I hadn’t even made it past the school’s front desk before Mr. Narrator cleared his throat for the dozenth time.

Go on, Mr. Narrator. I’m listening.

“Sally…. I believe I owe you an apology.”

Sure, I’ll take it. But what for?

He was quiet for a bit, but that didn’t keep me from heading out into the night.

“Well… Now you see, I’ve been worried about your productivity; being sure to earn your keep and not fall behind, but I didn’t stop to think about what you’ve been carrying with you. Namely, me.”

You’re not heavy or nothing.

“But how it all happened surely is. I should have realized your demeanor was a defense; nobody could adjust to circumstances in just three days since… Since…”

Dying? Oh, but my demeanor? I’m going to tell you, that part of me, the defense? It’s meant to keep me living. So don’t think it’s disappearing, or anything. It’s how I roll with the punches. But they’ve been hitting a little harder than usual lately, that's all.

“I’ll do better by you, Sally. I promise.”

I shrugged, looking up at the night sky.

If that’s what you need to do. Just know I don’t really blame you for keeping me to task. If I feel like it’s too much next time, I’ll say so, straight and square, instead of slacking off without saying why.

Ink and Main was mostly shut down, though the Penny Reel was all lit up. Streetlights spread out from it, showing the way to some of the calmer parts of the city. However, off to one side was a zone of neon brights just getting cranked up.

“Night Library?” I read on one that started humming. “Open from 9 pm to 2 am? Whoever heard of such a thing?”

Several other glaring signs buzzed on.

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Honest Joe’s Restaurant

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Then there was:

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No Joke Jeweler’s

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And finally:

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The Checkers Club — We Play Checkers… For Keeps!

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“What in blazes…” I said, wandering toward the area.

Checkers club?! That last one’s gotta be a front, or my name ain’t Sally.

And it is.

Someone shouted just as I was about to step onto the cross street leading to the entertainment district. “The Undercrank is for antagonists, Sally. Are you showing your true spots?”

I turned around. Patty Pig was there, peering rather intently over a whole stack of books she carried in front of her.

“My spots?” I asked, confused.

A brief gust of wind blew between us, taking her small hat clean off her head. It sailed a few feet to land in front of me, bowled brim side up. I picked it up and straightened the faux flower so its petals fanned out.

“Here,” I said, putting it back on her head. “Looks like you lost this.”

She stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “Because it’s too small, right? My head’s too porky for it?”

“That was oddly specific, Sally,” Mr. Narrator warned.

I shook my head, not knowing what was biting her. “It was just the wind, wasn’t—”

“June told me all about you,” she interrupted, dropping the tower of books on the ground to cross her arms. “And just because I’m a pig doesn’t give you the right to go making fun of me!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t wallow in dirt. I work hard, because I’m bound for bigger—” She stopped, turned dark, then showed some grit teeth, and continued with “—better! I’m bound for better things! And I won’t let you interrupt my studies. I take my work seriously—not like you, who’d rather slack off and make nasty jokes all day at the expense of others!”

By this point, I was so annoyed I had forgotten all about asking what the Undercrank was, and why it was only for heavies.

“I wouldn’t use that word around her,” Mr. Narrator warned. “Riffraff might be better.”

I grunted. “Lady, I don’t know you from Adam or Eve.”

She paused, as if she never heard the saying. “What, are those minions of yours?”

“What’s it to you if they are?” Then I made a face. “I’m saying that I don’t know nothing about you, but you seem to have already made up your mind about me. And your source is June, of all characters?”

“June’s my friend!” she insisted, stamping her shoe.

“You sure about that?” I replied. “Seems to me she’s just a gossip.”

Something in her eyes told me that wasn’t the first time she’d heard it about June, but she just huffed and picked up her books, one by one. “As you said, I don’t know you. But I’ve known June practically all my life. She wouldn’t steer me wrong.”

“Right, what with how she treats everyone else,” I replied, doing my best to roll my eyes as hard as I could. “But lemme guess—she don’t do that to you. It’s everyone else who’s got her number.”

She snorted and started walking back toward the dormitory without another word. I turned back toward the Undercrank.

“Sally… For what it’s worth, I don’t think she was wrong to warn you.”

I turned and saw another sign light up.

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Blotto’s Tonics — Just what the doctor prescribed!

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Alright. I’m with you now. Whatever’s in that joint ain’t prescribed by no member of the AMA.

With a sigh, I started following Patty, who was struggling with the stack of books.

“Gimme some,” I muttered, holding out my hand. “Otherwise, you’ll never make it back before dawn.”

“I’m building up my stamina for stunts,” she replied, stumbling a little.

“In the dark? On an uneven road? Also, I ain’t taking all of them. Just one. Nah. Three.”

I pulled them off the top so she could at least pretend to see a little better.

“Don’t think this means I suddenly trust you now,” she muttered, walking better.

“Yeah, sure.” I thumbed through one of them as we started leaving the city limits, catching a glimpse of the text in the moonlight. “Advanced Foxtrotting, huh? Lucky. I got two left feet.” With a pause, I quickly looked down at my legs, just to make sure.

Whew!

“Figuratively speaking, that is.”

“Anyone can foxtrot,” she remarked. “Even a pig.”

“Mm…” I avoided the trap. “If you got a partner, sure. I’ll stick to basic takes, for now.”

She stayed quiet for a long moment, then asked, “Your takes take too long?”

“How’d you know?”

Her ears went flat. “You go slack-jawed a lot. Firm it up.”

“My jaw?”

She nodded, not looking at me. “And you pause, like you’re listening to someone.”

Ah ha! It’s your fault, Mr. Narrator!

“But! I! I’m supposed to be your guide, and yet I keep steering you wrong…!”

So easy to tease.

“Just like that,” Patty confirmed. “You’re not paying attention to what’s in front of you!”

“Of course I am—”

Crash.

Walked right into a tree stump.

With a shake, I peeled myself off it. “Who put that there in the middle of the road?”

“The road went the other way, Sally…” Mr. Narrator explained. “You just forgot to go with it.”

By the time we made it back to the dorm, I had helped myself to about half of her books. I wasn’t being nice or nothing; I just wanted to get home at a reasonable hour.

Of course, someone still had to open their mouth about the hour we arrived.

“There you are!” June shouted at me the moment I came into the room. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“No—”

“Keeping poor Patty out half the night, and for what? Sabotage, I’m certain!”

I gave Patty a side glance, but she didn’t say anything. She was standing a little stiff, like she wasn’t sure what role she was supposed to play. Shirley, however, looked up from her emery board and the nails she was filing.

“Wait a minute,” she said, pointing the file at June. “Didn’t you say you were going to walk Patty home yourself tonight? She asked you to help her bring her books home?”

June’s ears shot straight up with a nervous shake. “I was but—but I got busy! Terribly busy. So I asked Sally to help instead.” With a little laugh, she folded her arms. “Though clearly she took her sweet time about it, right?

I whirled on Patty so fast, my eyes trailed my head, but you can be sure they screamed “lies!” once they rolled into place.

“Thanks for thinking of me, June,” Patty replied with a warm smile.

June puffed herself up victoriously, a certain smugness filling the air.

“Yeah,” I muttered, dumping the books down by Patty’s bed. “Real thoughtful of her.”

Then I caught Patty’s wryly apologetic face on the rebound, and I knew that the curtains would soon be drawn on their so-called friendship.

And I’m gonna be in the middle, ain’t I?

“And how,” Mr. Narrator said. “And how.”