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Chapter 2 - Seventeen

Page

Monday

I want to be young forever. I know that's too much to ask and it always will be, but life couldn't be any better right now. Nick actually hung out with me for once, which was good. I feel like it was good. My parents are the two best animals I've ever met. It feels like everyone around me has parents who are divorced, but not this bunny--my family is still in tact. I have a great relationship with my brother, Roger, who sometimes plays clarinet for me. I think it's really nice how excited he is to show me a new song. Or, that's how it used to be. Things have simmered down between us, but we still talk and hang from time to time. I'm passing in school and I don't think there's an animal there that dislikes me.

Plus, I have the idea for an amazing song that will rocket our little garageband from small gigs to filled stadiums. I know it will work. I've studied some indie bands that have become more popular because of one song, and I found out some things.

1) The song has to relate to everybody so that way it touches their hearts and makes them feel like they know this band, because the animals in it are just like them. Just because a band is famous, doesn't mean they don't have everyday problems. All animals face them. It's just reality. Bands want to create music people can relate to, which is why songs about love work so well. People can relate to being broken up with or cheated on, because a majority of people will have this happen to them. 2) It has to be memorable. Not saying that it has to be catchy, no, but memorable. The instrumentation and rhythm have to appeal to the musical senses and be pleasant and easy to listen to. 3) It has to be easy to sing. A band's most popular song is usually the one everyone knows the lyrics to. This is because the lyrics are interesting enough for people to want to learn, and the song is great enough that the people want to memorize the lyrics.

This formula must be the key to a band's success. Nick is a great writer and I love his powerful lyricism, but I feel like everything he writes is more based on personal experiences, which is completely fine, but as I said, an audience wants to hear something they can relate to. Maybe I'm completely wrong, but who knows.

The alarm is going off. Something Good by alt-J is playing softly. I can hear it, but I'm still in that area between being asleep and being awake. "Mleh...would you just shut it..." I fumble my paws around my body and discover my phone tucked into the space where my torso meets the mattress. I always fall asleep with my phone in bed, so this is a regular ritual for me.

I grip the device as the piano is in mid-flourish, and tap the snooze button, already having memorized its location. The music stops and I sigh, closing my eyes again. This is my time to think since falling asleep is a bad idea, though that has happened to me on more than one occasion.

I usually think about random things, but today I think about rocking out on stage with the other members of Water On Fire. That name is totally cool, right? I have no doubt people will love it.

Back when it was our fourth or fifth practice, something was nagging at me. I stopped playing and everyone turned to me.

"Uh, Page...We lost ya there," Boris said, as if that wasn't obvious.

"You good?" Tyler asked, of course being concerned for my well being, as he usually was.

"We can take a break if you need it." This is coming from Nick, who's being considerate, as he does. Nora doesn't say anything, which doesn't surprise me. She's not the type to confront someone, really.

BI had set my sticks down, rubbing my paws together. "I was just wondering, who came up with the band name?"

"I did," Nick said. "What, you don't like it?"

In my head I knew he was doing that Nick thing that he does. He does this thing where if you ask a certain question about something he did or made, he'll assume you don't like it or want it to change. He acts really self-conscious sometimes for no reason. The stuff he does is great, so why would he doubt himself? "No, I like it. I was just wondering why you chose it."

"Well...My favorite band is Arcade Fire, and I was thinking about their lyrics and how poetic they are, and I wanted the name for our band to be something that has meaning. So I thought for hours on end and went through many different names, finally choosing a name that was inspired by my favorite band. What do you think of when you think of water?"

"That guy doing the bottle flip challenge," Tyler said.

"Those little water things with the birds that you see in offices," Boris added.

"The ocean," Nora said.

"A pond," I said, imagining a frog swimming around in there in the peculiar way frogs do. Nick looked between Nora and I, nodding. Of course he ignored the guys.

"Right. Ponds and oceans are both peaceful places, when--"

"Ah, but they're not always. What about during storms?" Boris asked, of course trying to make an anomaly (thanks, sociology class) out of the situation.

