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Summer, the funnest, but most fleeting time of year for young kids. Try as they might, Sandy and Robbie couldn't escape the reality that summer was now over, meaning their days of working on their comic books, go swimming, and having "fun" whenever they wanted to were at an end. It was now time for the nine month sentence known as seventh grade to commence and there was no shortage of moans and groans From Sandy Evans and Robbie Atkins when their mothers woke them up that first day told them to get their butts out of bed and get ready for school.

As much of a hell as school could be, Sandy and Robbie could at least take solace in that they were on the same bus route together, had several of the same classes and were even in the same homeroom. Robbie knew plenty of the kids at school, though he didn't really care for many of them. Other than his friend and secret boyfriend, Sandy didn't know anyone else at the school. He'd spent so much time with Robbie that it never occurred to him that it might be a good idea to try and make other friends. Now he'd have to be around his classmates whether he liked it or not. Sandy thought back to to the sixth grade at his previous school clear across the country. He and his family had been more or less forced to leave after a boy who Sandy thought was his friend told the entire school that the squirrel was forced to to wear diapers at night. Sandy knew Robbie would never tell anyone that he had to wear such things at night, especially after the raccoon stripped naked and put one on himself in a show of solidarity. Still, Sandy was suspicious of everyone else at school. One could never be too careful.

The first week of school went much better than Sandy had expected, though he had expected nothing short of a lynch mob if the kids found out he had to wear diapers. For him, this school had a much different vibe than his previous one. Here, most of the animals, even the teachers seemed way more laid back, much less concerned about things that Sandy would have thought to be superficial bullshit. It was on during the second week of school that Sandy felt like he could finally be at ease with his new surroundings.

"I don't know why you don't like most of the other kids, Robbie," said the squirrel. He was sitting at a lunch table next to Robbie in what the school dubbed the "Cafetorium"; a room that doubled as both cafeteria and auditorium, most likely a cost and space saving design of the school's architect.

"I just don't," said Robbie, putting a straw in his banana flavored milk that he had purchased in the ale cart line instead of going through the standard line.

"I don't know how you can drink that shit," said Sandy, wrinkling his nose at Robbie's choice of beverage.

"It's an acquired taste," remarked the raccoon. "Kind of like being around your dumb ass."

"Fuck you," said Sandy, flicking a french fry at his secret boyfriend.

"Go ahead," said Robbie, undaunted by the squirrel's french fry assault. "Keep flicking those things at me. Just more for me to eat, and less for you."

"Maybe I'll just beat you over the head with my lunch tray?" retorted the squirrel. "Though it'll probably break on that cement block you call a head."

"Hey, this seat taken?" asked a voice.

Robbie and Sandy turned their attention to the person who'd asked the question. Standing between both of them was an otter wearing baggy blue jean shorts and a black t shirt that read "Gibson" in white letters. Caught off guard by the fox's arrival, Robbie and Sandy looked at each other, shrugged, then back at the otter.

"Yeah, go ahead," said Sandy.

"Thanks," said the otter, sitting down in between the squirrel and raccoon.

Sandy, still trying to learn the names of everyone at the school, didn't know who the otter was, but Robbie's reaction to the new arrival's presence was that of discomfort. He'd gone to the same school system his entire life, and he had never seen this guy before.

"You new here?" asked Robbie in a suspicious tone.

"Just moved here last week," said the otter in between bites of his cheeseburger. "Oh, sorry about that. Name's Ethan Ellsworth. My family just moved into our house from Indiana."

"Indiana, huh?" said Robbie in a snotty tone. He immediately felt Sandy kick him below the table. Robbie kicked hm back, with Ethan not paying any attention to their antics as he was focused on his cheeseburger.

"I just moved here over the summer," said Sandy, wanting to get chummy with Ethan. "I'm from Atlanta."

"Huh," said Ethan. "I've been there a few times when my Dad and I drove down to Florida--traffic gets crazy during rush hour."

"You don't have to tell me," said Sandy with a laugh. "I've been through that more times than I care to remember. Oh, and I'm Sandy Evans."

"Nice to meet you, Sandy," said Ethan, cordially shaking the squirrel's paw. "How about you?"

"Who me?" said Robbie, grouchily sticking his straw back in his mouth. "I'm Robbie Atkins. Lived here all my life. I'm a Scorpio and my turn offs are people who don't use coasters . . ."

"Robbie," Sandy snapped at him. "Be nice."

"It's okay," said Ethan, looking slightly crestfallen from Robbie's treatment. Sandy watched as the otter took his tray and emptied the leftovers into a trash can near the lunch line. The squirrel looked at his friend in disgust.

"Why you gotta be such a dick, huh?" he asked the raccoon.

"Guess it's just my time of the month," said Robbie. Sucking the remainsts of banana milk from his carton, the raccoon pulled the straw from inside, took the carton and crushed it in his paws. He looked at the clock on the south wall, noticing that lunch would be over in the next five minutes. Grabbing his tray, he went to take it up to the trash can and wash area, when Ethan came back to their table.

"Either of you know where Intermediate 2-D Art is?" asked the otter.

Robbie stopped in his tracks. "You're in that class?"

"Providing I can find the classroom," said Ethan, trying to make a joke.

