"This guy needs to be taught some manners," Tanner huffs, lighting a cigarette. I have no doubt he's referring to Noah.

"I don't care about him," I say as dismissively as I can. I've never questioned how good of a liar I was. Am I overdoing it? "What's the deal with the job? I could use some cash."

Tanner eyes me, raising an eyebrow, smoke coiling around his lips. After taking another long drag and a pause, he finally speaks, "Remember Tobias? The guy with the broken leg?" I nod. "He can't work because of his leg, so he's offering us a job."

"What kind?"

"Push some dope."

"I knew that bag was full of shit," I exhale irritably, but Tanner ignores it and continues, "The Winter Formal is coming up, and a lot of people will be up for a good party and..."

"Are you for real?" I stare at Tanner, silencing him with my question. "The last guy who sold dope at school was caught within a month. You called him an idiot."

"He was an idiot!" Tanner laughs. "Because he got caught. You and me, we're not dumb, okay?"

I don't answer, just staring at Tanner without blinking.

"I thought you wanted to make some cash," he says, trying to coax me. "And I'm not planning to do this all the time, just at the ball. A bunch of people in one place is a perfect opportunity."

"A perfect opportunity to get caught with enough dope to be locked up for 20 years."

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Leighton?!" Tanner snaps. "Are you trying to piss me off? Because it's working!"

I rarely argue with Tanner. It happens, but mostly I go with his flow because I don't see much difference. But sometimes even my placid nature can't put up with his shit. And then a riot starts. On a micro scale, really. It's not that I'm not afraid of Tanner. We've had our share of fights, and he almost always won. Because when he didn't, we fought again.

I say, "We've talked about this. School is off-limits. We cause enough trouble as it is. And it's fun as long as they can do nothing but throw empty threats. And you know better than I do that we've pissed off enough people; they've got a whiff, they will put cops on our tails, no second thoughts. So why give them an easy way to get rid of us?" I think I've set a personal record for words spoken in a month, but Tanner seems more exasperated than impressed.

"Whatever," he spits out, dropping the finished cigarette. I'm going to regret this, aren't I?

The day drags on, and I feel Tanner's heavy gaze on the back of my skull as I return to classes. At least he's too mad at me to pay attention to anything else, including Noah, who disappears after the sixth period.

I trudge home to find it empty and cold as usual, but mom left me some food in the fridge. I eat quickly and escape the house. The Spot welcomes me with a crackling fire, loud laughter, and Tanner's brooding face. I take my usual place by the window and retreat into my thoughts. I don't talk to anyone or join in the fun, but it feels okay. Much better than being at home.

Bottles of beer are passed around, another treat from Max. I grab one and gulp down half of it in one go. Just a bitter sensation on my tongue. That, and persistent thoughts of Noah.

Ok, whatever. I have nothing better to do anyway. I might as well listen to what's going on in my head. Maybe I can figure this out.

I catch myself wondering if Noah would fit in at this party. Even if Tanner actually invited Noah to join our circle, it would mean Noah would have to go through a series of trials and humiliations. I don't want to watch that. I don't want to see him rolled down a hill in a barrel, or have rotten food thrown at him while he stands naked, or him begging on the street pretending he really needs to pee. Tanner has a rich imagination when it comes to torment.

But it's a way to become one of us. And why am I deciding for Noah? I barely know him. Maybe Noah wants this himself? What does this have to do with me? After all, if Tanner lets him join us, wouldn't that make me feel better? Wouldn't this stupid itch deep in my chest go away if I no longer had to distract Tanner's attention from Noah?

Because it was a weird day, and I've already had enough. Especially since I don't even know why I'm like that.

My thoughts seem logical enough. But despite all logic, I don't want Noah here. I don't want him to become one of us.

What the hell is wrong with me?! I don't even know him! Why am I thinking so much about a guy I didn't know existed a day ago?!

I'm distracted by a loud bang, like a gunshot, outside the warehouse, shattering the party atmosphere. All heads turn simultaneously.

"Come out, you little bitches!" a voice outside shouts. Tanner's expression darkens, his features hardening as he exchanges a glance with the other guys. Without a word, they rise from their seats, tension evident in their movements. I put my bottle down and follow them outside.

As we step into the cool air, we're met by a group of unfamiliar faces. There are only a few of them, but the problem is they're not teenagers like us. The man standing closest to us has a gun. He seems drunk and really angry. "Tanner?" he spits, his face contorting.

Tanner's jaw tightens, but he doesn't show any sign of fear. His posture is defiant as he squares his shoulders and meets the man's gaze head-on. "Who's asking?"

Ignoring his question, the man says, "You've got some nerve showing your face around here after what you did to my brother."

"You mean the wuss who couldn't handle a simple test and ran crying to the big man?" Tanner replies, sounding rather arrogant. I know he can't afford to lose face in front of the audience, but I wouldn't go that far with a pissed-off drunkard with a gun looking for a showdown. He might not want to lose face either.

"What the fuck did you just say?" the man cocks his gun.

"You heard me. Your brother not only couldn't pass the simplest test but also turned snitch. Do you think he'll survive on the streets like that? Maybe you should talk to him first?" Tanner's voice is hard.

"You're not gonna tell me what to do, dickhead," the man slurs, but Tanner's words seem to get to him. No one likes a snitch.

"Then I'm gonna mind my own business," Tanner shrugs nonchalantly and is about to turn away when the man grabs him by the shoulder and presses the gun against Tanner's nape. Everyone gasps. A chill creeps up my spine, but Tanner, although stopped, doesn't seem perturbed. He turns to face the man, the gun now pointing right between his eyes. "So what? Are you going to shoot me?" Tanner looks around. "Too many witnesses, don't you think?"

I don't think Tanner is that brave, but I'll give him this: he doesn't let fear show.

The man looks around too. His friends behind him seem less supportive now.

"Come on, Drew," says one of them, stepping closer. "You said you just wanted to scare those brats. That's enough."

Drew seems stumped. He might have thought he'd look cool scaring off the kids, but he clearly failed. Tanner's obvious smirk is solid evidence. He's not going to make it easy for Drew.

"I don't want to get my hands dirty with you, you filthy scumbag," Drew pushes Tanner with the barrel of the gun, spits, and gives us one last contemptuous look before leaving. But contempt is too familiar to all of us to give a fuck.