Nick rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. Anyway, typically we think of water as a peaceful and serendipitous thing. What pops into your head when you think of fire?"

"Death and destruction," I commented, and everyone pretty much agreed with me.

"Yeah, fire is a destructive and chaotic force," Nick explained, making a little explosion gesture with his paws (he's often gesturing when he talks).

Boris raised his index finger and opened his mouth. "But water can't catch on fire, under normal circumstances. Pure water can if it comes into contact with sodium or aluminum powder at high temperature, but I'm assuming this isn't pure water we're talking about."

"Dude, it's metaphorical," I said, shaking my head. Seriously, Boris.

"I don't get it." Tyler strummed some notes on his guitar, not taking his eyes off Nick.

"Basically the idea of the name Water On Fire is like the collision of peacefulness and chaos, as life can often be."

"Woah," a few of the animals in the room said, including me. They got the name now. Nick held his paw up, gesturing for us to let him continue.

"Buuut...If you think of it in another sense, it could also mean something peaceful turning into something chaotic. A long time ago, we were driving to my grandma's place and everything was going fine and normal as you'd expect it to. Suddenly, there was a crash a few cars in front of us, and this created a domino effect of crashing cars, and everything became more chaotic than it had been just a few minutes ago. Get what I'm saying?" Nick raised his brows to make sure we were catching all this information and tossing it into our brains.

"Yeah, I totally understand now. Thanks, Nick," I smiled at him, and I remember the confident smile he gave back. He really believed in the name he chose for us.

Now, as I lay here thinking about the wonderful future my song is going to create for us, I think about Nick, and the fun we had yesterday. I wish he had talked more about himself and his family, since it was only fair. I talked about mine! It's cool, though. He had a lot of other interesting things to say, so I can't really complain.

I thought it was a little weird he didn't text me, though.

I mean, I honestly thought we would have been at least to that point after hanging yesterday. Maybe I just don't understand how things work. I dunno.

A few minutes later, I hardly realize I had dozed off before Something Good is blaring in my ear. I groan and turn off the alarm. I don't wanna go to school...My bed is too comfy. Damn it. Do I feel like pretending to be sick, though? No. I didn't. I don't know why I consider pretending to be sick considering actually being at school is fine.

I sit up and stretch, get out of bed and do my morning routine, then head downstairs to make breakfast. It's no surprise to me when I find Roger down there, eating cereal and watching videos on his phone. I creep up behind the black and white bunny, putting my arms around him.

"Hey, sis," he says, moving a finger to pause the video.

"Morning, Roger. Sleep well?" I rest my chin on his head and look down, only really able to see his muzzle and nose that is somehow darker than his fur.

"Meh. Could be better. I had a weird dream, though." I feel my chin sliding against his head as he attempts to look up at me. I move and release him, stepping back. He turns in his chair toward me.

"What about?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"Well, I was driving the car, which was weird since I don't know how to drive a car," he started, as I began to make breakfast, his eyes following me and his body swiveling on the seat as I move about the kitchen. I decide to make ramen for breakfast because it's a free country. "And I drove it into the river, but instead of just sinking I just kept driving forward. And then you were there drowning in the water and I just drove right past you."

I turn my head toward him. "Gee, thanks. What a hero."

"What? It's not like I had any control over it," he says. "We can't control our dreams, Page."

My paw reaches into the pantry to fondle the square packets of ramen, my eyes scanning the flavors. I can't decide if I want shrimp or oriental. "I mean, there's lucid dreams."

"What's that?" Roger asks, blinking. I grab the shrimp packet and toss it onto the counter. It knocks against the instant ramen bowl I set there and sends it crashing to the ground.

"It's like...how do I explain..." I grab the bowl off the floor and return it to the counter, opening the packet of ramen and setting the hard rectangular prism of noodles inside. Time to fill it with water. "It's like when you're aware that you're in a dream. Basically once you realize it, you can control the dream, and the decisions you make in it. I've had a few."