"So . . . you like to draw?" asked Robbie.

"I love to draw," answered Ethan.

Robbie put his tray back down on the table and threw his arm around Ethan with a great big smile. "Sandy, be a lad and take that up to the wash station, would you? I need to talk to my new friend Ethan."

Sandy shook his head as he watched the raccoon walk off with Ethan. "Typical Robbie," said the squirrel under his breath. "First he hate him, now he wants to suck his dick."

Sandy didn't take any art classes, so he wasn't there to see what transpired between Robbie and Ethan, but the squirrel was quickly caught up to how things went between the two the period after that. Sandy, who shared English class with Robbie, found out that Ethan was in their class too. Robbie could barely keep his gums from flapping about how cool Ethan was. The otter blushed as he heard his new raccoon friend sing his praises. Robbie kept going on about what a gifted artist Ethan was, and how he'd told the otter about their numerous comic book projects they'd completed over summer vacation. Sandy was just as blown away as Robbie had been when the otter revealed how much he loved writing stories. Sandy and Robbie felt like Ethan was some kind of combination of the two of them. Sandy loved to read, but could barely draw a straight line with a ruler to save his life. Robbie was a gifted artist, but other than comic books and graphic novels, he wouldn't be caught dead with a book. With Ethan around, Sandy and Robbie felt like they would never be lost for conversation.

The end of the day did not see the squirrel and raccoon lose contact with Ethan the otter. The two were delighted when they saw Ethan walk onto their bus and sit down on the same seat as them. Robbie, who as Sandy had said during lunch, had been a "dick" to the otter, was the first one to greet him.

"Hey, Ethan," said the raccoon. "Hope you liked your first day here."

"Wasn't bad," said the otter. "Though I thought you didn't exactly like me at first."

The raccoon smirked, giving the otter several jabs to the ribs with his elbow. "Hey, that's just how I role, bitch," he mused. "Gotta say though, I'm glad that you're here, Ethan."

"Me too," said Sandy. "Never knew that somebody like reading just as much as they liked drawing."

"Well," said Robbie. "To be fair, artists are a superior class to writers."

"You wish," said Sandy, feeling their bus moving forward as they departed the parking lot of the middle school. The three boys watched as their bus moved from the school and onto the street, ready to make its drop offs for the afternoon.

"Say, Ethan," asked Sandy. "What's that Gibson thing that's on your shirt anyway?"

"Oh that?" said the otter. "Gibson is a guitar manufacturer. My Dad bought me this shirt for my birthday."

"Guitar, huh," said Robbie. "So, do you actually play guitar?"

"I do," said Ethan. "Been playing since I was four."

"Four?" said Sandy in disbelief. "You serious?"

"I am," said the otter. "You see, my Dad used to play in bands professionally. Played guitar. I've been around it my whole life, and I never rebelled against it like kids do about things their parents like. It just felt natural for me to pick up a guitar, even when I was four. Gotta tell you, I love it more than drawing and writing stories."

"Damn, you serious?" asked Robbie.

"I am," said Ethan. "I mean, and don't get me wrong, guys. I love drawing and writing stories, but I feel like I was born to be a guitar slinger. My Dad had me listening to all the great guitar music since I was born, really. I love playing the guitar." The otter paused as the bus hit a pothole. "You guys ever think about picking up an instrument?"

"Sometimes," admitted Sandy. "I kind of like the bass guitar, but nobody seems to notice the bassist."

"Not true," said the otter. "There's plenty of great bass guitarists, and plenty of lead singers play bass, like Jack Bruce, Geddy Lee, Phil Lynott, and Lemmy Kilmister. Those guys are all bassists and sing lead vocals too." The otter looked over at his new raccoon friend. "What about you, Robbie? You ever want to play music?"

"Gotta be honest," he said, moving his sunglasses around on his face. "Always wanted to be a drummer. That seems like a cool instrument."

"Drummers are always crazy," said Sandy. "That should suit you just fine."

"Whatever," said Robbie. "Just like eating only nuts should suit you, squirrel."

"You said you wouldn't joke about that, you ass wipe," growled the squirrel. "You ring-tailed, thieving prick."

"I told you I'm not a thief," whined Robbie. "I should punch you in the face for that."

It was during their antics that Ethan almost fell in the bus isle, he was laughing so hard. "Oh, oh," laughed the otter, grabbing his sides. "You two are just like my Dad and his partner."

"Partner?" said Robbie. "What? You mean his business partner?"

"No," said the otter, seeing that his stop was coming up. "His romantic partner. Don't you understand? My Dad is gay."

"He . . . he is?" said Robbie in shock.

"Yeah," said the otter, getting up as the bus halted at his stop. "Truth be told, I kind of have those feelings myself, too."

Sandy and Robbie looked at each other, their mouths hanging open in shock as Ethan left the bus. It was then that the two noticed the otter lived in an enormous house. Clearly Ethan's father had money.

"You hear what he said about having those kind of . . . feelings?" asked Robbie.

"Sure did," said Sandy. "Looks like we're gonna have to have him over sometime soon. He can draw, he can write and he likes other guys. I can't see anything we shouldn't like about that."

"Me neither," said the raccoon. "I think we've just made a very, and I mean very good friend."