"So, are you coming over after school today?" Lucas asks me on our way to our last class of the day.

"To your house?" I question. "No way."

Suddenly I feel an armrest around my shoulder, and I turn to face Justin's tall, skinny figure. "Then you should come over to my house! We're having Shepherd's pie!"

"You guys are eating lamb?" I ask. I stop and push his arm away.

It falls limp to his side as he gives me his signature dumb look.

Or is it the dumb look?

I'm not sure, they all look dumb to me.

"No, it's just meat," he replies.

"First of all," I begin, crossing my arms. "Lamb is also meat. Second of all, if it's cow meat, it's called Cottage pie, not Shepherd's pie. Third of all, there is no third of all."

"Shouldn't it be like, Farmer's pie?"

"Wow, you actually have a logical point for once." Then I uncross my arms and walk away in the general direction of my class.

I'm almost at the end of the hallway when I can literally hear Justin's realization.

"Hold on!" he calls, and I hear his shoes stomping as he runs after me.

Shoot. I was so close.

I mean, I could run, but you know, I stink at physicals.

My shoulders tense as he catches up to me and rests a hand on my shoulder to keep me from escaping.

"You're coming over, right?" he asks, walking around to face me. "So I can call my mom and tell her we have another guest."

"Uh, I have...plans. A..." I clear my throat. "...a family thing."

"Oh! Okay..." He visibly deflates, and his hand slides off my shoulder and back by his side. Shoulders slumped, he walks around me and off down the hall.

Ugh, what was that face he gave me?

Probably the one that my mom has tried so many times on me.

The guilt-tripper.

I can't help the clench of my heart and the slightly guilty feeling settling uncomfortably in my stomach.

"Wait!" I call after Justin before I can even think.

He turns around, hope lighting up his face. "Yes?"

My hands find each other, twisting nervously. "I just remembered that...the family thing...is actually next week—"

"So that means you can come!" he interrupts loud enough for all the heads in the hallway to turn our way.

Okay, now I'm feeling regret settling in my stomach.

"I guess that's exactly what it means..." I groan, grabbing my bag straps and turning on my heels, listening to Justin's skipping fade away.

Gosh, what have I done?

———————

I peek out of the empty classroom I'm waiting in.

I'm not hiding.

I'm residing.

I see Lucas walking by, and I grab his arm, pulling him into the classroom with me.

"I had nothing to do with it!" he exclaims. "I swear! Don't give me detention!"

"What?" I whisper. "What in Zimbabwe are you talking about?"

He narrows his eyes, trying to see through the darkness to figure out who the crazy holding him captive is. "Zimbabwe?" he questions.

"Instead of world, I said—" I stop myself. "You know, never mind."

He seems to realize who I am. Whether he's decided to use his brain cells, recognized my voice, or his eyes just adjusted to the darkness—it doesn't matter. Now that he understands the situation, he asks, "So...why are you holding me captive in a dark room?"

"Why did you leave me alone with Justin?" I hiss, holding my arm against his chest, leaving him with no way to escape.

"I had to get to my music class!" Lucas insists, his hands in the air.

"So why are hiding in a dark room?" a voice asks from the darkness before I can reply. "Are we playing hiding go seek? If so, who's seeking us?"

I whip around to face Justin, my face turning a similar color as his hair. "How long have you been there?"

"Ever since we started playing."

"What?" I scrunch up my face as I look up at his pale face in the darkness. "We're not playing hiding go seek!"

"Then what are we doing?"

I blink, finally saying, "It doesn't matter."

Releasing Lucas, I stomp out of the classroom and towards the back doors.

"Wait up!" Justin calls. "We're all going to my house, remember?"

"Sadly, I do," I mumble.

"What?" he questions when he catches up.

"Nothing," I return.

"What's your mom making for dinner?" Lucas questions Justin, appearing to my left. Then he nudges me and whispers, "She's the best cook, like, ever."

"Shepherd's Pie," Justin replies from my right, leaning slightly forward to face his best friend.

I clear my throat and give him a pointed look.

"Are you okay, Eiffel?" he asks, rubbing my back and giving me a worried look.

I have two options here. Although the cough was a way to subtly correct him, I could turn it into 'being sick' and get out of going to his house.

But, although I'm very sarcastic, I'm not a liar. And I never lie about being sick, because it's not something you should lie about.

So...

"I'm fine," I answer monotonically. "It's not like that cough was to correct you or anything."

"Alrighty!"

I stare at his back as he passes me to lead the way down the school steps. I stop in the doorway, frowning at his lean figure and letting Lucas pass me.

Finally, I jog down the steps to catch up with them.

"I'm just saying that it's not fair if people with hair have to wear a hairnet, but people without hair, don't!" I hear Justin say with flailing arms.

"But if they don't have hair, then what is the hairnet protecting the food from?" Lucas points out.

"Their head, of course!" his friend replies.

This is going to be a long walk.

"How is their head going to get into their food?" the other retorts.

"Why are you asking me?" Justin stops on the sidewalk to face his friend.

"Because you're the one thinking that it's logical for bald people to wear hairnets," Lucas replies.

My head finds its way to my hand in a way to show the greatest kind of annoyance.

These boys give me a headache.

"It's unfair to the people with hair!" the red-head insists, continuing walking down the path. I follow like a little minion, having nothing better to do.

Unless this is finally my chance to make a run for it—

"It's not about what's fair and what isn't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's about having clean, hairless food."

"Bald people have hair too."

"Do they?"

"You're right...I'm not sure if they do..."

"They should have hairnets for eyebrows. Just in case."

"Do bald people even have eyebrows?"

"Of course they do!"

"I'm not sure. I don't know any bald people."

"Our principal is bald."

Justin pauses, his feet coming to a stop again. "You're right..."

"Awesome!" I interrupt, stretching myself up to wrap my arms around their shoulders. "We've come to the conclusion that you are both incorrect. Now, let's move on with our lives." I drag them forward at a fast pace, but they both stop dead in their tracks.

"What do you think about bald people having to wear hairnets, Paris?" Lucas asks me, completely ignoring my statement.

"What do I think?" I question. "I think you both need some serious help."

"Help with what?" Justin asks with genuine unknowingness.

"Help with everyth—"

"Oh, look!" the redhead interrupts. "We're here!"

"Already?" I look around and realize that we're in a small, humble neighborhood even closer to school than my house. "This is where you live?"

"Yep!" he replies, walking up to a normal-looking house of moderate size and going up to the door. "I don't have a key—because I kept losing it—but we'll just knock." And just like a genius, he knocks.

I follow behind Lucas as he comes up beside his friend.

Suddenly I hear a few screams and yelling coming from inside the house. I wince as I mentally prepare myself for a family of Justins behind the door.

How did I get myself into this?

Ｒｅｇｒｅｔ

𝐓𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭.

Ｒｅｇｒｅｔ

T𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