His ears spring up, my head cranes towards him as I fill the bowl with water. I definitely let it fill up too much as I listen to him talk. "Really? Tell me about one!"

"Maybe later, dude. I can't think of any off the top of my head." I adjust the water level to be just right and put my breakfast in the microwave. I lean back on the counter, watching my little brother.

"Aw, no way," he frowns. "Well, whatever." He looks down and frowns, picking up some of the mush that was now in his bowl and letting it fall back into the milk. "My cereal got soggy..."

"I don't know why you're surprised," I say, "You always get distracted so easily. I told you a hundred times to focus on eating more than socializing."

He huffs and puts his bowl in the sink. "I know, but it's haaard...I'm gonna go get ready for school." He turns to leave.

"Ah, don't forget to rinse out your bowl," I remind him. "Dad told me to tell you to stop forgetting."

"Why doesn't he get that I forget so easily?" Roger groaned. "It's not like I'm trying to!"

"I know, but remember what Dr. Murray said?"

"No, that's my whole point!"

I laugh. "He told you that only you can start doing things to help you remember. The medicine is just a step."

"But what if I forget about those things?"

"Well, shit, guess you're effed."

"I was effed from the start."

"I was joking. You shouldn't think like that! You're awesome, dude. Even if you forget, that doesn't make you any less of the amazing animal you are."

"You sure you don't want to be an inspirational greeting card maker when you get older? Cuz that stock advice is perfect for something like that."

I'm a little taken aback, and my mouth falls open. "Wha--Stock advice? How dare you insult my sisterly love! Well, at least this so called 'stock advice' is also the truth. Seriously, Roger, you shouldn't get so down on yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"I see the way you act sometimes. You don't have to speak to convey what you feel." The microwave has long since beeped by now. At least, I thought I heard it. I put my paw on Roger's shoulder. He has a defeated look on his face.

"I get sad a lot. I don't know why. I guess the forgetting thing is one factor...But there's something else there...I feel isolated from everyone else." He looks at his feet and his ears are droopy. I am touched by this emotional bonding we're having. He hasn't opened up to me before. Well, not like this.

"Why? You have friends that like you and a family that loves you," I say, wanting to grab those words and immediately shove them back down my throat. I had sounded like my dad.

"Yeah..." Gross. Sounding like my dad is the last thing I want. Not that he sucks, like apparently most dads do, just that I don't want people thinking I'm like my father. I feel weird about that.

I have an impulse to check the time and look at the green numbers on the microwave, but instead I just find a confirmation that my ramen is finished. I get the food out, thankful it's still warm. Time to add the flavoring. As I do this, I check the time on the oven instead. "Looks like you gotta get going."

"Yeah," Roger says, clearly feeling awkward over the talk we had.

"Don't forget your phone."

"I won't."

Roger leaves, and I'm left with a deeply unsatisfied feeling. That wasn't how I wanted the conversation to end, at all. There was still more to discuss!

And Roger still didn't rinse out his bowl.

=^.^=

"Good morning, Austin, Texas! It looks like we're in for even more rain than yesterday, Bill."

"That's right, John, the animals--" The car radio cuts off as my phone's bluetooth connects.

"You think?" I say, watching the rain patter against my windshield. I turn on my wipers. Hooray. Another day of rain.

It's not that I don't love rain or anything. It feels nice, sounds wonderful, and looks pretty. It's just inconvenient in a lot of ways. Like, it creates mud, for one. For two, the roads are more slippery and the visibility is decreased. For three, it becomes really humid after it rains. I don't think anyone likes that feeling.

But who cares about rain. That conversation with Roger is still bothering me. I grip the steering wheel, even though the car isn't moving. I wish he didn't have to leave so early for marching band. If he had left at the same time I did, I could give him a ride, and also we might be able to continue their conversation. I know that when he gets home later he's not going to want to talk about anything. It's almost two hours after he left and now it's my turn to head to school, but I'm just sitting here. I don't even pay attention to which song is playing. Get moving, Page. You've got things to do.

