a bad influence."

"He's a good kid."

"He doesn't seem like one."

"Appearances aren't everything," I said—almost harshly. Liz always does that—judges a book by its cover. I remember one time in freshman year when she saw Michael talking to me after school, back when he dyed his hair black with blue across his bangs. She yelled at me, saying that I shouldn't be hanging out with kids like him. It's a good thing his parents changed her mind.

"Just ask him if you can come over today, okay?"

"Why?" I asked.

Liz snarled, and she turned her head towards me. "Just do what I ask!" she yelled at me.

"I will," I said, trying to keep my cool. "I just want to know why."

"Because it's Friday, and you're going to be home alone. I don't want you to be lonely."

What the fuck? I'm always home alone! Why is she doing this?

"Okay," I told her. "I'll ask him in homeroom."

"Good," Liz said. "Have a good day in school. I love you!"

"I know," I said. I slammed the door behind me, and I walked to my first period class like I always did.

I sat in the hallway where I always sat, and I waited for Michael to run in a minute before the tardy bell rang. I always wondered why Michael came so close to being late. He live right across the street to the school; he should be early! Or perhaps he knows that he lives right across the street and spends his mornings goofing around...

"Hello, Lucas I-Have-My-Headphones-On-All-The-Fucking-Time Hemmings," Michael said with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, hi."