Mr. Carisol walked Ray into the school's office. Then, he started on a bit of a monologue:
"That boy has always been such trouble, your twin. Starting fights, spreading rumors, walking around like he's disgusted by everything..." he told Ray. "But suddenly, he seems to have changed quite for the better. He's dyed his hair light, which far better matches his dark and drab style of dress. It's about contrast, you see. You're the type who can wear white, and he's not... and neither of you should be wearing grey on top, oh, heavens no. He seems to be growing into quite the young man."
Ray narrowed his eyes with seething hurt. He was about ready to punch the old man between his baggy pants, when he said something else:
"I've always seen something of myself in him. Stubborn, with strong convictions... underneath that troubled exterior is a lot of courage."
He looked up at him, with soft eyes. He'd had no idea. 'Consider the sacking canceled,' Ray thought to himself.
Mr. Carisol looked down at Ray, and grunted. They sat down by his desk.
"Well, ahem. Let's get you sorted, shall we? What did you say your name was?"
Without thinking, he said, "Raimundo."
Mr. Carisol tapped his toe on the floor. His dress shoes made amusing little claps. "Oh, come now. That's a boy's name. We've got enough Raimundos around here, don't we?"
"I'm telling you the truth," Ray explained. "I met a weird boy in the woods, with white hair. Now he has my student ID, and my favourite hoodie! I think he followed he home!"
Mr. Carisol shook his head, slightly, and took a deep breath. "Look, I know you've been through some trauma, and you're a bit scattered. But this is no time for games. Please just... tell me who you really are, so I can send you back to your dorm."
'Ugh,' thought Ray, 'he's not listening. If only someone here could vouch for me.'
"Wait," he thought, "that's it! I'll be right back, mister!" He leapt from his chair, and ran out of the room. Mr. Carisol shouted after him, but all that remained was his belongings.
Ray rushed down the halls, looking around for his classmates, from the library to the cafeteria. Any of them would do; they need only see him with his head down on a desk. Ray searched for them high and low, but couldn't find a single one. That's when two of them approached him, from behind. He turned around, and met them face to face: Darnell and Yembe. Darnell was a stocky bruin with sharp eyes, who always wore striped sweaters over jeans. He was always pushing Ray around in Home Ec, calling him 'retarded', and a certain 'f' word that didn't rhyme with 'truck'. Darnell was the kind of guy who assumed himself the center of the universe, even though he didn't stand for anything, nor fight any of his own battles. He'd been content letting Jodd hold the front lines, for him. Then, there was their partner-in-crime. Yembe was a skinny affette, with four pony-poofs in the back, and hair combed tight on top. She was in her usual grungy jean jacket, with fingerless gloves, but over a pair of hundred-dollar white khakis and bright-pink plastic shoes – to make sure everyone knew it was all on-purpose. Yembe was from Little Africa, a neighborhood for refugees across the world. By Ray's guess, she lived on the nicer side of it. She was actually kind of a jerk, always disrupting class and insulting people to their faces, and had a habit of making people wish she'd go back. Which was an awful thing to say about a refugee. Ray had always suspected this was intentional too, and that she enjoyed making people squirm between conflicting emotions... and in the spaces between ideals, and reality. Both of them were Jodd's side-cars, and a year older than Ray. Neither seemed too upset about his death. Which was odd. Ray waited for them to recognize him... but they didn't. Without the black hoodie, Ray supposed, they couldn't tell who he was.
'That's what I get for being iconic, I guess,' he thought.
Yembe gave Ray a flirty gaze, and smiled. "You must be new here," she grinned. "Lemme show you 'round school." She offered her hand, and Ray looked at it like it was a foreign entity. She'd already bullied him enough that he knew not to trust her kindness – still, it was shocking to see it in earnest.
Darnell looked at her, and became upset. "You can't keep doing this, dude. Every time someone new shows up, you sneak off with them, make out, and then come crawling back to me, crying about how you 'made a mistake'. I'm tired of it."
"Whaaat? I'm just... introducing myself." Yembe replied. "Have you been here long, miss...?" Yembe leaned in closer.
Ray leaned away. He started to say, "It's me, guys, Ra-" when suddenly, Fake Ray showed up. He wrapped his arms around the others' shoulders, and kissed each one on the cheek.
"How's my favourite couple?" he brazenly asked them. They chuckled, and blushed. He went on, "I hear you're having trouble staying on the leash, Yembe. Just remember: a wandering dog might forget his way home. And Darnell, why not go with her? Open yourself up to new things, meet new people, sniff new butts. Whatever makes her happy might make you happy, too." He rested his head between their shoulders, and they leaned in together. "Most importantly," he concluded, "what matters is that you stick together. Change might come and go, but if you do that, you'll always have each other." They shared a collective, dreamy sigh.
Ray stared in disbelief at the three of them. Suddenly, this... wolf boy was a golden retriever! They were cuddling him like it was pet therapy! And just where the hell did all this mint-stank degrassi come from?
"(Are you people for fucking real right now?)" Ray cursed under his breath.
"Thanks, Ray." Yembe said to Fake Ray. "You've always been a great friend to both of us."
Darnell nodded in agreement. "It's true. Ever since I can remember."
"What an ass-kisser you are!" Real Ray whined, and ran away.
"What's her problem?" Darnell asked.
The other two simply shrugged.