I eventually find my mind and get on my way.

=^.^=

I'm wrapping up an assignment in second period when the bell rings and the students flood out into the hallways. I don't waste anytime finishing the assignment and just shove it into my backpack, much like the talk with Roger. It's in the back of my mind...for now.

I sling my backpack over one shoulder and walk out of the room. I know exactly where I want to eat this time. Even though Lily would miss me, I can always text her later. I'm sure she'll be fine. Instead of just being rude, I send her a quick text, telling her where I'll be.

In no time I've reached my destination.

"...doesn't even know what a simple sentence is. Well you know what? He's a simple-ton. Huh? Get it?" A ridiculous german shepherd wiggles his brows at a very unamused Nick. I slide into the seat next to Tyler without saying anything. I feel like announcing your own presence is pointless. People will either notice, or they already have.

"Woah, Page? What are you doing here?" Tyler asks, and I already have a witty response.

"Oh, you know. I go to school here. Who knew?"

"No, I mean what are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd come and hang."

"Sweet," Nick finally spoke. And I thought Nora was the silent one.

"What're you guys talking about?" I look at Tyler and then Nick.

"Just one of my teachers. He's a dumbass," Tyler says, taking a bite of some very unappealing taco salad. "He doesn't even know what a simple sentence is. That's the easiest one! And he's the teacher."

"Maybe he just made a mistake," I say. I don't like being negative about things.

"That's what I was thinking," said Nick. "Maybe he was just confused or something."

"Alright, alright. I'll give him a chance to redeem himself. Happy?" Tyler sips from his carton of chocolate milk.

"Yep," I say. Now was the time. The real reason I came to eat lunch with them. "So, I have an idea."

"Lay it on us," Nick says.

"I have the perfect song that's gonna make Water On Fire one of the most known bands in the United States. People all over will be talking about us and listening to our music. We might even get a record deal. Think about it!"

"Woah, no way! That's awesome!" Nick exclaims and I smile widely, full of energy and ready to explain my masterpiece of an idea.

"Wait, you mean you're gonna write a song?" Tyler asked, not smiling or having his eyes brimming with excitement like I thought he would.

"Yeah? Is that okay?" I start to worry a little.

"Um...I dunno. Nick has kinda always written our songs..." Tyler rubs his arm. I worry more. This isn't how I expected him to react at all. Nick makes a confused face, but he's also smiling? It looks strange.

"What's the matter with letting another band member write a song? I could use some help," Nick says, which I expected from a guy like him.

"Yeah, but...What if it's not as good?" Tyler asked.

"Plenty of bands have songs that aren't as good as others, but I'm sure that Page's song will be awesome."

"I really believe in myself," I say. "If I thought it wouldn't be worth it, next to songs like Kill Order and The Time I Fell Off, then I wouldn't even be bringing this up to you guys! I spent a lot of time thinking this through and I already have an idea for the lyrics and rhythm. Come on, Tyler."

"What did the others say?" The german shepherd pushes his bowl forward, all the food inside eaten. There wasn't a scrap left. I don't think he licked his bowl, but I wouldn't put it past him. There's a shiba inu licking their bowl in the booth in front of us.

"Oh...Well, I haven't asked them yet. Hold on. I need to get food." I take a break from talking and hurry to the lunch line, getting quesadillas and then returning to my band mates. "I don't even know where Boris and Nora eat lunch." I dig into my food.

"I thought Boris was part of the homecoming committee," Nick say, turning to Tyler. "Right?" He's barely touched his food, which interests me, but I wouldn't question.

"Oh, um...I think so? He'd be in room 109 if that's the case."

"Oh sweet, thanks guys." I take another bite of food before grabbing my backpack.

"Where are you going?" Nick asks. I straighten the bottom of my hoodie with a paw and scoot out of the booth.

"To see Boris, obviously."

"I still don't know how I feel about it," Tyler says, and I frown a bit.

