Foot traffic was the peak for after homework bunches to put grubby hands on controls, so the timing for dinner was most opportune. Usually they dropped down across from the dance station, to watch the line and wait for the perfect moment to shark the line again for them. However today Ethan tilted towards his older friends, leaving Ren to slow with mild trepidation at the thought of sharing the table with the scariest guy in school. And Malcolm.

Okay no, Malcolm was the scariest, just a look could send freshman into tears. At least according to rumor. Swallowing thickly, Ren brought his tray forward, slipping into a seat across from said teen as Ethan had already claimed the one across from Elliott. “So, hey guys. Fancy meeting you here.” Malcolm snorted, snapping shut a sad looking little notebook and eying Ethan with one of those scrutinizing looks only Clint Eastwood had the balls to shoot off.

“Thought you were gonna dance your ass off with Birdie over here.” It wasn’t a growl, not as much. Mal had that rough smoker’s voice without ever taking a drag. Despite his bad boy attitude Ethan had once let him know in an offhanded way that the built teen abhorred cigarettes, despite what other kids might say about him. Ren absolutely refused to believe someone that exuded such a badass persona wasn’t hardcore to the bone, so he just smiled and nodded.

“Got hungry.” Oh, back to his regular self, maybe the mild pep talk helped?

“You’re always hungry. If you put as much thought about food, naps, and games into your effort at school, maybe your dad wouldn’t have asked us ever so nicely to hang out more.” Elliott pointed out, spearing a tomato from his slightly wilted salad.

“Oh, is that why you’re here? If that’s all it is, we can just spend a night a week studying, we have a few classes together.” Ren popped in after a bite of his burger, immediately shrinking when Elliott’s eyes narrowed in on him. Him and his big mouth.

“We are here because we enjoy little free time anymore, and our fathers decided to somewhat rectify that situation via forcing us all together in a somewhat ludicrous and harebrained scheme that also betters our relations for when we endeavour to take on the stoles of our various companies.” Elliott had this very special way of making someone feel very small when he wanted to.

“Come again?”

“Ethan’s dad threw a fit about him failing some classes and now we have to babysit. They just kinda threw all this extra shit on so it sounds better and smarter. Not that I care. I mean, I’ll hang with ‘im regardless. And we really did hang out a lot more when we were younger, just gets a little harder when more real life happens, you know?”

So, Elliott spoke college level, and Malcolm could translate. Perfect. “Hey, who am I to complain? I just um. You guys don’t have to like, sit in a corner booth and pretend to not know us while totally tailing us. Is this even a place you guys ever hang at?”

“Hey, don’t brush off Specks and me just ‘cause you’ve never seen us here. I happen to hold high record on Mansion of Morbidity.” Malcolm grumped out, crossing broad arms and eying him with a narrow look.

Ren gaped.

“Wait. Are you DEDMAL? That’s you? You own half the screen, not just the top slot! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone come close to your all time high!”

“Keep praising him, please.” Ethan drawled, stabbing a fry into his ketchup. “Not like his ego isn’t already huge. Go ahead and make him insufferable.”

“Why do you think Ethan likes this place so much? Specks holds a bunch of the records on the dance pads for some of the more tricky songs. And those luck games? You know the type; gotta hit the button at the right moment to get the most tickets? He’s like Rain Man with that. And I’m pretty damned good with all the games involving sports or guns.”

“I don’t know whether that’s awe inspiring or terrifying.”

“E, your friend says the nicest things.”

“Your friend now too. You guys horn in on our hangouts, he’s part of the group.” Ethan pointed out, eying the other two over his drink.

“Hey whoa, their choice. I’m all about choice.”

“I have been meaning to make introductions for quite some time, but we’ve all drifted substantially in the last year or so.” Elliott had something of an apologetic tint to his expression, setting aside his utensils in favor of toying with his napkin. In our grade school years we all spent quite some time here afterward, since we all went to the same private tutors. When we moved on to high school, we drifted and then...he met you.”

Ren was quiet for some time, chewing on his lip. Now that they’d eaten, his chest was starting to make its’ discomfort known in a dull throb. The wrap wasn’t a great job, and in his house on his desk there was a jar labeled ‘car fund’. More like ‘binder fund’, but he wasn’t exactly trying to let his parents know what was going on in his life so blatantly. “Was that a good thing?”

“I think so. Doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.” Ethan broke in, eyebrow raised in slight challenge towards the other two across from them at the table. Succinct as always.

“Unfortunately it does matter, though considering our families are paranoid, they probably already had a background check on every single person in your home room by the time you two met.” Malcolm pointed out with a shrug. “I think it’s good, you need more than one or two friends, it’s healthy and shit.”

“Eloquent as ever.” Elliott breezed on, taking a sip from his water. “I agree, and happily welcome you into the fold, seeing as we’re likely to spend far more time together.” His eyes slanted back towards the blond across from him, shrewd and sharp. “You look different than what I remember you as, I recall picking you up before with Ethan.”

Oh. Right. What a day to make new friends. “I cut my hair. Sort of got tired of pretending to care about it and all that.” He shrugged, reaching up to swipe the beanie from his hair and thinning his lips when an immediate snort ripped from the teen at his left. “Shut up, I had a hard time trying to use hair gel for the first time ever, okay?” His hair felt odd out from the slouchy wool, though it did feel nice to let heat escape and the mild fan breeze draft through.

“Jesus kid, it looks like you let a toddler play with scissors and fell asleep.” Malcolm's blunt honesty ripped through him, causing Ren to slouch further down in his seat as Ethan openly guffawed. “Specks, you need to fix it. Seriously. That kinda haircut is a career ender. How come you didn’t go get it cut at a salon?”

“Time and money man, and I thought it looked fine while I was doing it.” Ren defended as he toyed with his hat, his sulk obvious. “I didn’t want to waste dance money on it.” True enough. It was more like those moments you were confident on the outcome until the actual outcome. Oops.