"I'll prove that it's gonna be awesome. See ya!" I take off, jogging through the halls, dodging animals of all shapes and sizes and make it to room 109, where I fortunately find the otter. He's on his knees and painting a black 'O' on a blue banner.

"B," I say, nudging his butt with my foot. Luckily, his hands don't react as much as his head which turns quickly toward me. The 'O' is secure.

"Oh, Page, what are you doing here? You know, I'm kind of busy right now." He stood up, wiping his paws on his jeans, getting some black paint on them.

"I know, but I have to prove a point to Tyler and I need your permission."

"Um, okay. Why?"

"I have an idea for a song that's gonna make us famous," I explain, tapping my foot.

"Oh really? What's it called?"

"I dunno. But I do know that it's going to be awesome."

"Mm. Okay. Can you give me a lyric?" he asks, kneeling back down and picking up the paintbrush, dipping it into the black paint can and rubbing the excess paint off on the edge. I watch as I think about the lyrics.

I also notice that some animals in the room are messing around with paint and others are working on attaching something to a string, and some are just talking or discussing matters. No one even cares that I'm here, which is how it should be. Just because someone came in doesn't mean everyone needs to look at them.

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"Well...Uh...It, um...It starts with 'When you're awake, but you're sleeping?'" I say this sentence like a question because I don't know what Boris will think of it.

"And?" He finishes painting a large 'M' and starts on the next letter. My eyes move left and right and I look down at him.

"Uh...And?"

"That's it?" He sounds unimpressed.

"Obviously not, Boris. I just don't want to spoil anymore of the lyrics."

"You don't even have a song title."

"Okay, well, are you fine with me writing a song or not?" I watch his brush strokes and I have to admit, I admire how smooth they are. I wonder if he paints regularly? It would be a pleasant surprise to discover Boris is an up and coming artist. Maybe he has some other work I could see sometime...

"Yeah, I'm all for it. As long as it isn't a jumbled mess or over six minutes," the otter says, his tail dragging along the floor as he moves. I cross my arms and smirk at him.

"What, can the wittle otter not handle it?" Baby voice. The Ultimate Mock.

"Excuse me? You might not know, Page, but I played a piano medley from The Legend of Zelda that lasted twenty-four minutes!"

"You like Zelda?" I blink.

"I haven't really played much myself, but the music is awesome. Leah and Molly are super into it, though. I can't recall, have you met them?"

I shake my head, intrigued. "Who are these mystery ladies you speak of?"

B"Well, they're my sisters."

"Woah, you never told us you weren't an only child."

"You never asked."

"Oh." There's a pause as I try to figure out what to say. "I guess personal things aren't usually on my mind when we're at practice. I mean, we don't usually have time to just sit down and talk. We meet up for practice and then go our separate ways. It honestly drives me crazy. That's why I went out on a limb and ate dinner with Nick yesterday."

"You went on a date with Nick?" Boris smiles at me.

"Ate dinner with," I correct him. Boris please.

"Same thing."

"Actually, it's not."

"Is it, though? I mean, maybe I'm just crazy, but you two obviously have chemistry."

"You're crazy."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are."

Just then, a grey wolf comes into the room. Man, he's tall. A jock, most likely. He walks right up to Boris, who stands up and wipes his paws on his jeans again (I didn't realize Boris wouldn't mind his pants getting so messy?). "Uh, hey, Boris. Here's that dollar I owed ya." The wolf takes a crumpled dollar out of his pocket and unfolds it. What a wrinkly mess. There's a slight tear on the top. I'm sure that wolf probably just found the dollar and rushed over here. He holds it out for the small otter, who takes it.

"Thanks, Damien, and you're welcome. Just make sure you don't make it exactly like mine."

"I won't. See you next time, B!" With a smile and a wave, the wolf leaves. I turn to Boris, raising a brow. He obviously know I'm silently questioning what that was about, because he immediately explains.

"It's like a little side business. They bring me two copies of their homework and a dollar, or two depending on the homework, then I do one page for them, and they use my page to finish their own page (that way it isn't in my handwriting). I always tell them to make sure they don't copy it exactly, that way teacher's won't get suspicious," he tells me, looking at someone else, clearly.

I turn my head, but I must have missed the animal, because there's nothing there. I look back at Boris. "Isn't that, like, against the rules?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Oh. Wow. Can't say I'm not surprised. This sounds so weird coming from you. Bad Boy Boris."

"Eh, if I'm gonna be smart and shit, might as well get some money out of it."

"That's devious, dude. Get a job."

"It would be kinda hard to attend school and rehearsal and a job. Can't have all three."

"Oh, yeah. But you do realize you're, like, messing up their ability to understand the work? The point of homework is so that we can check our understanding of the content we're taught in class and why am I defending homework right now...? I don't care about it."

"Ah, for two copies and a d--"

"I get it Boris, and I can handle it. Just because I don't care about it doesn't mean I won't do it. Go ahead and do your weird side business and I'll keep getting my own shit done."

"I was planning to continue anyway."

"I figured." I look at the time. "I should probably go find Nora before lunch ends so I can see if she's cool with me writing the song."

"You probably won't get much out of her. Do you even know where to look?"

I shrug and pull out my phone. "I can text her."

"Oof, might not wanna waste your time. She won't answer."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I tried texting her a few times. She never texted back."

"I'll still give it a shot, just in case."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." He gets back on his knees and continues painting black letters. I access Nora's contact through the band group chat and select "Send Message."

Me: Hi, Nora. It's Page. The bunny. We're in the same band.

Nora: I know. You're the only one that spells your name like that.

Me: Really?

Nora: It's usually spelled with an i. Paige.

Me: That looks weird.

"Did she respond?" Boris asks, finishing the word he was painting. 'HOMECOMING.'

"Hahaha, yeah she did."

"Bitch, no way. Why didn't she respond to me?"

"Oh yeah, who wouldn't wanna talk to Boris the Bad Boy? You must have people breaking down your door, you poor thing."

"Shut up," he groans. I laugh.

"What did you ask her anyway?'

"I asked her how to make spaghetti."

"Seriously? What else?"

"That's it. I literally typed 'How do you make spaghetti?'"

"Wait. Did you even introduce yourself?" I squinted.

"Oh, fuck. No." We both laugh.

"You sure you want people paying you to do their homework, Mr. Smart Guy?"

"Fuck you, Page," he chuckles. "And quit with all the nicknames. I'm just Boris." I'm glad he took the joke lightly. I don't really think he's dumb. One little mistake like this doesn't make you dumb.

"At least we have our answer to why she didn't respond," I comment, looking down at her message.

Nora: Maybe. Did you need something?

Me: I was wondering where you were.

Nora: Oh. Nowhere.

Me: Nora.

Nora: I'm not good with other animals.

Me: I just need to ask you something.

Nora: Can't you ask me here?

Me: Oh.

Nora: Yeah.

Me: Tyler is skeptical of me writing a song for the band because Nick always writes them. Boris already said he's cool with it.

As I type and send the message, the bell rings. I had seen that she was typing, but now the little dots disappear. "Aw, man."

"You should probably get to class, Page," Boris says, as if that weren't obvious.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm goin'. See you later, Mr. Boris." I walk out, leaving the otter with black paint on his pants behind. As I'm walking down the hall I receive a text from Nora.

Nora: You're thinking about writing a song?

Me: Yeah. We're gonna be famous because of it.

Nora: Oh. I'm fine with it.

Me: Sweet! I'll be sure to tell Tyler. Uh...Did you wanna hang after school maybe?

Nora: Not really.

Me: Oh.

Nora: Sorry. Maybe later.

Me: Okay.

=^.^=

It's after school and I'm listening to the hum of the engine as I configure my radio. The windows are rolled down and it's pretty humid outside, but it's not as terrible as it could be.

I get the radio set up and A Giant Dog's Seventeen comes on. I smile, enjoying the energy of my favorite band. Their local to Austin, which I always find so rad because their music is so good.

The passenger door opens and in climbs Roger, not speaking a word. I smile at him. "Hey, Roj."

"Hey." He looks out the window. This would be a bad time to bring up the conversation from this morning. Damn.

"How was your day?"

"It was fine. Boring, mostly. Some kid broke his wrist during morning rehearsal."

"Oh, woah. What happened?"

"Well, since it's been raining on and off, the marching field has been pretty slippery. It's kinda funny. But this fox was running to his spot and I guess he took a weird turn or something because the next thing you know there's just this fox there lying on the ground sobbing and holding his wrist."

"Oof, damn. Poor fox."

"It's fine. He's kind of an asshole."

I turn down the music. "Roger?"

"Mm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you really okay? I'm your big sister and I'm worried about you. You used to be excited about telling me about your day, even when nothing exciting happened. You loved riding home with me. Now you just sit there and it all feels really disconnected and don't use hormones as an excuse. Did something happen?"

"...I guess life happened."

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"Explain." I pull out of the parking lot and begin driving as A Giant Dog plays lowly over the speakers.

"I don't want to, Page."

"You can tell me. You know I'll understand. I always do."

"It's hard to talk about without feeling sad. Shit, it's hard to even think about without feeling sad."

I remember what he's talking about now and feel bad because it's one of those shitty things that can't be helped. "Is this about Sam?" He turns to look at me and nods with sad eyes.

"Ever since he left...it's been hard. I've had a lot of time to think about myself and I feel like I'm just this small guy nobody notices. I've had worse thoughts. I just...Now that he's gone I've had time to think. There's no one there to distract me from the big picture. Every time I'm alone I just think about what a loser I am, forgetting all the time, making dad upset, not making friends like you told me to--"

"Wait, but what about that squirrel you told me about? What was his name...Forrest?"

"He's cool and all, but we barely talk. He's no Sam."

"There. That's the problem."

"What?"

"You have this mindset."

"What mindset?"

"You know, the one where you compare everybody to Sam? If you gave people a chance, maybe you can find another Sam?"

He turns the other way and huffs. "How could you say that?"

"Because, Roj, it's the truth, and you need to see that."

"I can't just replace Sam like I'm some woman who lost her husband and got remarried!"

"What?" I raise a brow.

"I'm saying I can't replace him, Page." He looks forward and his nose twitches. "Where are we going anyway? Please don't tell me dad is making us get food or groceries or something, I just want to go home."

"Why? So you can lock yourself in your room and lay in bed the rest of the day?"

"Yes!"

"You do realize you've missed, like, two months worth of family night?"

He blinks. "No..." This is it. Maybe I'm finally getting somewhere.

"Yeah, that's like eight missed movies."

"Oh..."

"You tell me that you feel isolated, but you're not doing anything to help your case. You feel isolated because you're doing it to yourself, Roger."

"Damn."

"Yeah." The car turns left into a local ice cream shop's parking lot, if you could even call it that. Talk about small. I park and look at Roger.

"I didn't even realize all that. Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I am."

"I don't know what to do."

"Join us next time."

"I just never feel like socializing anymore."

"Roger."

"It's true! I just feel like curling up under my covers all the time. It's stupid, I know. But it's nice."

"Oh. It's nice. It must be really nice being alone all the time. You're contradicting yourself here. First you feel isolated, then you like being alone. Which is it, Roj?"

"It's both."

"I don't understand."

"Me either..."

I just sigh and sit back, looking at a couple walk into the door of the ice cream shop. I thought this would cheer Roger up, but it doesn't seem like he even cares that we're here. He probably just wants to go home. Why am I forcing it? Damn it, Page.

"There are other things," he says, scratching his knee.

"Oh?"

"Yeah..."

"Tell me when we get inside."

"Okay." I turn off the car and we get out. I feel little drops of water hit my fur and I look up at the grey, grey sky.

Here comes the rain.